Bring on the gorges

15-17 May, Purnululu

Right about now you are probably sick of hearing me say that “7 years ago we did this and that”, and you can be forgiven for thinking that I might as well just revisit my old blog and cut and paste. But we made a conscious decision that to some extent we would retrace our steps, so in some respects I guess I am repeating myself. But the world has changed so there are some differences, and I am relying upon you to be like me and forget what you read 7 years ago. Anyway, 7 years ago on our travels we visited Purnululu and were captivated, and so it is with great anticipation that we head down from Lake Argyle. One thing that I totally forgot from our last visit was the number of creek crossings on the hundred kilometres or so of rough gravel road that constituted the Purnululu National Park driveway. My father in law Trevor would know the exact number, but I just know it is lots. I think one reason I forgot was that last time most had no water in them, but not so this time. S still bears the scars from an expensive dip his vehicle recently took in a hole full of water just a little too deep, and my vehicle is still nice and shiny and new, so the thought of driving through puddles sends shivers up both our spines. The first few were approached with trepidation, but after that we were ok. It helped to know that there were a lot of vehicles ahead of us.

We knew that Purnululu would be busy so we booked ahead at the Walardi camping ground in the no generators area. But when we arrived there appeared to be no room at the inn, so we headed for the area where generators were allowed. A good outcome as it transpires, because the sites here are quite large, well situated on the bank of the creek, and not a generator to be heard. The only drawback was, you probably guessed it, the long trek to the toilets.

On the subject of toilets..... I think that those responsible for providing toilets in National and State parks are working to a key design principle of limiting the number of minutes spent by customers on their convenience, and it appears they achieve this outcome via various approaches. The most common approach of course is to attack one’s olfactory senses. A stinky toilet is possibly the best disincentive to lingering over a movement. Placement on the migratory path of fierce bullants or the breeding grounds of the most ferocious mosquitoes works a treat as well. And then there are those signs which play to our deepest fears by telling us about snakes. Devious chaps these dunny designers, but the Purnululu folk have gone to a whole new level. Instead of the robust thunderbox style seat you would find on a standard long drop toilet, or the porcelain pan of a normal flush toilet, these clever fellows have installed a flimsy stainless steel job which rocks and lurches when you sit on it, striking terror into the hearts of amply proportioned people such as I as we go about our business wondering if the whole arrangement is going to collapse in a pile of, well, you know what.

Purnululu has to be walked to be appreciated, so of course Beth thinks this is paradise, and in the two days that we are here it seems important that we cover as many of the walks as humanly possible. She does concede (reluctantly) that the 20 kilometre Piccaninny gorge walk is probably a bridge too far, but as for the rest, bring them on. Sadly for Beth, but perhaps thankfully for the rest of us, the escarpment walk was closed, but we did complete long walks to Echidna Chasm, Cathedral Gorge, Mini Palms Gorge, Homestead Gorge as well as short walks through the beehive domes and out to various lookouts. We topped 20,000 steps (some of them not all that easy) on both days we were here, but without a doubt the rewards warranted the effort.

Echidna Chasm was amazing, all the more so because we had the whole place to ourselves. Echidna Chasm involves a long walk through a deep and narrow fissure in the rocks, clambering over boulders and through narrow openings on the way to a chamber at the end which opens out a little. It is incredibly spectacular, but it appears the tourists only want to be here when the midday sun fills the chamber, providing a splendid play of light on coloured rock. Something that I am sure would be amazing, but not such a joy to share with 30 other people. Because we were out and about early, we enjoyed a different, more serene experience. I was very happy to trade the splendid light show for having the chasm all to ourselves. As we walked out of the chasm at around 11:00am, the stream of tourists clambering to get in vindicated our decision.

Mini Palms was a revelation. Although I was sure we had done this walk before, it didn’t ring any bells, but it was absolutely beautiful, following a standard pattern for walks here, a long stretch of rocky creek bed, followed by a scramble over rocks through a narrow pass, finally opening up into a wider gorge, in this case replete with tiny palm trees for which the gorge is named.

Cathedral Gorge, as the name suggests has the feel of an open air cathedral with the altar tucked under a massive rock overhang. Evidently the acoustics here are quite remarkable, which I demonstrated admirably. Not with a fine tenor voice, but with a high decibel sneeze. To see if we could work the acoustics in a more pleasant fashion we searched our iPhones for Leonard Cohen singing Hallelujah (S is a big fan of Leonard Cohen), but with no luck. No matter, Sara Brightman and Placido Domingo singing “Time to Say Goodbye” did the trick, although iPhone speakers lack the sheer power and intensity of my sneeze, and did not fill the cathedral quite so well.

Homestead Gorge was another beautiful walk, starting out as a trudge, but then building to a beautiful finale. I have to say though, I hate walks that promise something then do not deliver. If you embarked on a walk called “Homestead Walk”, what would you expect to find at the end? A homestead of course, but in this case there was none to be seen, just beautiful natural stuff. It appears that once upon a time it was rumoured that there may have been a homestead somewhere in this vicinity. I think secretly I was hoping for a homestead offering scones with jam and cream to weary hikers.

