Washpool - Gibraltar Range World Heritage Walk Archives

Great Ocean Walk (and a rather late finish on the last post)

A year on. I’m sitting in an enormous apartment suite in Apollo Bay, hiking gear askew around the room. A typical scene for a holiday. As always, and despite everything, I have pre-hike nerves. A nervous rolling in the belly that will only settle by taking the first steps on the trail, with or without all the gear I require.

Looking back, I realise I have been very slack, having not finished off the blog on the last walk! Life hey…it gets in the way of the best of intentions.

I do have my notes here with me, which I will now cordially disperse and see if any of it jogs my memory.

This is what I’ve got:

“Sharing camp with a goanna”….I don’t really remember it, but I assume I had a goanna slinking through my campsite.

“Murrumbooee Cascades”….Ah yes. This was my rest day. I was up very early on account of the heat. Made my way along a scenic path of several kilometres to reach the cascades. There was nobody there and the sunshine was beautiful. As it was still so early, the water was crisp with the overnight chill. I found a deep, little pool and in the early morning haze, jumped right in. I remember screaming with the cold.

“Dandahra Falls”…A side trip. Signage that described a steep and overgrown track. Signage that was correct. Eventually reaching the falls, dodging branches and sliding down gravelly banks. It was boiling hot, and there was no water….just the view of the narrow falls over yonder in the distance. I sat around with a family for a while, lamenting having come all the way to the bottom. We reluctantly returned to the top and I reached camp, a sweaty, dirt laden mess.

Still unsure if the walk was really worth it….

“Arvo @ favourite place Barra Nulla”….Best part of the walk. Relaxing all afternoon, mostly on my own, with my book. Dipping in and out of my perfect little bath-like waterhole whenever I liked. Perfection.

That is all the notes I took. I remember the rest day was great and I felt on top of the world finishing the final 10km, most of which was uphill, the following day. Another completed walk!

I’m excited about this trip. Can’t wait to see what the trail and weather gods have in store for me. Unseeasonal heat equals unseasonal storms equals tricky conditions. But hell, I’m training for Scotland next year, so perhaps I should be in the mindset of bring it on! (But gently please….)

No better feeling than being back at the beach.

Day 3 – WGR World Heritage Walk – 21.4km

It was a pleasant evening curled up in the sleeping bag listening to the boobooks gossip amongst themselves. I love hearing the boobooks so much! Back on Norfolk, a key component of my job is to try and conserve the Norfolk Island Morepork (morepork = kiwi term for boobook), one of the rarest birds in the world. They are actually a hybrid between the last remaining Norfolk morepork and a couple of NZ moreporks that were ferried to Norfolk in 1985 to try and save the species. We only have around 26 of these special birds left, and lack of genetic diversity makes it difficult for them to breed. Every single new chick is a little ecological miracle. And they are so close to the brink. So it is absolutely lovely to hear these boobooks calling with abandon.

I set my alarm with the intention of starting early, knowing it’s been so hot, and that this is the longest day of the walk. The air is cool and fresh when I awake, and I slip away before the rest of the camp stirs.

It’s a steep uphill to begin with. I use my fail safe technique and reach the top in no time. Before long, I move from a fire trail to a single lane track, which makes for the best of walking conditions. The feature of the morning, and what I’m looking out for, is the Dandahra Crags.

Following a stunning morning of eucalypts and warratahs, the lemony scent and the slash of colour, I pop out onto a vast yellow plain. Not a tree in sight. Muted, sun drenched colours. And the crags standing in silhouette, dominating the arid looking plain. It’s definitely time for a rest stop!

Bone dry creek, looking back to the treeline

I turn away from the crags and wander beside a foul smelling creek. The lack of water is obvious here. Bridges crossing bone dry dirt. Flies drone in the midday sun.

