Larapinta 12: Lost in a Chasm

 

 

 

 

“Look!! Someone dripped some paint on that bird.” our neighbours recalled her thoughts when they first encountered  the Great Bower bird. The conspicuous pink bludge or nape standing out like a veggie burger at a butchers. Julie and I found this bird and its collection of white shells and green broken glass in a nest close to Standley Chasm.  

Most of their life these feisty birds or Chlamydera Nuchalis are busy all year round with either building a nest (males) or raise their young on their own (females), Bower Birds are renown for being able to copy sounds like cats, power tools, squeaky doors, ringtones of phones and other bird calls. The loud screeching male we stumbled on was building its nest, continuously moving stuff around and definitely wanted us to vamoose.

Saturday 23 July 2016

The rest day was an absolute necessity by the time I got to the Chasm. After a seriously amusing chat and coffee with the man of the law at the chasm kiosk, Jules and I drove to a four-wheel drive accessible part of the Hugh River, a free campsite around twenty kms away. Here I could stick my blistered feet up in the air and was treated like a king all day - sitting on a camping chair instead of rocks - pure bliss!!!

We were all by ourselves in a vast open space - a fire in the creek bed - ripper sunset and sunrise - awesome tranquillity - no walking.

 

Sunday 24 July 2016

 

Section 3: Standley Chasm to Jay Creek

Section 3 is a 13.6km section.

This section is a challenging walk through some of the steepest and most rugged country in the ranges. The low route is available to those with an average level of fitness.

Believe me you need to be fit to walk the low route

We returned back to Standley Chasm and paid our $12 entry fee to view the steep crevasse in the red granite (northern territorians only pay $1).

Called Angkerle by the Aborigines, the Chasms European name honours Mrs Ida Standley who, in 1914, became the first school teacher in Alice Springs.



Mrs Ida Standley

In 1925 the school for children of Aboriginal descent was moved from Alice Springs to Jay Creek [Iwupataka] with Mrs Standley as matron.

It was during her time at Jay Creek that she became the first non-Aboriginal woman to visit the feature that now bears her name.

Information taken from the Standley Chasm website



A lovely short walk to the chasm

 
The approach to Standley Chasm is a lovely winding path next to a tiny creek, with beautiful gumtrees and flanked by the Chewing Range slopes. The chasm itself, a cool narrow space, with a surprising amount of flowers gracing its walls suitable for abseiling. Memories flooded back of the huge Echidna’s Chasm, a must see if you are ever near the Bungle Bungles.
 

The chasm

 

The wild staircase out of the chasm was truly a challenge with the pack full of water and new supplies. I was looking down in full concentration at the rocky steps, that I did not notice the photographer standing still up the track waiting to see whether I would crash into her or not. I managed to stop at the last second - “you ought to look up more” she told me. We chatted all the way up and she introduced herself as Julie Fletcher. She was hauling a 15 kilo bag full of her camera gear up the hill. I have since found out how proffesional a photographer she is. Check this website below. Unfortunately I had a late start that day with a lot further to go than Julie so I had to say arrevoir.

 



What I saw when I looked away from those stairs

 

I found the Melbournian walking group having a rest on top of Gastrolobium Saddle and had my morning tea with them.

The Melbournian hiking group setting off from Gastrolobium Saddle

The track funnelled through a narrow gorge with massive rocks that needed jumping and climbing. Here I overtook a middle-aged lady whom appeared to be struggling. I was glad to see she had someone looking after her when I met a young guy called Grant down the track.

 


A bit of canyoning......

A bit of climbing....

 

A bit of abseiling without rope

When, finally, the rocky creek bed had been stumbled over and hiking became easier on an undulating dusty track, I saw my friendly, wandering attorney wave at me as he disappeared up a hill. Hunger time demanded for me to sit  down for lunch and I found the Millers campsite a good spot to rest. Ten minutes later I heard a voice from above calling out. “Marcel, are you still there?”  I replied in the affirmative. “I am a bit lost” came the voice from above again. A couple of minutes later I heard "I will wait until you have finished your lunch so you can show me where the track is”. This is when I realised the man of the law may well be in a spot of bother and walked to the place where I last saw him. It must be said, in defence of my lawyer, that the turn off is one of those this can't be the right way; therefore, I am ignoring it turn offs. Getting lost at this spot  is merely an inescapable verdict. I called him back to where I was standing with a cuppa soup in hand and heard him battle with the spinifex on his way down. He thanked me for getting him back on track and we both had a bit of a laugh about it.




