A year in paradise

It is my one year anniversary since moving to Brisbane. I've spent most of the year being quite negative about the sunshine state, so I thought it must be time to reflect on some of the fun stuff we've done in the past 12 months and share a few photos.

These were some of the highlights.....

We headed down to Girraween just before Easter last year. Stepping out of the car at 9 o'clock at night was quite a shock to our newly acclimatised selves. Time to bring out the down jackets! We spent a very pleasant weekend wandering amongst wonderful rock formations and surveying the granite belt from amazing rocky outcrops. We stopped in Stanthorpe on the way home and filled our car with fresh market produce. My only regret is not making it to Applethorpe. Despite never having been there, this small country town is my favourite place in all of Queensland, mainly because it consistently records the lowest overnight temperature in the state, but also because it has such a great name!



Springbrook National Park is an old favourite. It is the wettest part of South East Queensland, and home to lush rainforest, stunning waterfalls, lots of lyrebirds and pademelons. I thought this old strangler fig looked quite spectacular in the morning mist - quite eerie and Tolkienish. We also found a massive carpet python that had recently devoured a small marsupial sunning itself in the middle of the path, and the biggest yabby I have ever seen!









Paddling on Pumistone Passage is a great excuse for a cruisy weekend. This narrow body of water separates Bribie Island from the mainland, and is only a hop, skip and a jump from Brisbane. Views of the Glasshouse Mountains from the water are fabulous! We just headed up for the day, but there's a lovely campsite right on the beach which is only accessible by boat. Beware of the numerous sandmonsters (giant bull ants) though!


Visting Green Mountains is like entering another world. Forming part of the scenic rim, this area is a remnant of an ancient shield volcano. The drive up the escarpment is wonderfully dramatic. The vegetation suddenly changes from dry eucalypt forest to sub-tropical rainforest, and hidden away are groves of antarctic beech trees, festooned with mosses and ferns. One highlight for me was seeing a regent bowerbird for the first time. These stunning birds congregate every morning for feeding time at O'Reilly's Rainforest Guesthouse.

Mt Barney is a bushwalker's paradise. Although not the highest peak in South East Queensland (that honour goes to Mt Superbus), it is certainly the most spectacular. At 1359m, the mountain is often obscured by cloud, so we made sure to choose a beautiful clear day. Joel had been to the summit twice previously in wild, wet weather and hadn't seen a thing. We climbed up via the South-East ridge, which is almost knife edge thin in places. It's rugged country, and I soon felt horrendously unfit as we trudged up the steep slope. But the views were definitely worth the effort. This photo, taken from near the top, looks out towards Mt Lindesay, another awesome-looking volcanic plug.




In June, we were privileged to spend a weekend sailing around Moreton Bay on our friend's lovely boat, Anitra. It was the first time she'd been out on the bay since having some major renovations done. The feeling of unfurling the sails and cutting the motor for the first time was truly amazing. I'd never sailed anywhere before and the whole experience was quite thrilling. We watched a beautiful sunset over the bay and spent plenty of time lazing, swimming and eating.









The Bunya mountains in the middle of winter was our substitute for snow camping this year! And yes, we did use our down jackets again. It was surprisingly cold overnight, but of course a great excuse to enjoy a roaring campfire. Nevertheless we turned in soon after 7pm, there's nothing better than snuggling in a tent on a cold winter's night! The next day we were still finding ice in hollows beside the trail well after midday.



To celebrate Joel's 30th birthday we planned to walk the Great Walk on Fraser Island. Our preparations were almost thwarted at the last minute by some wild weather on the Fraser Coast. At 10pm on the evening before our departure, we were notified by the parks authorities that the whole island was closed until further notice. What should we do?! Well, we decided to go anyway.

Our friends Andrei and Susannah were flying in to Hervey Bay that morning, so we drove up to meet them at the airport and commiserate together. While our friends took a whale watching tour the following day, Joel and I defied the regulations and started off on our walk. There had been over 800mm of rain recorded in a single day, but being a sand island the water soaked straight through, and even storm damage was barely noticible on the western side of the island. In some respects, that first day was the best. The island was still officially closed, so there were no 4WD tours to contend with, and we were lucky enough to have beautiful Lake McKenzie to ourselves.

After meeting our friends the next day we spent another 5 days wandering on sandy tracks that wound through heathland, tall satinay trees, pockets of palm forest and crystal clear waters. Each night we camped beside a lake, all of which were quite unique in their colouring and character. A memorable evening was spent on the lookout over Lake Wabby, watching a lunar eclipse with a crazy German traveller. Our walk finished at Happy Valley, where we spent a couple of lazy days eating steak and chips at the Satinay Bar and Bistro.

We chose a nice rainy day to visit the Lower Portals near Mt Barney. This name refers to a spot on Mt Barney Creek where granite walls squeeze the creek through a narrow opening. As the gorge opens out again, it forms a great summer swimming hole. With lots of rain in the past few months, water levels were high and the vegetation was lush and glossy. We had a quick dip and some lunch before retracing our footsteps in the misty rain.





Later in the summer we discovered a lovely campsite on the Main Range, only an hour or so from home, called Spicer's Gap. We didn't have an adequate map to attempt the rough walk to Spicer's Peak, but instead chose to hike up nearby Mt Mitchell. This easy graded trail leads to a stunning summit crowned with grass trees and antarctic beech. Panoramic views reveal the folded fabric of the Main Range to the north and south, and lots of interesting peaks further east.






Bald Rock is actually just over the border in NSW, but I reckon it's so close it still counts! It adjoins Girraween National Park, and forms part of the same granite belt. This massive slab of rock dominates the landscape and provides lots of fun scrambling opportunities. It also provides lots of rocky shelves and small crevices where the Cunningham's skinks love to hide. As you can see, we had some fun with the timer function on Joel's camera!