A crossroad. A sign. And a person. We say hello. He asks me about my pack. If nothing else, it’s a great conversation starter. He’s a day tripper and smells of pine fresh. We are headed the same way, so it’s time to get out of my comfort zone and initiate some awkward small talk. Turns out we had a bit in common. He was German, (not in common) but had lived in Australia for a long time. “Grew up” on the north coast of NSW (common), always goes hiking / camping on holidays (common), was a biology post doc (commonish), and was all about conservation (common). He told me he was working on a big make or break project, and would try for another year to achieve success. I asked what the project was. “Have you ever heard of…..maggot therapy?” he said. I have but, (not common). He was wanting to go back to the old days. Use maggots instead of antibiotics to cure wounds, especially on the battlefield. It was a rather fascinating, and wholly unexpected conversation.

I feel like we’d only just begun to delve into the topic when we rounded the corner, and there, like a mirage, was a huge, glorious swimming hole! My allegiances were torn. Find out more about the maggots. Or dive into the sparkling blue swimming hole after a hot, old day on the track. Is it telling of my personality to say there was no competition? The swim won out. I asked if he wanted to join me, but he explained he didn’t have his swimmers. I didn’t bother to explain that neither did I. That undies are the swimmers of the future.

I has thought that we might finish our conversation at the camp if he was there, but I never saw him again. I didn’t even get his name. I hope his rather extraordinary venture is successful. Meanwhile, I enjoyed a sublimely refreshing swim. In my underwear.

It was a quick 3km to camp. After wandering the campsite I found my pre-booked spot right in the very middle of all the action. Awash with “keep out” tape where the vegetation used to be. I sat at my table and looked around. Encircled by visitors on all sides. School holiday crowds. Very few privacy trees. Not even my personal tap was working.

It’s strange how these sorts of disappointments take on a whole extra level when you are solo hiking. Instead of just being independent, I have to go and ask somebody if I can fill my water at their tap. All around me are cars and every conceivable piece of comfort and gear, kids, and family and friends. I’m surprised by the feeling of loneliness and isolation I’m feeling. I’m supposed to be enjoying a “rest” day here tomorrow to experience all the local walks without the burden of my pack, but instead I find myself seriously considering just moving on. I unpack, feeling like a circus show exhibit, and decide to walk to the nearby Nulla Falls.

It is beautiful. Rockpools of all shapes and sizes, gushing water, and a feeling of calm. I’m the only one there. I sit and relax. Take in my surroundings. Realise I’m lucky, Realise I want to be there. Realise I don’t want to leave.

Back at camp, the groups are gathering around their campfires. I see people using all sorts of paraphernalia to get theirs alight. And even then, with trouble at times. The tiniest little tuft of grass. And patience. That’s all I need. Feeding the smallest of slithers from the firewood stack, slowly onto the flames. It makes me feel accomplished. Capable. A survivor. I decide I am definitely staying here another night.

Day 2 – WGR World Heritage Walk – 18.1 km

I slept amazingly well listening to the frogs happily chirping all night long. I wasn’t sure what had happened when I eventually woke up, hot in my tent, the sun streaming in. 8.15am! Unbelievable! Something about being the only camper in a walk-in only site makes me feel extremely secure. That, and the frogs.

So it was a late start whilst I had my cuppa and took stock of affairs.

Positive – I’d had a good night’s sleep, It was only 10km to Boundary camp with a few extra side trips. One 10 Amp battery pack working. A pack of matches (7 years old and thrown in at last minute) which are working.

Negatives – Dodgy bag. Supplies a little bit dodgy. Not enough coffee for one (terrible rookie mistake) and the coffee I did have hadn’t seen sunlight for more than 7 years and was two years expired. Same with my sunscreen (it’s a long story). Probably not quite enough unhealthy snacks. Pillow not replaced or repaired following previous trip, and, surprise surprise, it’s still deflating at night. One dead 20 Amp battery pack (checked but now not working – and bloody heavy!). A torch that must have turned on by itself and drained the battery. One bar left. The ignition on my stove no longer working. No cigarette lighter.

