There is something about Saturdays in July in this part of the world; the mornings are super cold. Today we rose to a temperature of 4 degrees; thank goodness we are in a caravan park on main’s power. The sun was shining and we were buoyed by the promise of good weather for the day.
After calling in to the newsagent where we and the rest of the population were quickly buying up the weekend newspapers, we headed off on the eighty six kilometre Karri Forest Explorer self-guide tourist drive. We headed north for less than ten kilometres to the Big Brook Dam, the first attraction on the route.
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| Big Brook Dam |
The next stop, three kilometres up the road, was the Big Brook Arboretum, not at all as expected. A variety of tree species from within Australia and overseas, eucalyptus, pines, sequoia and Californian Redwoods were planted through the years 1929 to 1936, to study their growth and response to the local soil and climate so their plantation value could be determined and presumably to replace the milled karri. There is a DEC camping ground here and a few picnic tables scattered about, however you get the impression that no one bothers too much about the place or the messy miscellany of tree species. It is however one of the many points we were to come upon today, through which the Bibbulman Track passes. We had been surprised to find that the southern shore of the Dam is also part of the Track.
The Warren River Cedar sounded interesting, neither of us having come upon that before. We envisaged yet another large species tree and yet found something quite different. The stop off is a short walk to a decked area over swamp lands, in which these cedar trees stand. They have a charm of their own, but are neither grand nor large and not even cedars. Their botanic name is agonis juniperina, and they are closely related to the peppermint gums which are so common in the part of the state, and particularly around Bunbury. Actually we are not that far from Bunbury despite the intervening week or so.
We were encouraged to listen to the birds and frogs inhabiting the scrub all about, so leaned on the rail in search of the promised wildlife, not very successfully. But we did learn the names of some of the many frog varieties we have heard and not seen on our jaunts into the wild lands over the past couple of weeks; frogs with wonderful names such as motorbike frogs who sound like a motorbike starting up, moaning frogs and banjo frogs that are also lovingly sometimes called pobbblebonks; I am sure it is these last that live in the scrubby drain behind our current camp.
After this, we did wonder whether the next stop for the Big Karri would be actually for a big karri or something else entirely. But it was not a trick after all and we were soon craning our necks up to view yet another very tall karri, although not as tall as the Diamond Tree or those we will see in the next few days.
We continued north, now turning right on to Channybearup Road (the place of Channy’s bear?), past a surprisingly large block of avocados, back on the bitumen after about ten kilometres of rutted dirt road. Soon we were directed to turn again onto another dirt road, this time narrow and one way only, on into the Greater Beedelup National Park to a curious attraction titled Giblett. Chris and I debated the origin of the name, deciding that it probably had something more to do with a hanging apparatus then the guts of a chicken. Spelling has never been a strong point.
The spot is the location of a very famous anti-logging protest which would have been immediately obvious to anyone having lived in Australia in the late 1990s. If I did ever hear about it, I probably would have guessed it was about somewhere in Tasmania, where there has been a lot of Greenie protest action against development over the years. How wrong I would have been.
The Giblett Forest Block occupied 460 hectares of the 3954 hectares Giblett State Forest. The Giblett was considered an old growth forest consisting almost entirely of native eucalypt forest with a smaller area of jarrah forest. More than three quarters of the forest was unlogged; old growth. In May 1997, protesters began a blockade, setting up camp here in the forest and constructing a platform high in the trees where they took turns at sitting in, action that continued right through the winter and was not resolved until a full seven months had passed. On the other side of the fence, the loggers and employees who relied on the continuation of the industry loudly made their case known. In the end, the Greenies won and today we were able to enjoy this magificent forest, now all part of the National Park and here for all the generations to come. I do despair the actions of these nutty conservationalists, and yet have much to thank them for as we travel about and enjoy the fruits of their determined and passionate stance.
And as for Giblett? Googling the name, one finds a street in Pemberton of the same name and lots of Gibletts about the country pursuing various careers, so I can only surmise that a Mr Giblett was one of the settlors of the area many years ago.
We lunched in this historic spot, in the shelter of three sided structure built more recently than the tent city that once stood here. Today it is hard to believe that such upheaval took place in this peaceful spot.
We stopped again at Pure Marri, a spot where one could pull safely off the road to admire several stately marri trees, with their signature red bleeding gum and the many honkey nuts strewn about the forest floor. And then the road continued on, descending through the forest, still on dirt road, and then out on to the Vasse Highway which we could have come through from Nannup, had we not chosen to travel via Bridgetown.
Rather than head eastward as the tour guide directed, we took a road south west through the Greater Hawke National Park, past a couple of DEC camps delightfully named Grasstree Hollow and Snottygobble Loop and a picnic place called Goblin’s Swamp. How the grandchildren would delight in these strange place names!
Arriving at the boat landing on the Donnelly River, it started to rain; we decided not to do the walk at Goblin’s Swamp, but did park at the landing and check it out. It is from here the Donnelly River Cruise departs and makes its way along the fairly narrow unattractive stretch of waterway. The river flows on out to the Southern Ocean through the D’Entrecasteaux National Park, so I am sure the cruise includes much about the natural features of the National Park and the area altogether. We had decided yesterday that we were not willing to shout ourselves a boat ride, and today, seeing the river for ourselves, caused no regret.
Back on the road, we returned to Vasse Highway, and headed toward Pembleton in the rain, deciding to call an end to the day after we had visited the Beedelup Falls.
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| Beedelup Falls |
From the top of the falls, there is a wonderful view of the Karri Valley Resort on the shore of a lovely lake. There is quite a story about the property and it is worth recounting here. I mentioned the hop growing here in the area in yesterday’s post. Well, it was here that Mr Bunn first developed his fifty hectare hop garden, which produced 50,000 kilograms of hops, enough to supply the Swan Brewery in Perth with about one third of the hops it needed for beer making.
In the early 1960s, the Waterfall Dam was built below here, to increase irrigation water supply. The dam covers about twenty seven hectares and holds over a billion litres.
By 1978, hops were no longer proving viable for the Bunns, so the land was sold off as Karri Valley Estate. A large parcel of land was purchased and developed as a trout fishing retreat but the venture was never really successful. In 1985, the Rajineeshee movement, or Orange People as they were called, took over and began a school and retreat. It was all very controversial and cultish, and eventually a combination of local pressure and internal strife caused them to sell out. Since then the current resort has been developed and if appearances are anything to go by, peace, sanity and prosperity should continue to reign.
The Bibbulmum Track makes its way up and around these falls, as it does many tourist attractions. It would seem that the meandering nature of the trail has as much to do with offering variety to the walker, as taking them from Albany to Perth.
Clad in rain jackets we walked down to the foot of the falls, a small and attractive series of rocky cascades, across the short and very new swing bridge and back to the top, before heading home.
Back at camp I cooked up a very tasty bacon pasta dish, if I may say so myself, and we caught up with my parents on Skype before settling down for some more international cycling and cricket. Tonight my father reminded us that the yachting was on tomorrow, however Australia is little interested in the Louis Vuitton Challenges between New Zealand, the Swedes and Italians. We will have to settle for the land based sports.
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