TOD Tour, Day 62 – Warrumbah Gorge

Sue's elusive friend

Our last day a Carnarvon NP started with the realisation that we had visited here three times, each visit being ten years apart.

It was a relaxed morning: reading mostly but it also include morning tea with new acquaintances, Rob and Sue and for Sue, finally getting to see the platypus which live in the Carnarvon Creek beside our accommodation at Taranakka Bush Camp.

After lunch, we walked into Mickey Creek but took the right fork in the track to Warrumbah Gorge, described by some as the most beautiful place in Carnarvon NP.

Like most of the side gorges, there is a walk into the main gorge wall of a few hundred metres, to a point where the tracks divide, then a climb up into an increasingly narrow opening in the gorge wall. At a point where a NP sign informs you that the formal track ends, local encouragement takes over and you breeze on past.

What waits beyond the end of the formed track is quite spectacular. A crack which starts as perhaps twenty metres wide, with sheer walls rising on either side and large rocks littering the space between, varying but being consistently the size of bowling balls. Pools of water from the intermittent stream which flows through the gorge only after rain, lie in various states of stagnation. The water is cold and still and crystal clear. The gorge takes several turns, always with the walls closing toward each other and the passage becoming more difficult. Stepping stones help in some places but in others, passage is maintained by the narrowest of ledges and scant handholds, with pools of water waiting for any slip. Getting wait would be an inconvenience but the rocks which lie in their pools are the sleeping maleficent.

I could touch both walls
at once at this point

Sue had to call it quits about two thirds of the way before passage just became too inconvenient, at a time when the walls towered sixty metres to the surface but only a few metres apart. It was a fair effort to get that far. My latent blokeness took me on along narrow ledges, through a space where the walls closed to a metre and there were no hand or footholds and progress was only made by pressing your feet against one wall and your hands against the other and finally over a vertical climb over a boulder which blocked the gorge and required passengers to make two footholds more than a metre apart vertically over an overhang on two sides with limited handholds. It struck me as I rose over this obstruction that ascent was one thing but descent would be altogether more difficult. So it proved. A clamber over a log which had fallen lengthways along the narrow crevice completed my journey, for beyond it was a pool that extended for perhaps ten metres and looked to be at least thigh deep in places.

Enough was enough.

A bloke with longer legs and a twelve year old son breezed past and through the pool, never to be seen again … until he passed me on the way out.

I was right about the backwards decent back off the boulder. Luckily for me, a nurse by profession and an understanding and envious middle aged woman by experience, who had expressed envy of my original daring do to go over the boulder, stood waiting for my return and quietly gave me feedback about how far my feet were from the now unseen footholds.

It was a magic place and as always in such wild places, the photographs don’t provide justice to our endeavours to breach it.

This marked our last afternoon for this trip to Carnarvon Gorge NP. Anyone who likes to walk through the bush and be amazed by stunning physical scenery, geology or aboriginal culture and art work, should mark this place down as a must. Apart from walks which are relaxed stroll, right through challenging day walks up to 20kms, there is also a seven day walk which takes in both the floor of the main gorge and the tops around it. It is rated one of Australia’s great long distance nature walks.

At the entrance to Warrumbah 

They should also get here while the place is still in good stead, as the previous Qld government has reduced park staff from 11 down to 4. The park office, previously a font of information and history, is rarely staffed. The camping area inside the national park is open only for Qld school holiday and even then, severe restrictions apply as to which types of vehicle may enter. There are occasional ranger guided activities but these are usually only in school holidays and even then they are few and getting further between. Twenty years ago, there was a ranger talk and slide show every night of the holidays – it was her that our daughter Sarah first cried over Faces In The Mob - and guided walks on every other day. One of the few walks is on tomorrow but cost $50 per adult!!!

This was a good detour to make.

TOD Tour, Day 61 - Moss Gardens & The Amphitheatre

There are very few things that will get Sue out of bed before 7:00am. In fact, until this morning, I can think of none. However, when I dared to try and break through her dazed, half-sleep this morning with the suggestion we go down to the creek and see if there was a platypus about, she was up and dressed faster than a George Bailey innings.

The talk we attended in the late of yesterday afternoon, offered by the management of our accommodation, indicated that the best place to be guaranteed a siting of the elusive little monotreme, was in the creek below the camp kitchen. In fact, at least two mating pairs were said to be there.

