The worst of the rain had passed by this morning, hopefully east to the apparently drought stricken Western Australian wheat belt, or even all the way to western Victoria. It seems that my advice about taking a gun to the starving cattle was tardy; many farmers had been attending to matters in such desperate manner well before my suggestion.
I checked the weather forecast on-line and took a punt by doing a load of washing, before we headed off for our day’s outing, leaving it all hanging like dead rabbits on the line.
We headed back to Donnelly River Mill Town where we stopped to reacquaint ourselves with the wandering wildlife; the roos and the emus who all seemed happy to see us until they realised we had not come bearing gifts. There we struck up conversation with a couple who had moved down from Perth to Bridgetown on retirement and were still ecstatic about their decision, now some years past. Today they had their two granddaughters with them, the girls taking great delight in the free petting opportunity. We thought of our own little ones, particularly of those who live in West Auckland and frequent the zoo there. They would have loved this.
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| On the Bibbulmun again |
We parked up behind the cottages at the edge of the forest and set off to sample yet another section of the Bibbelmun Trail, south from Donnelly River for an hour and a half. The track took us through stands of karri and jarrah forest on the slopes south of the village then down through relatively recently burned areas where the tall giants of the forest bear their singed trunks like war weary soldiers and fresh green regrowth sprouts defiantly from the forest floor. We descended gently down to the Manjimup Brook, and then walked for some distance westward along the river valley, never actually seeing the river, only the swampy surrounds. We heard the tweets, chirps and cries of birds high in the forest canopy but saw few of them close up, although I can report with great delight that we did spot a scarlet robin.
After some difficulty, we did find a dry clean stump to sit and eat our lunch, and soon heard the natter of human voices drawing near. The source was a group of four walkers, two of whom were returning from Albany having already done the southbound trail. They had been on the road for 103 days, and expected to be nearly another thirty before reaching Perth again. They were about our age, still bright and fit looking, although the couple who had walked in to meet them on this one stage, were shocked at how much weight the marathon walkers had lost.
They were only an hour from Donnelly River Mill Town where they were to enjoy the luxury of a night at one of the lodges and a wonderful turkey roast dinner. I am sure they would also enjoy a long soak in a hot bath and a massage if it were on offer. We were in awe of them and their accomplishment, even thus far. When they reach home they will have walked about 2,000 kilometres. Now that will be something to boast about to their grandchildren!
We returned to the landcruiser after three hours, a poor effort compared to that of our recent acquaintances, but quite enough for me. We paused to enjoy a cup of thermos coffee before heading back to camp, arriving just before the sky began to drizzle. I managed to finish drying the washing in the camp’s clothes dryer, a first for a very long time.
Hopefully the weather will be no worse tomorrow; we do want to take
advantage of the walks hereabout and have only one more day here to do so.
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