Carnarvon Great Walk: Trees, Trail and Thunderstorms

I spent a week offline walking in the forest and it was gooooooood.

A few weeks back I did the Carnarvon Great Walk with my fast walking fella and a couple of friends. It’s a stunning 90-ish kilometre, six day walking trail in central Queensland, Australia.

No news, no internet and no phone reception. Just trees, the trail and a few thunderstorms.

The fun of planning and anticipation…

In my opinion a big part of the fun of travel is the planning and anticipating. I borrowed a friend’s dehydrator and dried veggies, strawberries and beans for the trip. We planned our meals, bought food to last the trip and divided it amongst us.

I laid everything out on my bed and wondered if I could cut down on anything.

I managed to ditch a pair of socks and a t-shirt but that’s about it.

Along with the basics we all carried some little personal luxuries too…

Stan’s was scotch.

Noel’s was cappuccino sachets.

Mine was art supplies.

Steve’s was… Erm, he’s a pro so no extras for him!

Getting There

We managed to fit four fully grown humans and four fully packed backpacks into one not so big vehicle and headed west. 10 hours later we arrived at the Carnarvon Gorge Visitors Centre camp ground.

It felt great to finally be there after so many hours in the car. The camp ground is on the edge of a pretty creek with big eucalypts overhead.

We’d not long dusted ourselves off from the journey, pitched our small hiking tents, had a dip in the creek than it started to bucket down. 

We rock-hopped back to camp just as the first fat rain drops fell. From the shelter of the toilet block we watched the storm rage around us. Flashes of lightening, cracks of thunder, strong wind and rain so heavy the camp ground soon looked like a lake.

We watched on as a river seemed to be going in the front door of our tent and out the back.

We chatted with some other campers also taking shelter.

“Are you here for the great walk?” They asked.

“Yup,” we responded.

“Have you just finished or just starting?”

“We start tomorrow.”

We looked out at the weather and our tents and laughed.

Eventually the rain stopped and the sky cleared.

Our tents survived and we were pleasantly surprised to discover all was dry inside.

DAY 1 - Carnarvon Gorge to Big Bend

Breakfast done, tents packed, boots on, we were ready for adventure.

The first day of the Carnarvon Great Walk is stunning. The trail meanders through forest that looks prehistoric, with large cycads sharing space with eucalypts.

There are a number of side walks off the main track that lead to moss-covered canyons, waterfalls and rock walls covered in ancient Aboriginal art.

We spent the day exploring the side trails, following the main trail that criss-crosses the creek and chatting to other happy hikers.

One hiker told us he used to be a guide, so when I saw him again in front of a wall of aboriginal art, I asked him to tell me about the circular carvings all over the rock. I was surprised when this previously chatty fellow clammed up and told me to read the signs.

I read up… They were carvings of vulva, for fertility.

Hehe.

We arrived at Big Bend Walkers Camp early in the afternoon.

Big Bend

Big Bend is, as the name suggests, on a bend in the creek. There is a beautiful swimming hole at the base of the gorge wall, and delicate maidenhair fern growing where the water meets the rock.

We spent the afternoon swimming, rock hopping and swapping stories with other walkers.

After a delicious dinner of mushroom risotto cooked on a hiking stove so small it fits in the palm of my hand, we snuggled into our tents.

Pretty soon we were up again, to get our bags out of the rain and another thunderstorm… The gorge walls amplified the thunder so that each rumble sounded like a giant cracking a whip.

Day 2 – Big Bend to Gadd’s Walkers Camp

The previous afternoon, some other walkers had told us the path for this day’s walk looked like a scramble up a steep cliff. This portion of the walk is grade 5 - the max rating for walking trails in Australia.

Steve and I had done a recon. mission in thongs (flip flops) the afternoon before to see what we had in store.

The start of the trail is through Boowinda Gorge. We were dwarfed by cool, vertical rock walls as we made our way over smooth rocks ranging in size from pebbles to cannonballs. Much easier in boots than thongs!

The canyon was quiet and peaceful, but also slightly eerie.

