Karijini

It hadn’t taken long to realize Western Australia was not as accessible as other parts of Australia, and the organized tours were quite expensive. Places like the horizontal waterfalls and the Bungle Bungle Range were upwards of six hundred dollars a piece. That simply wasn’t in my budget, nor did we have the time to go on a three-day off-roading excursion to get there.

In a way it was a blessing that Hagrid was a two-wheel drive vehicle, because it limited our options. I think I would have found it harder skipping parts of the country if I knew I had the means of getting there. Ultimately, I decided that later in life when I have the money saved up, I will come back to AUS on a tourist visa and spend two months exploring all the places I missed.

Eighty Mile Beach was exactly what it sounded like, eighty miles of pristine beach stretching beyond the limits of sight. It had mixed reviews in regards to swimming safety, so we kept to walking along the shoreline, examining shells, and watching hermit crabs get swept away in the waves.  We were there a grand total of an hour, and to be frank it was plenty.

The brief spell at the beach was just enough to push our arrival time at the rest stop past sunset. The last thirty minutes of the drive were harrowing as I frantically scanned the edges of the pavement for active wildlife. Other than a small bumper dent from a flying rock, we arrived without consequence at a truck layby outside of Port Headland, our stop for the night.

Australia took semi-trucks to a whole different level. In the US one trailer semis could be found everywhere, occasionally you might spot one dragging two trailers. In Oz they could have as many as FOUR trailers. These beasts were fittingly known as “road trains.” Passing one on a narrow road was one of the more stressful parts of driving there. Sometimes the driver would go out of his/her way, using their indicator light to signal when it was safe to pass.

Karijini National Park had been repeatedly recommended to us, except by the couple we met at a rest stop outside of Broome who thankfully reigned in our expectations. Due to the shorter than normal wet season several of the waterfalls were…well, not falling, and bush fires had burned away a lot of the greenery. They said Litchfield and Emma Gorge were far superior to Karijini, but encouraged us to judge for ourselves.

As was common in WA we were only able to access the 2WD portions of the park, and after the corrugated road of Gunlom we were dedicated to sealed highways.

Our exploration began with a cliff walk along the cracking red dirt of Dale’s Gorge. It was just shy of  mid-day and we figured it was best to get the hot, unshaded portion done first. Once we reached the ledge above Circular Pool, we descended into the heart of the gorge via a series of crumbling stone steps. Deeper into the canyon, we followed the yellow trail markers across rocks resembling books lying on an empty table in a library.

A slimy trickle of water kept us company as we navigated our way through the stone stacks. The trees thickened and as we ducked under a branch laughter floated down to us from the pool ahead. It was like Emma Gorge in that it was nestled between the kissing canyon walls; yet it was smaller, murkier, and quite crowded.

Looci and I sat in the shade and watched people walk through the muddy shallows to reach deeper waters. Since our hike continued through the gorge to another watering hole, we agreed it would be best to wait till then for a dip. After refreshing ourselves with a generous helping of water, we turned back the way we had come.

Over the books and past the stone stairs we walked into a eucalyptus forest. The trees were polished white like a Geisha’s face. Looking up the canyon walls I couldn’t help but gape at the canvass above: deep red walls meeting the royal blue sky scattered with white clouds.

A pathway of steppingstones kept our feet dry as we crossed the active brook. The long grasses gave way to reveal a tranquil pool, Fern Pool. Fortunately, we did not give in to its alluring waters as we had been warned about the presence of leeches.

Instead we walked on 300m to Fortescue Falls, a popular swimming area that looked like it had been designed for a Japanese zen garden. The water was bracing but necessary after the long hike in the sun. We took our time swimming, though I couldn’t help noting the clumps of floating algae.

The beauty of Dale’s Gorge was undeniable, and the bush walk had been diverse and exciting. However, the cleanliness and clarity of the waters in Emma Gorge, Litchfield, and even Nitmiluk with its mossy rocks, far surpassed what we saw in Karijini.

Refreshed, we drove to the other end of the National Park to get a glimpse of the Marangoo Mine from Mt Bruce. As we drove, I thought of all the places we didn’t get to see. In hindsight, we could have gone to Joffre Falls, 50k down a sealed road, if we had planned for it. But we didn’t have time or petrol, nor did we know if there would even be water.

Looci waited in the van while I walked up to the first viewpoint. It was meant to be a thirty-minute return journey, but only took five, so I ventured a bit farther up the rocky hillside, until I came to a flat patch. The wind played with my freshly dried hair and whispered secrets in my ears. Australia was truly a beautiful and wonderous country; I was loath to leave it.

Ironically, after all our efforts to remain on sealed roads, on the way to our campsite GoogleMaps took us 40km down an unsealed road. It showed as a main thoroughfare on the app…yeah right.

By the time we arrived we were pretty beat; the area was quite dry so we figured bugs would be at a minimum. For dinner we cooked couscous with balsamic glaze; it was a bit of an ordeal to be honest. Looci fished at least four suicidal gnats out of the glaze as she was reducing it. Our anti-mozzie candles became graveyards from bugs that diving into the wax or roasting on the side of the metal t-light. It was so bad that I wandered through the campsite collecting wood in the hopes that a fire would draw them away from the van. We ate in the dark to avoid attention, though I’m sure a few of those pesky things ended up in my stomach. Needless to say, it was a campsite we were keen to put behind us.