So, in the early morning light, we made our way to the bank or at least that part of the bank we could secure, as many others had been erstwhile in following the advice. After fifteen minutes, the crowd was thinning and after twenty five there were just a few of us. It was then that I could sight of a little furry submarine sliding across the surface of the creek about thirty metres away. Even that could hold Sue for any longer, her back telling her it was time to go. That just left me and a deaf bloke chatting about the chance of further sighting. I'm not being facetious. He was profoundly deaf, declaring it to me when he arrived but we managed.

A few minutes later, when the platypus returned on the far bank, he let out a yell to alert me. After a few minutes, he went to get his wife - also profoundly deaf - and his bright little daughter who gently warned me about her parents disability. She hadn't inherited their disability. I never cease to learn things in life and it took a while to concentrate on the little fellow overturning rocks on the far bank as they signed their excitement.

The next bad day I'll try and remember these three and their joy, expressed in silent amazement.

The platypus continued on, working the far bank and oblivious to a growing audience gathering on the bank. Once the jungle drums get the beat going, a campground can empty for such things. It worked over the interface between the water and the bank, covering about twenty metres in the space of fifteen minutes, constantly shucking rocks and digging in the soft bank for tasty crustaceans.

When it finished there, it started working the bottom of the pool, surfacing for air and then diving to mud to shovel for food. Whereas capturing its image along the bank had been relatively easy, trying to snap a photo in between dives was almost impossible.

Over the space of forty minutes, I managed to get a few shots and some decent video footage ... which I took back to the van to show a very disappointed wife! Perhaps tomorrow she'll have more luck.

Our aim today was to walk the main track up the centre of the Carnarvon Gorge and visit the Moss Gardens. Like all of the main attractions in this park, the Moss Gardens lies up a side gorge which has been cut into the sandstone cliffs by small streams which come down to meet Carnarvon Creek. We have walked to all of the side gorges on previous visits (1996 & 2006) but these day, long days walking can be difficult for Sue. In fact, before beating forth from Tamworth in February, it was unlikely we would do more than three kilometres flat walking in any one attempt. Dorrigo put paid to that.

We started walking at about 8:30am, moving into the gorge at a steady pace, despite the undulations at the start of the walk they we didn't remember. After about 800m we came upon the Boolimbah Bluff track and then about an hour in, we arrived at the turn for Moss Gardens. More climbing, a long creek crossing and before long, we were sitting in a delightful, cool place, with a waterfall gently falling in front of us and moss growing abundantly on the sandstone walls. A remarkable place.

Looking at the map and charged with the fact that in two visits she had never seen the Amphitheatre, Sue insisted we walk on.

The Amphitheater is a large chamber behind a crack in the main gorge wall. It's a small space, perhaps twenty metres across and thirty metres long in a flattened oval. The walls rise vertically - and I mean that literally - and end sixty metres above you. It's an impossible place to shoot photos and evidence what your eyes see. There is no way to do it justice.

The acoustics are said to be fantastic in this place. On Sue's insistence, once other punters had left, I sang for her: "The Impossible Dream" from Man of La Mancha and "Bring Him Home" from Les Miserable.

We met a nice couple, Rob and Sue, chatted with them for a while and made a date for drinks later in the day.

The walk back to the car was quiet, particularly after the Sue stopped interrogating a lady from Rockhampton for local information. She has become the equivalent of the tourist face hugger, never letting go until she has sucked the essence out of locals.

Back at our digs, Sue made grandma noises and complained of aches and pains until I took her out to a coffee shop at a nearby bush resort and we struck up a conversation with Beth, a young tourist on a working visa from Suffolk in England. She shared with us the places they had seen in Australia and we filled in the places she had missed. Lovely young lass.

Drinks to round out the evening and then I faced the local wifi, convinced after an hour or so trying to do what I can accomplish in ten minutes at home that it might have been quicker to drive to all parts of Australia and deliver blogs personally.

   

AUC 1995 - The Art Gallery; Wards Canyon; The Amphitheatre (Carnarvon Gorge NP) Qld

Unfortunately for Sue, Sarah had not fully recovered, despite a day off and her coughing and general unwellness was enough to make us realise she was not fit for walking.

Therefore, Gog, Pa, Chris, Sam and I set offfor our last day in Carnavon Gorge, intent on seeing the best of what it had to offer. Our proposed trek was to cover 14 kilometres, but as we would be starting with the furthest feature from the camp, every successive feature was closer to home than the last.