Some of the rare flowers of the Larapinta trail

Some time later in the day I caught up with the notary and I judged him to be great company as we meandered along side of some amazing waterholes of Jay Creek in the late afternoon. I noticed how he tapped every Larapinta trail sign with his hiking stick, as if to acknowledge that at this moment he was relieved to be on the right trial.

We arrived at the Jay Creek hut where the first question I was asked by an older gentleman was had my sleeping bag dried up? The story of the accidental dipping of my bag in the Hugh River five days ago travelling the Larapinta grapevine faster than I could walk.

There was something wrong (acknowledged by Roz and John) with the atmosphere in the busy shelter -  lots of awkward silences. I didn’t think anything of it untill a pale looking man called Alex lit up a bong in the middle of the hut. To this day I cannot understand why you would smoke marihuana in front of eight complete strangers. What I would not be surprised about is if the police were waiting for him at Ellery Creek to pull him off the track. You noticed how a minor story like my wet backpack did the rounds on the trail?

It is true, dear reader, the world is full of a huge diversity of people. It sure makes for an exciting and interesting life.

I camped well away from the hut that night.

Grey Bits

You can admire the wonderful images taken by Julie Fletcher at http://www.juliefletcherphotography.com.au/


Do you want to become a guest blogger, write your own story and publish on my blog? I would love to hear from you. Email me at storiesfrommars@gmail.com
 

Believe it or not but Standley Chasm Resort owns the only free washing machine on the Larapinta for hikers. The shower was somewhat dribbly but I was certainly not complaining.

  

Find out more about this magical place at

http://www.standleychasm.com.au/about-standley-chasm

Larapinta 11: Decomposing Bodies.



Climb it, say G'day to the stone-man. He is waiting

This Larapinta trail is a magnificent achievement for the people that built it. Full acknowledgement has to go to all the volunteers, contractors, and parks and wildlife staff involved since its inception in 2006. I found the quality of the signage excellent; it is hard to get lost if you are not subconsciously ignoring important blue triangles through exhaustion. Maybe a couple of times I told myself that I just new better than any map or sign. Believe me, on every such occasion, I wanted to kick myself up the backside as hard as I could.

 

 

Friday 22 July 2016
 

Amazing thinly sliced rocks

 

Section 4:  Birthday Waterhole to Standley Chasm

Section 4 is a 17.7km section. You will need to camp overnight to finish the section.

The trail follows the high quartzite ridges of the Chewings Range to the summit of Brinkley Bluff, where you will be rewarded with breathtaking views in all directions.



Breathtaking

Steeply descending from the Bluff, the trail enters Stuart's Pass, an upper branch of the Hugh River. It then follows this river valley to Birthday Waterhole.
 

Information taken from the government website.

Going up Brinkley Bluff was a pleasure due to the rebuilding of the track. It was soft underfoot, went up as gently as it could and avoided major dramatic rock confrontations. Nevertheless, you still have to get up there.

I caught up with the Victorians, who weren't looking at all victorious; half way up the hill. Together we had morning tea next to a hidden waterhole among a beautiful crop of psychads. We were all buzzing from the climb and the chat was humorous and welcoming. Sometimes, things just take a little time. I guess not everyday a tall bloke, like me, all smelling of ol’ sweaty spice, chin bumfluff  and that hollowed-out look, barges into the place you planned to sleep. I can imagine a bit of trepidation. ’What if he’s got an axe?’

  

 

I challenged myself and pushed myself up the remaining, steepest part of the hill where I sat down for the infamous pasta and coffee meal. One by one, the east-coasters arrived in varying states of exhaustion; each spending a bit of time chatting to me as they sat down to recover from the climb.
 




One of the many varieties of butterflies on this track

Brinkley Bluff is another spot where I have serious regret about not staying overnight as the government website suggests. It is one of the highest points in the area and has killer, surrounding views. My lawyer (who you will meet later today) told me he spent the night up here all by himself with millions of stars. He said he laid on his back, being able to see our galaxy stretch out in front of him while watching countless shooting stars.

A sign of life. Airplanes in the red centre have very small jet-streams due to the lack of moisture in the air

 

Again, the lack of water made me decide to walk on. I followed the contour of the stunning ridge gently down. Dear reader, my apologies for repeating myself but the view from up there was a cracker and is locked into my memory forever.

