I decided it was time for a long overdue visit to Deepwater Bend at the mouth of the Pine River and the surrounding wetlands. The Wyampa people called the thick Mangrove Swamps “Tinchi”, and the awkward looking long-legged birds that poked around in the mud “Tamba”, which is why the Brisbane City Council named these wetlands “Tinchi Tamba”.
Most of the coastline near Brisbane along Moreton Bay was a wetland environment. Today the most of the northern section of the Gateway Motorway is bordered by the wetlands on one side or another as it winds its way between the Pine River in the north to the Brisbane River in the south.
Deepwater Bend is a great spot for a picnic or cast a line in for a spot of fishing. There are some great views westward to the D’Aguilar Ranges.
On the bank of a nearby creek there’s a “Bird Hide” which allows you to watch the local birdlife without them seeing you. In a few weeks this water will be teeming with migratory birds as they make their way back south to breed.
The Tinchi Tamba wetlands are criss-crossed by a network of trails. One of them headed off into some thick swamp forest, so I thought to myself “Why not?” and rode off to see where the trail went.
As you can see from the old fence posts, this whole area used to be farmland. These days you won’t find any cattle, but you’ll find hundreds of kangaroos and birds.
This road was blazed in the 1860’s because of the Gympie Gold Rush. Every man and his dog packed their picks, shovels and tents and headed north from Brisbane to strike it rich. Some accounts even speak of people piling their meagre belongings into a wheelbarrow and walking from Brisbane to Gympie.
Before then, parts of it were actually an old aboriginal trail used by the Turrbal and Kabi / Gubbi-Gubbi people as they walked the area between Brisbane and the Sunshine Coast.
This is part of the same old road that passes through what is now modern-day Strathpine, Lawnton, Petrie and Kallangur. It’s just further north along that same road.
There were no horses on it today, or wheelbarrows, just a few trail bikes, 4wds and one Mountain Bike (me!).
In her book “Reminiscences of Early Queensland“, Constance Campbell Petrie writes how her father, Tom Petrie, helped blaze parts of the road:
When Davis (or ” Duramboi “) was asked to mark a road to Gympie, he sought my father’s assistance for the first part of the way, saying he would know where he was all right when he got to the Glass House Mountains, as he had been there before when living with the blacks. So Father took him to the other side of Caboolture and put him and party on his (” Tom Petrie’s”) marked tree line to Petrie’s Creek, on the Maroochy River. Then when the line to Gympie was marked, he went with Cobb and Co. to help them pick out stopping places for the changing of horses. The road was just frightful at that time ; we in these days could not recognize it for the same.
I made a spur-of-the moment decision to try the Beerburrum East State Forest today. I rode it about six months ago and really enjoyed the long flat dirt roads which let me zone out and just concentrate on the ride.
The forest is full of these roads, and at this time of year they’re perfect to get a few kilometres under the belt.
Elimbah Creek cuts through the forest and is a nice place to stop for a quick breather. I came upon a few motor cyclists and be both were effusive about how incredible the place was, and what a beautiful day it was. Even if you’re into different things, it was great to meet someone enjoying what they were doing as much as I was enjoying what I was doing.
As you get further north, the Glasshouse Moutains impose themselves on most views. Here’s Beerwah, the legendary mother of the family watching over me today. She’s still pregnant, but mountains take a long time to give birth 🙂
…and Father Tibrogargan, still brooding, watching grumpily out to sea. He still hasn’t forgiven Coonowrin. Apparently some mountains take a long time to forgive.
All-in-all a perfect day. Next time I’d like to bring a few friends along and take it slower.
This time I was 2 mins slower than last time, but I didn’t have a major break this time, and still managed to average 21.5km/h over 60km, so I’m happy 🙂
Total distance: 60.53 km Total climbing: 412 m Average temperature: NAN Total time: 03:14:42
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.
I found a decent looking route on Garmin Connect (thanks 1aggers) that I thought was worth a try, and set off from Matthew Flinders park.
This place appeals to me from a historical perspective because it’s where Matthew Flinders camped in July 1799 while exploring the Moreton Bay area aboard the Norfolk, which makes it one of the earliest places in our region where European contact was first made. The story goes that Flinders sailed up the Pumicestone Passage and then up Glasshouse Creek before coming ashore and hiking to the base of Tibrogargan. It was too sheer for him to climb, so he took the easy option and climbed Mt Beerburrum instead.
Whenever I visit the Glasshouse Mountains, I’m always mindful of the Aboriginal Legend of the area, and the timelessness of family conflict, disappointment and forgiveness (or the lack thereof). I don’t know what it is, but when you spend the day in front of these large monoliths, the legend becomes more than a quaint story. It takes on a power of its own. I could understand Tibrogargan’s rage, Beerwah’s disappointment, and even Coonowrin’s reticence.
So all of this was going through my head while I tried to complete this difficult ride today.
I started off on the Trachyte Track – a beautiful single track around the base of Tibrogargan. But watch out – it has stairs in some places making it a challenging ride at times.
