Aus, family, national park, roadtrip, travel

Top End by campervan

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Into the Northern Territory, where the roads deteriorated markedly but perversely the speed limit went from 110 to 130 km/hr – not that the camper was worth driving at those speeds, 100 was plenty. The landscape of vast flat plains, occasionally interspersed with mesas, covered in low-density, low-height forests and scrub continued. We regularly saw controlled burns keeping the undergrowth in check, only once having the highway completely engulfed in smoke.

Posted observation points were welcome, they helped to break the driving. This one just short of Victoria River had a bonus walk up a hill in the sweltering heat.

Trees and rocks, with a bonus river.

Down to the roadhouse, with attached campground, the only facilities for many miles.

Said roadhouse, without all the vehicles belching diesel. Saw a bunch of big motorsport team trucks rolling through, a change from the preponderance of mining and cattle road trains. Found later the Supercar roadshow was moving from Perth to Darwin.

After not having seen a supermarket all week, a restock in Katherine was needed before heading to Nitmulik National Park for a couple of nights. The Three Gorge boat tour gave us the opportunity to sit, occasionally walk to another boat and learn about the gorge from a local. Towering cliffs and how the volume of water in the wet season has shaped the landscape were impressive.

This may be recognised from some films, but not by me.

Somewhat inexplicably to me, we had an hour to swim at Lily Ponds under a tall thread of a waterfall. About a third of the group got in the water, most else sat in the shade.

I found a marked track that involved plenty of rock-hopping and steep scrambling to the top of the waterfall. Much better view and more interesting up there.

The creek approaching the cliff.

Spot the tour group.

Further up the gorge, past where boats can reach – there are a lot of rocks around these parts.

On the return, the longer walk (not long) between boats and impassable rocks.

First crocodile in the wild for the trip.

Our guide pointed out a viewing platform up high as we neared the end of our boat trip, suggesting it was a good place to see the sunset. As it was the first time I’d seen significant clouds in the sky since our layover in Melbourne, I was hopeful it would be worth the walk and steep staircases. It was.

But first, different rocks! Curious conglomerations.

The start of the Kakadu Highway held the most engaging driving of the trip – especially in a seven metre long, three metre high van. Alas that didn’t last long, but probably good for Mum’s comfort and getting to Jabiru campground before dark. I was a bit under the weather for our two days there, unfortunately coinciding with the hottest weather of the trip – alarmingly close to forty degrees Celsius.

Better than your average water tower.

A little boat tour up the East Alligator River (no gators in Australia, only crocs – the river mistakenly named) was slightly cooler than staying on land. I found the local guide interesting, plenty told of how the local flora and fauna form part of their life. Not a lot of wildlife to be seen in the heat of the afternoon; more time in Kakadu and even getting into the vast, sparsely populated Arnhem Land would be cool.

Spot the fictional characters – Homer, E.T., Robocop…

Although not that far back to Darwin and campervan return, certainly less distance than we had generally been driving, we broke it up choosing to stay in the middle of nowhere. Bark Hut Inn had a great campground, adjoined to a roadhouse, built in an area that once was predominantly buffalo and croc hunting (the old modified Landcruisers with a lot of external steelwork looked plain mad). Disappointed by the lack of wildlife on the trip thus far, we booked one last boat tour on the nearby Corroberee Lagoon – thinking we had enough time to pack, clean the camper and drive to Darwin the following day.

It turned out to go swimmingly (except no-one literally went swimming for obvious reasons). An exceptional tour with a very knowledgeable guide who was only too happy to answer questions, show us what we wanted to see and keep us both amused and informed. Helped that we saw plenty too – here’s a little of it:

On that high, the campervan was returned on time leaving us a day and a bit to have a look around Darwin. With the Supercars in town for the weekend, the excellent night market at Mindil Beach was packed – but the city seemed deserted the following day. Perhaps it’s always like that, but it seemed an odd place. Give me the wilderness instead.

