The Road to Nowhere (Launceston to Penguin to the north Tarkine)

We were up at 6am to ensure we started the day with a pie and sausage roll from Banjo’s. There was a very sad and crumpled someone sitting in the corner, head on table, looking very much the worse for wear, dark hair spread out before them like a congealed oil spill. The brekky pie would provide sustenance for the long walk ahead, for us at least. I’m not sure how person in the corner faced the rest of the day.

Dave got a small sausage roll as he isn’t one for breakfast on a good day. I settled for a pie and was accidentally served a singular party pie by the youth behind the counter. A second party pie was purchased to bring me closer to full pie. It was not the same. Ah well, next time.

Pick up on Sunday morning was 7:30am. We were downstairs, checking out from the hotel when we saw the bus parked in the drive. As we moved towards it, it drove off. We would have been out earlier had we not needed to discuss storing our luggage at the hotel while we were in the Tarkine. I had assumed storage of our one bag would not be a problem, since we would be returning to stay at the same hotel for our last night before we headed home. Incorrect. The Sebel Launceston does not store luggage. I have never encountered this before. Anywhere in the world.

Somewhat annoyed we dragged our gear out to the driveway to await the return of the bus. While we were enjoying the fresh morning air, a flock of yellow-tailed black cockatoos flew south. I regard Mangana, the yellow-tailed black cockatoo, as my totem and see it as a sign of good fortune. Apparently the Palawa people view the cockatoo as a messenger, guardian or ancestral spirit. It was an excellent way to begin our trek.

The penguin in Penguin.

After we had picked up the remainder of the group, we drove to Penguin. Coffee for us, shopping for supplies for our guides. The penguin in Penguin was sporting the same shirt as last year which makes sense, given it was almost a year to the day since we were there. We did not have a lot of time so I broke one of my life rules and ordered take-away coffee in a sippy cup. I know, dear reader, I am ashamed, but it was going to be my last real coffee for a week.

No idea, pretty and it didn't bite me.

Back on the bus, we headed for the middle of nowhere. More precisely, a fire or forestry trail in the middle of nowhere. As our guides explained, there were very few map reference points to show where we were going. The walk would take us in a rough horseshoe shape from the drop off point, through parts of the north Tarkine, back onto the forestry trail a little further south. It looked impressive on the map and in retrospect, looks even more impressive on my Strava flyover. The predicted weather was variable but it all ended in rain at some point. Well, it is a rain forest.

All set.

After final instructions and the careful placement of the food bags, we donned our packs. Before I commenced walking, I grabbed a handful of dirt and let it trickle through my fingers as I introduced myself to the Palawa Old People. I was introduced to this by an Aboriginal guide in Purnululu (the Bungle Bungles) and have continued the practice whenever walking.

The final pack.

Our packs weighed somewhere beyond 15kg but the guides were carrying much more. We left the trail for wet sclerophyll forest (see, I did pay attention in Science class in Year 10) and our first river crossing; the Arthur River. It was too deep to ford in our boots so we swapped them for sandals or reef shoes. On the other side we dried off and put our boots back on. Within half an hour they were off again to cross the Keith River.

Dave crossing the Arthur River.

Eventually we ended up back on the forestry road and had a long steep climb before we entered the rain forest proper; a cool, temperate rainforest. The sounds of birds and water across rocks were about the only sounds we heard beyond our own chatter as the group got to know each other. And then … engines. Hard to define at first, perhaps a helicopter or some 4wd vehicles in the distance.

There were hives everywhere.

Then they appeared. About four people on dirt bikes, followed by three 4wd buggies. The last contained the grandparents of the group. Nanna was swigging from a can of bourbon and coke. Allegedly. Not what we expected to see or hear out here in the Tasmanian wilderness. About 30 minutes later, they passed us again returning from whence they came, never to be sighted again.

It as we climbed the forestry trail that I began to hum The Road to Nowhere by Talking Heads from 1985. One of our group heard me and quipped that was she how she felt at the moment. We had been climbing on  the trail for some time.

Coral fungus.

It did not take long to reach the campsite after we left the trail. Awaiting us were some small tent sites and two tarps strung from the trees that would serve as shelter for the kitchen and for us to sit and chat and eat.

The first camp site.

Given the remote nature of where we were, toileting is obviously an issue. I shall explain this only once. Any tree can be a lavatory or lavatree. Ah, bush humour. For more substantial needs there was a trench away from the camp. It was limited so one needed to be mindful of usage. A spade across the path denoted occupancy.

A sight that became very familiar.