 



The view from Brinkley Bluff of the ridge looking east towards Standley Chasm

Long ago, before people there was the DREAMTIME.  

A giant caterpillar or Yiperinye came up,

came up from underneath the earth at Mount Zeil, 

crawled across the land

leaving behind Tjuritja

the West MacDonnell Ranges

and disappeared at

Alice Springs

 

This story was told by Lofty Katakarinja, a story passed

 on to him by song and dance over many generations.

Some of the earliest drawings of man; the caterpillar stripes at Emily Gap

I was unjustifiably irate when, to top the day off, the track lead through a messy creek bed for two kilometres. My feet feeling, despite the engineered, rear-end cushioning like someone had stuck them in a blender. Suddenly, the sign appeared, joyously, announcing that Standley Chasm would only be another seven hundred metres. Walking that last stretch over a flat, bitumised road is a strange sensation after braving chunky rocks for so long - the sound of cars overwhelming after the soft sounds of nature.
 

Signs of better things to come

I set up camp next to the car park at the chasm and could only muster a lamely limp to the toilet block as everything hurt that late afternoon. On my way there a jovial gentleman with a semi-grey beard who sat writing in his diary and noted the state I was in. He told me he was struggling with the trail so much, he was surprised nobody had found his decomposing corps on the side of the track. I told him I wasn't far off laying down next to him.

Instantly we talked about the moving community on the Larapinta trail. There was the fast talking/walking Douglas; the fantastic four including the girl with one thong; and many more to chat about. I told my lawyer about Roz and John and the Melbournian hikers he was yet to meet.

 

We were invited to join a Polish family around a bon-fire they had set up. No longer surprised to hear they were in this area to compete in the World Rogaining Championship as a family. It was a revitalizing night full of laughs that went on till way after my dreamtime. Nine thirty???

 



The Yeperenye caterpillar, photo courtesy of Word press

Grey Bits

 

There is an informative government website that will tell you many great stories, ancient history and more about the West MacDonnell's including Lofty's tail   http://www.nt.gov.au/westmacs/stories/culture/all/175

 



I suspect this is a Dusky Grass Wren found in the creek bed
before the chasm. Let me know if this is not the DGW 

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Do you want to become a guest blogger, write your own story and publish on my blog? I would love to hear from you. Email me at storiesfrommars@gmail.com 

Larapinta 1. Dead Skin and a Big Red Car




'Both my small toes look like little cabbages' I thought days before breaking the seal of the Larapinta trail. Like a lizard of the surrounding desert, large slabs of skin are peeling off of my feet and toes. Remnants are to be found all over the caravan floor and in my socks. Four weeks on, after my feet received a proper beating on the Kokoda track, finally, they are lovely and soft. Mmmm!! Marshmallow feet. Not ideal for another rampaging hike you may think.

Again I am looking for some gut wrenching physical punishment, like a junky looking for a fix. It is a mystery to many including myself. I am sure there is a rich vein of masochism flowing through me like the smelliest of blue vein cheeses. This is the Red Centre of Australia, West MacDonnell Ranges (no burgers anywhere). We are talking Northern Territory but the even more isolated South end, if that makes sense? At least 1000km away from a large city in any direction. I am shedding the muddy, humid Kokoda skin for a place more Aussie than Burkes backyard.

To travel to my "home among the gumtrees" I have to food shop for this trail. Nestled snuggly in the ancient red centre between the East and West MacDonnell Ranges is Alice Springs - an excellent venue for purchasing dried mushed potato. Alice is a small  hub of activity that has everything you need in way of amenities, museums and bucket loads of cultural experiences. I am planning to be out on the trail for 16 days, drop off the carefully assembled food boxes underway and walk back to Alice. Only a cool 230km hike. This time I will be on my own. I have avoided the large hiking companies and told myself to be brave. This Nomad is hiking solo.

"What can go wrong"?

The Larapinta track (purple) runs through Tjoritja or the West MacDonell National Park. Map courtesy of Wikipedia 

Jules and I drove up Larapinta Drive, armoured with three boxes full of dried stodgy packet food, plenty of peanut butter and the best a coffee bag can be, after it has been contaminated by milk powder. We are making a day of it as we are Gorge hopping along Larapinta and Namatjira drive (see map). First we have a quick look at Simpsons Gap and continue on to the first drop off point that is Standley Chasm. I am excited to see a coffee machine in the kiosk. While we were there sipping on our Cappuccino’s, the dusty car park that is surrounded by towering red cliffs, was swamped with buses, four-wheel drives and the obligatory, painted up backpacker bomb. It is July and peak season.