Aus, family, roadtrip, travel

Kimberley by campervan

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Somewhere along the way I said I’d drive Mum on a campervan trip across the NW of Australia. Suddenly it was thirty-odd degrees hotter than is normal at home this time of year and we were checking out Broome – an interesting little town with a history of pearl harvesting by many ethnicities and being bombed in the Second World War; now its biggest asset seems to be a busy fly-in, fly-out airport for WA’s mining industry.

We had some time before picking up the van, so wandered in the heat.

Plenty of the old corrugated buildings survive.

One of the many boab trees (related to the African baobab) we’d see on the trip.

Originally a telegraph station when the subsea cables were the quickest form of comms with the outside world – Timor is really close.

A few of the scores of crabs that were fascinating to watch.
Parking the camper (a very similar van to the ambulances I’m used to driving, just a fair bit longer) first-up in a crowded Cable Beach carpark conquered, we were on time for the camel ride that Mum wanted to do. No racing, all rather sedate – a pleasant hour not having to walk in the heat. Unsure what the camel thought, but I expect it’s better acclimatised than southern New Zealanders.

First night and campground successfully negotiated, the first of many interesting rocks on the trip were visited – with some fun scrambling too.

Finally hitting the highway, it was a few hours north to Derby – even hotter, most notable to me for having up to thirteen metre tides.

Tidal plain, would have liked to see the sea rapidly advance across it.

One of the wider-trunked boabs we saw.

Apparently the largest cattle trough in the world, guess there’s got to be one. From the days of driving stock ultra long distances without trucks.
Continuing east, there were a few small towns every so often (hundred-odd kilometres apart) – maybe because it was a Sunday, but they were grim. Service stations so barricaded I didn’t think they were open, usually they were – just as well.
I much preferred the next campground, Mimbi, to the overly large and full ones on the coast – no power, remote and quiet.

Not at all packed in like sardines.

Also, there were rocks and hills to explore.

Triodia grass – annoyingly pointy.
We’d slowed our journey east a bit so as to catch a tour through the Mimbi Caves, led by the local people. It was wonderfully low-key and gave plenty of opportunity to hang at the back of the large group to try and get some peace to gaze at the intriguing formations.

More rocks – walking to the caves.

Back at the campground, there was enough time to go for a more challenging scramble through the triodia and up the rocks to see what sunset would serve up.

Slightly different rocks. And redder rocks.

Token van photo as Mum was off looking for giant ant hills.
We were really hoping to see the bizarre rock formations of the Bungle Bungles (large, striped beehive shapes), but found at the campground that the permit for this season’s 4WD tours still hadn’t been granted – and we certainly couldn’t take the van on fifty kilometres of rough 4WD track. Disappointing – but the campground, with buffet barbecue, was excellent; I also enjoyed a couple of evening walks lit by the full moon.

Slight detour out to Wyndham and another huge tidal plain.

Boab trees and road trains – pleased to get a photo, while stopped, of some of the constant driving-sights.

I think this was the only Big Thing we saw on the trip, which seems an unusually low tally for an Australian road trip.

But the boabs were far more impressive than Big Things. This one at the campground, carbon dated to about 2000 years old, is apparently still young!
Mirima National Park, small and right on the edge of Kununurra, was billed as a mini-Bungle Bungles – so we had to have a look. Plenty more fascinating rocks, but I’m not sure that billing is at all accurate. Good fun on short walks all the same.

Mum was keen to see some unique local zebra rocks – so we visited a local stoneworker. More cool rocks! Plus some impressively heavy workshop equipment for drilling and cutting all sorts of rock.

Not seeing the Bungle Bungles was playing on my mind, especially with a better than even chance we wouldn’t be back to see them another time. While I’d have much preferred to be able to walk around and inspect them, we were fortunate that there were two seats left on a scenic flight the following day. Apologies for the slightly foggy photos through a small plane window – they’ll have to do their own talking though.

I’m still a bit surprised by just how much vegetation, and how green it was, that we saw on the whole trip – dry season it may have been, but I guess it was close to the start.

