Follow The Sun

When my friend Jason asked me if I knew of any places which offered good views of the setting sun, I knew exactly where to go.

The picturesque northern shoreline of Lake Samsonvale is one of my favourite places to ride – it’s close to home, remote and on hectic week days, it has all the peace I need.

I’m unable to ride or drive at the moment due to injury, so when Jason asked for my suggestion for a sunset hike, this trail was the obvious choice.

We parked the car at the end of Whiteside Road and set off on the pleasant 20 minute walk to the shoreline as the sun slowly eased towards the western horizon. It was good to be back.

There are kilometres of wonderful tracks out here. Most of them don’t lead anywhere – they’re “out and back”. But adventures like these are more about the journey than getting from “A” to “B”.

We arrived at the shoreline about ten minutes before sunset. This was the same spot my son Harrison and I had camped at a year ago.

Jason starting clicking furiously. He’s a really good photographer, and has just bought himself a new mirrorless DSLR camera. He’d come to the right place.

I plonked myself down on the shoreline and just soaked it all up.

As the sun leaked honey-gold light, birds glided effortlessly across the sky.

This magic happens every day. I was grateful to be here, rather than in front of a TV or computer screen.

Compared to a bike ride, it’s strange to sit on a lakeside shore.

Most of the time on a ride I point my camera at my friends and wait for them to do something interesting. If I’m too slow I miss it.

Watching the daylight dwindle is much slower – a lot less stressful and more relaxing.

The D’Aguilar Range framed the western horizon: the peculiar triangle of Mount Samson towering above the rest.

Known as “Buran” or “windy place” in the Undambi language it towers 690 metres above sea level – the second highest peak in the D’Aguilar Range.

I smiled as I remembered our hare-brained escapades a few years ago, trying to haul our bikes to the top of that peak and ride them back down. What were we thinking?

The sun didn’t take long to slip beneath the horizon. The air grew cooler, things became quieter, and the golden-orange hues slowly dimmed to reds and purples.

I donned a geeky looking headlamp to make sure I didn’t trip over anything, and watched as long red fingers of sunbeams reached up from the horizon.

Spectacular!

(Photo: Jason Reed)

I enjoyed this mid-week evening adventure. Despite the injuries, it was reassuring that I could still have fun exploring unusual places.

(Photo: Jason Reed)

Thanks for the photo, Jason 🙂

Although we hiked back along the same course, it seemed totally different in the dark.

Despite our lights, it was easy to miss the turns.

I was glad I had my GPS to confirm where we were.

Cane Toads glared defiantly at us from the gloom, dogs barked in the distance, and diamond glints reflected back at us from hundreds of tiny insect eyes.