In which we follow the adventures of a fat
grandmother on the Snake Lagoon Hike.
Wind has abated overnight but the sea is bigger and
louder. Hanson Bay yesterday was fairly calm and still, today it is awash with
breakers. At the beach further east the breakers are rolling through with a
thundering landfall, the spray flying behind to a leaden sky and grey horizon
that blends with the heavens. It is easy to imagine white horses harnessed and
charging towards the sand. It would not be a hardship to sit in this chair and
simply watch the surf for hours. Well, in fact that's essentially what I'm doing along with the journalling.
We stick to our usual pattern of mid
morning departures. Today we are heading back into the National Park. I have a
rough tentative itinerary in my head, but I will seek the advice of the staff
at the visitor centre.
The day is calm with passing showers. We
wander into the visitor centre and while I'm loitering around waiting my turn
for the lady on the desk I hear her enthusiastically recommend the Snake Lagoon
Walk to another couple. I'm sure I heard her say that it is rated as one of the
best walks in South Australia. It sounds
great. When our own turn comes I say
that we were thinking of heading out to West Bay. She comments that West Bay is
a beautiful remote beach and the road should be pretty good at the moment.
Talking about roads, how did we find the road out to Cape Borda yesterday? The platypus
walk has less water in the ponds at this time of year, so it can mean it is
easier to spot the platypus. They get more sightings at this time of year, but
I get the impression the chances are still pretty iffy. Well, we are talking
about platypus, they are shy and nocturnal!
A plan for the day has firmed. We’ll head
off quick stix and do the Snake Lagoon walk – estimated 2 hrs or so and then
drive out for a quick look at West Bay, come back for lunch at the visitor
centre café, go and then go and do a cave tour. Maybe come back for platypus
viewing later on depending on how the time goes.
So, first things first. We drive the 8 kms,
mostly on the dirt, to the car park for the Snake Lagoon walk. As we pull up the
rain starts. Not to be deterred we don our rain gear and head off.
The first part of the walk is along a narrow
track through head high vegetation glistening in the rain. Most of the track is
firm sand a small section at this stage is natural rock where more care needs
to be taken due to the uneven surface.
We take our time, stopping to admire
some interesting flora, a pale green bush with what look like they might be
flower buds in profusion; the glowing red stems of young branches on a low
growing eucalypt; a comprehensively nibbled leaf; a small dainty flower on a
correa.
I’m quite happy to proceed at modest pace and just enjoy the moment
today. Periodically we come to a hint of views, but overall this section of the
walk is consistent in its offerings.
In about half an hour we reach the river
crossing and views across to Snake Lagoon. At this dry end of the year, there
is no water flowing through. Just the signs warning hikers not to cross if the
bridge is under water.
We wander across the boardwalk and I’m
having doubts about the value of continuing to be honest. This place would be something to see when it’s flowing. Now, in the dry, the area is a mass of rocks and boulders, the hillsides covered in patchy scrub. Hm. It’s certainly wild looking. It’s quite exposed. I can’t say this is my favourite sort of country visually.
In an unexpected role
reversal, Hubby is keen to continue and urges me on. Hmm. The path when we've crossed the river is rough. More than rough. It’s aweful Every step has to be
chosen carefully. We are, in reality scrambling across the natural rocky
hillside. Up and down, awkward steps, a thousand opportunities for a sprained
ankle or a slip. This walk is moderate. Yes, by definition. The walk down to
Harvey’s return is hard due to the incline. In terms of effort required, IMHO
this walk at Snake Lagoon is harder than the one to Harvey’s return because the
track is significantly rougher and it goes longer. With all this up and down, I can feel my leg
muscles misbehaving and have a stretch for a bit.
Ah. That’s better. Being, as it is, just the natural terrain
with a narrow track simply a lack of plants for a foot or so, the path is often
difficult to distinguish. In some places it seems that hikers have just taken
their best guess and there is a wide area where the vegetation has been out
competed for real estate. Some time is consumed pausing momentarily to wonder,
hmm, is the path that bare rock or that other bare rock.
Now and again when it is particularly unclear
a sign with an arrow points the general direction we are supposed to go. Gees this beach better be good. Finally, after about 48 mins where my
tolerance of the difficult terrain is steadily eroded we come to what I
instantly name the Cairn of Hope.
I'm sure I remember the lady at the visitor centre saying that the walk is “a bit
rocky”. Uh huh. Remember the staff there are Aussies and we’re prone to
understatement. Something I have not taken sufficiently into account!! She also said that many
people stay at the beach a while. Uh huh.
Yeah. It’s a pretty beach they
say. I'm actually wondering if the delay in coming back is because having
worked this damn hard to get there, they figure they’d better stay long enough
to justify it. Or perhaps they’re just hoping a passing ship might send a
dinghy ashore to rescue them. This cairn appears to be evidence of the latter.