We certainly saw plenty during our ten days in WA; onto Northern Territory, all new to me.

family, NZ

Stewart Island family trip

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After years of talking about it, a family trip was finally organised to Stewart Island – thanks to Adele for organising it, and Neil & Jill for the kind use of a family home. Adele and James were the only ones who’d been before; anticipation was high for all.

A calm evening ferry ride over, which was just as well as there was still some seasickness.

We got to the house in the dark, but I couldn’t resist traipsing around the surrounding bush to explore a bit – and see if I could spot a kiwi.

Waking up overlooking Halfmoon Bay.

Jill had told me of a good running loop from the house, predominantly in native forest and along the coast for large parts. I set out to see what I’d find.

Promptly distracted from the route by roads and tracks leading in other directions.

Found myself on Ringaringa Point, looking over Paterson Inlet to Ulva Island.

The trail on the map no longer exists, so I retraced my route to the intended loop. A bit lumpy along the coastal bush section, but I was in no hurry.

Popping back over to Halfmoon Bay and town, it was a short road section back to the house.

Who should I find but James processing his morning’s catch. It became a daily catch, with rod and speargun; we ate a lot of seafood that week and never tired of it!

Back to our accommodation nestled in the bush on right.

Waiting for the water taxi to Ulva Island on Golden Bay.

Thankfully this boat ride was far more enjoyable and exciting for my nephews!

A predator-free island, Ulva is a sanctuary for many native birds. There’s a couple of hours worth of walking tracks and nice beaches to wander while looking for birds.

The robins are many, and not at all shy. Far easier to photograph too!

This was one of the busier beaches on the island.

The following day, the grandparents were given some respite while the rest of us went for an overnight walk and beach camp on the start of the Rakiura Track.

The northern trailhead is at Lee Bay.

Coastal forest for the four kilometres that we walked to Maori Beach.

Plenty to amuse us all at the beach, old sawmilling relics, roasting marshmallows and making smores on an open fire, and general camping life. Still no kiwis spotted, although we certainly heard a loud one nearby in the middle of the night.

Ready to start the return.

Peters Point.

Too cute.

Back to my now favourite cabbage tree.

Sunday brought the first rain of the trip – good going considering Stewart Island’s reputation. But it was bright enough to set off on a walk to Horseshoe Point. Squally showers were pleasant, cooling me a little as I’d overdressed. More beaches and bays to explore as the track wound its way through mostly native forest.

Eventually arriving at Horseshoe Point, looking towards Horseshoe Bay.

After a final pub dinner (more seafood, yum) our short stay was all but over. Just an early morning rainy bundle into the island’s taxi for James and me to take all the luggage downtown – we got a far choppier ferry ride back to the mainland while the rest went on the wee plane.

The rain stopped after we’d done all the baggage moving. Lights back at the house as the rest got ready for the plane, while we waited for the ferry.

An excellent family holiday at a leisurely pace in a wonderful little spot of the country – I hope a return visit takes far less time than the first.

bikepacking, bikes, GPS, NZ

Old Woman Range

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Far too long since I’d been bikepacking on my actual bikepacking bike, the lure of finally exploring the Old Woman Range in good autumn conditions did the trick – having biked past, or around it, a number of times my curiosity had long since been piqued. So we downed garage-building tools a day early and I headed to Clyde partially packed for a night in the hills.

A leisurely start across the fields, Leaning Rock in the distance.

We found the calm morning changed to a noticeable headwind as the breeze funnelled down the gorge on the Lake Dunstan Cycle Trail. Concern that the rental-bike traffic would be overwhelming was unfounded – except at the narrowest part of the trail (of course!).

A lovely morning’s riding, even if my legs aren’t used to a loaded bike anymore. Wasn’t long before future plans were switching to this bike, away from the faster, lighter gravel bike.

(Rachel’s photo)

Autumnal; out of the gorge and the wind all but gone.

After lunch in Bannockburn we headed for the Nevis Rd, somewhat overwhelmed by a long convoy of vehicles heading that way. What was going on out here? Turning onto the gravel we spied a solitary classic beribboned Rolls Royce, but unattended. Curious.