All in all, not too bad.

Negative – it is already blisteringly hot.

Positive – it is time to get going.

The start of the day was a nice, little uphill. Just to get the pulses flowing. At the top, five minutes later, I couldn’t bear it any longer, so stopped and readjusted my bag again. To my utter relief, whatever I did seemed to work a charm, because when I shouldered it again, it felt somewhat “pleasant”.

I set off, admiring the dry Australian bush with its hazy colours, delicate scent and abundant birdlife. An interesting looking rock stack loomed in the distance and provided a marker by which to measure distance walked.

A small sign indicted the turnoff to Duffer Falls, which I imagined to be a gloriously blue haven; cold water splashing and the thrum of the cascade. I hastily abandoned my pack, having long ago gotten over the fear of somebody stealing my belongings. Armed with just my water and small towel, I skipped along the path towards watery salvation. Down, down, down and down some more. Mildly beginning to question why I couldn’t hear the roar.

I reached the bottom to find a family, seated on the rocks, one small child running their hands through a meagre looking puddle. My despair must have shown, for they were quick to inform me that if I walked upstream a little, I would come to a “trickle” with enough water to lie in. This sounded like better than nothing to me!

A short clamber, and there, as promised, was the pool looking majestic in the heat, despite it’s lack of grandeur. With the place to myself, I stripped and breathed a sigh of joy and anticipation as the rush of the icy cold water hit my sweltering body. Nothing like cooling off on a hot day, and reaping the reward for effort.

As I set off for the top I passed another small family who had just reached the bottom. I recognised the despair on their faces as they surveyed the parched scene. With a grin I let them know that if they just walked upstream a little they would come to a trickle, enough to swim! Smiles ensued.

Back at the top, with just 3km to camp, I powered along the mostly flat track, aiming to arrive relatively early and beat the afternoon heat. Off to the side of the track, a red beacon glinted at me, and I turned to stare. A beautiful Gilbralter Range Warratah, so graceful in its blatant beauty, a solo pop of colour in the pale greens and yellows of the bush.

The oh, so special Gibraltar Range Warratah

On arrival at camp, I set up at my designated camp site and gulped down some water. Too hot to lie in the tent, I dawdled around the campsite visiting Lyrebird Falls and then braving the stairs to Boundary Pool. This was more like what I had envisaged earlier in the day with a cascading torrent, black water that you know even before feeling it is going to be cold, and logs and debris scattered along the shore. Another bracing swim!

Boundary Pool complete with roaring waterfall

A pleasant day was topped off with a spot of spotlighting in the evening, scaring Euros (and myself!) in the process! Tomorrow is the longest day of the walk!

Day 1 – WGR World Heritage Walk

Washpool loop – 8.5km

Coombadjha to Grassy Camp – 7.5km

I was up early, ready and raring to go. The plan for today was to walk the Washpool circuit track sans backpack, before heading towards the intended campsite for the night, 7.5km away.

The Washpool circuit track was great. Terrific scenery and a good introductory workout for the body. Drifting between lush, green rainforest and dry, brittle schlerophyll meant birdlife was abundant.

Differing shades of greenery on the tracks

The very first creature I saw was a nimble, little grey fantail. Straight away I am struck by the little reminder of home. The whipbirds were strenuous in their cries, whilst catbirds yowled in their mimicry. Russett coloured rufous fantails flitted through the understory and Eastern yellow robins repeatedly drew the eyes with their splendid pop of colour.

A highlight of the walk was staring up at two enormous cedar trees, both supporting an abundant array of epiphytes and wildlife. With an estimated age of over 1000 years old, it was impossible to look at these twin giants without feeling both a sense of awe and sadness, so aged and alone in the bush.

Back at the carpark I grabbed my bag, did a last check of my supplies and got cracking.

