Instalment10 Gibb River Road – Bungle Bungles – Litchfield National Park

And then and then and then and then we headed down the Gibb river road.
A 667 km of rough road, with a reputation for harshness on tyres. We passed one blowout and another car on its roof from just an hour earlier. From our point of view though the road took us through some of the most rugged scenery and linked a number of truly remote and magnificent waterfalls, swimming holes and gorges. On the first morning we came face to face with our first fresh water crocodiles. Of the 2 species these are smaller, less aggressive and unlike the feared “Saltie crocodile” will not hunt you down as food. For all that, I would have been unlikely to get in the water with them.

Windjana gorge was stuffed full of them, idling in the sun and swimming slowly around in the muddy waters. Tunnel Creek was kilometre long cavern with a river running through it, and was quite exiting to walk through with our head torches.

Oh a small point, we had picked up an Adventure tours brochure, the 4x4 tours group that Mari and Sarah had used last year, and were finding it quite handy as a rough itinerary.

Up until now we had worked in a need to know basis, with Siobhan working out where and what we were doing, sometimes only letting me know minutes before we turned up at yet another breath knocked away location or Eagle Comic style adventure. This way I was able to flick through the brochure and for once had some idea what was going on, but of course Siobhan still had a number of tricks under her akubra.
Just as the sun was hanging low we stumbled across Lennard Gorge, about 5 km down a pitching track heading south from the road. After about a 2km walk which for some reason we negotiated in our thongs we were led down into a large crevice, with a thin river thundering through. It must have been quite deep as the water was almost black, and I couldn’t get near touching the bottom.




It was so nice we swam around till it got late and we had to navigate through 2 or 3 river crossings in the dark to get to the Silent Grove campground. This was clearly a popular spot and we had to squeeze the tent in. Bell gorge was just up the road, and I figured we’d have to get up early to avoid the crowds, so at 5.45 we got packed up and slunk away.
Bells gorge was much wider than any we’d seen, and sprinkled with the giant Boab trees. We followed it for about 2km according to the GPS before heading back and swimming under the main water waterfall. Just as we got out the water the first tour groups started turning up so the early morning had really been worth it.

(If you look closely you can see me at the top of these falls)

Adcock Gorge was different again, this swampy creek was covered in lily pads and an enormous monitor was swimming around in it. We then caught site of a turtle about the size of a dinner plate, and although we’d read rumours, if I hadn’t seen it I don’t think I’d have really believed this harsh habitat would be their home.

Galvins Gorge was slightly more hospitable with a nice rope to swing off the side into this oasis surrounded by palm trees and overseen by some sinister looking Aboriginal rock art.

That evening we pulled up into a rest stop on the banks of the Gibb river crossing. By the time I’d come back from a run, 2 caravans had appeared and a fire started. We joined Dan and Liz, farmers from Bunbury, and Ken and Dawn, a couple from the Blue mountains for the traditional Beer, and were generously plied an assortment of cheese and biscuits. We spent a really nice evening yarning around the fire and Liz insisted on feeding us which was just a lovely gesture.

A rough drive the next day bought us across the widest river crossing to date, the Pentecost. Signs on the bank warned of Estuarine (salty) crocodiles and at about 200 metres the far bank seemed a long way off.
We cruised into Wyndham and filled the jerry cans with the cheapest diesel to date, which is a small obsession on this kind of trip. On inspection one side of the bumper had come off and the tyres looked mangled, so some running repairs and we set off for the Bungle Bungles.

We got to the park gate just before dark, but had been warned that the road in was rough so we opted for a nearby rest stop.

Just a word on rest stops, or Lay By. These stops litter the highways and from 3pm onwards turn into little communities of caravans. Generators appear, and tent toilets (thunder boxes) go up, as the amenities may stretch to a long drop toilet but most often there is nothing.
If this happened in the UK, the police would move you on, and the word pikey might spring to mind. Here however you witness car polishing and barbeques, and a friendly hello from your neighbour. In this case Kath Knight complete with silver lame handbag, and her husband with his military spot light torch, just really really nice people.

Squid disaster, the odd smell that we had been ignoring, and pure bloody mindedness from me to admit that the bait I’d bought 7 days ago might be the cause got the better of me. I found the fishing rod, and sure enough the squid had exploded and left a sticky veneer over several items. As I sit here now writing this up 4 days later, having spent 2 mornings disinfecting, cleaning, burning and throwing away, I can still detect eau de squid.
The road into the Bungle Bungles lived up to its reputation and we had a real rollercoaster ride through the creek beds.

We signed in, and dusted off our back packs from what seemed like ages ago, packed 10 litres of water and set off up the Picaninny Creek. It soon became obvious that not many people do this hike and the log book confirmed this when we returned. We wound up the creekbed in shale like conditions, and in the heat of the day this was really quite demanding. The beehives gave way to a 200 metre high gorge with palm trees balanced at improbable locations up the walls.




We eventually figured out that we had got to “base camp” and sure enough another couple’s things were laid out, so we headed up another kilometre and found a little water hole with a beach set into the cliff.

Once it got dark the moon was so bright that it was casting shadows, and the nearby ghost gum made a spectral image amongst the palms and spinifex.
I was overtaken by the moment and proposed to Siobhan, and she said yes.
We headed out early to try and benefit from the cool morning, but after a couple of hours the sun did its job on us.
We squeezed in Echidna Chasm and around the Mini Palms valley before settling down to camp. We cracked a beer and listened to the Melbourne v. Brisbane game, with quarter by quarter results coming from Adelaide as Richmond convincingly cleaned up Port.
It was Siobhan’s turn to drive the rollercoaster ride out and I clung on as she took us through the 10 or so river crossings with a huge grin on her face, and taking it in turns we motored 800km up to Katherine.
All the camp grounds were filled and eventually we found a motel, so celebrating our engagement we drank champagne and phoned the family before collapsing in a heap. We had our first showers in 8 days but this dirt is ground in deep now, and I don’t think we smell too hot.
We headed up to Litchfield a park just south of Darwin and ignoring the news that an 8 year old girl had been taken overnight by a salty we swam in a number of popular water holes. That night we spent sharing a bush camp with 3 motor cyclists from W.A. One was particularly keen on wild life, and was a part time snake catcher. As soon as it got dark he shot off into the bush with his nephew. He’d shown us how to find spiders by shining a torch and spotting their glinting eyes, and spent some time tracking down the hundred that surrounded our tent. They returned an hour later with a pillowcase full of cane toads, which he later drowned after deciding that they would smell too much if thrown on the fire. On their tip we went down to the watering hole that we’d swum in earlier and on shining torches in the water could clearly see 3 pairs of red eyes, i.e. fresh water crocodiles zipping around with incredible agility.

(Look closely and I'm just swimming into frame on the left)

My morning dip was a briefer affair than usual to say the least.
Next up, Darwin.