Date:
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28 - 30/05/2017
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Location:
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Mornington [Gibb River]
(Western
Australia)
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Distance Travelled:
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340.8km
(yup, I know that’s very exact, but our bodies were beaten into submission by every inch of
those corrugations!)
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|
Temperature:
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Min:
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32.0
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Max:
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17.0
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number of 4x4 tracks we were thwarted by:
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1…
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Turning off the Derby highway onto the Gibb River road, I
was pleasantly surprised to find that the first 70km or so was sealed bitumen. Sure,
the Northern Territory government had only laid out enough cash to seal one
lane for most of it – but being a long flat stretch of road, there was plenty
of time to pull over if another car came barrelling along in the other
direction. So, without any hesitation, we tootled off quite merrily down the
road.
Heading of the highway on to the Gibb River road
Ah, but merriment does not last forever, and soon, the
bitumen ran out…
In the weeks leading up to us tackling the famed Gibb
River road (or “The Gibb”, as it’s affectionately known to those who pass by
this way), I’d spent a bit of time reading a variety of websites with tips and
tricks for wandering about in this stretch of the road. One trusted travel blogger,
whom I’ve checked in with a few times, wrote this of the Gibb River road:
“The Gibb River
Road is a 660 km track right through the wild heart of the Kimberley and
is one of the Kimberley's main attractions. "The Gibb" takes you from
Derby on the west coast to Kununurra (or Wyndham) on Western Australia's
eastern border through a spectacular landscape of intensely coloured ranges,
dramatic gorges and lush rock pools and waterfalls, everything the Kimberley is
famous for.
The trip is still
touted as one of the last serious adventures in Australia, a drive through a
very remote area where all sorts of dangers loom, an undertaking that requires
guts and four wheel driving experience...” (http://www.kimberleyaustralia.com/gibb-river-road.html)
“Oh well,” I thought as we pulled over to the side of the
road and let out tyres down. “I guess we’re really doing this then?!?”.
With our tyres deflated to 23 PSI (coming up with that
number was mostly guess work…. But it seemed to be in the range that other motorists
suggested for this stretch of sharp rocky highway), I jumped back behind the
wheel and gave the car a bit of a prod forward. Onwards dear car, onwards.
Being early in the season we were fortunate that the
roads had seen the graders pass by within the last month. As such, they were
generally in pretty good nick. Corrugations were appearing along the way (in
some places pretty heavily), but overall it was not a bad run by Gibb River
standards. So far so good!
Of course, there was to be a payoff for this good
fortune. The flip side of being on the Gibb so early in the season, was that not
all the places we wanted to visit were open yet.
Being early in the season, many of the roads were still closed...
We had heard from a variety of sources (information
kiosks, fellow travellers and websites [like this
one and this one)
that some of these destinations might potentially be open by the end of the
week. So, with our fingers tightly crossed in hopes that they were, we pressed
on to our first destination “Mornington”.
Having taken a circuitous route to get to this end of the
Gibb River Road, it was our plan to drive about half way up the road – see a
bunch of cool stuff – then turn around and head back to Derby (where our camper
trailer was waiting patiently for us). We decided to cover the vast majority of
the distance up the Gibb on the first day, then spend the rest of the week
meandering back down slowly. We decided that Mornington would a good spot to
aim for, as it would only be a hop, step and a jump to our furthest destination
up the Gibb River, Mt Barnett, a few days later.
The Gibb River road itself was spectacular. By this point
in the blog, I really am starting to run out of ways for creatively saying
“very, very nice”. But, in truth, the whole of the Gibb was truly a sight to
behold. As I understand it, the Gibb was once just a means of joining together a
bunch of incredibly vast and spread out cattle stations. But over time, it has
become one of those iconic stretches of road that motorists flock to. Most countries
have places like this. Be it Route 66
in the states, Stelivo Pass in Italy,
or the Guoliang Tunnel Road in China.
You know, those places that people who are fond of a good drive just can’t
resist visiting. And, the Gibb is certainly one of those places (honourable
mentions much also go the Great Ocean Road in Victoria, as well as the stunning
west coast of New Zealand’s South Island… Oh, and the North Island isn’t too shabby
either!).
On the Gibb, not only was the view through the car’s
window magnificent, but also the stops along the way were brilliant too.
Immense expanses of blue sky stretched out before us, with snowy white clouds forming
in curious patterns in the firmament above. Rushing to meet the sky at the
horizon, the ground changed from rolling hills, to craggy mountains and
escarpments, to sandy stretches dotted with a few hardy low-lying plants.
