Our overnight stop proved to be a quiet restful place for weary
travellers and offered the bonus of the lit up icons. We wandered out into the
dark after dinner to check out the promised light and were amazed to see the
two entire cliff faces lit up revealing one face with the indented shrine and
the other with the relief of “the Virgin” standing out from the rock. Of course
without the suggestion of the place name and without imagination, the casual
observer may well have wondered what they were looking at aside from a great
waste of electricity. I am keen to find out who foots the bill for this
extravagance; perhaps it is a very evangelical branch of the Catholic Church?
This morning, uninspired by the vision of the previous night, we
travelled the short distance into Springsure. This township of about one
thousand people sits at 322 metres ASL and today serves the surrounding rural
population and the travellers passing through. While it appears to have most
services, I found it uninspiring.
The newspaper was not due in until the late morning and we were not keen
to hang about so carried on, now heading seventy kilometres south east to
Rolleston with about a fifth of the population of Springsure. Close by is a
prison and a coalmine, and of course a thriving cattle industry. The general
store doubles as the fuel outlet where we topped up with just 10 litres of
diesel. At just over $1.60 a litre, we calculated our requirements carefully;
we had paid $1.43 a litre in Emerald. Rolleston is situated on the junction of
the Gregory, Dawson and Carnarvon Highways and could probably support a little
more business in town.
The road south to Rolleston passes over the Staircase Range, named after
a sandstone escarpment that has naturally formed the shape of a staircase.
Below, the wide valley irrigated by the Comet River and its tributaries is laid
out; quite a lovely sight.
From Rolleston we headed south this time on the Carnarvon Highway and turned
west sixty or so kilometres south, heading into the National Park. We had been
warned that the road into the park was “just hideous”. We were well prepared,
both mentally and practically. Chris had covered both the fridge and door vents
with taped up cardboard and I had been extra careful with packing everything
securely in the caravan. The first thirty kilometres or so were sealed, narrow
and very pretty, through flat cattle country. Large concentrated herds of
contented fat beef cattle stood about in the fodder crops and we wove our way
along the unfenced road, attempting to avoid most of their output. We crossed a
couple of fords but still the road continued to be very acceptable. Finally we
reached the last gravel section and passed over fords at the bottom of steep
gullies, but apart from gathering dust which is the bane of Chris’ life and to
be avoided wherever possible, we arrived at this absolutely delightful camp
without incident. Perhaps having had such a low expectation was a bonus after
all?
It was just after midday when we checked in, paying an exorbitant $42
per night for a powered site. We set up camp in twenty minutes, had lunch and
then headed up in to the National Park just a few kilometres up the road.
What a stunning place this is! The Carnarvon Fan Palms are in full
bloom, as are the wattle. The birds here are countless; apparently there are
about 173 different species. The Pretty Faced Wallabies were lounging about the
Information Centre in the most nonchalant manner, many with the long lanky legs
of their offspring extending from their pouches. We picked up a guide from the
office and wandered about the centre reading the interpretative panels and
examining the excellent relief model of the gorge.
Travelling back toward the camp we paused to do a couple of lovely
walks: an hour and a half up into the Mickey Creek Gorge and the very narrow
Warrumbah Gorge where we could stretch out our arms and touch both sides. The
gorge sides were high, narrow and tilted so that at one point we could not see
the sky. The second walk was a much shorter half hour up to Baloon Cave, a
short walk through fan palms and cyclads to a small sandstone overhang
featuring stencilled Aboriginal rock art. The aboriginal word Baloon refers to the three rock adze shapes stenciled on the wall.
Back at camp, we joined a camp fire talk from a guide at 5 pm where we
learned much about the geology, biology, anthropology and history of the place.
The original 16,000 hectare part of the National Park was a cattle station
which was taken back by the government when the leaseholder was unable to meet
his payments in 1932 and declared a park. The Carnarvon Gorge National Park is
just one part of the Central Queensland Sandstone Belt parks; the belt covering
an area of approximately 82,000 square kilometres.
Tom, the park guide, who kept us spellbound for a good forty minutes was
also trying to tempt us to join his guided tour which I am sure would be excellent.
He is a mine of information however we will make our own way up the canyon
tomorrow morning. He gave us some excellent tips on how to approach the trip,
the best being to start as early as possible in the morning to catch the
wildlife before they shelter from the heat. With that in mind, we have set the
alarm for 5.30 am and I am off to bed early.
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