Tuesday, October 2, 2012

Karijini National Park - Pilbara Region



The Auski Roadhouse on the way into the Karijini National Park. The last opportunity to refill and restock. This day was a frenzy of roadtrains, semi-trailers, cars and caravans and a wild swirling red dust storm.

Once inside the huge national park it became evident why it is becoming so famous for its unbelievably beautiful gorges and waterways.
This is still the dry season before these areas become impassable but it must be impressive when the waterfalls and gorges start to roar in the wet season.
Fern Pool.
Not too difficult a hike to get there but still a challenge that was worth it in the end.
AND! the best part?

NO BLOODY CROCODILES.

We swam here and it was just fantastic.
The towering cliff edges seemed to be stacked together like a leggo block. Large sections of these rock formations were slowly but surely cracking away from the main structure ready to fall into the gorge.

These two pictures are of Dales Gorge. A series of crystal clear pools cascading down into the valley.
We camped at Dales Campground. This campground is a series of red dirt loops with parking bays off them. We were parked in Kangaroo Loop with our very own outback drop toilet nearby. Lucky us.
This is the red dirt airstrip that our son Christopher landed his plane during a stopover at the Eco Centre in the Karijini National Park.
At the time he was a pilot operating out of Exmouth.
Underneath the overhang that Michele is sitting on we discovered ancient Aboriginal artwork.
Not to be outdone I painted a few of my own.
Once down the mountainside we began our trek along the gorge basin. This particular one was called Weano Gorge.
Walking through the cavernous walls of Weano Gorge.
The Handrail Pool at the end of Weano Gorge. After this you needed abseiling gear.

Walking back from the Handrail Pool so called because you can only traverse it by hanging on for dear life to the handrail.

We could only imagine the picture and the roar of water that would rush through these narrow walls in the wet season.

A few years ago a man called Jim (Irish) Regan was killed during a rescue attempt in the gorge when a flash flood trapped  hikers.






I think I saw God.

It was so peaceful and quiet standing amongst these towering cliff edges.

How is the camouflage on this Monitor Lizard?


Looking down into the path we have to take to get to the bottom of one of the gorges.
One of the lookouts where the four gorges intersect. According to the tourist information signage, 2600 million years ago, the top of these gorges where the bottom of the ocean bed.
On my way down into Handcock's Gorge. The first rung is a bitch. You hang by your chin and flay you legs around trying to locate the rung before you ease yourself down into the abyss.
Only people with long necks and strong chins are encouraged to tackle this gorge.
Kermit Pool near the end of Handcock Gorge.

There is something about rushing water, being on your own and mother nature that makes one a tad frisky.


Had to swim the last leg into the sandy bay of the Handcock Gorge.
The rock formation makes for perfect stepping stones into the bottom of some of the gorges otherwise it is a fairly steep and challenging process.
Not quite visible here but the water tank and hose is teeming with bees. We had to replenish our water supply and ever so slowly fill these containers. When this photo was taken, my feet were being overrun with black ants. I wasn't sure whether to make a run for it and let Michele fill up the tanks or just man up and do it for Mother England.