We suddenly come to views of a pretty
beach. Oh good. Isn't that nice. Oh *&%$. Look how much more of this bloody hike we have to go. Hmm. We've seen the damn
beach can we just go back. No. Hubby is insistent. I stretch again and press
on. Hang in there knees. I stop to bird watch. There’s quite a bid of bird call in
the scrub around here. I employ my binoculars.
Oh, look at that, a white browed scrub wren; a silvereye and some fairy wrens away over there keeping well out of the way. I guess for those who are
not bird watchers, I should explain that these area all very common birds where I am from. Indeed I
get silvereyes and fairy wrens in my garden on a daily basis, so while all
god’s creatures are great to see, and lighten one’s spirit, I don’t need to
work too hard for these ones usually. Oh, and I nearly forgot to mention there
was also a quite bizarrely shy white faced heron in the area. It would fly off
into the distance any time we got within a couple of hundred yards. I get white
faced heron in my garden too believe it or not. I conclude this is a
consequence of having a very healthy frog population and no dogs.
Hubby has been in control of the camera.
He’s photographing me fairly often. Why aren't you smiling? I imagine a long
series of photos of me on the path look a lot like I'm not enjoying
myself. Our banter brings regular chuckles and it seems hubby has been
fairly expert in capturing the merriment along the way.
Ok. Here we are on the beach at last. And
it is a pretty beach. Prone to freak waves apparently. We loiter for a while. It has taken us almost
exactly one hour to reach the beach, which is what was indicated for this hike,
however I'm thinking the way back is more uphill, on the way here downhill
dominated. I'm thinking that the way back will probably take us longer. Groan.
I can see my day slipping through my fingers. I'm not happy. We spend 10
minutes on the beach. Right. I'm over this bloody walk. It said it takes 2 hrs
walking in the book. That’s all the time it’s getting. Let’s go. Now. I set
myself a deadline. I am feeling a little
encouraged by the knowledge that my knees prefer up hill to down hill.
The
scenery is more attractive heading back. Its funny how the direction of travel
can sometimes make such a difference. We’re making pretty reasonable
time, and as we know the return journey from anywhere always seems quicker than
the outward stretch. Thank God. We reach
the section where I had to clamber down on my bottom on the way out. This time, with my short stubby legs (thanks Dad) I am obliged to climb up on all fours.
Hubby has hung back. This is too good to miss. No I'm not posting a photograph of myself on all fours with my bum to the camera!
I feel I have gone a really long way in
quick time. Sigh. We’re only back at the Cairn of Hope. You know, I think this walk is the South
Australian version of an Aussie offering a foreign visitor some vegemite. You
should see this walk… it’s a real beauty (chuckle chuckle).
We emerge from concealment and surprise a
group of kangaroos who have come down for a drink. They look like they can
hardly believe this. Humans. Here. They
stare at us for a while and bound away. I kick myself for not anticipating the
opportunity to capture a kangaroo in full flight. Reflexes and camera recovery
too slow. That’s the one downside on this new camera. It does seem to take a
while to process an image you've taken before you can take another, unless you are on a setting that expects it.
25 minutes after departing the beach we are
back at the river crossing and my lips are meeting weathered timber. Holy Moses let me cross the river. It’s all easy from here.
Along the way Hubby has been acquiring more
and more of the gear we brought with us. It starts with the camera, then my
raincoat. Later a cheerful comment earns him my jacket as well, and finally
even my bins. If he keeps it up he'll have my jeans to boot. Haha. On the easy path he begins to extend those long legs of his and
he’s out of sight. I'm walking briskly,
checking my watch. Good, we’re on track to be back at the car in 2 hrs. Then a
complication. A strange bird call. What was that? Not something I've ever heard before. Could
it be a Glossy Black Cockatoo? Hubby has
my bins. Oh no. Surely not. Never mind, it appears to have been a group of Currawongs speaking in a different language than they use at home. Funny about
how the same species can speak a different dialect of birdsong in different
areas. They were worried about that when
the captive bred Regent Honeyeaters were being released, but the birds seem to
have got along OK.
As I near the carpark the cart horse phenomenon
starts to take effect. I'm nearly there. Within sight of
the car I find Hubby is coming back up the path armed with some water and the
scant remains of our survival ration chips we had in the car. YES. We are back. At last. This walk has consumed
almost exactly two hours in total including our 10 minutes on the beach, so we've shaved some time on the return. 2 hours 2 minutes to be precise, but I’ll
accept the extra couple of minutes because I felt it wise to stop and stretch
my legs a couple of times. At least we are running to time.
As we come out of the bush we meet a group
that we've passed before, they sound like they are from North America. I
volunteer that she should not believe that this walk is “moderate”. The lady smiles good naturedly and jokes “so
it’s easier then?” I laugh.. Yeah.