It was a clear day with an eventual top temperature in the early twenties, but our routes into the side gorges would provide plenty of opportunity for cooling down.

The first destination was The Art Gallery, an aboriginal art site 5.7 kms from camp (plus the 500 metres from our actual tent site to the start of the walk). As with all of the sights here, you had to ascend a steep slope into the attraction itself. On the track in, we spied an unusual rock formation jutting out from the leading edge of a nearby precipice. It strongly resembled a giraffes head. It had separated from the main rock wall and was sitting precariously over the creek below, like Damocles Sword.

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A final series of steep steps and we rounded a rock to be confronted by a long wall of aboriginal art. There are three types of art work on show at this sight. About half of the work is in the now familiar form of stenciling. In this form, ochre is mixed with water and sometimes animal fat and blood and spat from the mouth over the object to be stencil copied. Here, hands were common, but boomerangs and clubs were also easily discernible.

The most used colour is the red ochre, but orange, white and black are also used. Red is most used,
because it is the best at remaining in solution.

The other common form of art work here are petroglyphs - engravings, made with sharp sticks or stone. Without question, the replication of the female vagina is the most talked about feature and the one most often reproduced on these walls. It is uncertain as to why these appear in this particular site and what the significance of them being here in such numbers is. One thing which did become apparent, however, was not all members of our party had read of the existence of these patterns before walking.

All of the markings on the walls are clearly sign posted and additional explanatory comments on
plaques are attached to the restraining fence. The youngest member of our party, Sam, turned to me and announced ... "Gee Dad. Fancy the aborigines knowing about exclamation marks back then !" My mirth turned to hardly restrained laughter when the oldest member of the party, Gog, thought they were depictions of coolamons. I discretely directed her to the appropriate plaque, hoping to save her from further embarrassment; only to have her return and explain to both of the boys the etchings were the artist's impressions of looking down your throat.

A return visit to the plaque finally revealed the truth to our muddled matriarch, updating her knowledge database by about three quarters of a metre. Much giggling ensued !

Having topped up the tummies with morning tea, we returned to me main track and began retracing our steps eastward, to Ward's Canyon. This narrow side gorge was used extensively by the Ward brothers prior to the first World War. They were marsupial hunters and knew the gorge well. It is considered they were the first Europeans to really get to know the gorge and the surrounding country. Among other uses they found for the cold and wet conditions in the canyon that was to eventually bear their name, was the storing of fresh meat in the warmer months and the processing of film on moonless nights.

The canyon had been renamed Angiopteris Ravine, after the Angiopteris Evecta or King Fern, which are so plentiful in the canyon. However, a move was made in recent times, to return to local names that were meaningful. The King Fern is not found in any other place in Carnarvon Gorge NP.

The ascent to the beginning of the Canyon was, as usual, steep, but thankfully, not long. Within 250 metres, we had reached the beginning of this wonderful place. The initial opening is the place where the small creek running through the Canyon makes its appearance in the Gorge at Lower Aljon Falls. The falls were named after Alfred Jones, the Lord Mayor of Brisbane, who had been a keen supporter of the Australasian Geographic Society. The Society had made many trips into the park from the late 1930's through to the early 1960's.

A narrow, but well formed pathway In the bedrock sandstone winds its way into the back recesses of the Canyon, With each turn, the entire passage closes in, as the walls above tower skyward. As It darkens, the King Ferns appear. Fed by the moisture and protected from the light, they thrive in a perfect environment.

The path leads to three final stepping stones. We had arrived soon after midday, but despite the high
position of the sun, the light was still only filtered. Moving forward, in turn, we each walked forward on those remaining steps to the very end of the canyon. On reaching the last stone, you are treated to a rare sight in nature. There before you, is a unspoiled rock pool, perhaps only half a metre deep. The extent of chasm which contains the pool is unclear as the walls to left and right are obscured by the narrow crevice through which you are looking (perhaps 1.5 metres). At the far end of the pool, trickling down the wall as it has done for countless centuries, is a small but delightful waterfall, known as Upper Aljon Falls.

This sight was breath taking. The walk into the Canyon had been special enough, but this reward at the very end of the passage was unexpected. However, this was the overture only. Over the next few minutes, we became aware the light was changing. Sunlight was beginning to spill into the chasm in a slender shaft. Then, in an unique display, the sunlight made a small, bright spot on the water surface, sending reflections dancing on the ceiling and walls of the chasm and the walls of the canyon beyond, where we were standing. As the sun continued it's slow ride across the sky above, its searching rays moved further toward the falling water. They never actually reached it - such was the angle of entry of the sunlight - but their final wonder was a display of sparkling light on the surface of the broken water in front of the falls which looked like so many fireflies dancing in courtship.

