Stirlings to Katanning

Driving along the Salt River Road this morning, the biggest excitement was seeing a big mob of emus: a mother and about a dozen chicks. As soon as I stopped the car, they turned tail and ran. They were too quick for me. This is a very quiet road with hardly any traffic, so they were not used to being disturbed.

There were more wildflowers to photograph, including this yellow Chittick, a completely different colour to those we saw in Cape Le Grand:

I needed my expert H to help identify the rest, but I’m on my own now:

The long straight road to Cranbrook went though flat fields of recently harvested wheat,  with pale golden stubble glowing across the landscape. Flocks of sheep had been let loose in some to feed on what was left.

I arrived at Katanning just before lunchtime. It was a relief to make use of their super fast wifi to update my blog.

.... later:

I now have a room looking out onto the street and the railway line. On a miserable wet Sunday evening, there is nothing much doing in Katanning: just one goods train came through from Albany, covered in graffiti. My room is slightly larger, but not so quiet. There are noises of people talking and laughing, but not from next door. It seems to come along the machinery, the original mill workings in the ceiling:

The restoration of the mill is a great selling point, but impractical  in some respects. A few mod cons are appreciated, such as the availability of in-house movies. Instead of a siesta, I watched The Gentleman a clever Guy Ritchie production. There is a small “Guest Valet”, a communal kitchen area on each floor, where boiling water comes from a tap for tea and coffee making. Also included in the Valet is a collection of Folio Society books, exclusive and expensive, but surely this could have been achieved with a smaller price tag. However, this place makes a welcoming half way stopover for those who don’t want to drive back to Perth in one day.

Stirling Ranges

There was no TV in the Stirling Range Retreat,  but ample entertainment was provided watching people arrive and set up their camp alongside the fence line, just opposite my cabin. In particular, a couple in a Toyota 4WD had a magnificent awning stretching out from the side of their vehicle. They tried valiantly to fix canvas side walls to it and had even brought a stepladder to assist with this. They were struggling for ages. At 6.45 pm, night was falling, a cold wind was blowing and rain was threatening. Was this the first night out with their rig? I was grateful for my cosy little cabin, I can tell you! Meanwhile, other younger couples had put up their tiny tents and swags in no time, and had taken themselves off to the Campers’ Kitchen to cook their dinner. I dined on a curried beef pie, purchased earlier in Ravensthorpe and warmed up in the microwave, with a tin of sweet corn and two glasses of red wine! No hassle after a 400 km drive. I was in bed by 8.00 pm and lay awake listening to a tremendously heavy shower of rain that must have been bad news for all those under canvas.

My little cabin was ideal!

Bluff Knoll

I was up at 5.00 am and off by 6.00 to climb the mountain (or half of it, anyway!)  I first climbed it in 1990 when I had just arrived in Australia, and again about 15 years later with the Nats. No need to kill myself doing it a third time! It is 1095 m high (656 m from the car park). When I left base camp it was only 11 degrees, and reputed to be 7 degrees at the summit. As I set off climbing, a young couple was coming down. They said they had just missed the sunrise. 

I sat down on a rock to eat a banana and was surprised to see that I suddenly had phone reception. There had been none down below at the camping site and no wi fi either. It was very disconcerting to be cut off. (“You only need Telstra when you need it.”) No checking the temperature or reading blogs when you wake up!

I sent a message to my nearest and dearest and then turned back, looking forward to a second breakfast and another hour in bed, resting my legs. Coming down is always the hardest on the knees. My hip replacement protested too. There are many steps to negotiate; but I lived to tell the tale!

“Drumsticks” are prolific on the lower slopes.

This young man was carrying an enormous load of what looked like military gear. He said he was in training.

There were more wildflowers than I expected, so late in the season.

Artwork depicting the mega diversity in the area.

Me and the rock!

This camping site has the added attraction of a swimming pool; the afternoon was warm enough for a quick dip, but the water was extremely salty: it was like floating in the Dead Sea.

Gnocchi in mushroom sauce for dinner, with a little beetroot relish  and a bottle of Margaret River Cleanskin.

