The morning scene was a white tinted one and the only section of the tent which did not have an ice cover was the small patch above the gas stove where I had boiled the billy for our morning cuppa. When the frost had cleared, we gathered our gear and prepared to set off for another visit to the Pound and some video footage from the Wangarra Lookout.
Before leaving on our walk, Sam and Sarah spotted a wounded euro near to our tent. He was very
aggressive and had a cut on his upper rear leg. We reported him to the Ranger on duty, who arrived soon thereafter and inspected the wounded animal. It transpired the euro was an old buck who had been injured in a fight with a younger male and given his condition, the Ranger made the decision to put it down. We didn't stay to watch.
Even within a few days, additional wild flowers were on show and we enjoyed the ascent to the lookout and the view on offer. It was a walk we did not hurry and we stopped after descending from the lookout and had a light lunch by the Hills former farmhouse.
The afternoon was a typically relaxed affair, with showers and an early night the appropriate way to
complete our time at Wilpena Pound.
It had been a disappointing visit on the whole and we regretted not being able to travel to the northern end of the park, as we had originally planned. However, weather conditions had interrupted this plan and we had been restricted to the Pound.
This was a place which showed the effect of catering for the tourist as opposed to the traveller and whilst we were impressed with the rangers and their willingness to share Information, the condition of the campground was average and the walks restricted.
Showing posts with label Wilpena Pound. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Wilpena Pound. Show all posts
Wednesday, 6 September 1995
Tuesday, 5 September 1995
Exploring The Flinders
During the night, a wind shift of 180 degrees meant we would now have the kitchen area facing the wind. With a damaged zipper which could split under pressure this would have been a worry if we were not sheltered by the tall eucalypts in ahead of us.
It was a cold morning and destined to be a cool day and given the amount of work to be completed in the school box, the morning was spent following these endeavours. It was obvious all of us - with the exception of Sam - were sick of this part of the trip and tempers flared before a lunch of biscuits, cabanossi and cheese. Diversionary tactics were called for, so we set off for a drive to the north and exploration of some of the other sights available.
Leaving the bitumen at the Wilpena turn off, we took the Blinmen Rd and were soon turning into a parking area to view the Cazeneux Tree. A large Sugar Gum, it was photographed bg Harold Cazeneux in 1937 and he entered this and some script into several international photographic exhibitions under the title "Spirit of Endurance". His subsequent placings in these competitions gave the area a little fame. However, it was his ultimately more famous grandson, Dick Smith, who really put the tree on the map, by placing a plaque adjacent to it, in memory of his grandfather.
A short distance away - perhaps 300 metres - we spied a ruin we had not seen on any of the maps of the area. Walking to it, we discovered an old tree house, with the hallmark planks of 4x1 nailed to the tree trunk as a ladder. The ruin itself was in remarkable condition, with the cement rendered walls still intact and the shingled roof looking only ten years old ! The outside barn was wooden vertical planks butted together and a galvanised tin roof. However, appearances can be deceiving and internal investigation of this "abandoned" house showed it to be a front. There was no internal structure and the walls were of modern internal wall construction, meshed with aluminium and cement rendered only. Afalse chimney climbed through the shingles and the window and door lintels were nailed into place over 2x1 frames. There was no doubt this was a clever reconstruction for an outdoor film set and we left it, intrigued but with a feeling of being "ripped off".
The road north branched about ten kilometres further on but we continued on the main route. Our
destination was the ruins at Appealina.
This wind swept rolling plain, lying north east of the centre of the Pound, has a small creek flowing slowly through it. Along this creek, near an exposed low cliff face of slate, settlers had come in 1851 to make a go of the land. Extracting the slate by hand and simple tools, they used it as the basic construction material for their dwellings. The flat pieces were placed together, without mortar, to form the walls and chimneys of the one and two room buildings. Door and window lintels had beams of locally cut wood placed over them and the most advanced designs had comer shelves placed diagonally across the adjacent walls at a height beyond the reach of children.
Many of the structures were so simple in design, that only low walls remained, but a few had stood the ravages of time well enough to have all of the basic structure still in place. Roofs have disappeared but the stone walls and chimneys are intact. The best of the buildings was past the quarry and in the opposite direction to the signs supplied by the National Park Service. We wondered if tliis was to keep itfrom the type of visitor who would not care how much damage they did whilst carrying out their inspection.