It had been a long day for everyone and the listed distance of 7km was well off target according to Strava and my Apple watch. As usual, once the sun went down, it was time for bed.

Fungi came in all shapes and colours.

Weather: humid, cloudy, no rain.

Distance covered: 13.2km

Until tomorrow.

 

I Still Call Australia Home (Purnululu National Park/The Bungle Bungles, Picaninny Creek, Cathedral Gorge)

Today is the THE DAY, after so many years of waiting and wanting, we are spending almost the entire day in Purnululu National Park or The Bungle Bungles, as they have been known since white fellas came to the area. Not even a Bruce McAvaney "special" can sum this up, dear reader. Although it is just so special.

I'm certain we stopped for morning and afternoon tea, somewhere, or carried it with us, but it is of no import today.

The domes and a local Grevillea.

There was a short drive from the lodge to a viewing spot in the national park. The beehive shaped domed are as impressive as I imagined. But beehive shaped? The only beehive I have ever seen shaped like a dome was in Yogi bear cartoons. Native bees in Australia hive in tree hollows, as do the European bees that have escaped the professional keepers.

The domes of Purnululu are another amazing piece of the landscape out here. I'm going to minimise the written text and let the pictures do the talking today, but first a brief lesson in the geology of the area. Thanks to https://www.kimberleyaustralia.com/bungle-bungles-ranges.html.

The domes are sandstone that was estimated to have been laid down around 350 million years ago. Weathering as a result of wind, rain, heat and cold wore away at the weaker sections of rock. This erosion is constant and ongoing today. Fault lines of weakness in the ground can be viewed from the air.

The darker layers in the rock have a higher clay content and as such hold more moisture than other layers. The moisture allows for the growth of cyanobacteria, a kind of primitive algae. This microorganism protects the layer in which it grows, which slows downs erosion. The orange colour in the remaining rock comes from oxidation of iron.

The view from Picaninny Lookout

Massive rainfall in the wet season has gradually carved out the softer rock and created the creeks, canyons, chasms and gorges that we see today.

Heading into Cathedral Gorge

Another Grevillea.

We commenced with our walk to Picaninny Lookout. Those feeling less confident detoured before the end point and headed straight to Cathedral Gorge where we all met up later in the day. I'm sorry the photos don't do it justice, I didn't have a lense with a wide enough aperture to capture the height.

You might recognise Cathedral Gorge from the Qantas ads featuring the Australian Youth Choir singing I Still Australia Home. Eventually. If the flight wasn't cancelled. Although their luggage probably didn't make it home. And I doubt they were flying using Frequent Flyer points, that's almost impossible. Sorry I digress. As you can tell my dear reader, my love affair with Qantas is well and truly over.

Anyway, today's title is the original Peter Allen version of the song.

The pool at Cathedral Gorge.

Colours changing as the sun moves.

The shapes, the colours, and the remote, unspoiled beauty of the area were marred by the relentless march of the introduced species, cane toads, across the top end. They were evident everywhere and are having a major, deleterious impact on native wildlife. Animals that try to eat the toad end up being poisoned and a program has commenced to try to train the locals not to eat the introduced pest.

A couple of young cane toads.

After we walked out of Cathedral Gorge, lunch was enjoyed at the HeliSpirit airstrip as we waited patiently for our flight over the national park. There were three different flights you could enjoy, 18 minutes or the longer 30 minutes, up to 42 minutes. Not being huge fans of flying in helicopters with no doors and only rudimentary seat belts, we opted for the shortest flight.

We scored the red helicopter.

Just as spectacular from the air.

In the meantime, I was kept entertained by the possibility of bird watching. There was an artificial pond near the administration building that had previously been host to some Gouldian Finches. I was sceptical about that, but there were plenty of other avian visitors that afternoon.

The range goes on forever.

This area was used to hold mustered cattle.

The chopper flight was magic and the domes of Purnululu looked even more spectacular from the air. Uluru is special because of its sheer size and domination of the surrounding landscape. Kata Tjuta engenders a magic cathedral-like spirituality. Purnululu is different again. It rises from the surrounding landscape without dominance of the rock or the spiritual feeling of 'The Olgas', but the shapes and colours create their own level of wonder and awe.

That evening, we adjourned to a local spot not far from the lodge to watch the sunset. Supposedly. We actually left for dinner before the sun had gone down completely. Aside from that, the colours weren't that great. I've seen better in Redfern. Watching the changing colours on the surrounding ranges is more impressive.

Colour changes on the mountains are worth watching.

A Kimberley sunset ... pretty average colour.

All in all, an awesome day.

Bucket list ticked.

Until next time.