Can you guess it is still raining in
Cairns? About 120 mm yesterday and the forecast looking wet as far
as it stretches. Time for another wander down memory lane, not too
far this time, only back to May of 2013 when Doug and I did a two day
walk through Sundown National Park in southeast Queensland. You
might have thought after yesterday's cliff hangar ending that I would
describe some kind of epic, wild and crazy paddling trip around
Mallacoota Inlet. But, that's not how it was. We had one day
paddling what is creatively called “Top Lake” and one day on
“Bottom Lake.” Both were actually quite wonderful, and, as I
have started and it's raining, I may as well briefly describe them
here.
Paddling down the inlet
We launched at Gypsy Point on Top Lake
which is quite far up where the waterway is fairly narrow. The water
was calm and still and seething – yes, it really was seething –
with fish and birds. Once into the main part of Top Lake we paddled
into the deep eastern bay to Dead Finish where we had a swim, then
crossed due west and paddled back north past Sou'west Arm and back to
Gypsy Point. The next day we launched from Karbeethong Jetty and
paddled south and around the islands near the mouth of the inlet
where, in rough water, I almost got run over by a yobbo in a speed
boat as we were both dodging the swell in the narrow channel. We
also paddled up into Cemetery Bight, went for a walk, a swim and
wished Victoria Parks wasn't so draconian about camping as it would
be really nice to spend a night or two kayak camping around the
inlet.
Let's leave Mallacoota Inlet now and
get back to Sundown National Park. Traprock, apparently not the
correct name for this type of rock, is some kind of hard sedimentary
rock that makes up a large part of Sundown National Park in
Queensland's southeast corner. I read the real name of the rock on
an interpretive sign at the start of the short trail that leads up
the Severn River to the Permanent Waterhole (very innovative) name,
but, the name was mixed in with lots of geologic jargon and never
settled into my brain. Of more interest, or at least of more
interest to me, was the semi-buried disclaimer that warned
bushwalkers against drinking from Little Sundown Creek below the old
arsenic mines, areas so polluted that they are off limits to the
public. Regrettably, Little Sundown Creek drains into the Severn
River and we had made dinner and guzzled litres of tea made from
water out of the Severn River. Unfortunately, the interpretive sign
didn't list the symptoms of arsenic poisoning but if they include
sore feet and overall generalized fatigue, I think both Doug and I
have been poisoned.
Doug in lower Ooline Gorge
Our trip started innocuously enough.
At 8.30 am we were hiking up the well maintained but regrettably
short (one kilometre) trail that leads to Permanent Waterhole and the
start of Ooline Creek (named after a rare species of tree found up
Ooline Creek). A sign, the last you will see for two days and 30
plus kilometres marks the start of Ooline Creek, but I suspect even
Doug and I could have located it.
Ooline Creek runs roughly north for
about 9 km and ends near the park boundary. Travel up the
creek/gorge is actually really pleasant. There are big stretches of
traprock that make for easy walking. In places, short cliffs rise on
either side of the gorge, small pools arise here and there. Some
sections have little (now dry) waterfalls, but it is easy to scramble
either straight up the falls on solid rock or to traverse past on
either side. Travel, while not overly arduous is relatively slow, as
there is no trail and the gorge/creek twists from side to side.
After a couple of hours (or maybe more
I can't remember) the gorge becomes a creek bed and the creek bed
becomes a bit bushy. Up near the northwestern boundary of the park,
a distinct side creek enters. We decided to jump out of Ooline Creek
and take this smaller tributary creek northeast to the park boundary,
thus guaranteeing we had at least one successful short-cut on the
trip. Travel up this tributary creek is initially easy on traprock,
but, in not very long it gets quite bushy and it is easier to exit
the drainage and simply follow a compass bearing. We had sporadic
game trails, and, apart from the last bit where the bush got thick
and scraggly, the bushwacking was very easy.
Waterholes in the traprock
After about 4 hours travel, we emerged
onto the bull-dozed boundary of the park right by a dog fence. We
must have been a bit further north than we thought as we came very
quickly to the spot where the park boundary turns to the northeast
from north and we should have (eventually did) followed the
management track along the park boundary.
I saw this track which had a marsupial
fence (I couldn't tell the difference between fences but the Park
Ranger told us one was a dog fence and one a marsupial fence) running
beside it, but, did not realize it was where we should turn as our
map showed no fence at this location. Instead I kept going north
along the fence line. After a half kilometre or so, which involved
an annoying descent into a drainage and out the other side, the fence
line turned northwest. I stopped, pulled out map and compass, but
really couldn't work out where I could possibly be on the park
boundary where the fence was running northwest. I did what I usually
do in these circumstances – rightly or wrongly – which is walk a
bit further and see what happens. Well, a bit further on, the track
beside the dog fence ended and I could no longer ignore the pervasive
feeling that I was walking in the wrong direction.
Doug caught up with me and we took a
GPS reading with his mobile telephone which cleared up all the
mystery about the direction the dog fence was going as we had left
the park and were heading pretty much due north into ranching
country. A rather tedious walk, back up and down two gullies we had
crossed before led us to a minor track that was running northeast.
We checked the GPS again which showed we were almost in the right
place for the park boundary. The 100 metre difference between where
the trail was marked and what our GPS read we put down to sloppy
map-making and strode off down this minor trail, which soon ended.