The Shepherds Creek valley and grovel out of it were baking with no breeze and a thirty degree afternoon. I stopped at a thread of a water race to cool off. A few more pick-ups passed us heading up, and then the motos started coming down. Identical adventure bikes, individually numbered into the 100s, they just kept rolling down – we never discovered what big organised ride they were on.

(Rachel’s photo)

With the grade averaging close to ten percent, I was soon off and pushing at anything over that – which was familiar from the last, more-heavily loaded, trip up here. As we climbed there was still no wind, but the air temperature cooled a bit.

The reason for all the traffic became clear as we approached the summit – suddenly feeling rather underdressed amongst a hundred-odd wedding guests enjoying the views and a few drinks to celebrate. Don’t think they could have got a better day for it!

Extraordinary.

Finally got to see Mt Cook from up here.

With two options to get from the road down to actual Duffers Saddle, we chose the one that took us over the summit of the road to pose with the incorrect Duffers Saddle sign.

(Rachel’s photo)

Quite a drop from the road to the saddle and what looked to be a big push to get on the Old Woman Range.

Some of it I could ride. (Rachel’s photo)

Well pleased with the clear views back to the ranges around home, and that I can now name them all and some of the peaks.

Approaching five o’clock, with only sixty kilometres but over two thousands metres of climbing, I was pretty toasted. Another two-plus hours to get Boundary Hut didn’t sound fun or sensible to me – not when Old Woman Hut was so close and it was new to me.

An easy decision to turn-off and roll down to the hut. A couple of young fellas were already there, having come up on motorbikes – but they clearly didn’t like us, so left after an hour or so. We settled in to a very comfortable hut – it’s recently been relined inside with ply and the sleeping platforms are also new. A short walk up from the hut gives good views of the Nevis Valley, and Mt Cook again.

(Rachel’s photo)

(Rachel’s photo)

After a fairly decent sleep, it was another slow start – that worked well as the hundred-odd motorbikes from yesterday reappeared and were initially using the same route we were. Waiting them out, we only got passed by nine or ten after rejoining the route along Old Woman Range. Having done most of the climbing the day before, it was far easier going – not as steep and not nearly as much of it. We snaked up and down for a few hours glad there was little wind and the forecast weather deterioration was staying away. I was surprised by the number of tarns.

Generally a good riding surface; there was the odd bog from 4WDs to avoid.

Mostly we enjoyed the wide open expanses at such altitude.

Heading for the little bump on the right horizon.

A couple of hours in we passed the turn-off to Boundary Hut – I was particularly pleased to have not pushed that far on Day One. Curiosity was not so strong to want to drop the best part of a hundred metres to see what we’d missed. We joined the Old Man Range at Hyde Rock – which was not at all notable on approach from the tops.

Far more prominent from the valley – of which it gave expansive views.

The rain looked closer out west, so north to the Obelisk we went. Back on a route I’d done before, the track and surroundings were familiar but were completely different without the gale wind blowing riders into fences or turning loaded bikes into kites. I think about my previous visit far too often.

At least I got a few photos this time – this the climb that needed the most effort that day.

The transmitter was visible far back, but only got bigger annoyingly slowly.

Made it and managed not to get clean blown over this time. (Rachel’s photo)

I was particularly looking forward to the Omeo Gully descent. The downhill, dropping 1500 m did not disappoint in any way. It was rough, rocky and loose in parts – as well as steep as I’d want to ride on a loaded bike, encroached by giant tussocks and, when waiting, it gave great views. An absolute blast – loved it. Alas, I was having too much fun to get pictures of the best parts.

Still on the ridge, approaching the turn-off right. Track already rougher than the transmitter service road we’d just been on.

(Rachel’s photo)

(Rachel’s photo)

The lower reaches mellowed out through grazed hillside.

What a great way to get back into bikepacking, finally got up there and motivation is back for more trips. Thanks to Rachel for the idea, impetus and, as always, being a great adventure buddy. Thanks to Mark, Paula and Eilish for the accommodation, untold cups of tea and terrific post-ride cookies that went a long way to replacing any lost calories.

Biking to go places, going places to bike.