 

Tranquillity, serenity and quiet reflexion

 

My first food supply box was taken without having to pay a fee at the kiosk. Soon after leaving the Chasm we turned right on Namatjira Drive. This road reaches all the way through a strip of relatively flat plain among the magnificent jaggered edges of the mountain range. The shape of this range is of such a faultless straight line it almost looks bizarrely planned (photos of this phenomena to follow later in this blog). Its reddish colour with Ghost gums and bludges of green. Photogenic to say the least. 'Can I do it justice with my camera'? I wonder. As I am staring up high from inside the car I say to Julie “surely the track doesn’t go all the way up there?” Will it? So many unknowns.

So much to look forward to.

Ellery creek, a quiet waterhole among steep cliffs, is of individual beauty, like all the other gorges, a large crevasse crossing through the range where water has carved out a creek. We arrive at the campsite overlooking the orangey, red range and I managed to find the store room tucked in under the same roof as the toilet. After jiggling with the lock, the door swung open. I noticed straight away the walls up high were open mesh. Any hairy-arsed wombat could crawl in and feast on my couscous and muesli bars. I imagine a fat wombat running off with a teabag hanging out of the corner of it's mouth. Earl Grey off course!! My box, being the only cardboard box, was surrounded by plastic, more protection offering upperty-class boxes. There was nothing I could do about it except hope that the local marsupials were not hungry for the next couple of days while I walked back.

 

Plenty of water through these Gorges

 

At Ormiston Gorge we walked down to the waterhole after delivering the third box at the back of the kiosk. We were struck by the splendorous reflections of rock walls in water. Similar mirror images greeted us after a 2km hike at Red River Gorge - the narrow, knobbly walls closing in at the end with a sizable deep pool. The water way too cold for a stripping off and a jump in.

 

This massive bird sat in a tree at Ormiston Gorge

 

The sun started to drop behind the red, granite walls and we sat on a bench in the car park at the trailhead eating scones and cream. The last bit of luxury before the indigestible hikers diet would replace anything fresh and green.  Julie told me she was jealous of what was to come and lamented the fact that her knees were not up for the challenge.

 

We said our good buys - the last hug so warm and comfortable - why would you ever let go.

 

This is it!!! The first lift of my 18kg backpack. Even though I only have to walk 300 metres. Where is Smiddy?? My porter of the Kokoda track. This pack is a beast.

Smiddyyyyy!!!!

I set up my small, lime green home for the first time that evening.  Against my better judgment I found myself a spot  in the recommended dry river bed (I was a under the impression that camping in a river bed could be dangerous due to flooding). A group of scouts camped a short way away from my tent  were singing "Choo Choo Chugger Chugger big red car" by the Wiggles. With that ripper of a song, stuck on repeat, reverberating through my mind, I have an absolute shocker of a flew ridden night.

My home in a creek bed

 
 Welcome to the Larapinta trail.  Choo Choo…..

 

 Grey Bits

 

The key to the store rooms to Ellery creek and Ormiston Gorge, I collected  from the Visitor's Centre in Alice Springs. I paid a $50 deposit for the key and $10 for usage. You can buy a Larapinta Trail package with maps and information for $38 or you can photocopy the maps from their website like I did. https://nt.gov.au/leisure/recreation/bushwalking-hiking/larapinta-trail

There are many hiking companies that facilitate walking the Larapinta and cater for any kind of fitness level. You can Google Larapinta Trail which will direct you to these trekking companies.

Namatjira Drive is named after Albert Namatjira, who is a famous Indigenous painter from the Northern Territory. His work is absolutely sublime. Great use of colours and composition. Check out this article if you want to know more about him. https://makinghistoryatmacquarie.wordpress.com/2012/11/19/the-national-embrace-of-albert-namatjira-in-an-era-of-assimilation-and-an-indifferent-inclusion/
 



Namatjira's famous 'Gumtree in front of Mount Sonder'. My first night was spent on the left of this mountain.
Picture courtesy of the website mentioned above

In my research I found two differing definitions of the word Larapinta. One explains it means 'salt water', the other 'dry river bed'. Take your pick.

Do you want to become a guest blogger, write your own story and publish on my blog? I would love to hear from you. Email me at storiesfrommars@gmail.com
     

Give it a shot!!!