Gorging ourselves

Thursday 23

We woke not knowing what view we would see once we stepped down from our bed up high. “Wow, killer spot babe! Check out the river”. I got out the camera and took a couple of shots. A large towering ridge line to the East and a large sweeping tidal river to the West. It was an epic spot. We both needed a shower, it had been a while… well we were into our third day. It was probably best we showered before chatting to people at El Questro later on, smelling like a pair of teenagers after a footy match wouldn’t of been a pleasant experience for both parties. We took in the morning sun and the sooth clean water running over our naked bodies without a worry in the world of anyone seeing – it was bliss.

The final section of the track we were told it gets slow. Excited for what was ahead we took the trusty Steed in and out of low four wheel drive as we crawled and flexed over rocks and boulders with the odd washed out track as a challenge. We were finally properly testing out the old girl with her new ass end over real four wheel drive obstacles and terrain. It handled it without a hiccup. Easily came, easily conquered we completed the Karunjie Track. As we neared the final bend we past a warning sign, ‘use at own risk’.

I like those signs, it gives you a real sense of accomplishment. Bring on more signs like it.

Touching tyres, we finally landed onto the Gibb River Road! “We made it”, yet we were back tracking as the four wheel drive track took us quite far from the start of it, and we had to head back thirty kilometers East to get to El Questro.

The road into El Questro was dusty to say the least. A fair bit of traffic was rolling along the roads and clouds of dust were sitting as there was no wind to help scurry it off the road. As we neared, we got a great advantage point over the station, it sat in the middle of large hills and ridges, another bowl. You could see a haze of dust sitting in the bowl from all the moving traffic constantly kicking it up. A couple of river crossings later we were checking in. The woman looked surprised when we only asked to stay for one night. “My dear’s, people normally stay for four or so nights as there is so much to do and see. We normally recommend you do one gorge a day due to the heat”. Well she hadn’t met the Cook’s before! “No, one night will be sufficient. We would love to stay more but our schedule doesn’t fit” we replied.

Finding a spot on the campground is all about flat level ground at a reasonable distance from the shower block. There were not a lot of people there. I assumed as all the gorges and lookouts you need to drive to everyone was out scouting the countryside. We were not risking getting our spot taken when we made our way to a gorge, so we left our chairs and bedding out as an indicator to others that we had claimed this section ours.

Zeebeedee Springs was first on our list. It is a hot spring flowing up from the aquifer deep below and coughing out a beautiful 32 degrees of crystal clear water. The thermal waters cascading its way down a rocky hill with tall palm trees entangling their roots around the rocks below for support. Small one, two and three man sized pools littered the hillside with their own waterfalls entering and exiting each one as the water made its way through them. Such a gorgeous spot.

Again no story could ever reflect its beauty. Something you will have to come and experience for yourselves.

We made our way to the top and found the source of where the spring started. A tricky couple of sections, scrambling over slippery boulders and wet roots from the palm trees above, we found a small pool just big enough for the both of us. Too high and challenging for those grey nomads to conquer, we sat on our own in the soothing warm pool for well over an hour. Twelve o’clock struck and a Ranger came to tell us to get out. For whatever reason the springs shut at twelve o’clock every day, so we vacated and made our way back down the tropical oasis in the desert.

Being told that El Questro Gorge was sheltered from the sun for most of the walk, we took it upon ourselves to not take the lady in receptions advice and try and conquer another gorge on the same day. Woops, we were right to do so! The track into the car park had a deep-water crossing. ‘Advised ONLY 4WD’s with snorkels’. With no depth marking signs and dark brown water we had no way of knowing how deep it was. With gritted teeth we plunged in. The Steed motored through with no worries and made mince meat of it all. Water lapped up against our doors, a sound I had never experienced before. It was deep. I got concerned looks from family before we left when installing the bigger lift on the ute, wondering why it was so high and if we really needed it. But finally it had paid off to be that extra bit higher. Across the other side I had a quick walk around. Water was pouring from the holes in the chassis. I checked inside the rear tool boxes and opened up the doors on the ute. Not a drop had got in. Both DC Customs and Toyota had both built tough sealing systems. We were super amazed and happy as we carried on toward the gorge.