This poignant reminder oj God's wonderful creation lasted, in its entirety, for twenty minutes. The departing farewell of the sun's entry into the chasm, was the glowing yellow and then orange of the
sandstone wall high above and slightly behind the falls themselves.

As we turned to consume our lunch in an earlier section of the Canyon, the adults in the party reflected that this would be one place which would be hard to leave, such was the beauty soaking our senses.

Chris near the
Amphitheatre

Reluctantly, we eventually made our way out and down from Ward's Canyon and again headed East. The track took us to our last stop for the day, the much heralded Amphitheatre.

The now perfunctory steep side gorge track, gave way at its end to an obstacle we had been previously warned about. There, below a 1.5 metre wide crack in the sandstone wall 15 metres above the track, was a steel ladder that had to be climbed to accomplish access. For the more adventurous in our party, this was a challenge, but not one we believed would be beyond us. I am sure all of our thoughts turned to Gog, no lover of heights and certainly the least likely person to scale a
15 metre vertical steel ladder.

Each took our turn. Chris, closely followed by Sam and myself: providing back up to both of them in case they had a mishap. The ladder was surrounded by a steel cage, thus providing a greater degree of safety.

It had not always been thus. As recent at ten years ago, the ladder had been in place with no safety cage and a chain to pull yourself up and into the narrow passageway connecting the outside world with the totally encased Amphitheatre beyond.

Gog and Pa then took their turn and despite wobbles and undoubted fear, both made the ascent.

The Amphitheatre is a big hole in the ground, behind the sandstone cliffs which mark the edge of the
Carnarvon Gorge escarpment. Water has found a weak spot and has eroded out a space 50 metres deep and 50 metres across. The water then escapes through the narrow entrance crack and on, into Carnarvon Gorge proper. The walls are shear and little vegetation exists inside, apart from ferns. It is an awesome, somehow threatening place and one I was glad to leave.

Damper after a big day
Les & June Langston

So saying, we did not linger long and in doing so, retraced our steps to face the even more frightening
descent of the steel ladder. I descended first, with Sam above me and then made return trips up the ladder for Chris, Gog and Pa, each to reprise Sam's position above me in their descent. Nerves shaken - and knees to match - we gathered ourselves and slowly wended our way back along the
creek to camp. All were tired, but excited by what we had seen, particularly the sights in Ward's Canyon.

For me personally, this was one of the most satisfying days walking I had ever undertaken. Many of the memories will be etched into my consciousness forever.

We had a rousing campfire that night and a damper mad by Gog.

Invariably there were regrets about missed opportunities and things which should have been done, but weren't. The fantastic nature of the sights we had seen left us all feeling sorry for Sue and Sarah, who had, because of no fault of their own, missed the best of the wonders Carnarvon had to show.

On the final morning, we enquired about the possibility of an additional toilet block being installed at the eastern end of the camping area - our only real concern during our stay. We were informed, by the friendly Ranger who had given the photographic slide presentation on our initial night at the Gorge, that funding had been sought on numerous occasions, but had not been forthcoming.

On the way out of the park, we paused long enough to get a photograph of the Reman air disaster memorial. In 1943, a US Dakota DC3, carrying US and Australian military personnel, crashed near the eastern boundary of the park, during a violent electrical storm. All on board were killed and a section of wing and a plaque are all that remain as a memorial to those who lost their lives on board.

TODAY'S PHOTOS

Our final stop was at Balloon Cave, another aboriginal art site. This was less spectacular than the Art Gallery, in both the number and variety of the art work. This guided walk contained interesting information relating to aboriginal use of the flora as medicines and tools.

A quiet descended on us as we bumped our way back out to the Carnarvon Highway, to head further north.

AUC 1995 - Boolimba Bluff (Carnarvon Gorge NP)

A mild night and a good kip and the crew was ready to walk again.

Our morning was spent in restful contemplation of what to tackle next and our decision led us to an assault on Boolimba Bluff. This was to involve a 200 metre vertical climb over 3.5 km. Gog and Pa set off full of hope they might be able to ascend to the summit as the view was reputed to be worth the effort. I had severe doubts that at nearly 70, it was within their range.

