Cervantes and the Pinnacles

 

Date:	01-03/06/2017
Location:	Cervantes (Western Australia)
Distance Travelled:	529 km
Temperature:	Min:	7.5
	Max:	18.5
people feeling duped out of a bag of chips	4

 

Having polished off our breakfast of ham and cheese toasties, cooked over the dying embers of a still cosy fire, we hopped back into out trusty car and chugged off down the road. To be honest, most of the day was a bit of a blur, we had a lot of distance to cover and we knew that daylight would be fading on us before long. Ultimately, we were heading for Kalgoorlie, a famous mining town in WA – with a pit so large that it could almost fit a small city inside. But, between Hamelin station and Kalgoorlie, there was a whopping 1277km to cover – and only a couple of days to do it in. To put it plainly, we were strapping ourselves in for a hell of a ride!

Rather than simply break up the trip into evenly spaced, bite-sized chunks, we were keen to make as much of the remaining time on the road count for as cool of an experience as possible. And so, with that in mind, we set our GPS for the next destination: Cervantes, Western Australia.

 

From all the other backwater towns in which we could have pulled up for night, why did we choose this little backwater town to stop at? Indeed, if we’d decided to forego this minor detour, we’d have saved ourselves just shy of 100km. Well, what drew us here was the geological site that lies about 20km outside of this township: The Pinnacles. These rocky formations really have to be experienced in order to fully appreciate the magnificence of this place.

 

…and so, we trundled down the road, as fast as our little trailer would allow us. Stopping here and there to stretch our legs and empty our bladders, we pushed on like four little troopers. For the most part, we followed the coast and watched as the Indian Ocean fade in an out of view. Other than that, nothing particularly remarkable happened on the journey, and we completely neglected to take any photos of it either…

 

Just after midday, we arrived at Geraldton, the second largest city in WA – situated about 4 – 5 hours north of Perth. Sadly, we weren’t destined to make it to Perth on this trip, so we had to make ourselves content with visiting its northern cousin. Unfortunately, in order to make Cervantes before dark, we didn’t have time to explore Geraldton. So, pulling out the cut lunch we’d made for the journey, we powered on. We did, however, make one much needed stop in Geraldton. Pulled our trailer into a parking lot in the retail factory district on the outskirts of the city, we picked up what has now become one of our most prized possessions. Indeed, we purchased a little something that we never dreamed we would need for most of our trip into the far north, so we had simply left it home. But now, as the winds had begun to turn chilly and the nights brought a touch of frost, so the trusty little heater we purchased in Geraldton is something I’m sure will always have a place in our trailer while travelling around Victoria in the months and years to come.

 

With newly purchased heater in hand, we pushed on for the remaining 220km to Cervantes. We followed the coast much of the way and continued to enjoy the grand vistas looking out over the Indian Ocean.

 

As the sun began to head towards the horizon, we finally began to descend into the township of Cervantes. The GPS took us directly to the caravan park, which we had booked into for the night. To be honest, we weren’t spoiled for choice for places to stop in this neck of the woods. But we had a place to park up, plug in our newly purchased heater, and cook some food.

 

…However, although we quickly set up the trailer, food would have to wait! We had about an hour remining before sunset and we were gripped by a desperate push to get to the Pinnacles before the sun faded entirely. So, back in the car again, we hurtled down the last 22km of road to the Nambung National Park, to drive and wander amongst the natural standing stones that dotted this patch of the earth.

 

What can I tell you about the Pinnacles? Well, according to the Nambung National Park website, the Pinnacles are described, somewhat laconically, as:

 

“Thousands of huge limestone pillars rise from the shifting yellow sands of the Pinnacles Desert, resembling a landscape from a science fiction movie.”

 

For those that have read our blog to this point, you will know very well that I can spend half a paragraph describing the simple act of purchasing a heater. So, ‘Thousands of limestone pillars’ to describe the Pinnacles just simply doesn’t cut it in my books!

 

 

 

Welcome to the Pinnacles - We have some ules to follow...

 

We made it to the entrance of Nambung National Park with about 45 minutes before the sun was due to sink below the horizon. Already the dying light made this place seem magical. There were, as the blurb suggested, thousands of limestone pillars jutting out of the sandy earth – but the scale of these protrusions was something to behold. As we entered the one-way track, we caught our first glimpse of these formations. Reminiscent of tombstones, or perhaps rows of crooked teeth from a giant’s lower jaw, we simply couldn’t prepare ourselves for the scale of the rocky structures awaiting us around the first bend.

 

 

First glimpse at the limestone towers of the Pinnacles

The standing stones came in all manner of shapes and sizes. From squat and flat, to tremendous columns and sharp pointy spires.

 

Jagged tooth like protrusions from the desert

 

Many were clustered together, seemingly huddled in conversation, or turning their collective backs to the desert winds. Others stood alone, solitary sentinels against the sand elements.

 

 

 

Great place for a game of hide-and-seek

 

We drove along the sandy trail, amidst a small collection of other explorers, taking in the vast quantity of limestone pillars stretching out to the horizon. The trail snaked its way through sand dunes, hills of rock, wizened old trees and patches of desert scrub. Here and there we would park up and head out on foot, to get up close and personal with the great monoliths of the desert.