Amongst these biomes were forests of ancient trees, which huddled in clusters
around fairly frequent water sources.
Clouds, goannas and Boab tress - a very cool combination!
Mornington, like several of the places that we stayed
along the Gibb, was no longer a working station. Originally run as a beef
cattle station, “Old Mornington Station” (parenthetically, named after the
Mornington region of Victoria) was purchased in 2001 by the not for profit
organisation Australian Wildlife
Conservancy. This organisation now runs the station an environmental
refuge, with the aim of preserving the land and a host of threatened wildlife.
Covering an area of 3,123 square kilometres (I’m not quite sure what that is in
miles… but either way, it’s pretty darn big!), the station has been rebranded
as Mornington Wilderness Camp and
provides spacious camp sites for up to 25 tents/small trailers at a time.
Before venturing down the highway, all visitors were
required to stop just after the turn off from the main road, where they have to
use a radio to call ahead and there is space available. Given the length of the
driveway, as well as a few hairy sections to navigate along the way, it
wouldn’t be too much fun to arrive at the end of the track and find that there
was ‘no room at the inn”, so to speak.
Hairy sections on
the Mornington driveway.
So, Nat and Ben jumped out of the car and made their way
into a small shack containing a CB radio and a set of instructions pinned to
the wall. The dynamic duo followed these notes made contact with Mornington
base camp. A short time later, we were given the go ahead to start down the
track. And so we did, happy to be within reach of our goal for the day – and very
nearly able to set up the tent and have some dinner.
Mornington station - Always radio ahead!
The driveway into the station was a little arduous – taking
a little over three hours to reach the end - but, indeed, it was all part of
the fun and adventure. Heading down the long windy track, the boy and Nat took
turns hopping out of the car to open the many gates along the way.
Oh, so many gates!
As it turns out, these gates weren’t so much to keep
cattle in… but rather to keep cattle out.
Part of the conversation effort undertaken at Mornington was to restore the
damage caused by hooves of cattle to the delicate plants of this area. There
were, however, a few beefy stragglers wandering the landscape (much to the
delight of the boys), but in time, these too would be shooed away.
Mooo!
As our first destination on the Gibb River Road, we
weren’t disappointed! Hot solar showers (supplemented by gas boilers on those
occasional cloudy days) and a bar/restaurant were both available on site.
Having pitched our tent and eaten dinner, we sat back to
enjoy the stars. All along this journey, I’ve tried taking countless photos of
the resplendent and breathtaking beautiful of the outback stars. But, time after time, the resulting snaps turn out only
a handful of milky dots against an inky background. I would dearly love to show
you what we have been privileged enough to see in the night sky throughout this
trip – but, alas, it is beyond me to do so… (Still, feel free to hit up our old
friend Google for an image search using the key words ‘stars’ and ‘outback
Australia’… you’ll get a fair idea of what I mean!).
After a half-decent night’s sleep on air mattresses that actually stayed inflated until dawn, the
following day we decided to visit a couple of the sights Mornington had to
offer. We packed food and water into our bags, hopped back into the car, and
headed off down the trail – deep into the heart of the conservation lands.
Out first stop was at some of the biggest and reddest
termite mounds I’ve ever seen! I know I’ve already pontificated on the virtues
of termites in the outback – but they really are quite special. The mounds that
were visible along the track were mammoth, and their miniscule inhabitants had certainly
done a good job of keeping the landscape nice and neat.
Termites in the outback: what's not to love?!
Moving on from these awesome red mounds, we made our way
further down the track to Cadjeput Waterhole. This nice little spot on the
banks of the Fitzroy River was a great place for a swim and to have a picnic.
The track to Cadjeput waterhole was sandy, rocky and
potholed – ah yes, the holy trinity of off road action. As such, I stayed glued
to the steering wheel and windscreen the whole way. With no reception on our
phones, I knew that if we got stuck, bogged or blew more than one tyre, it
would be a long walk back to camp. However, with a bit of revving, fancy brake work,
and some quick steering-wheel action, we made it to the end of the track in one
piece.
In the carpark (such that it was) at the end of the
trail, we found a sandy spot to park up and drag our supplies and swimming gear
out from the boot of the car. Picking our way down a steep hill, we arrived on
the sandy banks of the Fitzroy River. This body of water was quite wide and
just deep enough to come halfway up my chest. Although it had a slight icy
chill, it was also very refreshing in the hot morning air. We dumped our stuff
under a tree and settled in for a few hours of fun and frolics in the shade of
an old tree. All up, we spent far longer in this patch of the river than we had
intended, but as everyone was having a great time – it just didn’t seem fair to
drag the boys back into the car again.
