Tuesday June 19

Here we are, back in Kununurra safe and sound (of body as well as mind, I am sure you will be pleased to know) and what an absolutely wonderful time we have had – eight days of amazing places, for which taking the tents was just perfect. 

Left Kununurra, as planned, on Sunday June 10 and made the relatively short journey along the Victoria Highway to the Gibb River Road – all very exciting! Stopped at the intersection to let some air out of the tyres, ready for the dirt roads, about which we had heard so many different tales, including some dire predictions about the state of the road up to the Mitchell Plateau.

We then set off on the 69km trip to the day’s destination - Home Valley Station.  This part of the road was pretty good and the scenery was astounding – the dramatic Cockburn Range escarpment rising above the floodplain of the Pentecost River elicited constant exclamations of amazement.  We very quickly discovered that trying to take photos of this ancient landscape is almost impossible – the vastness just cannot be captured with a regular camera.

Just before Home Valley we crossed the Pentecost River – our first proper river crossing.  We had waited for low tide, so although the river is quite wide it was not disturbingly deep and we made the rocky crossing with ease.  The views back from the river to the Cockburn Range were incredible and despite our despair at trying to do the scenes justice, here is the attempt to capture the scene.

Home Valley Station, which was the setting for the film ‘Australia’, was purchased by the Indigenous Land Corporation and as a working cattle station and tourism destination, aims to provide an economic base and training and employment opportunities for traditional owners.  We chose to camp out by the Pentecost and again, what a view across the river to the Cockburn Ranges.  The river is very tidal as we were not really that far from Wyndham, as that crow flies (a very busy crow!) and Murray was very excited to get the fishing rod out once we had set up camp.

Although a group of young Aboriginal women who were at the station as trainees and who were fishing beside him had some luck and even shared some of their bait, Murray only managed to catch a couple of Catfish rather than the big barra for which he had hoped.  We did, however, discover that Catfish make the most amazing noises as he was taking them off his line and returning them to the river.  Despite the hardy souls of Lake Argyle marketing Catfish as Silver Cobbler, we and many others, reckon it is pretty awful to eat, so all were duly returned to their homes.

We were then able to watch the sun set across the river.  Each time I decided that no more photos were to be taken, the colours changed again and I have chosen just two to share with you.  The reflections in the river were beautiful and we kept thinking how incredible they would be if it was high tide.

Next morning we were again up good and early – we have by now just adapted to working with the sunrise and sunset, so we had breakfast and packed up as we watched the sunrise affect the colours of the ranges.  Another moment of realising how lucky we are!  

Left the Station, crossed the Durack River and up the Gibb towards the Kalumburu Road turn-off.  Travelled through all different types of terrain – spinifex grasslands, open woodland, paperbark forests with lots of what I now know are Bauhinia in the wetter areas and in the many creek crossings lots of Pandanus and smaller plants which enjoy these environments.  The fact that we were not trying to set any sort of land speed record meant that we could see some of the animals and birds which were about and we were rewarded with sightings of dingos and this beautiful monitor.

As we turned towards Drysdale River Station we really felt like a new part of the adventure had started.  Whilst enjoying a coffee break at the Kalumburu Road intersection, Ian spied this gorgeous little dragon sunning itself - reptiles everywhere! I now think it is a Gilberts Dragon.

The roads weren’t too bad - quite a lot of creek crossings with some fairly steep jump-ups and corrugated sections followed by others which were like a dirt highway.  As always, driving sensibly and to the conditions meant there were no problems.  Our usual early start meant that we were set up at the Drysdale River Station campground by midday, which left plenty of time for exploring.  Murray elected to have a swim in the nearby Miners Pool (ever the coward, I declared it was too cold), so here he is amongst the Pandanus.  The paperbarks which also grew here are enormous – we had no idea they grow so large.  One of the species, the Weeping Paperbark, grows up to 30 metres high.

Spent some time around the campfire over at the restaurant that evening and had a fascinating conversation with the daughter of the owners of the property and her husband.  Drysdale is one million acres and they muster 10,000 cattle for sale every year, but they get only $80 a head for them and the costs associated with mustering and transport (financial as well as the well-being of the cattle) are huge.  The money generated by tourism must be a life saver.

Off early on Tuesday to travel the 170km to the Ngauwudu (Mitchell Plateau) campground.  Almost as soon as we left we started to see a few of the Mitchell Plateau Fan Palms (Livistona eastonii), another of the Livistona species which grow in the Kimberly.  Once we turned on to the road up to the Plateau, they became the dominant understorey species and looked just amazing.  Despite the difficult of trying to take photos of these things, we have tried.

We were, as always, fascinated by the range of plant communities related to the physical environments through which we were travelling – woodland, rainforest patches, grassland, shrubland and aquatic.  As we drove up we were not aware of the details of all this but learnt more once we were set up in the campground, which was fantastic – one of the most wondrous places in which we have ever stayed.  You could just sense that you were somewhere special!

Made sure we booked our helicopter flight up to Punamii-unpuu (Mitchell Falls) as soon as the tents were up and then set about investigating.  Murray did a quick reccy along the track to Little Mertens Falls to see if I could manage it and having decided that I could successfully negotiate the rocks and up and downs, off we went for a superb swim in the pool under the falls.  As you can see, it was just blissful and not only because it was very hot!

