Bibbulmun Track South (part 1) ...... ..... . .. .

A cappucino at the Walpole cafe and we were on our way, wandering down through the centre of this small village to meet up with the Bibbulmun Track - and there it was, the "waugal" on its yellow triangle pointing the way. We turned east and followed the path into the Walpole-Nornalup National Park, through the melaleuca swampland that fringed Walpole Inlet, welcomed once again by a blaze of wildflower colours - whites, creams, blues of various hue, orange, pink and red.

Crossing a small flat peninsula, we emerged at Coalmine Beach on the shores of the larger Nornalup Inlet, following the shoreline along a low cliff. Every so often the tall shrubs cleared to give a view out across this wide inlet. The floral display continued with tea-trees covered in white blooms, pink callothamnus brushes and yellow pea-flowers lining the path, plus our first (and only) orchid sighting for the day - a solitary shiny-petalled blue enamel orchid.

The sound of traffic told us that the coastal highway was near, and soon we emerged from the bush to cross it and enter the world of the tall forest. The floral displays were not as intense in the forest, but the luminous light blue of dampiera and orange/pink of flame peas dotted the path as we climbed up the hillside, surrounded by the towering trunks of karri and tingle.

We passed many such large trees, some with their bases hollowed out by fire, eventually reaching the boardwalk that meandered around a grove of these giants, including the largest of all with a girth of 24m. It was a good spot for lunch.

Leaving this tourist area, the track took us back into the forest, never logged and unburnt for decades, it was a magnificent stroll in amongst the dappled shade of some of the biggest trees in Australia, listening to the songbirds and the wind above.

 

 

By the time we crossed the river, the wind was slowly picking up and rustling through the canopy. We ambled along this route for a while, eventually leaving it for a footpath through the jarrah/marri forest on the east bank of the river. Blue fanflowers of scrambling dampiera lined the path, with the occasional small pink stars of boronia or yellow flowers of hibbertias. A sleek tiger snake slithered off the track a few metres ahead at the vibration of our footsteps. The track led us back into more tingle/karri/casuarina forest, crossing several small creeks via wooden bridges. We stopped at the last one for a bite to eat as the water babbled by.

When we had finished we paid for our tickets and headed off, climbing slowly up the 600m long steel walkway until we were 40m above the valley floor, face to face with the crowns of the giant tingles. It was worth the experience just to look down on the forest for once, rather than look up.

I was impressed with the set up of the walkway, but even more impressed that I actually walked 40m above the ground on a 1m wide metal frame that swayed slightly with every step - it is a sad thing to be altitudinally challenged, especial when the fair and fearless Nello strode out and across without a care in the world.

We also followed the boardwalk through the Ancient Empire - an interpretive walkway amongst some of the giant tingle trees in this area. It was all very well done - if you can't bushwalk through the forest at your leisure, this is a good way to experience it.

I returned to the burnt area, hoping to find some orchids amongst all the new growth; success at last, several specimens of two beautiful species of spider orchid had emerged. Giants campsite was a pleasant spot, with a similar shelter to Frankland, but at ground-level. Tonight we would fall asleep, not to the sound of a gently running river, but to the sighing of the wind in the canopy of tall jarrahs above us.

 

 

 

A steep descent down the south facing slope saw us cross the South Coast Highway and leave the big forest behind. We followed an old railway alignment along its woodland path lined with melaleucas and tea-trees, and dotted with ground- flowering plants of every kind.

The fearless grey fantail

Farmland neighbouring the Nut Block

The track now led us down through a recently burnt out area that was awash with new plant growth and wildflowers of every shape, colour and form. It was simply brilliant and did not end, as we wandered in and out of low casuarina and coastal mallee woodlands and areas of open swampy heath.

Eventually, the track brought us to the broad gravel Ficifolia Road, named after the magnificent red-flowering gums that line it; summer - autumn bloomers, they would be one of the few floral sights that we would miss on this trip.

After a short distance on the road, we left to head into an area of low swampy heath, dotted with white, cream and yellow flowers - the first coastal banksia appeared amongst the melaleucas. Flat swamplands gave way to densely vegetated old coastal dunes, and soon we found ourselves undulating up and over sets of sand ridges, climbing, following the ridge then descending to cross over to the next dune.

With the overstorey yet to be replaced in burnt out areas, the smaller flowering shrubs and herbs had taken advantage of their opportunity to proliferate and bloom. At times it was like walking through a country garden - orchids, trigger plants, daisies, boronias, lilies, fanflowers, melaleucas, pea-flowers and myriad others all competing for our attention.