Now this wasn’t without a certain level of trepidation. I knew that my bag wasn’t exactly in tip top shape after the last walk. I hadn’t spent a lot of time on preparation, taking basically just a throw everything in the bag approach. And, the family I met the previously night had told me the Grassy campsite was “awful”. No facilities, hot, with hundreds of flies. They had pushed their young kids on rather than staying there. So it was with some nerves that I set off.

I should really be enjoying the cool of the rainforest and bubbling of the water whilst I can….it’s about to get HOT!

It didn’t take long for the landscape to change from thick, wet, green to bare, dry, brown. I should have expected it. Most of Australia looks this way. Recovering landscape in one way or another. Although still pleasant, I had now moved from a single track to a sparse, new fire trail and the level of heat intensity rose dramatically.

Granitic boulders start to dominate the landscape

My bag also wasn’t feeling quite…right. Painful on the shoulders in a way it normally isn’t. You all know I love Aarns. And this one has done over 2000km now, so I really can’t complain. But you change just one little thing and everything is connected to everything else and cascades into….chaos. As I’ve said before. Sometimes I wish they were simpler. I stopped a few times, made adjustments, and continued on.

I was starting to feel a little hot and bothered as I staggered my way into camp. I have done absolutely no training for this (and don’t I feel it!) So it is an absolutely incredible surprise to find that the Grassy Camp is wonderful! A choice of tree scrub or creek lined grassy sites, firepits, a table and best of all, a babbling creek bountiful in frog song. I loved it. Perhaps I’m just more used to this type of no-facilities site, but this had everything I was looking for.

I quickly set up camp beside the tea coloured creek before plunging into the icy waters. No one around, so you know what that means! Somebody had left a nice load of campfire nearby, so I warmed up by the fire and enjoyed a relaxing afternoon. A reminder that with the tough times comes great reward and experiences.

Swimming hole reflections before I disturbed the calm, screaming at the joy of the ice, cold water.

A little, bitty walk….

Washpool – Gibraltar Range World Heritage Walk, 45km plus side trips.

Well. Here I am again…walking. Trying to get the head straight. I am SO looking forward to this!

It’s been close to a year since finishing the first section of the Te Araroa trail. It feels like so long ago. So much has happened. Some good. Some not so good. Some a bit of both. Overall, it’s been a bit of a tough time.

I’m back solo walking. Is that enough information to explain the situation? I’m not going into it. The HOSC and I are still friends. May even do some more walking together at some stage. But for now, it’s back to being wonder woman on my own.

For the first time in an age, this walk hadn’t been the focus of my trip. Instead, I’ve been getting out of my comfort zone, catching up with long lost friends and attending my 30 year reunion. Yup. 30 years.

So this walk is really just intended to be an enjoyable little escapade from what has been an intensely social (and awesome) holiday. My plan is to take things a little slower and really focus on enjoying my time in the bush.

This walk is a little, bitty one that links two world heritage National Parks, located between Glen Innes and Grafton. The walk itself is a loop walk of 45km, with another 30km or so of side tracks if you’re game.

I begin the walk at Coombadjha campsite. Park the car, cross a small creek, and walk all your gear into a large grassy area fringed by spacious, shady sites with picnic tables and fire pits. Not bad at all!! There’s even wood near the pit toilet if you fancy a fire.

I really enjoy setting up my space, the procedure to follow now inbuilt in my brain. For a while I suspect I’m going to be the only camper there. It’s rainy, misty and getting on towards dark. Kids yelling loudly signals a large family group entering the campsite, everybody shouldering their portion of the gear. Another straggler, looking like they’ve got supplies and equipment to hole up in this spot for a week, arrives shortly after.

After dinner (Vietnamese noodles!) I grab my torch and adventure along a small loop trail near the campsite. The white limbs of the eucalypts look surreal in the torch beams. Beady eyes glint back at me down by the creek, water plopping as creatures dive from the light.

I feel cosy in my little tent. Like coming home. The rain pitter patters softly all night long and I luxuriate in my warm bedding feeling very much at peace with the world.