At this point we remembered the much larger dozed in track by the
marsupial fence. We had both discounted this track not only because
we seemed to arrive at it too soon, but also because it was heading
east, not northeast. By now I was clutching the map in my hand
unwilling to put it away as I thought I would need it again
momentarily. Once back at the track with the marsupial fence, I
noticed that there is a small 50 metre section where the track runs
east before turning to the northeast. Another mystery solved.
We were now beginning to feel a bit
pressured for time as dusk falls around 5.30 pm and we thought we
might have to descend all of Blue Gorge before finding a campsite
and, a rough calculation put us at the top of the canyon, still four
kilometres distant, at about 3.00 pm. Doug needed some lunch,
however, so we had a really quick stop and then marched on.
Traprock scrambling terrain
South of Black Jack Creek, a major
creek draining west, the map shows two tracks, one a direct line
northeast along the park boundary, the other jogs out to the east and
loops back and is at least a kilometre longer. When we got to this
section, which is easily identifiable as there is no trail to the
northeast - the marsupial fence simply disappears into bush - and the
big management track veers off downhill to the east. On the map, a
straight line northeast along the marsupial fence is about 200
metres, so despite the comparative (or because of) lateness of the
day, we we decided on a short-cut, along the marsupial fence for 200
metres. After all, it's only 200 metres, only it's not. We thrashed
down to a creek bed, crossed this and, with increasing difficulty in
the tangled bush, thrashed up the other side to find the terrain
dropping again to a deeper rockier creek. Increasingly nasty
thrashing got us into this creek, but to continue on looked
desperate.
Our short-cut was no longer looking
like a quick option. We rapidly decided to bail on the short-cut and
hike down the creek as, within 200 metres, according to the map,
(only it's not) we should meet the management track. After a lot of
thrashing down this creek we finally took another GPS reading
although it seemed impossible that we could have missed the
management track as it should have crossed our path at right angles.
The GPS showed that we were now 200 metres past where the management
track should be. We decided we would carry on for 10 more minutes
heading east as logic – and map reading – dictated that we should
at some point intersect the management track. Five more minutes was
sufficient and, with no more thoughts of short-cuts in mind, we
continued along the track. The full detour is far more than
indicated on the map, but is also far quicker than attempting any
short-cuts.
At 4.00 pm, two hours later than we
should have been, the management track descends to cross Blue Gorge
Creek which is merely a small drainage at this elevation. A game
track starts off heading in the right direction and we followed this
for 10 minutes until it ran out and then simply got into the creek
and continued on. The creek gradually becomes rockier and rockier
and eventually turns into a deep, steep sided gorge. Overall, in
about 1 kilometre, Blue Gorge descends almost 400 metres.
There are lots of little drops in the
gorge which are easily scrambled, but there are also three high drops
which you have to scramble down and around. You can tell that you
are approaching these as the ground appears to fall away ahead. We
were in a bit of a race against the encroaching darkness so didn't
have much time – any time – for taking photos. There are three
big drops you have to scramble around as well as a whole series of
smaller ones. The first we passed to skiers right on loose ledges
above a huge drop, the second we passed by scrambling up grassy
ledges and down steep ground into a side canyon. A narrow grassy
traverse along the edge of a final drop got us back into the main
canyon. The third we also passed on the skiers left by an easy if
steep traverse again into a side canyon and then back to the main
canyon.
Reflections and cliffs along the Severn River
A series of small drops that are easily
scrambled follows, and, it's a good thing this section was easy as
the sun had long since set and we were hiking by headlamp. A final
rather nasty downclimb down steep blocks covered with slippery grass
was only possible by lowering our packs on a short piece of cord I
had brought with us. There may be an easier way around this final
drop, but we couldn't see it in the dark. Thereafter the canyon just
seems to go on and on, with little drops, pools of water, traprock
ledges and loose stony ground. I kept thinking I could see the dark
line of the Severn River ahead of us, but, in fact, it wasn't visible
until we were virtually in the river. The first clue that we had
finally made it through the canyon was the sound of water running
over stones.
We couldn't find any sort of campsite
nearby. In fact, we hadn't seen a single campsite in the previous 10
hours of travel, so while I made dinner from the arsenic tainted
river, Doug levelled a site on the gravel flats. After swilling a
litre of arsenic water we both crawled into bed and shortly fell to
sleep.
The sun rose directly over the Severn
River and we had glorious (and warming) morning sun early. Breakfast
involved more imbibing of arsenic water and, leaving at the same time
we had the day before, we began the days stagger down the stony river
bed.
Walking down the Severn River
This part of the trip is really a bit
tedious and tiring, although I was trying to think positive all the
way about how good it is to walk sometimes on rough ground and how
not everything should be easy, and similar deluded thoughts. But,
after about four hours of walking on constantly rolling hard river
boulders, crossing and recrossing the river a dozen times with my
feet beginning to throb, even I had to admit that seven hours of this
type of walking was not really pleasant.
Eventually, we got to the north end of
Permanent Waterhole. Here we found a bit of a game trail that
rounded the one kilometre long pool on the northern bank. About 200
metres before you reach the trail there is a small rock bluff beside
the river. Doug took his shoes and pants off and tried to wade
around to save climbing up and over, but, the pool was too deep to
wade without getting our packs wet so he came back and we scrambled
up above the bluff, clambered over another marsupial fence, and
finally staggered down to meet the trail.
Reading back over this trip report, it
all sounds kind of desperate, but, actually this was a great hike and
I would be happy to do more walks in the park. Despite being
relatively small in size, the park feels delightfully remote, the
traprock gorges are beautiful and walking along the Severn River,
despite being hard on the feet, is gorgeous.
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