Next morning Sue and Ian and Murray and I boarded our helicopter for the six minute flight up to the Punamii-unpuu  The views across the Plateau were, of course, just breathtaking and as we approached the falls and did a couple of loops for photos it became even more so.  This is the only tiered falls in the Kimberly and the few bumps and jiggles we had lived through as we drove up were immediately forgotten!

We all spent about an hour walking around the rocks and taking yet more photos of the falls from the other side of the river - more magical views (I need someone to invent more words of exclamation and delight so I don’t have to keep repeating the same ones!).

I then hopped on to the helicopter for the short trip back to the campground and Murray and Sue and Ian set off to cross the Mitchell River and start the 3.5km walk back.  We had decided that the couple of steep sections (from one of which a poor lady had fallen a couple of days before) rendered me and my deficient balance a less than sensible walker, hence the flight back.


I spent my time back at camp enjoying the absolute quiet (everyone else was off walking) and watching for birds.  I was entranced to have a family of Red-backed Fairy Wrens flitting around right next to me and marvelled at the beauty of the male bird whilst cursing that my camera was not at hand.  There were lots of Pied Butcherbirds, Little Friarbirds and Double-barred Finches around, along with many other birds which I could hear but not see well enough to identify – the on-going frustrations of the very amateur bird watcher!

Murray and the others were back in about two and half hours, having enjoyed the wonderful sights along the way – the Mitchell River from above the falls, Big Merten Falls and the many pools. 











Murray also clambered over Merten Creek and up the rocks to take photos of the Gwion (or Bradshaw) rock art:

This style of art work depicts humans in ceremonial garb and almost all early examples are painted in red.  A minimum age of 17,000 years has been established – what a privilege to be able to share this priceless heritage.  There were more paintings behind Little Merten Falls and the view from behind the falls was pretty special too!

As another swim was in order, Murray and I wandered back to the creek where there was a lovely pool amongst the Pandanus.  Sitting on the rocks and letting the water wash over you is an absolutely wondrous way to cool off.

On Thursday morning we once again awoke(early) to an absolute bird chorus and marvelled at the call of the  Pied Butcherbirds, which at times closely resembles the carolling of the magpie.  Very reluctantly packed up and started the journey back to Drysdale River Station. Soon after leaving the campground we saw a pair of Euro and a dingo, so what lovely last memories.

Were on the road early again on Friday morning and once again enjoyed the delights of such travel when we were able to stop and watch a very imperious-looking Australian Bustard walk along the side of the road.

Once we were back on the Gibb River Road and travelling towards Home Valley, we were treated to the superb views one gets of the Cockburn Ranges as you drive towards it rather than away from it.  Sadly it was a bit hazy, so the colours weren’t as brilliant as they might have been, but we enjoyed it nevertheless.

Back over the Pentecost River and from there we were soon driving into El Questro.  We had two lovely relaxing days camped here, again by the Pentecost.  Enjoyed walks through the riverside vegetation and took in the views of the Pentecost floodplain and the surrounding ranges from Saddleback Ridge.

We swam in the Pentecost (the guaranteed crocodile-free pools!) in the afternoons – an ideal way to cool down in the heat of the day and enjoyed a leisurely soak in Zebedee Springs, a beautiful Pandanus-shaded thermal pool where the water comes out of the earth at a very pleasant 28 degrees. 

Took a drive out to Chamberlain Gorge, the one on which the up-market El Questro Homestead that you see in all the marketing is situated.  We campers, of course, could not get close to this area, but the gorge and river upstream of the homestead are also very picturesque.  Huge rock walls which look like someone with a set square and ruler has divided the sandstone into huge regular blocks rose from the river.

Monday morning saw us packing up with the same sort of feeling that you have when returning home after a wonderful holiday and even though we know we have many special places ahead of us, this eight days has been wonderful indeed.  The camping has been just perfect too and has allowed for that close connection that a caravan does not quite manage.

So now we are back in Kununurra, getting ready for the next highlight – our three nights in Purnululu (Bungle Bungles).  We will drive down there tomorrow and leave the vans in a caravan park nearby before once again taking to the tent.  We have heard from many that this has been their favourite place, so we will see . . .

Had a ‘farewell to Kununurra’ walk in the tiny but beautiful Mirima National Park on the edge of town – lots more of the weathered and tiered sandstone which characterises this part of the Kimberly.

I will finish this post with a bit of self-indulgence – a poem I wrote while we were nearing the Mitchell Plateau.  A dingo had crossed the road in front of us and rather than seeming fearful, had stopped to check us out once safely across. I have never before felt the ‘urge’ to write a poem (except for Kris Kringles and other such things), so who knows what is going on!

Curious

The eerie howl of the dingo

Wafts through the chill of the night,

Wistful rather than scary,

Out here it is fitting and right.

We’ve seen them too as we’ve driven,

Along many a dusty red track.

Crossing swiftly before us,

Then stopping, before looking back.

Yellow, like the tall spinifex,

He stands in the trees’ dappled light.

Look carefully lest you should miss him –

Curious, yet ready for flight.

What do they think as they watch us?

These creatures oft reviled as a pest.

Do they realise how we have changed things,

With resource exploitation our quest.

To hear their haunting calls,

Is to be part of the magic of this land.

This ancient and beautiful country,

With its sunsets and endless red sand.

So do we care enough to protect it?

Ensure that it will ever be,

Conserved with its hundreds of species –

Rugged, magnificent and free . . .

Free of the shriek of the chainsaw,

The might of the dozer and truck.

Here for all time as it should be –

Through choice, not merely good luck.