The wind was fierce at this point and blew its coldness straight into every part of our bodies and it was all we could do to prevent ourselves from running back to the car.
Continuing on, we circuited through Opparpartina and began travelling south again, until we eventually returned the way we had come and arrived back at camp. On the way, we watched two euros having a set to on one of the steep, surrounding hills.
The skies had cleared and the wind had dropped and you didn't have to be too smart to realise we were in for a cold night! The clarity of my thinking about the weather was matched by the clarity of the skies and by 11:00 pm a thin veneer of ice was forming on the windscreen of the car.
It was a cold morning and destined to be a cool day and given the amount of work to be completed in the school box, the morning was spent following these endeavours. It was obvious all of us - with the exception of Sam - were sick of this part of the trip and tempers flared before a lunch of biscuits, cabanossi and cheese. Diversionary tactics were called for, so we set off for a drive to the north and exploration of some of the other sights available.
Leaving the bitumen at the Wilpena turn off, we took the Blinmen Rd and were soon turning into a parking area to view the Cazeneux Tree. A large Sugar Gum, it was photographed bg Harold Cazeneux in 1937 and he entered this and some script into several international photographic exhibitions under the title "Spirit of Endurance". His subsequent placings in these competitions gave the area a little fame. However, it was his ultimately more famous grandson, Dick Smith, who really put the tree on the map, by placing a plaque adjacent to it, in memory of his grandfather.
A short distance away - perhaps 300 metres - we spied a ruin we had not seen on any of the maps of the area. Walking to it, we discovered an old tree house, with the hallmark planks of 4x1 nailed to the tree trunk as a ladder. The ruin itself was in remarkable condition, with the cement rendered walls still intact and the shingled roof looking only ten years old ! The outside barn was wooden vertical planks butted together and a galvanised tin roof. However, appearances can be deceiving and internal investigation of this "abandoned" house showed it to be a front. There was no internal structure and the walls were of modern internal wall construction, meshed with aluminium and cement rendered only. Afalse chimney climbed through the shingles and the window and door lintels were nailed into place over 2x1 frames. There was no doubt this was a clever reconstruction for an outdoor film set and we left it, intrigued but with a feeling of being "ripped off".
The road north branched about ten kilometres further on but we continued on the main route. Our
destination was the ruins at Appealina.
This wind swept rolling plain, lying north east of the centre of the Pound, has a small creek flowing slowly through it. Along this creek, near an exposed low cliff face of slate, settlers had come in 1851 to make a go of the land. Extracting the slate by hand and simple tools, they used it as the basic construction material for their dwellings. The flat pieces were placed together, without mortar, to form the walls and chimneys of the one and two room buildings. Door and window lintels had beams of locally cut wood placed over them and the most advanced designs had comer shelves placed diagonally across the adjacent walls at a height beyond the reach of children.
Many of the structures were so simple in design, that only low walls remained, but a few had stood the ravages of time well enough to have all of the basic structure still in place. Roofs have disappeared but the stone walls and chimneys are intact. The best of the buildings was past the quarry and in the opposite direction to the signs supplied by the National Park Service. We wondered if tliis was to keep itfrom the type of visitor who would not care how much damage they did whilst carrying out their inspection.
The wind was fierce at this point and blew its coldness straight into every part of our bodies and it was all we could do to prevent ourselves from running back to the car.
Continuing on, we circuited through Opparpartina and began travelling south again, until we eventually returned the way we had come and arrived back at camp. On the way, we watched two euros having a set to on one of the steep, surrounding hills.
The skies had cleared and the wind had dropped and you didn't have to be too smart to realise we were in for a cold night! The clarity of my thinking about the weather was matched by the clarity of the skies and by 11:00 pm a thin veneer of ice was forming on the windscreen of the car.
Saturday, 2 September 1995
Wilpena Pound
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| Frozen tea towels |
By 9:00 am, the sun was beginning to do its work and we were on the track into the Pound. The first three kilometres of the track is actually a gravel road leading to a parking area before the walking track proper commences. However, I misread the map and we walked in! From the parking area the walk into Wilpena Pound is a well developed track which shows obvious signs of being remade in recent times and at quite a deal of expense. Purple gravel chips are spread to make footing very secure and the best track bridge I have encountered, takes walkers through a narrow section where the rock walls are quite steep. This opens out to a major junction in the tracks at the very start of the Pound itself.