Commencing at 11:30 am, after an early lunch, the first half a kilometre teased and stretched the sinews, muscles and limbs which had been telling us of the day before. We turned off the main track soon after the first creek crossing and almost immediately began the ascent. The first 100 metres was a reasonably steep grade of earth track and some stone. The vegetation was predominantly eucalypts, cabbage palms and zamias and during this part of the walk we spotted a zamia in early flower. The bud was green, with spiked sections which obviously peel back to eventually reveal the orange fruit inside.

The cabbage palm is so named because early settlers used the new growth on the palm as a substitute
cabbage, as part of their attempts to adapt to the local available food sources.

The following kilometre was a more gradual climb as we traveled around the base of the vertical, white cliffs marking the steepest sections of the ascent. The pathway took us to a narrow chasm which reverted to a very steep climb over specifically placed stone steps and in places, steel ladders. This section of 300 metres, took us some time and several rest stops, before the summit was reached.
From a point at the very head of the chasm, the track was virtually flat for 500 metres across the top of the Bluff, to the three lookouts on the southern side - the northern side of the Gorge, itself.

Many people we had passed returning from the top had told us we would earn the view, but we would find the physical payment good value for the optical return. This advice proved to be correct.

The lookouts provided a panorama of the Gorge, for some way west and upstream into the Gorge and eastward overlooking the Arcadia Valley. The white cliffs of the Carnarvon Range continue in their basically eastern run for many kilometres.

Directly opposite the first of lookouts, the top of the Precipice Sandstone is known as the Hell Hole Range. This is further capped by basalt which flowed over the bed of sandstone in the second stage of the geological life of this area. These basalt flows are clearly evident by their flat topped nature and the starkly contrasting dark black colour against the relief of the underlying white sandstone.

Video footage was shot by all parties concerned and afternoon tea was taken on the summit, before our return journey. At the base of the steep section. Pa entertained our party with a version of Barnacle Bill that will reverberate through future generations.

A detour at the end of the walk took us along the Nature Trail in the hope of finding and viewing the
platypus which proliferate in Carnavon Creek. Many others had the same notion and the bulk of the party left for camp in search of a sit down, a cuppa or a cold beer. Those remaining die hards were rewarded by a sighting in a small hole, not far from camp. In the fading light, the shy watery marsupial gave us a display that only sought to tease us and leave us wanting more.

The evening closed in and became quite cold and our sleep did not have it's usual depth, as the

TODAY'S PHOTOS

younger members of the party were restless in their attempts to stay warm and in their need to commune with nature.

However, cold nights generally lead to clear days and it was this prospect which kept our hopes up as the small hours passed into daylight.

AUC 1995 - Moss Gardens (Carnarvon Gorge)

Our first day of walking for the trip saw us heading off along the main track that runs the length of the park. Essentially, there is one track which acts like a spine along the length of the gorge and
side tracks - or spurs - radiate from it and pick up the more spectacular side gorges which have been
created by the influx of tributaries to the main creek.

It was decided, by collective wisdom, we should walk to the closest of these side gorges, Hell Hole Gorge. A further side gorge runs off this and is called Violet Gorge. It was a special feature in Violet Gorge we were seeking through our pedestrian endeavours - the aptly named, Moss Gardens.

The weather was overcast, with occasional spits of rain, which made walking very pleasant. The track meanders up the gorge, crossing the creek at numerous places. Each crossing is numbered and Rangers refer to these in giving their directions. The floor of the gorge is marked by the proliferation of Bladey Grass. According to our erstwhile, but verbally challenged ranger of the previous evening, this may well be promoted by the controlled burning which is carried out as part of management practices.

As We walked along, the white sandstone cliffs towered above us - silent Jurassic sentinels keeping vigil for the tribes who have long since passed from the ownership of occupation. Carnawon Creek burbled it's way over collections of sandstone and basalt rocks that have been moved along the bed of the creek by floods of varying intensity. In 1990, a flood of such power hit the gorge, that the rangers had to replace or re position the majority of the stepping stones, strategically placed to provide the crossings for walkers. This involved days of work with crow bars, as they rolled and rocked the goolies back into their correct places.

Approximately 2 kms into our 3.6 km journey to Moss Garden, it came to light Sue had left her keys at the camp site. As this opened a window of opportunity to any potential thief - a window which may have opened wide enough to access the guitar, computer, video camera, money and other valuables. I decided - with an air of joy and understandable levity - to stow my pack and reverse direction to camp and close it!

