Trip 3:Wednesday, August 30 Part 1

I awoke a few times during the night and, looking up at the stars and tree branches, I felt completely alone and removed from the world. It’s as if even the tent is a reminder of civilization, and peeling away that last layer made me feel completely free.

Dawn was beautiful and cool and musical. This area seems so beautiful this morning, though it is not really an area one would identify as beautiful. It’s just so perfectly removed from everything.

We rolled up our swags and gathered around the fire for tea and breakfast. I was warming my cup of tea over the fire when Shirley said, “Isn’t this when you miss your microwave?” Somehow, that intrusion of civilization, even just spoken, induced something between panic and melancholy in me. The thought of being anywhere other than the middle of nowhere, sleeping under the stars, seemed horrifying at that moment. I don’t know if it’s Australia I love so much, or this lifestyle, or if the two are so interwoven in my mind that there’s no way to separate them, but right now this is the only place I want to be. Anyway, I reminded myself, with gratitude, that I have five more days out here. (And yes, I do know that I would not survive for long in the wilderness, and that to a certain extent the wilderness would be less attractive if it weren’t balanced by “the real world,” but it’s where I need to be right now.)

We packed our gear and headed back down from the plateau, returning to King Edward River to pick up the trailer we’d left behind.

We hadn’t gotten much farther along when a loud thump got John’s attention, and we stopped to find a nut missing from the trailer hitch. Most of the group went in search of the missing piece, and we were stopped for a while. The nut was never found, but John and Don worked diligently to jury-rig an alternative.

Enforced Stop

About an hour later, we were on our way again, retracing the miles back to the Gibb River Rd. Green parrots, galahs, and butcherbirds accompanied us as we drove. Wonderful. We drove straight through to Drysdale Station, were we stopped for lunch. Here, John was able to buy a new nut and bolt for the trailer and got it repaired. (It is not unusual for people out this way to stock all sorts of things for repairing vehicles—though one would want to make sure to not drive out here in something rare and exotic—pick something common, and you’ll always be able to find parts.) We were soon back on the road—have to make up for lost time, to get to our evening destination (don’t think these are roads one would want to negotiate in the dark).

Advertisement

August 29, Part 2

Our little chopper (smaller than the one at the Bungles) was once again devoid of doors that might hamper our view of the scenery below. Once again, my companions claimed the back seat, which delighted me. I had an amazing view and nothing to obstruct my photos.

The helicopter lifted off precisely on time, dipped slightly as it turned and, gaining altitude, headed for the coast. The ground below us alternated between rocky outcrop and tree-dotted savannah, before intensifying into a deeper greens as we neared the coast. Before long, the brilliant turquoise of the ocean appeared on the horizon. Islands floated on the sea. We edged out over the water at Crystal Point, searching the mangrove-lined tidal pools below us for crocs and the coastal waters for sharks and rays. We saw one huge manta ray surface, then dive. Otherwise, our pilot said, the tide was still too high for much of a show. Gray swirls of mud made curving patterns in the turquoise bays below, where the tidal rivers emptied into the ocean.

We followed the brilliant turquoise water and bright green mangroves and tea trees along the winding coast to the mouth of the Mitchell River, then followed the river up to the impressive falls. The river gorge was largely in shadow, but the sun caught the edge of the lower falls, making it a white slash in the darkness. Wonderful. We could see great flocks of cockatoos flying below us, and a pelican landing on the river. After giving us numerous excellent photo-ops, the pilot turned for the heliport and our “home” for the evening.

With the wind rushing past us in the doorless chopper, we were quite cool. It was a real shock when we landed and started walking back to the 4WD in the now stunningly hot sunlight. Very few of the customary afternoon clouds have gathered. I’m glad I did the hike this morning. A breeze makes the heat close to bearable, but only if you stay in the shade. It must be 110˚ again.

At the end of our flight, coming back down to earth also meant paying for the flight. It amused me when the pilot sat down on the ground, an old credit card device in front of him in the dust, and took our payments. Nowhere so remote that you can’t still take care of business.

Evening brought some relief from the heat, though the rocks retained much of the warmth. But compared to the heat of the afternoon, it seemed fairly comfortable. Enjoyed another evening of good company, good food, and dazzling star show overhead. Wonderful, rewarding day.