Purnululu is our first extended period without power, so we are relying heavily on our batteries. Although our little tent on wheels is quite frugal in its use of electricity, we decided to make a small investment this trip in portable solar panels to help top up our reserves when away from the grid. This required a small amount of rewiring which I did before we left. Unfortunately though, between rewiring and our departure date, the sun failed to shine in Melbourne, so I was unable to test the panels and more importantly my auto electrical capabilities . Purnululu provided the perfect opportunity to fire up our little power plant, and despite dire prognostications from Beth, all worked well. I even managed to set up a little harness so the panels sat snugly on the nose cone of the trailer, which by happy coincidence was facing north and getting good sun. As I stood back smugly to admire my handiwork I noticed that S had not one but four solar arrays spread out across the site gulping down huge chunks of sunshine and pumping it through great long pulsating cables to multiple batteries in his rig. A glance to the right revealed another traveller’s solar farm set up in the creek bed and generating enough electricity to power a small city. I looked again with some embarrassment at my miserable kit and have to admit to feeling a touch of solar envy.

Purnululu is quite difficult to get to, and once there you need to work hard again to visit the best places, but the rewards are so well worth the effort. It really is a wonderful place.

One of those creek crossings

Beth scrambling up Echidna Chasm

C wandering along Piccaninny Creek

S looking small in Cathedral Gorge

Mini Palms Gorge

Cathedral Gorge

I love the grasses here

The beehives. So many of them

Hmmm not sure where this one is

On the way to Mini Palms

Echidna Chasm

I really do love the grasses

Mini Palms

Homestead

Mini Palms

Tiptoeing through the rocks. Bliss

Homestead

More beehives

And even more

And more....

The plants spring from anywhere

A termites nest looking very much like a caped woman praying

Beth trying to figure out whic way to go next

18-19 May, El Questro

Initially our plan was to go from Purnululu to Parry’s Lagoon, but we caught wind of the fact that 500 cyclists and support crew doing the Gibb River Challenge bike ride were about to descend upon El Questro on our chosen dates. Much as we have fond memories of people we met who had done this ride last time we were here, we thought that it might be best to try to avoid the crowd and the inevitable carousing which comes with finishing a gruelling bike ride. So we changed our plans and headed straight to El Questro to beat the crowds, with a plan to retreat eastward before the arrival of the cyclists.

Beth and I love El Questro and have been singing its praises quite loudly. But after reading a few scathing reviews on WikiCamps (too expensive, unhelpful staff, filthy amenities.....) I was a little concerned that maybe we had overhyped the place. I know that it has recently changed hands, so maybe the new owners had made a mess of things. So it was with a little bit of anxiety that I crossed the Pentecost River (a little deeper than I remember) into the gates of El Questro.

Turns out I had nothing to worry about, El Questro is just as wonderful as I remember it. Beth keeps saying that if you do not have the time to cross the Gibb River Road, then go to El Questro (with a 4wd - a Jeep works quite well), it will give you an excellent snapshot of the Kimberley. It has gorges to explore, falls to ooh and ahh over, rocks to climb, lookouts to visit, rivers to cross, hot springs to luxuriate in and it also has coffee.

Beth has decided that a good gauge of the magnificence of a place is the presence of helicopters. There were helicopters aplenty at Katherine Gorge, even more at Purnululu, and as we pull into El Questro, what is the first thing we see? A helicopter taking off. This must be a magnificent place.

Because of the relentless approach of the pedallers, we only have 2 days to enjoy El Questro, which means that we need to be both organised and busy to fit everything in, which suits Beth fine.

Most things at El Questro (except coffee) need to be driven to, and rather than take 2 vehicles we decide that we will all travel in the Jeep, and because S is about ten feet tall it is decided that S and I should take the front seats and Beth and C the back seats, which of course means that I am the designated principal driver, a role I accept willingly because I know what fun there is to be had driving here.

Our stay was certainly action packed. A rough drive out to Explosion Gorge which involved a very rocky 6 minute river crossing and our first crocodile sighting; a drive up to Branco’s lookout to gaze along the Chamberlain river; a bone crushing drive down to Pigeon’s Billabong; and a drive up to Saddleback Ridge to watch the sunset (only to be attempted by experienced 4wd’ers evidently - guess what that makes me). Then on the way out we had a dip in the Zebedee hot springs, went for a walk to Amalia Gorge, and had a walk and swim at Emily Gorge. And to top it all off, lunch and coffee at the Emily Gorge restaurant. Phew, I feel tired just talking about it. But what delightful places these all were, and what fun climbing over the terrain in my little Jeep getting to them.

So phooey to you naysayers on WikiCamps, El Questro is a sensational place and well worth the money spent (although I am in no position to comment on the $2,000 a night homestead - I wish I were). The people were great, the things to see and do were magnificent, the amenities were clean, the sowed hot, and the campground very pleasant. You are all just a miserable bunch of whingers who I think are just too lazy to get off your backsides and enjoy what is in front of you. Rant over.

As we were leaving El Questro we encountered the first of the cyclists and their support teams, and boy did they look haggard. I do like the thought of a challenge, but this one is sheer craziness. Derby to El Questro on bicycles contending with corrugations, red dust, passing traffic (and associated dust), heat and distance. Oh, and did I mention dust. Last time we came up here we thought we had developed quite impressive suntans, until we had a decent shower and it all came off. These guys I think need a good soak to remove their tans.

Despite the exhausting schedule, I think that our crew enjoyed our little Kimberley induction, and now it is back to Kununurra or Wyndham or Parry’s lagoon or somewhere thereabouts to rest up for our assault on the Gibb river road.