So today I started the Stronglifts
work-outs again, after over a year hiatus. It was pretty sad as I
had to go right back to starting weights, except on the bench-press
where I managed to start a whole 2.5 kg higher than “never lifted
anything heavier than a cup-cake.” Does this mean I have hugely
strong chest muscles and wasted lower extremities or have I been
eating too many cup-cakes? On the down-side, it's kinda scary how
fast you lose strength, but, as I always like to think “if you are
lying face down in the gutter, the only way out is up.”
Anyway, after I recovered from that, I
got on my bike and cycled up to Barron Gorge as there is rumored to
be some small climbing crags up there. On the way there, I passed
this interesting sign by a big poison (sugar cane) field where you
get a view up to Stony Creek and Barron Gorge. Before all the toxic
sugar cane was planted here, this land was actually used to grow real
food like fruits and vegetables!
Freshwater Valley Heritage Sign
In 1879, there was also a rice mill on
this spot that was owned and operated by Joseph Kipling, nephew of
Rudyard Kipling.
I snapped my own picture of the view,
toxic sugar cane in the foreground and then carried on towards Barron
Gorge.
Freshwater Valley today with poison growing in the foreground
I cruised along Lower Freshwater Road
until I reached Kamerunga Environmental Park where you can get on a
nice pathway that takes you to an old weir across the Barron River.
A bunch of council workers were sitting by the weir having their
usual three hour smoko break before working a desultory hour on the
weir until it was time for their next smoko. I just cruised on by.
The sight of someone exercising could be enough to shock them into
some kind of coma so I didn't think it wise to stop and chat.
To get to Barron Gorge, you have to
ride up the appropriately named “Barron Gorge Road”. I wasn't
really looking forward to this. This road should make a nice bicycle
ride as it is shaded by big rainforest trees, has lots of access
points to the river if you want a swim, and is just steep enough to
easily ride up while giving you a good cruise on the way down. But,
it's pretty narrow and I didn't fancy riding my bicycle beside
crazed Australian drivers whose diet is composed almost entirely of
pies, cakes and biscuits (Australian for cookies) and who are driving
like maniacs because they are either coming down hard off a sugar
high and craving a fix or feeling euphoric as the latest lamington spikes their blood sugar.
Not too far along the road I came to a
big boulder called variously Split or Hinge Boulder. One of the
local “climbing” companies uses this boulder for abseiling and
climbing. I scrambled on top, around, through and over the boulder
and my guess is a lot more abseiling gets done than climbing. On the
uphill side, the boulder is only about 3 or 4 metres high and not
really worth hauling a rope out for. While the downhill side is much
higher, it is also situated in dense rainforest and is consequently
seriously greasy. You could probably boulder here, but there are
better bouldering sites around. There is a big cleft in the rock
that houses a small colony of bats and is apparently part of the
“experience” when you come abseiling here. For some reason I
felt compelled to “experience” scrambling inside scaring out a
few bats.
Looking out of the bat cave
The anchor bolts on top of Split Rock
are pretty scary looking. Not only is a huge expanse of bolt
protruding, but they are very rusty. I'm not sure I would be all
that happy using them as abseil anchors, but, to date, they must have
sustained the weight of at least a few dozen happy Australian
abseilers. Aussies are inordinately fond of abseiling, which, to a
climber is inexplicable as abseiling is just something you do as part
of a climb not as a sport in its own right. It's a sort of zero
skill activity with no appeal except as a way to get off a climb.
Typical scary looking Aussie bolt
There are two interesting things about
Split Boulder. One is the nice big swimming hole right below the
boulder, and the other is this cool fig tree that has swallowed up a
smaller boulder with its roots.
Fig tree eats boulder
Anyway, after fully scoping out Split
Boulder and deciding it was not worth coming back to, I rode up to
the end of the road and the power station buildings. I had sketchy
directions for finding three other crags and can only be certain I
found Radiation Wall as that is the only crag with a photo on-line.
I locked up the bike and walked down to the river and, after
scrambling around upstream for a distance I found Radiation Wall and
snapped a picture. Another little crag not worth coming back to.
Radiation Wall
By this time I was quite close to
Surprise Falls so I decided to go over and see if I could find the
old trail that used to lead up the west side of the gorge. A little
cement retaining wall holds in a dark pool of black water and, on the
north side of this, if you push through a cyclone fence (hole in the
bottom) you will find the old trail to Surprise Falls. I think this
trail has been closed since around 2000 when Cyclone Steve came
through. It would be interesting to try and walk up the track but
you may not get very far as vegetation grows pretty fast around this
area.
Start of Surprise Falls trail
Finally, I set off downstream looking
for Macka's Bluff. Apparently, some dude started the Aussie trend of
“rap jumping” here way back in 1989. Rap jumping is supposed to be a "highly advanced form of freestyle rope work" that somehow enables you to "live life to the fullest." But I think that might just be bullsh*t advertising. The directions I had managed to find on the internet
weren't all that clear and I didn't find anything that could possibly
have “6 jump faces” as Macka's Bluff is advertised to have. It
wasn't until I came back home and dug around a bit more on the
internet that I worked out that Macka's Bluff is below the big cliffs
that have a retaining wall built around them to prevent rock falling
onto the road. I found a series of bizarre videos of people
“jumping” off this eminence labelled things like “star” jump
and “big” jump. Strangely nothing was labelling “f**king
stupid jump.” Curiosity will probably impel me to go back up and
check out Macka's Bluff if for nothing more than a sense of history
gone by.
Pools on the Barron River
The last thing I did before riding home
was have a swim in one of the pools on the river. This cooled me
down for round about 10 minutes while I sailed down the road, but,
once I got back into the cane fields near Freshwater, I was dripping
out sweat again. As I came back over the weir on the Barron River I
was surprised to see all the workmen up and on their feet. Musta
been that short interval called work between smoko breaks.
No comments:
Post a Comment