Trip 3:Tuesday, August 29 Part 1

Rose to a beautiful but wet morning. A heavy dew covered the ground, the tents, and our bags. We shook things out and tried to dry them as best we could before packing them up. We prepared carefully, since we’re leaving the tents and our luggage behind. We’ll just take a spare shirt and socks, cups, sleeping bags, and swim suits. Our drive today will be much too rough to pull the trailer that carries all our gear, so we’ll really be roughing it tonight.

Flies are bad here—not as bad as at Menu Camp, but the worst since then. (We were told that there were two bad places, so this must be number two.) Hard to write and swat flies at the same time.

Packed and on the “road” by 7:30. Driving was much rough, and even without the trailer, the 4WD, and John’s driving skills, were put to the test. Then up and onto the Mitchell Plateau. Livistona palms—slender, tall palms with dark fronds that are also known sometimes as fan palms or cabbage palms—began to outnumber eucalypts.

After a couple of hours of driving that was more reminiscent of bronco busting, we arrived at our rather desolate, rocky bush camp. We locked up the 4WD, then most of us started along the track to Mitchell Falls.

The three who did not join us on our hike headed for the helicopter pad nearby. They will get a one-hour tour, out over the wilderness and along the coastline, then will be dropped near the top of Mitchell Falls in time to join us for lunch. Then after lunch, three others (including me) will board the helicopter for our one-hour tour, ending back at the heliport near camp.
The hike in was fabulous, if rugged. I’m recovered enough by now from both jet lag and my fall in Kununurra to manage the climbing and scrambling quite well. The climbing was up and down huge boulders, which were generally in the shade. Only the flat parts of the hike were really hot and unprotected.

Hiking In

It took us about one and a half hours to reach the river above the first part of the falls. (Mitchell Falls is actually a series of increasingly impressive waterfalls.) The spot was spectacular, with shattered and worn rocks all around, and pandanus and paperbark trees in spots along the water.

Our long walk was rewarded with a dip in the clear, cool river. (We had our swimsuits in our day packs, so were prepared for this.) The water was as clear as crystal. Even while swimming we could see the bottom. We got out for a few minutes, to eat a light lunch, then had another quick swim before dressing for our helicopter ride (or the hike back for those not taking to the skies).

August 28, Part 2

We finally stopped at a remote spot where incredible rock formations surrounded us. We were here to explore Wanjina rock art. The Wanjina are mythical ancestral beings, elemental spirit beings that originated in the sea and sky. It is believed the older paintings are at least 4,000 years old, though some paintings in this region are made or renewed even today. The figures are alien-looking beings, with large eyes and no mouths.

Wanjina Spirit Figures

After spending a fair bit of time examining and learning about the paintings, we continued exploring the area. The rocks are astonishingly shattered and worn, with roots prying open cracks and trees perching on ledges. One rock looked to me like a huge face. We saw a gigantic spider–bigger than my hand, even with fingers spread—and gave it wide berth. (We were later told that it was not a type we needed to worry about.) Everything else was fascinating and quite wonderful.

Then on to our campsite, which was not far beyond, at a site on the King Edward River. Here, rocks jut up at one end of camp, and the river runs along one side of the small bit of flat area where our tents are to be put up. Pandanus and huge paperbarks cluster along the riverbanks, and rock slabs rise up from or slope into the water in various places. Large numbers of ducks sat on the far shore, watching us was we set up camp.

King Edward River

With camp up, it was time for a dip in the clear water. The submerged parts of the rocks along the water’s edge were covered with some sort of moss or algae that made them unbelievably slippery. If a rock was at a slant, you couldn’t stand, or even sit in one place—you’d just keep sliding. It made getting into and especially getting out of the water a bit challenging–though it was definitely worth the effort.

As the sun began to approach the horizon, more birds began to arrive and/or began singing. Butcherbirds, whistling kites, cockatoos, and myriad unknowns joined us in camp. Other than the heat and flies, this could be paradise.

The sunset was beautiful. The moon was the tiniest sliver in the darkening sky. The cockatoos have squawked good night. Mim is preparing damper for us to enjoy after dinner.

The heat from our cooking fire drove a big spider out into the open, and it disappeared in the dark. Then a grasshopper jumped down the back of my neck. These generated a half hour of bug and spider stories. But then conversation returned to adventures in Australia–those we’d all had and those we anticipated in the morning. Nice evening.