Lovely Litchfield

As drove down the dirt road towards a plume of smoke, I found myself praying it wasn’t coming from Litchfield National Park. Since arriving in the north of the Northern Territory (NT) there had been endless days of smoke polluting our lungs. I understood it was vital to the maintenance of the environment, but I grew up in a fire prone area and whenever there was a big burn school was cancelled and alerts were released due to the poor air quality. I was enjoying my time in the Northern Territory and all of the amazing natural pools, but my lungs were not happy hiking in the smoke.

Compared to Kakadu, Litchfield was a bite-sized park; you could visit every site in one day, in my opinion you wouldn’t want to. Our exploration began at Cascades with the option to hike to Lower Falls or continue to Upper Falls. The sandy path started near a field of dry vegetation and continued on into a vein of greenery fed by a flowing river.

Across a bridge and into the wild we went, laughing at the “moderate hike” warning: it was nothing but flat ground and sandy terrain. Out laughter was cut short when the level path disappeared at the base of tilted stone stairs and jutting roots. Golden orb spiders nested in groups around the next river crossing. I watched my step, careful not to fall over into the blanket of webs on either side.

After a bit of scrambling, we arrived at a shy rock pool surrounded by slanted red stones. Balance was key as we stepped lightly up the side of the falls and beyond to a larger pond fed by a rush of water. With another watering hole on the agenda I didn’t bother jumping in, instead I cooled my feet and chatted with a couple from Perth. They were enjoying a short trip to the NT and parts of northern WA (Western Australia) and had plenty of advice on places worthy of our notice.

Sufficiently rested, we said our goodbyes and headed back through the jungle to the car park. Along the way I gazed at the quiet tarns below the falls and wondered what lurked in their depths. Swimming below the golden orb spider bridge was prohibited…crocs.

I didn’t regret saving myself for the next watering hole. Wangi Falls cascaded down into a beautiful deep lake. The water was crisp and welcoming, easing the heat of the day from my flesh. From the stone steps we could see large fish loping through the greenery near the bottom.

Before enjoying the waters of Wangi, Looci and I had prepared a feast on one of the public BBQs: veggie burgers and fresh cut fries. Who ever said living out of a van meant you had to eat boring? I was far too full to swim, so we did the loop trek up and around the falls before diving in. In the lower jungles we happened upon a flying fox sleeping directly adjacent to the path. The only time I miss my DSLR camera is when taking pictures of animals…and slow waterfall pics. You can just never get close enough with a phone camera. I tried my best not to disturb the little guy, or girl, as I took photos from every angle…and maybe a video too.

The path took us up above the falls into stone country; signs warned not to stray from the path as the land to either side was considered sacred. By the time we had climbed down the broken rocks on the other end, we were anxious for a swim.

A rainbow painted the cascades with color as we drifted out to the rocky face. A group of tourists had discovered a natural cup in the rocks, about ten feet deep but only wide enough to fit four or five. Looci and I went to investigate, the water was surprisingly warm. Further up the cliff was another indentation filled with greenery; I imagined a similar pool existed in the depths of the cavern, though I daren’t attempt to climb it.

Before setting up for the night we stopped by Tolmer Falls viewing platform. The angle of the sun and the lack of water in the cataract made it difficult to see. Upon moving to a different area we got a decent view of the fall and the black pool below.

There was time for a brief lie-in the following morning before we embarked on the hike from Florence Falls to Buley Rockhole. In hindsight, had I known we would be defending ourselves from horseflies the entire time, I would have said, “Screw the walk let’s just move Hagrid to the other car park.”

Buley was a series of quaint shallow ponds connected by tinkling falls. A solitary leaf drifted down the river, dipping below the surface after coming over a ledge, then it popped back up and continued its way. As I monitored its journey, I began to ponder the fact that a single leaf could travel farther than most people in their entire lives. I know people who leave Big Bear once every three months, who have never left California, and that is in a developed country. That leaf might travel an entire ocean, washing up on some distant shore on a different continent.

There were a lot of kids and families scrambling around at Buley Rockhole so we took that as our cue to migrate to Florence Falls via the creek track. Despite the horseflies, I found the trail far more appealing than the first one. It led us out into the dry, crisp landscape and I began to wonder where the creek came into play. After rounding a small hill, we found ourselves in the lush jungle on the edge of a bubbling river.

Florence Falls was just the icing on the Litchfield cake. It was the perfect watering hole: deep clear water, large rocks in the middle for relaxing in the sun or shade depending on preference, and the rich melodies of tumbling water. Surrounded by chirping birds, falling leaves, and reaching trees, we lingered as long as we dared with a long drive ahead of us.

There was one last stop in Litchfield, the Magnetic Termite Mounds, huge formations expertly constructed by the tiny creatures that homeowners feared would destroy their furniture and flooring. The mounds were angled so the sun would never be in direct contact with the main face, thus providing a cool, constant internal temperature.

After a few hours of driving we paused to visit the Adelaide River Cemetery, a memorial to the soldiers who gave their lives during WWII and the civilians who lost theirs in the Darwin attacks. I’ve mentioned in prior blogs that I quite enjoy graveyards, especially the older ones filled with character. I guess in my mind that was what I expected in lieu of the manicured lawns and prim shrubbery. What struck me the most was the ages of the fallen, most were younger than me, in their early twenties and late teens, they had barely begun to live.

The last time we drove through Katherine we neglected to stop at the hot springs. With our rest stop a mere thirty minutes outside the city, we decided to spend the remaining daylight in the lukewarm waters. They were crystal clear with a faint blue tinge, though farther downstream murk crept into the clarity.

As I floated around, I couldn’t help but marvel at how all the rock pools in the NT seemed to have the clearest water. When wrinkles puckered our fingers, we decided it was time to move on. The next day we would cross the border into Western Australia, where new adventures awaited.