Crossing through the sword sedge of one last swampy interdune valley, we followed the next sharp dune ridge along until, eventually, the deep blue of the Southern Ocean came into view.

The sun was battling with grey clouds and the cold south-easterly was slowly strengthening by the time that we reached Conspicuous Beach and, before descending the wooden steps to have lunch at the beach shelter, we retrieved our buried stash of food. Tonight, despite what the weather would bring, we would eat well!

From the lunch spot, we descended onto the beach towards the imposing profile of Conspicuous Cliffs. A short walk in the soft white sand and a long climb up through the foredunes saw the start of our ascent up to the cliff top.

This area had also been burnt and in places the heath shrublands had regenerated so densely that we were walking through a tunnel in otherwise impenetrable 3m high scrub, in other places the regrowth was shorter, but sharp-leaved acacias had almost closed off the track, while in more exposed areas, the regrowth was lower and riot of pimelea pink and scaevola blue.

Reaching the high point just behind the cliffs we undulated slowly downwards to Rame Head Campsite, set in the heath behind the headland of the same name, with superb views eastward along the coast to Point Irwin and across to Irwin Inlet and Foul Bay.

However, the grey skies had won the day and the south-easterly was now blustering and cold. We settled into the shelter, partially protected by a glassed wall on the open easterly side. Reading the shelter logbook, other had fared far worse on this exposed headland, with tales of drenched people barely able to stand in gale-force winds as they struggled up to the campsite. For this and for the great day we felt content. It had been a slow and pleasant trip from forest to sea.

As evening approached we were joined by two Queensland women heading in the opposite direction from Peaceful Bay - the first time that we had shared a site with fellow Bibbulmun Track walkers and it was pleasant to share experiences with nice companions.

 

 

Leaving the 4WD track, a footpath took us on an undulating trip through the sand dunes, climbing up to the of of a steep dune for impressive views towards the sea, over pale green new heath and grey patches of old dead shrubs, burnt in the fire. Descending we crossed paths with the first dugite of the day, its tail disappearing into the heath as we rounded a corner.

Bull banksia cone

The track in this dune section was often overgrown, but eventually led us to that unique Western Australian feature - a boot-cleaning station in the bush. We took a breather and scrubbed away, continuing on with the soles of our boots squeaky clean and certified phytophthora-free.

Soon we were crossing a low swampy area, where a series of boardwalks suggested that the water level was often a lot higher than the present. Today we were treated to a display of white and pink flower-spikes dotted throughout the dry swampland.

Leaving this flat area, we climbed up through the dunes to emerge at The Gap, a break in the cliff-line leading to a beautiful rock-dotted sandy beach with superb views back towards Rame Head. It was a great place to stop and soak our feet in the refreshingly cold sea water as we watched the big waves roll in.

Eventually we had to push on and, wandering behind a rocky platform to cross a boulder-strewn beach, we were accompanied by the sound of the surf and the big seas crashing onto the rocks in explosions of foam.

The track now led us back up through the sand dunes, covered in thick unburnt heath with only the odd flowering herb along the path. From the dunes, the climb continued up the red and grey granite-gneiss rocks of Castle Rock at the summit of Point Irwin, with its spectacular views back along our path to the west and towards our destination at Peaceful Bay in the north.

The top of Castle Rock was a veritable rock garden with small wind-sheared shrubs tucked in amongst the red granitic boulders. On the descent, we encountered several other plants that only grow in these granitic soils (and just when we thought that we had seen them all!).

Soon after we met our second snake for the day. This dugite had not heard that snakes are meant to slither rapidly away and lay along the path eyeballing us for a few minutes. Only an Irish jig by the fair Nello managed to chase it into the bush (I confess that it almost made me jump into the bush as well!). Continuing our progress northward, we crossed a succession of shelly beaches, lined with rocks covered in brilliantly orange lichen, until eventually we reached Soft Beach. Fortunately, it did not live up to its name and the intertidal sand was quite firm - we made rapid progress alongside the translucent green water of this protected beach.

Crossing a dune at the end of Soft Beach, we overlooked the equally limpid green and calm waters of Peaceful Bay - peaceful by name, peaceful by nature. It was only a short distance up the pathway to the Caravan Park, where we had booked in for a day's break. Two nights in the comfort of a real bed in our little green van, a great feed of fish and chips at the local shop and a cold beer that we left in our food stash at the park - luxury!!

Continued in Part 2 (Peaceful Bay to Denmark)