Liz and I enjoyed a hike along Joyners Ridge Road. Starting at the Maiala car park, we walked 7.6km down through the rainforest to England Creek, and then back up again. A total trip of 15.2km with almost 700m of vertical ascent. Lachlan and I walked this road as part of our hike last week, but today it seemed much easier.
This walk gave some great examples of the different environments that exist at various altitudes down the mountain. We started off in thick rainforest filled with piccabeen palms, figs, and ferns.
After about 2km, the vegetation underwent a stunningly quick change into wet Sclerophyll forests with tall Eucalyptus.
The air was filled with the calls of bellbirds and whipbirds sounding like laser sound effects from a Star Wars movie.
Another few kilometres down the track and the vegetation opened up, the ground was much drier, and we didn’t have to worry about the ubiquitous leeches that inhabit the wetter parts of the forest.
The Red Trianlge Slug (Triboniophorus graeffei) is the largest land slug in Australia. Liz almost stepped on this magnificent specimen. As we approached, it shrunk in size defensively. But even so, it was still the size of a human hand.
A previous visitor appears to have cut an archway through a lantana thicket. To my warped mind it looked like a little hut.
I really enjoyed being able to share this beautiful walk with Liz. All up it took us just around 3 hours plus 45 minutes in breaks. Let’s do it again soon!
Total distance: 16.79 km Total climbing: 762 m Average temperature: NAN Total time: 03:48:22
Bert has been in my life since I was about three years old. He was one of the wild clan of Scotsmen who had migrated to Australia in the 1950’s and befriended my parents when they arrived as immigrants from the UK in 1965.
I remember many family parties with Bert throughout my childhood, most of which would end with everyone singing traditional Scottish songs like “You Tak’ the High Road”, “Will ye no’ come back again”, “Scottish Soldier”, “The Northern Lights of Auld Aberdeen”, and a few more bawdy ones as well, which, as a child, I didn’t quite understand. One of my early childhood memories is falling asleep on a spare bed at Bert and Kate’s place while the well-oiled adults in the garden down stairs were singing “We’re poor little sheep and we’ve lost our way… Baa, Baa, Baa”.
We went on beach holidays with them – a dozen or more of us crammed into one little beach house called “Bimbo” at Moffat Beach on the Sunshine Coast – some times for up to a week.
Bert had an impish grin. Even when he was stone cold sober, he looked like he’d had a few glasses of Whisky, or if he was about to play a practical joke. One time he appeared on TV as part of the Red Hackle Pipe Band. He played the bass drum, and swung the big fluffy drumsticks grandly as the band marched. Unfortunately, while the TV camera was on him, the tether on one of his drumsticks broke, and the stick went flying through the air. Without skipping a beat, and with his famous cheeky grin, he just kept playing with one drumstick, swinging it wildly on one side of the drum and the other. For a straight faced drummer, it would have been quite a feat. For Bert it was as though he’d pulled off the most spectacular practical joke on TV and had got away with it.
He was a fan of the Brisbane Broncos Rugby League Team. One of his prized possessions what a football autographed by all the members of the 1992 Premiership Team. I know it’s authentic because I was there when they signed it. I watched that premiership game with him and about ten minutes from the end the phone rang. He just picked up the phone, said “Can’t talk, the Broncos are playing” and hung up.
Kate was the love of his life. They never had children together, but it didn’t seem to bother them. They seemed very happy together. Once they said to my Mum and Dad that the only time they regretted not having kids was when Mum and Dad’s grand children came along. Happily, all of my kids got to know Bert and Kate, and to experience a celebration at their home on several occasions.
It’s only as I write this that I realise that Bert gave me something valuable. We were a migrant family, and as such, we rarely met any extended family – aunts, uncles, grandparents. They were far away overseas. Uncle Bert and Auntie Kathy were part of our “adopted” extended family. It was this extended family with whom we spent our childhood Christmases and New Years.
