Life Lessons

Echidna Chasm

Ivy and Ned screamed around the corner and into the vast cavern of Cathedral Gorge in the heart of the Bungle Bungles. Oli caught up, and they all dominoed into a posse of older persons wearing matching white shirts and hats. One woman made it perfectly clear to Ivy, that she was not welcome in their group photo. The three kids slinked away towards the rock face without a word. Sara arrived, and bristled with indignation when she heard the story.

She was ready to pounce when another member of the tour group shuffled over. "Your children" she wheezed, "are perfectly behaved and very respectful. Here's $20. Buy them an icecream." The peacemaker merged back into her companions, ignoring Sara's attempts to return the money as thank yous echoed around the chamber from three high pitched voices.

We've done a lot of hiking since then. We walked all over the Bungles, and all over El Questro Wilderness Park. Ned is usually way out in front, charging along, ignoring the information signs, intent on arriving wherever it is we are going first. The only thing slowing him, and therefore us down now, is that we have to wait to let every other bloody hiker on the trail coming the other way through first. If it's not Ned being overtly chivalrous, it's one of the other two. Sooner or later they'll work out that that $20 was a once off. Until then, they'll be completing all hikes with a big friendly grin on their faces, and a cheery "No, you can go through first, I need a rest..."

Bungles from Picaninny Creek

Boys running in Cathedral Gorge

Camping in the Bungles was cold overnight. Sara slept wearing two thermal tops, two fleece jackets and a down sleeveless top, and a beanie, in her sub zero bag and was still cold. No campfires allowed which made for early and long nights. The hiking was beautiful though, and it was especially rewarding getting away from the crowds by walking up Picaninny Gorge. Back to the van after two nights away, and into Parry Lagoon.

Bungles

Our resident twitcher, Oli, had found out about this place, and talked about not much else since leaving Broome. We had a great couple of days thawing out and spotting new birds. I also spotted a celebrity of sorts. Daryl Somers was in town, having done a reportedly ordinary job of MCing a concert the night before. I refrained from asking if he'd seen a Purple People Eater coming out of the sky, it being a bird of sorts (with one long horn, and one big eye), and left him to his photography.

We got ourselves ready for camping again, this time to finish the Gibb off with a stay at El Questro Station. All reports from Wallis's and Linton's alike were that this place was as good as it gets. Only the lonely, brown shoed locum GP from Melbourne in Fitzroy Crossing gave any indication that all was not rosy. And did we jump on that snippet of negativity. We were all over it and ready to leave as soon as we got there. The only difficulty with that plan was that it was a fantastic place.

I'm not sure what they get for $2689 a night when they stay at the homestead, but I know now that $25 gets you a truly secluded campsite and access to some of the most beautiful gorges, vistas, and waterfalls we have seen to date. The weather was warm, hot even, and there was not a croc to be found. We made friends with a devout farrier, and remet Jo and Tony from Broome, also Disco drivers. Yes it was busy around the station, but apart from the trashed Zebedee hot springs, and the easily accessed Emma Gorge, we had it to ourselves, almost. The Disco got a solid work out, with water crossings that almost covered the wheels and low range hill climbs.

I even had a moment of superiority, when a fellow Disco driver, retreated from a river crossing, and watched us charge through. "You can do it, you're in a Disco" I said encouragingly. His wife tittered in agreement, but as he slunk back into his seat pulling the brim of his Panama hat down over his eyes, he mumbled something 

Zebedee hot springs

into the collar of his clean, lemon yellow Ralph Lauren polo shirt about needing to get back to the bitumen. Turned out his Disco was actually running on LPG so it hardly counted as a 4WD anyway. Later, as Sara and I were having a rare, quiet beer on the riverbank, Oli rolled a wet tyre inner tube down a hill and into this gentleman. Somewhat surprisingly, no $20 note was produced.





Mertens water monitor and friend

Kimberley? Done it! Well, an awful lot of it, and the best could be yet to come with the Kununurra Show on tomorrow across the road. Fats Thommo, Australia's greatest entertainer will be on the big stage. There are prizes for the strangest looking vegetable, there are the melon Olympics, and there's even a dog / owner look alike competition. Shame Barney's not with us, we'd have that one in the bag. There's also the Kununurra half marathon which Sara, Oli and I have entered as a team, so we'd better stay away from the quality food (camel burgers) and beverages that will be on offer! Should be a corker of a weekend.

H