The flowers of the Pilbara are quite different from those of the Kimberley

We set up camp at Dale’s campsite,  pleasantly spread out beneath the scrubby acacias and low eucalypts of this plateau. After lunch, we wandered down to the edge of nearby Dale’s Gorge to be greeted by a spectacular sight; the iron-red, finely-layered gorge walls dropped suddenly from the plateau to the creek bed – white-trunked eucalypts scattered along its rim. Below, the Fortescue Falls flowed down one side of a series of natural steps, a bit like an ancient Greek amphitheatre, except that the stage here was a beautiful, clear, reed-fringed and icy cold plunge pool. It was time for the play to begin, so we jumped in to join a couple of other cast members who had braved the water – bracing stuff! The pools of the Pilbara are certainly a few degrees cooler than those of the Kimberley.

Brightly coloured honeyeaters flitted by as we then wandered further up the gorge, while high above a colony of fruit bats squabbled in the river gums. After a few hundred metres, we reached Fern Pool, an even more beautiful turquoise-colored waterhole, lined with lush vegetation, backed by sunlit red cliffs and fed by a small twin waterfall. Behind the falls, a small ledge was filled with bright, soft green ferns – giving the pool its name.

It would have been a very tranquil setting, but for the fact that the water here is warmer and a dozen or more people were happily splashing about and enjoying themselves. What the heck – we joined them. It would be very hard to come here and not have a swim.

We did not hear the usual dawn chorus of birds this morning, but a much more visceral greeting to the new day. Around 5am, a pack of dingos wandered through the campsite, their low whinings reaching a multi-voiced crescendo of harmonious howling somewhere near our bushcamper. I knew that dingos didn’t bark, but I didn’t know that they sang.

Our second surprise came upon awakening. The stars had been replaced by a grey overcast sky and, what was that strange sound on the roof – the soft pitter patter of raindrops.

We hung around for a while, had a cuppa and, when the odd light showers appeared to have ended, we set out on our exploration of Dale’s Gorge. Our bushcamper was in the “Euro Loop” of the campground, so we headed out from there to pick up a wide, gravelly red track that led us through the yellow spinifex seedheads, past shrubby acacias and white-barked snappy gums. Several of the acacias were flowering; golden and reddish balls, or spikes of fragrantly perfumed blossom. Red holly-leafed grevilleas, blue and purple solanum, and several low herbaceous plants were also in bloom. The day was bright despite the grey skies.

We soon reached the gorge rim and a viewing platform looking directly down onto Circular Pool 60m beneath; a dark blue waterhole at the end of a side-gorge. How inviting it looked at the base of those rich red cliffs! We headed on, following the track to another viewpoint “Threeways Lookout”, overlooking the point where the side gorge merged into the winding Dale’s Gorge.

A little way further on we found what we were seeking – the route down. A series of stone steps led us down the steep gorge wall to reach the creek at the bottom of the side gorge – an amazing landscape of flat rock plates, seemingly stacked to create a series of terraces, on which lay huge amorphous boulders that had fallen down from above. We followed a set of yellow dots across the blocks and terraces, past the boulders and up the tree-lined stream to reach the sanctuary of Circular Pool. It was even better than when viewed from above.

Set in a grotto with sheer rock walls on three sides, the fourth barricaded by  a jumble of pastel-tinted boulders, lay a deep blue, crystal clear and glacial pool, fringed by trees and ferns and spring-fed by a gentle waterfall trickling out of the cliffside. The structure and composition of the rockwalls was fascinating – red from afar, the layers were comprised of different shades of red, yellow, blue, grey and tan.

Crossing the shallow stream on a set of stepping stones, we resumed our route up the gorge, past reed-fringed waterholes, gentle cascades, always clinging to the base of the magnificent rock-walls. At every step there was something to interest or fascinate; a flash of yellow as a honeyeater flew by, butterflies flitting amongst the tall grass, a black termite tube heading up the white barked trunk of a eucalypt, the flaking sheets on the trunk of a paperbark and, always, the ever-changing patterns of layering and colours in the rockface.

We skirted around the pool to spend some time contemplating it from the rock amphitheatre steps, before heading onto Fern Pool (or Jaburu as the local aboriginals know it). It was our last chance for a swim in this beautiful setting with the twin waterfalls flowing into a long turquoise pool.

Then it was back again to the top of Fortescue Falls, before climbing up and out of the gorge along a track lined with grey-needled callitris pines. The track then led us back along the open landscape of the gorge rim, from where we could look down on our path just traveled. When the sun appeared the red rock walls glowed, but there was a battle going on up there and, in the end, the clouds won the day. By the time that we had reached “The Threeways Lookout” to complete the circuit, the first drops of rain began to fall. Still, it was warm and the shower was light, not unpleasant walking at all, though we were pleased to see the awning of our bushcamper and brew up a nice hot coffee.

Overnight the dingos repeated their serenade, but much further from our campsite. The clouds had slowly disappeared and the sun was back by dawn along with a heavy dew. Thousands of dew-dropped spider webs were sparkling in the early morning light - delicate cups in the spinifex, silken chandeliers strung in branches and silvery shawls draped between trees. It was amazing to see just how many spiders there are in the bush.

We were also joined for breakfast by a female dingo, which curled up and had a nap at our feet as we ate our cereal. On the downside, our front tyre was flat, which delayed our departure, but eventually we got away and headed off down the wide red gravel roads of Karajini - our goal to explore some of the other gorges of this picturesque national park.

The first was Kalamina Gorge, with walls of ca 30m high, not as deep as Dale's, but with its own charms. We descended the stone steps that led us to its floor, making a short detour upstream to visit the waterfall percolating down a wide rock stairway. A few metres further, the stream cascaded over a small rock ledge into a long translucent green pool.