The Trachyte Track winds through the forest up the northern slopes of Mt Beerburrum to Jack Ferris Lookout, which has some great views of some of the other mountains, including Tiberoowuccum and Ngungun – two of the smaller ones.
I then bit off a bit more than I could chew when I tried riding over “The Twins”. These two pert mammarian hills seem harmless enough. But I ended up dragging the bike up the steep rutted track on one side, then carefully walking it down the steep rocky track on the other side. But I did ride some of it 🙂
I then bashed north through some narrow muddy forestry roads until I reached the main lookout which has some excellent views of the mountains.
From there I headed up to Beerwah then down some steep but picturesque tracks towards Coonowrin. All along this section, Beerwah towered over me as a rode. It was almost like she was looking over my shoulder.
Towards the end of this track, the wet weather and the 4WD’s have taken their toll. The track is terribly rutted, making it impossible to ride (or drive) through. My “Giant” bike was dwarfed by some of the ruts in the track.
Total distance: 40.92 km Total climbing: 935 m Average temperature: NAN Total time: 05:30:20
“This is paradise” I gushed to Liz as we walked through this spectacular national park today.
“Kondalilla” means “Rushing Water” in the Gubbi Gubbi / Kabbi Kabbi Aboriginal Language – a reference to the amazing 80m waterfall that pours out of the rainforest down to the rocks below.
What’s also special about this rainforest are the amazing Bunya Pines (Araucaria Bidwillii) which tower above the forest on ridges and hill tops all over the place. Some of them looked to be at least 70 metres high. This is the homeland of the Bunya Pine – a majestic tree so important to the Aboriginal people who have inhabited this part of the world for thousands of years.
It’s mountainous terrain – not for the faint-hearted. We climbed 300 metres during our 6km walk. But it was well worth the effort.
As an added bonus, a friendly Lace Monitor swaggered up to me and gulped down a chicken bone while I was filiming him.
The icing on the cake was the stunning views from the lookout at Montville. We were able to see all of the Sunshine Coast, including Mount Coolum and Mount Ninderry.
Yes, this is paradise, and we’re so lucky to be living in it.
Total distance: 7.58 km Total climbing: 346 m Average temperature: NAN Total time: 02:21:07
This was a huge ride, starting with a tough 5km climb at the start and a gruelling 7km climb towards the end. It was worth it for the tranquillity of being out in the bush exploring new places.
After climbing “The Goat Track” I took Lightline Road down to Lake Manchester. It’s descends steeply for about 8km, which is fun. The only problem is that what goes down must eventually come up! This is Cabbage Tree Creek which flows down from the D’Aguilar Range into Lake Manchester.
I rode back up to Mt Nebo via Cabbage Tree Range Road. I love hill climbs, but this one was hard work and just kept going for about 7km. About half way up I conked out and had a large Mars Bar to try and get going again. That’s when I spied this Prickly Pear clinging tenaciously to a rock.
Once back at the top of the range, I saw familiar looking markings on a huge Eucalyptus. I think they’re aboriginal scar marks – similar to what I saw at the Wights Mountain Bora Ring. This area is part of the traditional country of the Turrbal people and perhaps they made these marks sometime in the mid 19th century.
It was a great feeling to be back on top of the range again. The air was cooler, I knew the ride was mostly downhill from there, and the sound of the Bellbirds was magical. They really do sound like bells!
Total distance: 34.35 km Total climbing: 1229 m Average temperature: NAN Total time: 04:38:23
One fascinating story of our local area is of a fourteen year old boy named Tom Petrie who went away with the local Turrbal people for a couple of weeks to walk up to the Blackall Ranges (not far from present day Maleny, Queensland) in 1846 to celebrate the Bunya Feast.
Although a large feast happened every three years in the Bunya Mountains (midway between Dalby and Kingaroy), a smaller annual feast was held in the Blackall Ranges at what is now Baroon Pocket.
For thousands of years the feasts were an important event for Aborigines from all over what is now south east Queensland. They gathered in their hundreds to feast, dance, sing, and generally have a good time. I often wondered what it would have been like to travel back 166 years and see what young Tom saw, hear what he heard and taste some of the food he tasted.
However, thanks to the generosity of the Kabi Kabi people of Queensland’s Sunshine Coast, we were able to find out! Sometimes I’m a bit slow on the uptake and it wasn’t until we turned up that I realized that the “Bunya Dreaming” festival at Baroon Pocket was actually the same event that Tom Petrie took part in – the annual Blackall Range Bunya Feast.
The Bunya Tree produces huge cones. They can weigh anywhere from 5 to 10kg. Naturally it’s not a very wise idea to stand under a Bunya tree in summer when it’s full of cones! To harvest the nuts from a Bunya Cone, you need to first break open the cone, pull it apart, and then tease the nuts out of the green sappy flesh. One cone can have many dozen nuts in it. They’re delicious either boiled or roasted over a hot fire.
The Emu on the left was just one of the many sculptures around the picnic grounds. Lyndon is talking about the history of the Gubbi Gubbi (or Kabi Kabi) people
At the start of the Corroboree, one member took a spear, and spun it between the palms of his hands while pushing the end of it into a piece of wood on the ground. After a few seconds smoke appeared, and not long after that the tinder burst into flames. He made it look so easy!