At the junction is the two room sandstone ruin which was formerly the home of the Hills family in the early years of this century. The floor boards are the worse for wear, but this is not a safety factor as walkers cannot go in. Wire gates prohibit entry and a glance in through the openings that had been windows, showed why. Graffiti dating back to the 1930's shows the evidence of those who have felt the need to mark their passage past this spot.
Above this building, a steep track leads to the Wangarra Lookout. Again, the track has been remade and was in excellent condition. A lower lookout provides reasonable views for those unable to go further, but the highest point of the track provides superb views of Wilpena Pound and the ranges to both west and east. The upper lookout is perched about two thirds of the way to the summit of one particular point of the eroded syncline which makes up the Wall of the Pound and as we puffed our way to aerobic recovery, we took in the unusual topographic formation. Resembling an elongated saucer, the walls appeared to radiate from beneath the centre of a flat plain, rising at the edges at an angle of thirty degrees and therefore offering a border to what could have been one of Tolkien's strange lands.
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| Wilpena Pound |
The geological and cultural explanations of how the Pound formed were both on display, as well as the history of white exploration of the area.
Descending, we encouraged those on the ascent to continue, using the time honoured phrases one delivers in such circumstances - "not far now", "you're nearly there", "the view makes it all worthwhile" - in the full knowledge we had completed our pujjing and their's was not yet at its zenith.
We ventured out onto the floor of the Pound, which continued to look as though it only lacked red and greenflags. The trees and grass were unmistakably like a golf course. Rockier under foot than it had looked from above, it was still easy walking for legs as experienced as ours and we made our way to the opposite side of the Pound in time for lunch.
Strong sunshine and good tucker from our packs combined to send us into various states of repose and it was sluggishly that we reorganised for the return trip across the wide, tree covered expanse.
We wandered back, observing the wallabies and euros which occasionally glanced up from their afternoon dozing to inspect us in return. Rabbits hopped and darted under the cover of the shade of the tall eucalypts and flocks of Galahs, Corellas and White Collared Parrots flashed in and out of view.
Chris and I walked ahead of the rest and hiked back the full distance to camp, retrieving the car so the
others could avoid the full distance, which was, at its end, 17 kms. Their 14 kms was still a fair walk for the day!
The remainder of the afternoon was spent reading and playing games until dinner was ready. The cold climate was having an affect on thinking. We had all begun to feel the pinch and were beginning to think seriously of home. Whilst we were all enjoying the holiday, the thought of a warm bed and
conveniences was starting to play on our collective and individual minds. In consideration of this, we had a family conference about the pros and cons and I was commissioned to write a new end to our trip: one which would bring us home a week to ten days earlier, at the start of the NSW school holidays.
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| TODAY'S PHOTOS |
The evening air soon had us inside and into our layers of clothing.
Friday, 1 September 1995
Port Augusta to Flinders Ranges NP
Flinders Ranges NP - Quorn, Hawker, Wilpena (Highway 47) 150 kms
Experts at the procedure, we took only the required minimum time to be on the road and with gas bottles filled and fuel tank similarly supplied, we were heading north into the Flinders Ranges.
We were immediately struck by the differences in the scenery from that to which we had become
accustomed. It was differences such as the colours and the topography which first struck the eye. Where as the previous two months had been dominated by orange, red and yellow, shades of green now filled the visual light spectrum. The never ending boredom of flatness was replaced with hills, gullies and all manner of bumps and hollows. Water, power lines, fences and houses were other changes our visual perceptions were adapting to.
The road wound through the early hills of the Central Flinders Ranges and soon had us slowing for the residential area of Quom. This pretty little village is probably best known for the Pitchi Rttchi Railway but there appeared to be other things worth stopping for. The buildings in the centre of the village were lovingly restored and many were made from large sandstone blocks, reminiscent of the fine buildings we had seen in Bendigo on our trip to Victoria in Dec 941 Jan 95. Of course, these public buildings were on a smaller scale, but, for their size,
Further north we reached the "gateway to tlie Flinders Ranges", Hawker. It is remarkable how many towns claim entry status. During our trip, we were often confronted with such heralds and many were amusing claims to fame. In this case, we found an impressive small village which obviously has a lot of pride and an active business and tourist association. In the centre of the village, an excellent stopping place for travellers is provided. Stopping bays for caravans and trailers, modern ultra-clean toilets and spacious bench picnic tables undercover were setup among bark covered gardens, across the road from a mixed business. Adorning the walls of the shelters were display boards with extensive information about the local area, including accommodation, detailed maps, tourist activities and services. It was the best facility of its type we had encountered in 10 000 kms and put all of the large towns and cities we had visited to shame in catering for travellers.