And so ends my first year in Brisbane. Looking back on all the awesome places we've visited and fantastic experiences we've had in the past 12 months, I can't help but feel satisfied that we've made the most of our new surroundings. There is certainly a lack of familiar faces amongst these pictures though, and I've struggled a lot with the feeling of distance and separation from my friends and family. The new year will bring lots of new adventures though, not least of which is my impending marriage in April to the love of my life!

Christmas Canyons II

The temptation was too great. Despite the prospect of 30 long hours on the highway, we couldn't resist another summer canyoning trip to the Bluies. It lived up to every expectation and once again we left feeling energised, inspired and rejuvenated.

After a hectic few days over Christmas, we left northern NSW on boxing day morning, already running 'late' after forgetting to change our clocks forward from Queensland time. I felt tired and grumpy at the thought of being cooped up in the car all day. It wasn't until we started to wind our way up the mountains that a sense of excitement slowly built up inside. On reaching Katoomba and stepping into the fresh mountain air, I couldn't wipe the grin from my face. Ahhh.... the beautiful Bluies. We were back.

With two lamb roasts and one tray of mangoes, we were soon on our way to Mt Wilson. The campground was bathed in glorious late afternoon sunshine as we chose a peaceful spot to pitch our tents. As the twilight gathered, our friends slowly arrived.

The consensus the next morning was for a quick trip through Yileen canyon. It was unexplored territory for all ten of us. The hillsides were unusually green for mid-summer and awash with a host of gorgeous wildflowers. As soon as we dropped off the walk-in ridge we were met with a lovely meandering creek of sandstone pebbles and sculpted rock walls. There was very little debris cluttering our route, having been flushed out by a recent flood. Moss, ferns and orchids clung to the sides of the canyon, decorating the rock corridor. The water was warmer than I expected, and while everyone else changed into wetsuits I decided I was happy in shorts and a t-shirt.

After a pleasant stroll through this delightful canyon, we descended through a dark slot and were suddenly graced with expansive views of the Grose valley. Sitting on an exposed boulder at the top of the final 60m abseil, we watched as dark thunder clouds rolled in from the east. Getting ten people down a long abseil takes time, and as we waited patiently for each person to descend a cold wind blew in with the storm. We were soon treated to a dramatic show of lighting in the valley beyond. By the time I slid down the rope, spray from the waterfall was blowing in all directions and I was regretting my lack of wetsuit.

Sheltering in a sandstone cave just beyond the base of the waterfall we shivered out of our wet clothes and enjoyed a quiet lunch while watching sheets of water fall outside our rocky refuge. The storm was short-lived, and we quickly worked up a sweat as we climbed back to the car in the warm humid air.

The following day saw us heading out to Newnes Plateau to explore Breakfast Creek canyon. It should have been a short easy walk from the car, but I decided that the track was heading in the wrong direction, so instead we took a scrubby shortcut through the thick prickly undergrowth. My friends weren't very impressed with all the bush-bashing, but somehow we emerged exactly at the top of the first abseil - what a fluke!

The water in this system was colder, and the creek much scrubbier than our previous day's walk. This time I didn't hesitate to wear my wetsuit. I volunteered to go first down the spectacular main drop which disappeared into a dark mossy cleft in the rock. It felt like ages since I'd set up ropes and I fumbled incompetantly at the top trying to untangle and throw down the rope. Eventually sorting it out, I felt the excited buzz of descending into the unknown. It was a lovely abseil, finishing with a second short drop into a dark pool of water.

We followed Breakfast Creek to its junction with Rocky Creek, then slowly made our way upstream. We passed two separate groups of canyoners who had come through Rocky Creek and were looking for the exit track. It was rather disturbing to realise they had no idea where they were and had unknowingly passed their intended exit several hundred metres further upstream. We tried to convince them to turn around, as it was looking like a long wet night for them otherwise. There aren't many possible exit gullies in that part of the gorge.

On reaching the obvious big bend in the river which marks the exit route, we drew arrows in the sand and hoped the other groups would make it out safely. Instead of taking the quick exit ourselves, we decided to continue through the magificent upper section of Rocky Creek. On entering the canyon proper, we were greeted with a huge cathedral-like chamber, where the sun filtered through in a few narrow shafts of light. I floated backwards on my pack, gliding gently through the spectacular darkness.

With lots of rain this summer water levels were high and the waterfalls were absolutely pumping. We were lucky in that a guided group coming down the canyon had fixed lots of handlines which we used to climb around the pounding sections of whitewater. There was a great slab, perfect for sliding into the pool below. Most of us went down feet first, but action-man Devin insisted (despite cautions about submerged rocks) on going down face first, thankfully without incident. All that remained was a short climb back to the cars and another delicious roast for dinner.


Day three started with a lot of stuffing around and indecision. Finally we decided on a easy trip through Du Faur canyon. What a beautiful sunny day! Absolutely perfect canyon weather. We lazed in the water and admired droplets of water splashing down the cliff face and exploding in a burst of watery sunlight. Looking up at the sky I could almost imagine it was snowing. The sandstone walls were bathed in a rosy glow of pinks and oranges and delicate greenery created beautiful fairy bowers. We stopped for an early lunch on a sandy bank beside a great swimming hole, before continuing to wander, splash and li-lo our way downstream. An early exit up Joe's canyon was a beautiful way to end a gorgeous day in the mountains.


There was talk around the campfire that night of an early dash through Claustral in the morning. I've been wanting to check out Claustral ever since I started canyoning about 10 years ago. Unfortunately the practicalities of getting back to Sydney, Canberra and Wollongong intervened, so it will have to keep its mysteries for another year.