Notice the painting on his chest – a Bunya Pine motif with the cones in the highest branches.
Liz and I enjoyed being in the moment. It was great to be around so many happy, relaxed, friendly, and generous people.
The Corroboree by “Gubbi Gubbi Dance” was spectacular. The best part was that we all got to join in at the end! Look for the strange looking guy in the white shirt with the bandy legs. Thats me 🙂
In chapter 2 of her book “Tom Petrie’s Reminiscences of Early Queensland”, Constance Campbell Petrie writes:
The bon-yi tree bears huge cones, full of nuts, which the natives are very fond of. Each year the trees will bear a few cones, but it was only in every third year that the great gatherings of the natives took place, for then it was that the trees bore a heavy crop, and the blacks never failed to know the season.
These gatherings were really like huge picnics, the aborigines belonging to the district sending messengers out to invite members from other tribes to come and have a feast. Perhaps fifteen would be asked here, and thirty there, and they were mostly young people, who were able and fit to travel. Then these tribes would ia turn ask others. For instance, the Bribie blacks (Ngunda tribe) on receiving their invitation would perchance invite the Turrbal people to join them, and the latter would then ask the Logan, or Yaggapal tribe.and other island blacks, and so on from tribe to tribe all over the country, for the different tribes were generally connected by marriage, and the relatives thus invited each other. Those near at hand would all turn up, old and young, but the tribes from afar would leave the aged and the sick behind.
My father was present at one of these feasts when a boy for over a fortnight. He is the only free white man who has ever been present at a bon-yi feast. Two or three convicts in the old days, who escaped and lived afterwards with the blacks—James Davis (” Duramboi “), Bracefield (” Wandi “), and Fahey (“Gilbury”), of course, knew all about it, but they are dead now. Father met the two former after their return to civihzation, and he has often had a yarn with the old blacks who belonged to the tribes they had lived with.
In those early days the Blackall Range was spoken of as the Bon-yi Mountains, and it was there that Duramboi and Bracefield joined in the feasts, and there also that Father saw it all. He was only fourteen or fifteen years old at the time, and travelled from Brisbane with a party of about one hundred, counting the women and children. They camped the first night at Bu-yu—ba (shin of leg), the native name for the creek crossing at what is now known as Enoggera.
…
Arriving at the Blackall Range, the party made a halt at the first bon-yi tree they came to, and a blackfellow accompanying them, who belonged to the district, climbed up the tree by means of a vine. When a native wishes to climb a tree that has no lower branches he cuts notches or steps in the trunk as he goes up, ascending with the help of a vine held round the stem. But my father’s experience has been that the blacks would never by any chance cut a bon-yi, affirming that to do so would injure the tree, and they climbed with the vine alone, the rough surface of the tree helping them.
This tree they came first upon was a good specimen, 100 feet high before a branch, and when the native climbing could reach a cone he pulled one and opened it with a tomahawk to see if it was all right. (The others said if he did not do this the nuts would be empty and worthless, and Father noticed afterwards that the first cone was always examined before being thrown to the ground.) Then the man called out that all was well, and, throwing down the cone, he broke a branch, and with it poked and knocked off other cones. As they fell to the ground, the blacks assembled below would break them up, and, taking out the nuts, put them in their dilly-bags. Afterwards they went further on, and, camping, made fires to roast the nuts, of which they had a great feed — roasted they were very nice.
…
Great times those were, and what lots of fun these children of the woods had in catching paddymelons in the scrub with their nets, also in obtaining other food, of which there was plenty, such as opossums, snakes, and other animals, turkey eggs, wild yams, native figs, and a large white grub, which was found in dead trees. These latter are as thick as one’s finger and about three inches long. They were very plentiful in the scrubs, and the natives knew at a glance where to look for them. They would eat these raw with great relish, as we do an oyster, or they would roast them. Then the young tops of the cabbage tree palm, and other palms which,
grew there, served as a sort of a vegetable, and were not bad, according to my father. The bon-yi nuts were generally roasted, the blacks preferring them so, but they were also eaten raw.
It will be seen that there was no lack of food of different kinds during a bon-yi feast ; the natives did not only live on nuts as some suppose. To them it was a real pleasure getting their food ; they were so light-hearted and gay, nothing troubled them ; they had no bills to meet or wages to pay. And there were no missionaries in those days to make them think how bad they were. Whatever their faults Father could not have been treated better,and when they came into camp of an afternoon about four o’clock, from all.directions, laden with good things—opossums, carpet snakes, wild turkey eggs, and yams — he would get his share of the best — as much as he could eat. The turkey eggs were about the size of a goose egg, and the fresh ones were taken to the white boy, while addled eggs, or those (let me whisper it) with Chickens in them, were eaten and relished by the blacks, after being roasted in the hot ashes.
My father always noticed how open-handed and generous the aborigines were. Some of us would do well to learn from them in that respect. If there were unfortunates who had been unlucky in the hunt for food, it made no difference; they did not go without, but shared equally with, the others.