My return trip completed, I met up again with the rest of the crew at the turn off to Moss Garden.

At this point, another item of note was the environmental toilet - the elevated type that composts the deposits left by humans and creates compos/fertiliser etc. The lattice around the base of the toilet was very Queensland !

The side track into Violet Gorge involved some climbing to attain the height of the Koolaroo Creek at the waterfall which feeds Moss Garden. After negotiating the increasingly narrow track - some of us with more difficulty than others - we arrived at the end point and were treated to a wonderful display of ferns, mosses, liverworts and hornworts. The soft sandstone cliffs rose above us, as we sat and consumed our morning tea of muesli bars, fruit, and biscuits. Gulps of refreshing water and one or two barley sugars completed our nourishment. As our bodies soaked up our snacks, our senses soaked up the offerings of nature.

Our return trip included a detour, for three of the party, upstream of the junction of Hell Hole and Violet Gorges. Pa, Chris and I, investigated this narrow gorge for about 200 metres, but decided to retrace our steps and rejoin the others at the main track.

With our noses turned for home, we walked at a reasonable clip back to the camp, to complete a
satisfying first outing. Late lunches were consumed with gusto and rests were taken in various forms.
Further rain and overcast conditions led to the erection of a large tarp over our living area - a decision which was to prove insightful as the evening wore on and constant showers swept in from the west.

Our evening was spent around the fire, playing Celebrity Heads and discussing family matters. A few ports and the increasing chill of the air, drove us to bed for a night of restful sleep.

AUC 1995 - Carnavon Gorge

Roma, Injune, Carnarvon Gorge Qld 
(Carnarvon Highway) 258 kms

Lunch at Injune

How much colder can It get at night!

The crew woke from a fitful night of visits to the toilet and shivering, after minus 2 degrees and a heavy frost. The small tent ended up being closed down completely for the night to keep us as warm as possible, but the resultant condensation storm the next morning had us reaching for raincoats inside the tent!

I discovered a rodent in the food box - not to be confused with Chris - and was gentle in my treatment of it in case it was one of Arthur's native marsupial mice. Carefully picking it up by it's tail, so as to ensure it would be unharmed by my handling, I was able to display it's delicate features to the children. Their "oohs" and "aahs" turned to gales of laughter when the little bugger turned tail and bit me on the finger!

With camp broken - not unlike the skin on my finger - we headed into town for a new billy and some
abridged sight seeing. The information centre provided us with some pamphlets re Carnavon Gorge and Roma. The camping shop was able to supply us with data regarding the bottle trees that adorn the main street. They were planted for the war dead (WWII) but have become infested with a fungus and are gradually dying. Qld government funding is being expended in an attempt to save as many as possible and replant those that cannot be saved.

I was able to add some Langston Family history to Roma by explaining to the captive audience, this was the place Pa purchased his first Akubra hat, when visiting the gas fields of the area.

On our way out of Roma, we called at the Romavilla Winery - the oldest winery in Qld - and added some camp fire companionship to our stocks of supplies.

Blue faced honey eater

Lunch was taken at Injune, in a small park supported by the CCWA Youth - although we were certain none of them were present, unless the old gentleman mowing the lawns of the adjacent Injune Bowling Club was a guide to the now aging membership. During lunch, we were entertained by Sue, who showed her support for Kodak by shooting half a roll of film trying to procure a photograph of an interesting bird we had first observed at Roma. It turned out it was blue-face honey eater.

After sandwiches of Virginian Shaved Ham, it was on to Carnarvon Gorge.  We stopped by the road to gather wood for camp fires during our time in Carnarvon and this was done with unparalleled family unity. From this stopping point, the road deteriorated into a rough, corrugated surface that shook the gear and the occupants. However, the camping area at Carnarvon Gorge NP was eventually found and there, waiting for us at the Information Centre, was the Garden Gnome and his Mate - the children's grandparents, Les & June Langston.

Camp site established, we had a filling tea of mince and pasta, accompanied by Chris on the guitar.

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After dinner, it was off to an outdoor slide presentation from Ranger Bill or Nick or "something" (information supplied by Pa), showing us the special features of CGNP. The pictures were good, but the dialogue left a lot to be desired. Needless to say, our presenter had not accomplished all of the necessary Talking & Listening outcomes one would consider necessary for the task he set out to complete.