My cabin (number 33) had a window looking out towards Mt Trio and a magnificent sunset. Everyone emerged with their cameras to get the best shot, rather like being at Cable Beach in Broome. The young man in the tiny green tent nearest to me started flying a drone, so I asked him if he could let me have some of his shots. He gave them to me via Air Drop and they were brilliant. He flies helicopters so he knows what he is doing.

Sunset over Mt Trio.

Drone shot showing my cabin with Bluff Knoll in the background.

For more, see this Instagram account: @johnjphillips82

John also made a video using some of the other footage he shot over the weekend which you might enjoy: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-doHyVnWtyE

Thanks, John!

Esperance to The Stirlings

First, a few pics from my last night in Esperance:

View from my balcony towards the sea.

Preparing a stir-fry in the kitchen area upstairs.
The only real problem was an infestation of tiny black ants that came out of the woodwork! They were particularly fond of committing suicide in the kettle.

The trip to the Stirling Range Retreat took forever: the longest leg of this holiday, especially as I took a wrong turn at Ongerup and had to go back. I did manage to see the Malleefowl Centre this time though:

They are inside two large aviaries and are very shy.

She is resting an injured leg.

This is a stuffed one.

The Centre rears chicks and releases them into the wild. They raised 17 last year. Without human intervention only about 2% of hatchlings would survive since the parent birds do nothing to assist them. The eggs are laid in huge mounds where a specific temperature is maintained through solar energy and composting over several months. After that Mum and Dad take no further interest. Nature is strange.

Great Ocean Drive

H left for Perth on the bus this morning (dep. 8.00 am; arr. 6.00 pm - a long day!)  She wanted to get back for her Pilates and Massage. I’m staying one more day in Esperance, trying to fit in a few things I haven’t done yet. After a leisurely breakfast, I set off to do the Great Ocean Drive, which takes in the beaches to the West. First stop was the Rotary Lookout near Dempster Head, which provided a 360 degree view of the surroundings:

Looking West.

I was at this lookout, Twilight Cove, at 10.00 am. A few locals were scanning the ocean. A 4m. Great White Shark had been spotted there at 9.30 and scared the surfers out of the water! No sign of him now.

After a few more beaches, it was time for something different: a drive round the Wind Farm:

Last stop was the Pink Lake, but it is no longer pink:

I did see a very nice Banksia though:

Cape Le Grand NP part 2

We entered the NP and paid our $8 for a Seniors Day Pass. There were signs everywhere that the camping grounds were all fully booked. They are in beautiful locations, but with minimum services. You have to be self sufficient. The first thing we noticed was a hill (Mt Fitzgerald?) with a patch of snow on a south-facing slope. This seemed incredible at the end of November. Many cars were parked at the base and people were attempting to climb the rocky slope.

As we approached Lucky Bay, we suddenly saw the beautiful blue of the sea and the perfectly white sand:

The campground was just below us:

Before we drove any further, we had to investigate the wildflowers all around us:

Top: White Goodenia; Pink Calytrix.

Bottom: Pink Boronia; Adenanthos or Coastal Jug Flower.

(H is the wildflower expert and we spent the evening trying to identify everything we’d seen).

Leschenaultia Tubiflora.


Top: Red Kangaroo Paw; White Leptospermum.

Bottom: Pink Melaleuca?; Woolly Bush.

It felt really warm in the shelter of Lucky Bay. We found some shade to have morning tea before setting off on a walk.

Dead jellyfish.

A group of 6 Indian lads daring each other to get into the freezing cold water.

This “easy walk” of c. 4 kms return was not so easy for me because of constant ascent and descent. My weak hip protested! I had left my stick in the car and I’d left my fly net at home. The flies rule in Cape Le Grand!

Chittick.

Lunch spot with a view.

It was a very worthwhile expedition and we were impressed by the number of beautifully maintained picnic areas around the bay, with shade awnings, toilets and even the odd shower in an area where all the rain water has to be collected. If we were 10 years younger, we could have gone further!