Gorge number two for the day, a 3.4 kilometre return walk. We set off skipping over rocks that were laid out over a muddy slow flowing creek. Cath wearing her Nike huarache triple blacks as her choice of foot wear for this afternoons activities could only keep her eyes on the mud. Waving her hands from side to side frantically trying to stay up right as she hopped from rock to rock over the mud made for great entertainment. The mud continued as we made our way up stream and into the tall slowly narrowing gorge that was tall and almighty on both sides. The sun just getting in through the small crack above as we weaved our way through, ever climbing upwards towards the waters beginnings. Clambering, climbing and hopping over loose boulders. A worry always present that if one of us was to have an injury, how you would ever get out of here? We turned a corner and squeezed our way up the narrowing gorge till we made it to the first swimming pool. A large boulder had fallen from above and wedged itself in amongst the walls either side. Water backed up against it and formed a waterfall that shot off down to one side. The track continued on but only for the brave that could hold bags above there heads and wade through the water to then ascend the boulder. Us being short asses and Cath’s footwear and her doubting ability to scale the rock, we chose not to keep going. “Next time we come back, we’ll be more prepared and we’ll conquer it babe!” A dip in the cool waters we made our way back down the gorge hopping and skipping along. Cath had grown confidence in her rock hopping ability’s and was motoring along, giving her huarache’s a good work out. We passed an elderly couple on the way back. As friendly travellers we have become often seeking a conversation with anyone else we said hi and told them about the track ahead. The couple would have been in their seventies or eighties. With walking sticks in hand they weren’t turning around after hearing our warning advice. “I’ve already had a fall and landed on my face, I’m taking that as a sign to slow down a bit”. With that information we encouraged her on and didn’t want to let our worry shadow her own sense of accomplishment. “Go get it”, I said. In shock and amazement we left them to it. Some people don’t need to be warned, they already have the worry in them. Sometimes, what we need to hear from each other is that we can do what we set our hearts on, not the former? Taking her courage with us we completed El Questro Gorge and found ourselves snacking again at the ute. “What’s next?” I said.
“Preferably something out of the sun. Shall we climb the Saddleback Ridge look out?”
“Bring it on”.

What is it with the maps with these places we come to? Caravan parks, gorge walks and station maps are terrible out here to say the least! Basic dirt maps. No scaling of any type. As an avid map lover, I find it easy and get my bearing well if I can see a true map. The map we had for EQ was un-bearably shit. Sorry for the French, but that is the most accurate definition for it. They had what seemed like two road maps, one on top of the other, but the second one was upside down! What it showed and where we actually went, were two different stories. The map marked ‘High lift vehicles only. Steep rocky accents. Recommended for experience four wheel drivers only’. “That’s us!”. We climbed up to the top. It wasn’t anything challenging whatsoever. I taught Cath how to scale way steeper and harder terrain before. We were both surprised. There were two look outs, the first taller than the second. But the second offered a viewing platform with seats and a table. We made our way to it and found level ground. Feeling a little peckish, we whipped out the burners and chucked a packet of snags and fried vegies in a pan. We sat and admired the 360 degree view over the station whilst filling our bellies. It was only half past four by the time we had the ute all packed up. Still with just under an hour till sunset we toyed with the idea of making it to another lookout. Another couple had made there way to the top by this point. We had a quick chat to them and they told us about Bronco’s lookout, which held a spectacular view over a sweeping river bend that held salties at the bottom. Well with that, we made our way back down and onto Bronco’s.

It really did not disappoint. With the sun glowing behind us, our view East was amazing with ridges to the horizon glowing from deep orange to red and then to purple.

It was a sensational view and well worth the extra drive. No salties to be seen and with darkness quickly setting in, we followed a Safari Tour back down the ridge.

It was hard to see as the dust kicked up and our headlights barely breaking through as the dust in front of us lit up under the light. We crawled along barely seeing the ute ahead. I felt for the safari tour as it was a land cruiser with seats built onto the top of a tray. No sides or cab, they were exposed to the elements. Human vacuum cleaners filtering the dust out of the air in front of us still gave us no relief. I turned on all our lights for the first time in an attempt to see and be seen.

The Steed was lit up like the Coca-Cola truck at Christmas time.

We had the rock lights, side lights, head lights, flood lights, spot lights and full beam on. We made our way back to camp humming, “holidays are coming, holidays are coming”.

Feeding our bellies so early we were hungry once again by six thirty. Feeling the strain from all the four wheel driving and walking we had packed into one day, a desire for a cold beer was on my tongue. We treated our craving and got a bowl of hot chips and a beer for myself at the bar/restaurant they have at the campground. With such a massive day and cramming so much in, we retired into our bed on top of the ute for a well deserved rest.

The Cooks.