View down the top of the gorge from the falls

Below the pool, the gorge opened out into a broader basin, where soft grasses and reeds grew along the boggy watercourse that meandered its way across a gorge floor, comprised primarily of flat rock slabs. The vegetation wedged itself into the cracks on the rock or clung to the shallow patches of gravelly soil.

The rugged red walls soon narrowed and the stream flowed shallowly across a bed of rock. Warmed by the sun, it was an ideal environment for the algae which thrived and gave the water a greenish tinge. We stopped to investigate and admire the amazing colours in the sedimentary bands of rock. Beyond this constriction, grasses and sedges again appeared and a couple of narrow side-gorges split the walls to emerge into Kalamina.

The path clung to the rocks at the base of the cliff, crossing the swampy bed of the stream a couple more times to eventually reach a long pale green pool. At its far end, the gorge walls constricted again to reveal the silhouette of an arch - we had reached Rock Arch Pool and the end of the track into Kalamina Gorge.

There are a number of tracks in this area and we combined some to create a mini-circuit of the gorges. The first stop of our walk was the Junction Pool Lookout, 100m directly above a long waterhole at the intersection of Joffre, Hancock, Weano and Red Gorges. Less than 50m further on, Oxer Lookout gave an impressive panorama of this meeting of gorges.

We could see right up the deeply shaded throat of Joffre Gorge, following it as it merged into Red Gorge, aptly named as the sun lit up the higher parts of its walls in brilliant shades of red. Behind, to the north, the narrow cleft of Weano Gorge meandered down through the rolling spinifex hills to open out into Red Gorge. Behind, to the south, Hancock Gorge similarly curved its way to merge with the others - overall, an incredible display of the power of running water.

We wandered back along the ridge in between Hancock and Weano Gorges, before turning south to follow a path that led, increasingly steeply, down into Hancock Gorge. A metal ladder on the rock wall quickly took us the last few metres down to the gorge floor.

From the bottom of the ladder, we followed a series of well-spaced yellow dots, skirting a long reflective waterhole via a narrow ledge. The dots soon turned to blue (the walks here are colour-coded to indicate the degree of difficulty; green is for anyone, yellow is rougher, blue is getting seriously difficult and red means only expert well-equipped canyoners should proceed).

The gorge walls gradually narrowed and we reached a point where we had to take off our sandals and wade through a thigh-deep waterhole in a passage only a few metres wide. It was only the start - the next waterhole was narrower, longer, deeper and colder - it was time to leave our packs, change into our bathers, and brave the icy water if we wanted to see more of this gorge.

Emerging on a stony beach that transformed quickly into a small rocky cascade, we reached a small sunlit chamber. Here the stream sped rapidly down a narrow rock chute less than a metre wide, bubbling its way into the unseen depths of the gorge beyond - we had reached a section called "the spider walk" for the manner in which it has to be negotiated. Only having wet bare feet for traction, we called it a day. From here, exploration of Hancock Gorge enters the realm of the canyoner, equipped with wetsuit, helmet, ropes and rubber boots. Still, it was incredible to have come this far and to really appreciate the beautiful sculpture of water on stone.

Dried and changed, we retreated from Hancock Gorge and set out to explore neighbouring Weano Gorge. Instead of dropping directly into it, we followed a track outward along the spinifex covered slopes that line its rim, past giant termite mounds and small shrubby acacias with sweetly scented golden blossoms. This led us to the upper section where the gorge was just beginning to deepen, its wide floor covered with grasses, sedges and paperbarks that lined a marshy stream.

The yellow dots took us deeper into Weano, passing several waterholes that reflected its rich red walls when the the sun broke in. These walls became narrower and higher as we penetrated further, until we finally reached a point where the waterhole blocked the width of the gorge floor - sandals off and a cold wade.

A tranquil tree lined pool in Weano

On the track again after a bit of a wade

At the next waterhole, we inched our way around the base rocks to reach a point where the gorge narrowed dramatically and the stream disappeared into a narrow crack. This was the point to leave packs, don swimwear and enter a world of red - we followed the stream into the crack, skirting a small 5m diameter pool to enter an even narrower slot, less than a metre wide and 50m below the gorge rim. The stream at our feet raced down the narrow rocky chute to disappear out of the opening at the end of the crack.

When we reached the end of this slippery passage, we could see that it had tumbled down a 5m waterfall into a wide and deep circular pool, lined with sheer sunless rock walls. In the strange reflected half-light, the walls seemed redder than ever. We had reached Handrail Pool and it was an eerily beautiful sight. The way down into this barren amphitheatre was via a metal hand rail (hence the name) and then a knotted rope.

It was good to see the sunrise as, for the first time on our trip, we had felt cold as we slept; the clear night sky had sucked the warmth out of the land. However, the morning warmed up quickly and we were on our way, making a 50km detour to the mining town of Tom Price to get our flat tyre repaired - strangely, it did not have a puncture - the outback is full of mysteries. Still, it gave us a chance for cappuccino and emails.

Heading north, we had one last stop in mind - one last gorge in Karajini - Hamersley Gorge. Hamersley is very different again, not as deep, but with multi-coloured walls that showed dramatically the tortuous folding of the sedimentary layers that form the rock here. To cap it off, Hamersley has a series of easily accessible pools within a very short distance.

The uppermost, a tiny 2m diameter spa pool beneath a small waterfall set in a smooth-sculpted rock channel lined by jagged, tilting shards of layered shale, flowed into a clear, deep green rock pool. Several cascades, further down, the stream formed a long waterhole, shallow at one end, but becoming very deep and cold as it entered a narrow section of the gorge. It was a particularly pleasant spot to spend an hour or two before heading on.