Boowinda Gorge

After 20 minutes or so of walking over the rocks we arrived at the path that would take us up to Battleship Spur.

The start of the trail is indeed a mountain goat scramble up and over a rabble of rocks. I did most of it on all fours, placing my feet carefully so I didn’t topple backwards and avalanche my way back to the gorge floor.

When we reached the top I let out a loud ‘woo hoo’ which satisfyingly echoed throughout the gorge.

It was premature.

We still had a long way to go to get to the top.

We spent the rest of the morning climbing rock stairs. Up, up, up we went. Approximately 600 metres increase in elevation over about 3kms. It was relentless and it was once again stormy - rain, wind and cold.

We all walked at our own pace. Steve disappeared ahead, Stan and Noel were somewhere behind and I was in the middle, methodically climbing one stair at a time.

I thought back to scaling Mount Kilimanjaro years before, and the guides chanting, “pole, pole” as we scaled the altitude… Slowly, slowly.

That mantra was on a permanent loop.

We had been concerned about scaling the spur in the heat, so we’d left early without any breakfast, so I was ravenous.

I stopped and pulled a museli bar from my pack, sat on a rock and ate it, peeking at a very beautiful, moody forest from underneath my rain jacket, and felt completely content. There’s nothing like food when you’re hungry, and a stunning view when you’re knackered.

There were wildflowers peeking out from amongst the rocks, lots of birds flying from tree to tree and strange little insects that I didn’t notice until I got still.

One by one we all made it to the top. I walked up the final 200 metres to Battleship Spur lookout, but it was a waste of time. The weather was so thick and wild by this stage that I couldn’t see a thing… On a clear day you can apparently see the gorge winding below like a rainbow serpent.

As we made our way through the trees and across the plateau the thunderstorm intensified. Flashes of lightening and immediately after, loud cracks of thunder that told us the storm was right upon us.

Then, CRACK! A laser beam of lightning struck close. VERY close! My knee jerk reaction was to duck for cover.

Eventually the path started to descend. First through a misty forest and then through tall grass coloured gold and ruby by the rain.

My boots were saturated and sloshed with each step.

Getting down the other side of the spur, the weather eased and we finally stopped for some food and for my favourite part of the day… coffee!!

If there’s nothing like food when you’re hungry, there’s nothing like a steaming cup of coffee after a morning of extreme physical exertion. Heaven!

We arrived at Gadd’s Walkers Camp later that afternoon, and had it all to ourselves. In fact we pretty much had the whole trail to ourselves. (We only saw two other walkers the entire time.)

We were sodden but happy. We’d made it through some wild weather, and triumphed over what we knew from the topographic map, was the most challenging section of the walk. Plus we’d narrowly escaped lightening. Life was good!

We removed our saturated boots and socks, pitched tents, and enjoyed the luxury of a table to sit at and put things on.

Steve made a fire, Stan surveyed the map, Noel cooked dinner and I threw in some young cobblers pegs I’d gathered along the way. (Side note, cobblers pegs are a very nutritious weed, high in iron, calcium, protein and lots of other good stuff.)

More thunderstorms and rain that night, but once again our trusty little hiking tent kept us cosy and dry.  

Day 3 – Gadd’s to West Branch

Happily our boots were almost completely dry by morning. We had a hearty breakfast of porridge and then set out for the next leg of our walk.

The first few kms were easy walking and we chatted happily. But by mid morning we reached another steep section, which was made more challenging by the heat coupled with the humidity of yesterday’s rain, and more on the way.

Once again I chanted my ‘pole, pole’ mantra.

This was a much shorter incline than yesterday, but felt more intense because of the heat. It made me very grateful for yesterday’s storms and a cool climb up Battleship Spur.

One by one, we met at the top for a most wonderful morning tea/coffee break, sitting in the grass, looking out over the heights we’d just scaled.

A few more hour’s walking through the hot and humid afternoon brought us to West Branch Walkers Camp.

The highlight of this camp was having a wash - standing behind a rainwater tank with the warm sun on my skin as I poured pots of cold water over myself.