In all honesty, despite the bitching and moaning and joking along the way, I'm glad to have done the walk. All experiences are a mix of light and shadow. It's good to push yourself occasionally.
So what now. At least we are running to
time. We set off along the road to west bay, which initially involves some very
steep inclines. The road is pretty good, and we pass the grader which is heading
back. That explains the good condition of the road. It’s still quite loose
though. As we travel we joke about the days adventures so far and it suddenly
occurs to me that West Bay was recommended by the same lady who was so
enthusiastic about the Snake Lagoon hike. Hmm. LOL
It’s only 12 kms out to West Bay.
We park
and hop out of the car by the memorial anchor. Wow. The smell
of the ocean and fresh seaweed fills the air. Breathe deeply. I suggest we take the walk to the lookout and
leave it at that, dismissing Hubby’s suggestion of heading down to the beach..
it looks a long way and it will be sand dunes. I'm far from keen to be walking over sand dunes at the moment.
The walk to the lookout is very beautiful.
Extraordinarily beautiful. Gasp. Look at that bay and that beach. Oh my god. Words fail. West Bay is unutterably
beautiful. This whole area is unutterably lovely. This is quite
possibly the most beautiful beach we have ever seen. Absolutely stunning and
the weather is with us all the way. Sunlight on the breaking waves, threatening
clouds over the Southern Ocean, waves crashing against the ramparts in the
distance. Noone else in sight. Simply magnificent. What am I going to say about
this? I wonder. Temptation: “West Bay is
aweful. Don’t go there.” Leave this place pristine as it is today.
I pause armed with the camera to capture
nature’s garden along the track back from the lookout. A Japanese garden designer couldn't do a
better job than this. Wonderful. Lets go to the beach I think, but Hubby has hopped out of shot and is
ahead of me. He is already down the path. Take a picture he says, calling up to me. There’s a couple of picnic tables at the
upper section of the beach walk. Lovely spot for a picnic!
I bound down the steps and am taken aback to
find the dune walk has a non slip path laid down. This is easy, even though
it’s got quite a slope to it. I stop to
capture the scene and Hubby wandering across the broad sands. We've discovered the
panorama feature on the camera and employ it enthusiastically. Hubby wanders up
to see how far the deposits of fresh red seaweed go. The tide must come in and
cover all this sand.
Gee this must have
been something to see yesterday, or when it’s full tide. I could handle just
having a towel or blanket and sitting in a sand chair soaking up the wild
serenity of this place. Fantastic. Absolutely fantastic. Eventually we decide it’s time to start
heading back. That imposing looking sand hill is a breeze with the laid track over it. Just a little tricky when first getting a foot hold coming up off the beach.
Back at the Bower Anchor Memorial, we contemplate the story of a local shipwreck. Everywhere we've gone there are tales of loss
and suffering on the high seas. It adds a melancholic aspect to our
appreciation of the natural masterpiece we've been exploring.
We no sooner on the road than the rain
comes down. Talk about timing. The weather loves us on this holiday we've been
so incredibly lucky with it.
As if West Bay were not fabulous enough,
along the way back we see our first KI echidna crossing the road. In a horrible bust of incompetence, I manage to pretty much miss a photograph. Yeah, come on, you can see it in the bushes there can't you?
Delayed again when we spot a skyscraper spear on a grass tree. Even hubby hops out to get some perspective on it. I have repeated tries to use the panorama setting in a vertical dimension. Ah that'll do. Score that one as a fail, but that spear had to be at least 4 metres tall.
Our day is getting better and better. It took us 35 minutes to drive out to West Bay
and we spend about 50 minutes there. We’re back at the visitor centre well
before 3 oclock, I think it was about 2.40ish. Plenty of time for the main meal
of the day here at the excellent café. I know what I’m having thanks: Kangaroo
Island Whiting meal – locally caught fresh whiting battered (or herbed) and pan
fried served with our gourmet salad and chips $26.95.
Hubby also has no need of deliberation and
has the Warm Chicken and King Island Haloumi Salad – Pan fried seasoned chicken
fillet with local halmoumi cheese, served on a bed of lettuce, cucumber,
tomato, capsicum, carrot, red onion, served with KI honey mustard dressing.
$21.95.
Yes, both were as delicious as they looked.
My salad was outstanding. The fish was cooked beautifully in a light crisp
batter. It’s not often you find fish and chips cooked and presented this well.
Not cheap in any sense. Well worth the price. As we sit enjoying the outdoors
at the café most other diners depart and the clean up crew arrives. The young
woman from the café comes out and we all hang about for a few minutes admiring
the birds. It is a little troup of blue
wrens: a coloured up male (breeding plumage), another male in eclipse plumage
(dark blue tail but otherwise looking like a female ie not in breeding plumage)
and a couple of others which most people assume are female but in fact you
can’t tell. You can only tell that a blue wren IS a male, unless you get the bird in
your hand and there is some tangible evidence of female gender eg an egg in the
abdomen. We are talking like this of
birds and our hostess tells us that she is the daughter of the people who
operate Raptor Domain. Another couple dining have done both the bird and
reptile show there and it sounds great. I could handle having Casper the Owl
sit on my knee! I decide to give it a go
tomorrow for the morning session at 11.30.