I was fortunate enough to meet up with Bert a couple of weeks ago at Mum’s 70th birthday. His health was declining and he was starting to get difficult to understand. But under it all, he was still the same cheeky Uncle Bert who has known me almost all of my life.
It was the annual sports carnival at the kids’ school today. In keeping with the whole fitness concept I thought I’d leave the car at home and walk up to the school and back. School was a-buzz with excited kids in team colours chanting war-cries and cheering for their team.
I sat off to one side trying to sneak shots of the kids, but Harrison wasn’t fooled – he knew I had my eye on him.
Lilly scribbled in the front of one of her note pads this morning “I’m gonna win”. With an attitude like that, and her blue war paint, no one else had a chance.
Oh – this was a chook I saw as I was walking home. When you have a hammer, everything looks like a nail, and when you’re carrying a camera, everything seems to be asking to have its photo taken – including chickens. As soon as I stopped to look at one of them, about a dozen came running out of the coop to look at me.
It was a fun walk. The funniest thing was I actually burned up over 1,000 calories doing it. Time (and energy) fly when you’re having fun š
Total distance: 6.89 km Total climbing: 251 m Average temperature: NAN Total time: 01:38:28
I hiked up to the lookout on Clear Mountain this morning. It’s pretty steep in places – even on foot, so it’s a good workout, and the views are worth the effort.
I started walking up the “Pineapple Break”. Perhaps it was called this because it borders a former pineapple farm. But I like to think it’s because pineapples grow wild by the side of the trail. Note to self: Come back here when it’s pineapple season š
On the way up, there are myriads of jump ramps along the steep tracks built by crazy down-hill mountain bikers. There’s no way you’d get me launching off one of these things!
Looking down towards Lake Samsonvale while a large spider waits for breakfast.
A butterfly flutters into view as I enjoy the views from the top of the mountain.
A container ship is just visible out on Moreton Bay.
One of the many streams trickling down the hill
The best part of today’s hike was enjoying new tracks I’d never tried before and great views of my local area from the top.
Total distance: 5.82 km Total climbing: 426 m Average temperature: NAN Total time: 01:26:36
Lachlan and I took a long 25km hike through D’Aguilar National Park yesterday. This is the toughest walk either of us have ever done. The track included over 1,100 metres of vertical ascent and some hair-raising scrambles over washed out roads, but the experience was worth the effort.
We started on the Westside Track across the road from “Maiala” at Mount Glorious and headed north towards Lawton Road. After a couple of kilometres we had to stop and pick off dozens of leeches from our shoes and socks. I was really glad that I had covered my ankles and socks with insect repellent beforehand.
Recent rain has washed away parts of Lawton Road.
Most of the time it’s easy to walk around the washouts, but in a couple of places we had to scramble over ravines to get from one side of the road to the other.
The problem is compounded by the steep drop-off on one side of the road, and steep cliffs on the other side, which make it difficult to find a safe place to cross.
One thing’s for sure, we would never have been able to take a mountain bike over a couple of these wash-outs!
A Carpet Python sleeps in the afternoon sun in the middle of the road.
Apparently snakes don’t understand road safety guidelines.
We saw dozens of these striking Crimson Rosellas (Platycercus elegans) along the way.
Unfortunately they’re quite shy, so it was impossible to get close enough to get a decent photo.
Lawton Road winds slowly westwards up Northbrook Mountain. I felt dwarfed by these huge boulders which over-hang the road.
From the end of Lawton Road we headed south along England Creek Road. This is the view westward towards Wivenhoe Dam. The road follows a long southward ridge down from the heights of Northbrook Mountain to the valley below. There are great views east and west of the ridge line.
Lachlan takes a quick break to take in the view looking east from England Creek Road.
These caterpillars were clambering over each other forming a strange squirming heap which didn’t appear to be going anywhere.
Eventually we reached the bottom of the ridge line and crossed England Creek which flows west to Fernvale where it eventually joins the Brisbane River.
