Day 9 ... Kings Canyon

The bonding of the group has now created a very effective team, with camp being set and broken with efficiency and good humour - as well as what appears to be pleasure in how good we are together. Hard to describe this - more of a sense than a fact. Everyone is now involved all the time - no one sits out because they did it last time. It is all hands to the tiller. And no whingeing ... what a treat!

After a cursory caffeine-injection at the Kings Station homestead it was the short haul to the Canyon walk. Surprisingly, after I indicated that I was not undertaking the Rim Walk, noone else opted to take the easier option with me. I solemnly pledged Jarrod that I would be "sensible" - although those who know me reckon that word is not in my lexicon. I took one look at the first 300 metres up to the rim and I just knew I was doing the right thing. "Sensible" equated to going slowly, keeping to made paths and drinking lots of water. It was a calculated risk by Jarrod - he was not following the "duty of care" rules to the letter. I appreciated the trust he showed in me.

The thermometer - under the hat - showed 30C when they commenced and had risen to 34C by the time they returned 3 hours later. They did their 6km in the same time that I did my 2.6 km. I returned to the pavilion just in time to hear them crashing noisily through the final stages of the descent. I had kept my word and measured-out-a-snails-pace.

But I had a wonderful 3 hours. There was no heat to speak of - being under the canopy of River Gums for the duration of the walk. I need to point out that, although I took the Creek walk, this does not imply that I saw any water whatsoever. The entire creek bed was totally dry. The accompanying image shows an aerial shot of the canyon. I guess the creek walk penetrates 2/3 of the way up the floor of the canyon and halts when the indigenous people can not countenance further encroachment into their sacred places. The head of the canyon appeared from a distance to be greener and moister.

The grand thing about solitary walking is not only being able to loiter when the feeling takes, but also the total silence that surrounds. Not many other parties passed me on the way in or the way out. The most notable being a young family from Sydney with a 5 week old daughter. I stopped to photograph wildflowers. I stopped to scan the rocks for lizards, skinks, goannas and the like. All to no avail - I saw nary a one. However, the birdlife was plentiful and many a time I perched on a rock and waited and listened breathlessly to them amongst the canopy and even hopping silently around the rocks close by. I investigated the trunks of fallen trees for termite mounds. I got up close and personal with fissures and faux-fossils.

The trail ended in a raised platform from where I could spy a wooden bridge over a chasm which I presumed was part of the rim walk. I waited for my mob to cross - and when I thought I saw them I carried on like a thing possessed with much cooee-ing and flaying of hands. They remained oblivious.

When I returned to the pavilion, I was preparing myself for 30 minutes or so reading "The Celestine Prophecy" when the mob returned - and their very subduedness (huh?) indicated to me that they had endured much. Lunch was accompanied by the patrolling of a hungry dingo who got much sympathy but absolutely no food - it is prohibited to feed them. By mid-afternoon we were careering down Albert Namitjira Drive being caught up in roadworks and the late evening watering of the road-base which was wierdly incongruous in such a parched land. As twilight moved in we set camp in the dry bed of Two Mile Creek where Allison introduced us to the dubious pleasures of S'mores - at least they included marshmallows and chocolate!

Jarrod promised me that I would awake in the morning and feel as though I were in a painting.

Comments

[Claudia]

I was a bit concerned about the tightness in your chest on Day 8. In a way, it was a good warning because you took it easier on Day 9, and it gave you a wonderful 3-hour-solitude with nature. Group-life can be a pain at times! As always, the photos are extraordinary. You're on your way to Alice Springs. In a few months, you'll probably rewrite, or add to, this travel log. I'm sure you'll find more, and more to say about what you saw and felt.