After lunch, we traversed the final fifty or so kilometres to Wilpena Pound. This leg of the journey was through more lush, green valleys with the remains of homesteads dotted through them. These sandstone relics are a feature of the area and are a treat unto themselves, but one we intended to explore during our time at Wilpena Pound. The mountain formations became more imposing as you approached them towering over us as we drove the final 4 kms into the gap providing access to the formation which is the Pound.
Stopping at the Ranger Station, we made the difficult decision to remain in this lower section of the park, as the roads into Aroona Ruins did not sound the best and the day was getting on toward its later stages.
We set up camp among some small pines - with just enough room to squeeze the large tent in - and settled in. It soon became apparent the temperatures we had acclimatised to in the Centre and further north, were long behind us and track suits and beanies came out from the bottom of ports. The evening chill gave way to the sort of bone numbing cold we had experienced on many of our previous camping trips. However, it was unpleasant to again coat the body with three or four layers of clothes after so many nights of T shirts and undies. The shivering, blue skinned alternative was not worth considering.
Experts at the procedure, we took only the required minimum time to be on the road and with gas bottles filled and fuel tank similarly supplied, we were heading north into the Flinders Ranges.
We were immediately struck by the differences in the scenery from that to which we had become
accustomed. It was differences such as the colours and the topography which first struck the eye. Where as the previous two months had been dominated by orange, red and yellow, shades of green now filled the visual light spectrum. The never ending boredom of flatness was replaced with hills, gullies and all manner of bumps and hollows. Water, power lines, fences and houses were other changes our visual perceptions were adapting to.
The road wound through the early hills of the Central Flinders Ranges and soon had us slowing for the residential area of Quom. This pretty little village is probably best known for the Pitchi Rttchi Railway but there appeared to be other things worth stopping for. The buildings in the centre of the village were lovingly restored and many were made from large sandstone blocks, reminiscent of the fine buildings we had seen in Bendigo on our trip to Victoria in Dec 941 Jan 95. Of course, these public buildings were on a smaller scale, but, for their size,
Further north we reached the "gateway to tlie Flinders Ranges", Hawker. It is remarkable how many towns claim entry status. During our trip, we were often confronted with such heralds and many were amusing claims to fame. In this case, we found an impressive small village which obviously has a lot of pride and an active business and tourist association. In the centre of the village, an excellent stopping place for travellers is provided. Stopping bays for caravans and trailers, modern ultra-clean toilets and spacious bench picnic tables undercover were setup among bark covered gardens, across the road from a mixed business. Adorning the walls of the shelters were display boards with extensive information about the local area, including accommodation, detailed maps, tourist activities and services. It was the best facility of its type we had encountered in 10 000 kms and put all of the large towns and cities we had visited to shame in catering for travellers.
After lunch, we traversed the final fifty or so kilometres to Wilpena Pound. This leg of the journey was through more lush, green valleys with the remains of homesteads dotted through them. These sandstone relics are a feature of the area and are a treat unto themselves, but one we intended to explore during our time at Wilpena Pound. The mountain formations became more imposing as you approached them towering over us as we drove the final 4 kms into the gap providing access to the formation which is the Pound.
Stopping at the Ranger Station, we made the difficult decision to remain in this lower section of the park, as the roads into Aroona Ruins did not sound the best and the day was getting on toward its later stages.
We set up camp among some small pines - with just enough room to squeeze the large tent in - and settled in. It soon became apparent the temperatures we had acclimatised to in the Centre and further north, were long behind us and track suits and beanies came out from the bottom of ports. The evening chill gave way to the sort of bone numbing cold we had experienced on many of our previous camping trips. However, it was unpleasant to again coat the body with three or four layers of clothes after so many nights of T shirts and undies. The shivering, blue skinned alternative was not worth considering.
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