This was the about the lowest elevation of our hike, and the creek here is pretty – clear water, gravely banks, and lots of small cascades as the water splashes over the rocks.
After walking 18km, we started the final 7km up-hill trek up Joyners Ridge Road.
For me, this was the most physically demanding part of the walk. I was in pain most of the way, and could hardly walk by the time I reached the top.
Some of the views from Joyner’s Ridge Road are stunning. Here’s a view westwards as the sun was starting to go down.
After the long climb back up, we eventually made it back into the rain forest. Full of Strangler Figs, Blackbean and Piccabean Palms, this place is magical as the sun is going down. The pain in my knees and hips was intense, but it didn’t matter – we were in paradise.
The gruesome details:
Total distance: 24.6 km.
Total ascent / descent: 1170m
Total calories burned: 4833 kcal (10 “Big Macs”)
Total distance: 27.49 km Total climbing: 1563 m Average temperature: NAN Total time: 06:46:54
Although I’ve ridden some of the trails around Camp Mountain before, this is the first time I’ve ridden to the summit.
I took the long gruelling climb to the top via the “long track”, followed by a fast bone-jarring ride back down along the “short track”. If you speak to anyone who’s ridden up Camp Mountain, and you tell them you’ve ridden up it, the first thing they’ll probably ask you is “Did you go up the long track or the short track?”. The long track is “easier”, because you take longer to reach the top, so it’s not as steep. Even so, it’s a tough climb and I had to walk a short bit that was steep and washed out from recent rain.
The short track is really steep. I had to be really careful riding down it. I think anyone who has ridden UP it must be incredibly fit. (You know who you are :))
There are some spectacular views from the lookout on Camp Mountain, including this greate view of the city.
I’m feeling pretty pleased with myself after completing the gruelling climb to the summit.
These tall, straight, blue gums look like something out of a Jackson Pollock painting.
Total distance: 56.54 km Total climbing: 1186 m Average temperature: NAN Total time: 04:45:57
I know this sounds crazy, but deciding where to ride is a spiritual experience for me.
It forces me to think about where I’d really like to go, which means I have to listen to my “inner voice”. I often feel like I’m being “drawn” towards a particular place, and I just go there. Perhaps the spiritual part of all of this is feeling a connection to the land, and responding to that connection.
The end result is I fall in love with most of the places I visit, and come home really happy.
Some of the beautiful open eucalyptus forest that surrounds Dunlop Lane in Kurwongbah. As I’ve written before it’s an old road – blazed over 170 years ago, but unlike most old roads, it has retained its magic.
Looking over one of the gates on Dunlop Lane into the “Slickers” horse riding ranch. Lilly loves visiting here. So do I (but for different reasons!).
Lake Kurwongbah as seen from one of the quiet tracks that lead off Scout Road in Kurwongbah. It’s amazing what you see when you follow a dirt track to see where it goes š
Total distance: 49.36 km Total climbing: 799 m Average temperature: NAN Total time: 05:39:02
In Aboriginal Dream-time stories from this area, “Taggan” was the spirit of the Rainbow.
Whenever the end of the rainbow touched the water, Taggan would leave small crystal stones, and the Aborigines seemed to know exactly where to dive for these prized stones.
Only one or two older, experienced men in a tribe would be allowed to have these stones which they believed gave them special powers to bring thunder, cure disease, or bring rain.
These special men were called “Turwrans”.
One of the great Turrwans of our area was Dalaipi. The local people looked on him as their Rain Maker.
Tom Petrie tells of how Dalaipi wanted to make rain come once, and dove into the North Pine River with his tomahawk to look for a “taggan” stone quite close to where I took this picture today.
The North Pine Tribe believed that in winter, the flying foxes hid under the water where the “taggan stops”, and that they waited till the warm weather came back before returning.
Today I couldn’t see any rainbow spirits, or flying foxes, but I thought a lot about Dalaipi and this place that was special to him.