No way we’ll make the 3.15 tour at Kelly’s
Hill Caves but there’s another tour at 4.15 according to our guide book.
Showers have been passing as we've had our lunch. The vegetation in the car
park is glistening and there is that glorious smell of the Australian bushland
on the air. Fresh and scented of eucalypt. Breath deep. The birds are very active. There’s nothing
shabby about the birding at the Visitor’s Centre.
A red wattle bird
A grey fantail
And a mystery bird foraging under the bark
but too quick for me to get a good enough look to be sure what it is. It looks like a honeyeater. I'm busily trying to get a good binocular free look at the birds when – oh look at
that, there is a koala. He opens his eyes and looks down at me as I take his
portrait.
Time is moving on and we don’t want to miss
the cave tours, so I drag myself way. Really. I would have been very happy to
stay here just moseying around looking at the birds for ages. But, places to go, tours to take, so I jump in
the car and we head off. Along the way
another echidna! Hubby needs no prompting to pull over.
The echidna, now safety
off the road, senses my approach and does what all sensible echidnas do when
approached by something scary. It nestles down and presents as a bit ball of
spines. AWESOME. Two echidna’s. They make no guarantees you’ll see any.
It’s about 20 mins to Kelly’s Hill Caves.
We’re not alone in our intention to take this tour. There is a steady stream of
cars pulling in and people heading for the ticket office. The office is closed and there is a clock face
and sign indicating that the next tour is at 4.30 and ticket office will open
10 minutes before the tour. Groan. OK. The area around has a couple of large
picnic shelters and lots of fallen timber but to be honest it not terribly nice
as a venue for hanging around. Hubby and I make our way across and sit under
the shelter out of the sun. Puzzle over the enormous size of the tables. And
wait. And wait. I’m a bit sick of this spot so I amuse myself stalking the blue
wrens. KI has a LOT of blue wrens. 4.30 comes and goes. No sign of any tour
people turning up. We decide to go. There’s three coloured up male blue wrens
flitting about in the car park and they delay me for a while. Leading me a
merry dance as they avoid having their portrait taken. Ah. Give up. What now.
Now we’ve come this far, how about we head up to Vivonne Bay and get fuel and
check it out then maybe come back for the platypus walk?
We get our fuel successfully. Not much of a
challenge there. Then we drive out towards Point Ellen, taking opportunities as
they present to admire the views. We couldn't be bothered walking out to the
point after the walks completed and anticipated today.
Back along the road heading back to the
National Park we spot another echidna. THREE! Woo hoo!
As we arrive in the car park we have a good
look at the park walks book. Hmm. This walk is easy but given 2 hrs. It’s
nearly 6pm. Not enough time. We give it away and have no sooner got back in the
car and closed the doors than the rain comes down in a heavy downpour. We
laugh. Glad we hadn't started out on
that. Oh well.
On the way back to our Cabin a FOURTH
echidna! This one is restricted to video
and that has worked well because this little guy is made of sterner or perhaps less
prudent stuff. He’s a bit smaller and darker, perhaps he is younger, but he reckons he can just walk away from
me. Brilliant.
As we drive up to our cabin a rainbow has
appeared across Hanson Bay. It
intensifies and fades away then reappears a while later.
Back unusually early, top of my agenda is
to spend some time hanging out on the wide verandah just soaking up the views.
Our next door neighbours are friends of the operators of the cabin and the
friendly manager starts up a conversation with us and we spend a lovely half
hour enjoying the wallabies who have come out to nibble on the pigface and
whatever else they can scrounge. Feeding is discouraged but for those who
cannot resist an appeal is made in the cabin information to restrict offerings
to fruit and vegetables. Anything with yeast in it will kill them in a very
unpleasant way. Apparently the wallabies like banana skins and the possums like
the fruit itself.
The little children, a couple of them about
our grandson’s age are running here and there.
One little boy run us and announces he has found a dinosaur!! His mum heads off to investigate and I
follow, perhaps they’ve spotted a lizard. Haha he was only joking!
We realize we have not employed the
panorama setting to capture the views.
So as the light fades we do what we can to ensure we can enjoy the scene
at home. Hubby reminds me I was going to
soak the Ravine du Casoars ready for our light dinner so I head on in for a
while.
Curtains closed and some journalling being
indulged in, and almighty ruckus starts up outside. Three possums are arguing
about the greens that are outside the door of the cabin next door. Righto. We have a spare banana.
No comments:
Post a Comment