17 August 2019
We have left the plains and have found our oasis. What a change of scenery. Throughout the past days and weeks we have been driving across vast open plains dotted with small country towns and the odd sign to some massive open cut or underground mine. We have been entertained by mobs of cattle being driven along the stock routes and have kept our eye out for massive road trains that frequent these roads.
We have now reached an oasis in the true sense with forests, shady palm trees, and creeks that never stop flowing. Carnarvon Gorge is a green gem hidden away in the sandstone escarpment that lines the horizon. We have been here before, some 6 years ago when access was via 40 km of dirt road that included three creek crossings. Now the road is sealed and available to all those who ‘don’t do’ dirt roads. It’s popularity grows.
We spent four days exploring the highlights of the gorge. From rock art estimated to be over 3,500 years old to tree ferns only found in this gorge and a few other places along the coast 100s of kilometres away. These ferns only grow in running water which means the creek in which they grow has not stopped flowing in a very long time.
In the evening you can watch platypuses swim in the creek as you wonder how did they get here. You have just driven across a dry open plain and then you find a platypus joyfully exploring the bottom of the creek looking for food.
The gorge includes a formation called the Amphitheatre which is a hollowed out section of the sandstone cliff. To gain entry into the Amphitheatre you climb up a series of ladders and through a narrow gap in the cliff. You are suddenly surrounded by huge cliffs and silence. A place for quiet contemplation and your own thoughts.
The Moss Garden is dripping with water seeping from the sandstone. The water is estimated to be 1000s of years old. This water could have fallen as rain while the Egyptians were building the pyramids. That blows my mind.
A walk to the top of the escarpment offers a view of the gorge and out across the plains we will cross when we depart this exceptional place.
We are now heading south and toward home however we will delay the inevitable as long as possible. We have reached country where it is no longer kites clearing the roadkill but common ravens (crows). Road trains are becoming less common as we get closer to more populated country.
The windscreen has collected more chips and the crack continues to grow. We have also just missed a steer that suddenly decided it wanted to be on the other side of the road. It was almost a hood ornament.
One more week ……..
A Traveller's Tale 