Later that afternoon, the heat and humidity shifted to an eerie stillness. The sky darkened, and then we heard a roar coming at us through the trees.

“Quick! Get in the tents, the storm’s coming.”

We each ran for our tents just in time for the gale force winds that had been whipping through the bush towards us, bringing heavy rain and hail. It was exhilarating and also a bit scary. I thought about the trees above our little tent and hoped one of the branches didn’t fall on us.

It made me think of my grandfather who always told visitors not to park their car under the big old gumtree that grew near the back gate. He called it a widow maker.

As we huddled in the tent a branch did fall on the tent. It wasn’t much more than a twig but it made my heart beat fast and say some little prayers to the tree to please stand strong.

We both peeked through the tent door at the storm ranging. We pulled shoes and pots and bags further in to the tent to stop them from getting saturated by the rain and hail blowing in from all directions.

I held my breath.

It passed over relatively quickly. As we heard it barrelling on through the trees and away from us we all emerged to survey the damage. Small branches carpeted the ground, along with a decent amount of hail.

Once again our trusty little tent had withstood the onslaught. We were dry, and the trees above had held firm.

The sky cleared and we cooked dinner, enjoying that fresh feeling of a cleansed world. Some kangaroos grazed near us.

Steve and I went for a walk after dinner and found many fallen branches and even a couple of uprooted trees very close to camp. We had been lucky.

Day 4 – West Branch to Consuelo Camp

We awoke to a stunning, sunny morning, with no sign of the night’s storms (which had been on repeat all through the night).

Today’s destination was Consuelo Walkers Camp. A relatively easy 17km walk passing through a mahogany forest.

Finally the weather changed. Noel (a man of the land) had been looking at the clouds all day and informed us that the wind had shifted and that we wouldn’t get anymore storms. We were doubtful but hopeful. He was right. That receding storm cloud in the picture is the last one we saw.

Stan had saved a little wooden figurine that he found discarded in a fireplace back at West Branch. He was a miniature circus strongman in a striped red (now faded to pink) leotard and a neatly curling black moustache. Stan named him Consuelo after the day’s destination, and he became the camp mascot.

I thought it was an Italian name, but it’s actually a Spanish word meaning solace. Solace for little Consuelo who was saved from the fire, and solace for us too…

Solace was sitting on a smooth tree trunk growing at an angle, sipping tea and watching the day’s shadows lengthening.

Solace was gazing up at a clear starry night through the door of the tent as I drifted off to sleep.

Solace was waking up to another simple day of walking.

Day 5 – Consuelo to Cabbage Tree

Today was the shortest and easiest walk, which I was glad of. I had some blisters happening and sore knees from slipping on mud.

The ubiquitous Carnarvon cycads marked our path, along with an abundance of grass trees (Xanthorrhoea) in full bloom, attracting orgies of birds and bees.

Our last night at Cabbage Tree Camp was bittersweet. It felt like an achievement, but we weren’t sure we were ready to return to the world just yet.

We made the most of our last afternoon on the trail. We chatted, we drank tea, we had pot washes in the sunshine amongst the trees. Noel and Stan napped, Steve meditated, I painted.

We ate another delicious, simple dinner and went to bed with the sun.

 Day 6 – Down, down, down to the gorge

Too soon, the last day of our hike arrived. As with all our mornings we sparked up the little stove, cooked porridge, sat on a large log that ran through the length of the camp and enjoyed it as we chatted about the day ahead.

Today we would be descending off the plateau and back down to Carnarvon Gorge.

We had some incredible views today, off the plateau and across expanses of Western Queensland in one direction, and of the gorge in the other.

Boolimba Bluff

Climbing up is physically demanding, but going down is an absolute knee killer. I watched in amazement as a family of kangaroos bounded hell for leather down a steep hillside in front of me. They are well designed. I’d like a kangaroo tail.

When we made it back to the visitor’s centre and the car it had become a scorching hot day. The first thing I did was discard my boots and hobble my way to the creek, where I sat with both feet and both hands plunged into the crystal water. It felt goood!

I wonder why we make life anymore complex than eating, sleeping, walking… and drinking coffee?