 

 

 

Unfortunately, the light was fading fast, so we had to make it through the last few twists and turns in the dark. Emerging around the last bend, we pulled out of the desert and back on to the highway. Heading back to town, our bodies were covered in a fine patina of desert sand and we had a camera full of under exposed images from the lack of light. Still, the ones we did manage to capture were pretty cool.

 

On the way back into Cervantes, we spied a fish and chippery – much to our collective delight. “Awesome”, we thought, knowing that dinner would still be some time away. Who doesn’t like a late snack after a day on the road and an evening traipsing around the desert? So, we pulled in to the car park and promptly ordered a bag of chips to go.

 

But, when they were served…. Oh, the disappointment! Expecting a bag of hot, tasty potato goodness, wrapped in brown paper and covered with salt, our heart sank when the lady behind the counter unceremoniously handed over a paper cup of French fries – the sort you might get from a van at a sporting event or at an over-priced fair. As we eyed the paltry cup of chips, we could see the same knowing expression creeping over everyone’s face: “Bugger, we’re only going to get half a dozen chips each, if we’re lucky!”.

 

With an unsated feeling in our stomachs and a steely determination “never to return to this wretched excuse for a chip shop ever again in our lives”, we pulled into our caravan park and headed for the kitchen to cook something to fill our bellies.

 

With dinner done, we called it a night. We still had a long way to drive tomorrow to make it to Kalgoorlie and, with luck, be able to fit in mine tour in the afternoon…

 

Bye ‘d bye,

 

Gregg

 

Hamelin Station (3): Shells, security and sharks!

Our final day at Hamelin station was spent slowly meandering up the coast to Denham. We stopped at a number of places along the way – spending some time at each and searching the crystal-clear waters for any elusive signs of life.

The first stop for the day was Shell Beach (Wulgada). This place was both aptly named and very informative. Wandering slowly down to the beach from the car park, we stopped at each of the information stations that had been dotted along the path to learn about how this fascinating region was formed, as well as a little about the wildlife which calls this place home.

 

Shell Beach (Wulgada) - an amazing hidden gem!

 

 

But, before we went too far, we came across an information station which talked about the feral animal fence that had been erected to cut off this peninsular from the mainland. The fence stretched up high and had been dug deep into the ground. The fence was also electrified, to further deter the most persistent of cats, wild dogs, and foxes from entering the area. The weakest point in the fence was, of course, the gaping hole where the road that we had driven down passes through. Before continuing down to explore Shelly Beach, we decided to take a detour and check out this fence. As we approached the area of the fence that the road ran through, we found to our surprise that this gaping hole was not as unprotected as we had first thought. Wandering back across the cattle grid and over the road between the two halves of the fence, we were startled when a dog suddenly started barking at us – seemingly from nowhere. 

 

Having calmed our nerves, we realised there was in fact no dog, but the sound was coming from speaker at the side of the road. There was an array of sensors attached to the speaker, which triggered a recording of a dog’s bark in the hopes of scaring away would be intruding animals from crossing into the park. “How very clever”, we thought while the boys took great pleasure in setting off the sensor over and over again. And to think, unless one gets out of one’s car and takes a walk over the cattle grid, you would never know this was here. Very cool!

 

Feral animal deterrent - Shell Beach

 

Feral animal deterrents aside, we continued our journey down the path to Shelly Beach. This place got its name from the abundance of tiny cockle shells that were strewn along this stretch of coastline. These little Fragum Cockles are one of the few forms of life that can live in this area. Due to the hydrology of this area, the lagoon in front of Shelly Bay is twice as salty as normal sea water. Because of this, nothing else can comfortably live here. So, these little cockles (the size of the nail on my index finger) were free to grow with abandon. Millions upon millions of their tiny shells lined the beach. According to one informative sign, we learned that in some places they were up to nine metres deep. So, we spent a bit of time combing the beach for shells, and came up with handfuls that were all different shapes and sizes.

 

So many, many beautiful white shells...

 

 

Moving on, we pulled in at Eagle Bluff to wander another boardwalk in the hopes of seeing a dolphin, turtle or shark. Despite a few false starts (there were a several bunches of sea grass floating passed that looked suspiciously like sharks and dugongs), we did eventually spot a couple of sharks cruising along in the waters far below.

 

 Eagle bluff and an elusive Reef Shark...

 

Nope, not a shark, dugong or porpoise... just MORE kelp.

 

Farwell Eagle bluff

 

 

Having spent time gawping at the reef sharks, we continued our journey to Denham, where the boys spent a chunk of the afternoon throwing themselves around an awesome playground in the heart of this small town. Over the next hour or two sandcastles were built, swings were swung, and most of importantly the grand slide in the middle of the park was plummeted down.  

 Denham - what a playground!

 

In the end, we made our way back to the campsite, where we had a third great night in front of the roaring fire. Up early the next day, we braved the early morning chill and huddled around the dying embers of the communal campfire to make ham, egg and cheese toasted sandwiches over the still hot coals. With breakfast done, we packed up and said goodbye to Hamelin station. It was a lot of fun around the station, but the road towards Victoria was starting to call us home. So, let’s make a start.

 

 Marshmallow treats on our last night in Hamelin Station

 

Bye ‘d bye,

Gregg