Right now it’s hard to blog about the Flinder’s Ranges and to recall the joy I felt there when I am sitting in a sort of boring National Park at the bottom of the Eyre Peninsula. I have to put myself back there, amid the perfect 30 degree days with the bluest skies and the flies and the kangaroos and the wedge tailed eagles. I have to forget that the Nullabor Plain lurks like a shadow in the near distance, waiting patiently for our arrival and recreate the peace and harmony and beauty that was inspired by Flinders.
It was beautiful that’s for sure.
The weather was perfect, and they had just had a couple of days of rain which was enough to put out all the fires and settle the dust. It also had caused a bit of flash flooding and all the creek crossings had been up very recently. This one hadn’t quite gone down yet.
As we drove nearer, and wondered about where to stay we kept passing some odd looking road kill that looked a bit like a Tasmanian Tiger!
We later discovered that this was the remains of the rare yellow-footed rock-wallaby as they have a long stripy tail. There musn’t be many left judging by the numbers dead on the highway! As the wonderful Wedge Tailed Eagle took off from the dead wallaby it made the crows around it look as tiny as finches.
We had a gorgeous campsite surrounded by those huge old river gums,
the type that has inspired generations of artists including Hans Heysen who you are reminded of a lot down here.
You can do a walk in his memory along the 1200kms from Jervis Bay, through the Flinder’s Ranges and beyond.
Along the way there are these little huts to shelter in.
We just calculated, if you walked non-stop, it would take you about 40 days. Though for us, trying to coax the boys along, probably without shoes, more like 40 years.
There’s not enough Freddos in all of the world for the bribes we would need!
At the back of our campsite, there was a stony hill from which you could enjoy a spectacular panorama of Wilpena Pound.
It was spectacular from every angle, but we suspect that the scenic flights were even more so, due to the constant drone of the single engine planes at dawn and dusk.
Our hill was good enough for us to climb with a bottle of Barossa red, our Bose speaker with some nice tunes and our beautiful family for a sunset dance.
It was one of those absurd moments of joy where you just love the ones you are with and you realise the enormity of what we are undertaking, and have to have a moment to soak it all in.
But right then, it was all about us and Wilpena!
A scenic drive through some gorges, some more amazing vistas, topped by a picnic lunch.
Another perfect day. But unfortunately the park was about to undergo some routine pest control where they lay heaps of baits for the foxes so the campgrounds were closing down for a few days.
We enjoyed one more morning of the most wonderful cacophany of morning birdsong worthy of a massage therapist’s waiting room. The best part of the campsite was, it was totally free! Yeehah!
The hills were green and red and purple and orange and the atmosphere was perfect. What a place!