Cadjeput: A lovely place to unwind after an exceptionally bumpy drive!
We did eventually drag ourselves out of Cadjeput waterhole
in the early afternoon. We subsequently turned our wheels in the opposite
direction from our campsite and headed onwards down the track towards Sir John
Gorge. Unfortunately, we’d left it a little too late to make it the whole way –
particularly as the going was slow and the road got a lot hairier. Ultimately,
I made the decision to call off the pursuit of our goal, even though we had
already covered most the track and had battled across rough craggy roads and
deep muddy rivers.
What really put the kybosh on the journey was a final
stretch of road. Turning the corner we saw a steep incline that was replete
with large boulders and properly deep holes. Unfortunately, I forgot to take a
photo of this ‘road too far’, as I
was preoccupied by looking back and forth between the road and my ‘oh so popable’ factory fitted tyres. In
the end, I decided that it just wasn’t worth the risk – especially with the sun
about to set in an hour or so, as well as the thought of the aforementioned
long hike back to camp if we buggered it up. As such, we turned on our heals
(much to the boys’ and Nat’s dismay) and made our way back towards Mornington
Wilderness Camp, where we had dinner at our campsite and later a drink at the
bar. After a quick night cap (and a cheeky fizzy drink for the boys for being
good spots about turning back so close to the end of the track) we returned to
our tent to play a few hands of cards in the moonlight before bed. Exhausted
from our time at the Fitzroy river, we all slept soundly throughout the night.
Cards after dark!
The next day, we headed back down the track and turned our
wheels in the direction of Dimond Gorge (yup, that’ not a spelling mistake,
there is now ‘a’ in Dimond Gorge). Fortunately, the road was a little less
taxing than our trip to Sir John Gorge and we made it without any major mishaps.
Road into Dimond gorge
Reaching the end of the track, we were treated to a high
cliff top walk overlooking a wide expanse of river. Getting to best swimming
spots was going to be a little tricky, as they were really only accessible by
kayak (renting the paddles for which would have cost us well over a hundred
dollars…). So we contented ourselves with exploring the cliffs, rocks and
pebbly beaches for a while, before finding a place to plonk ourselves and take
a dip.
Dimond gorge: Exploring around the cliffs
The boys had a great time. We had landed ourselves near
the mouth of a smaller tributary that fed into the Fitzroy river. The banks
were sandy and it was easy to swim directly off from a beachy area. However,
the sandy bottom of the tributary also had other surprises for the boys. As the
water table was so high as a result of the recent rains in this area, the sand
was water logged and had created patches that were very fluid. Running towards
the river mouth, the boys took a step onto what they thought would be solid
ground, but which turned out to be something akin to quicksand.
Sploosh! Ben sunk up to his thighs and Daniel to his hips
in the stud. But (thankfully) hitting a solid bottom, they were able to quickly
make a hasty exit back out the way they came. After the initial surprise, they
spent hours investigating this phenomena. First, they tried walking slowly
towards the sinky sand, to see where it began to get boggy (result: pretty quickly,
as if there was a sharp step down). Then, they ran swiftly along the edges, to
see if they could run on top of the sand (result: nope… the sand was like
liquid). Could they float in the water over it (result: yup, you don’t get
sucked down like a magnet). By the end of the afternoon, they had churned up
the sand so much with their playful investigations that the particles of sand
must have given up trying to stay fluid and had coalesced together into a solid
mass once more. After a while, they were able to run over it without any sinking at all… Curiouser and
curiouser!
For the sake of posterity, it is also probably worth
noting that (with no one else around on this stretch of the river) the boys had
stripped off their swimming kit and had conducted their investigation
completely butt naked! (don’t worry, I’ve pixilated the photos to avoid shock
to anyone of a nervous disposition.
Dimond gorge: river mouth
And so, out final day at Mornington soon came to a close.
Returning to the campsite we cooked some diner and then wandered up to the restaurant/bar
area to attend a presentation by a biologist who gave a talk on the reasons
that this wilderness camp was set up. She also spoke about the flora and fauna
of the area, as well as some of the conservation projects being conducting at
present. It was an interesting talk; but in the end, the boys just wanted to
have a game of cards and head to bed. It probably not a bad idea, as we have a
few long days coming up!
So, for now, we’ll bid farewell to Mornington – and will pick
up again in the next post, as we’re heading to Mt Barnet.
Bye ‘d bye
Gregg
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