Australia — The Hike to Mitchell Falls

OK. I’m relentless. Once I get ambulatory, I don’t slow down except to take a photograph, which happens with frequency. Or…step behind a tree because I drink too much coffee to keep up my crazy pace.

Couple things to know: My camera backpack and tripod add about 28 pounds to my body.

So, that brings us to Mitchell Falls. My guide and I drove to the trailhead from the Mitchell Falls Wilderness Lodge early in the morning, arriving around 7:30 am. Proper hiking boots, water wicking socks and plenty of hydration. We were headed to one of the Kimberly Region of Western Australia’s top attractions, which like most top Australian attractions, is in the middle of a pristine wilderness. Most people hike in and take a helicopter out. But not us. The last chopper leaves the park at 3 pm, long before the sun sets, and I didn’t want to be rushed for photography reasons. My guide, by the way, was accustomed to leading hikes with “elder” individuals as a “leisurely” pace.

Off we go. Along the way we pass through lovely woodlands of livistona palm trees and lots of fragrant eucalyptus. My guide shows me mermaid aboriginal rock art and rock art behind a waterfall called Little Mertons Waterfall. After shooting images for an hour, we swim in the pool at the foot of the falls, following the cooling off traditions that began thousands of years ago with the local Wunambai people that first inhabited this plateau. The water felt perfectly cool, not cold. I indulged as long as I journalistically needed, then we had to move on. We had several miles still to go.

We next hiked right over Big Mertens Falls. Now, for all the American travelers reading this, note: no hand rails, no handicap access, no safety rails. And, Big Mertons falls several hundred feet over a sheer  cliff that I precariously, and probably insanely, dangled myself from to get the shot you see above.

The rest of the hike went at a furiously pace so that we could see Mitchell Falls, the main attraction. My guide had a secret place to show me. We hiked through two rivers and up cliffs to a lookout spot that was absolutely perfect and remote and offered almost a birds-eye view of the massive and I must note, stunning falls. The only problem was my guide had misadvised me about the way the falls would be lit in the late afternoon. They were in complete shadow. Yikes! Sometimes this happens in travel journalism. When it does it’s not good for photography. I took a few shots to make my guide feel like she’d done good, while inside I fumed at her misinformation. Oh, well. In the end, I actually like the drama of Big Mertons and the delicacy of Little Mertons better. At least, that’s what I’m telling myself.

On the way out, since the light had dipped low and we couldn't stop to shoot in order to get out of the part before dark, we rushed out at such a pace, that my guide had to stop several times to catch her breath. 

My digs: Mitchell Falls Wilderness Lodge, aptouring.com.au

Australia — Bungle Bungles

Dingo, as in, "...a dingo ate my baby!" from the Meryl Streep movie, A Cry in the Dark.

Mini Palms Gorge, Traditional Aboriginal Birthing Cave — see two male hikers on bottom left of  the image give the massive scale of the cavern.

Bungle Bungles

Bungle Bungles

Mini Palms Gorge

Echidna Gorge, see hiker at bottom

Entrance to Echidna Gorge. Again, two hiker at bottom give scale.

Some of the mini palms and Mini Palm Gorge.

Mini Palm Gorge.

Australia — Bungle Bungles

I really just like saying Bungle Bungles, weaving it into normal daily conversation, as in, “I remember when I was in the Bungles and we happened upon a wild dingo …” Which, my guide and I did. It was her first dingo, and all I could think of when I saw it was the line from A Cry in the Dark when Meryl Streep wails, “A dingo at my baby!”  And, as cool as I was told it was to see a dingo, it looks a bit like a lean German shepphard. The aboriginal name certainly makes it cooler and more authentic: Warrigal or Noggum or Boolomo, depending upon dialect. When I read up on dingos, the Dog Breed Info Center said they didn’t make good companions because, “untrained dingos … cannot easily be obedience trained.” Um, duh, right? Anyway, we saw one on our way to the Kungkalahayi Lookout.

The lookout was nice, but I wanted to get into the unique rock formations, which are abundant in this park, which also goes by the proper name of Purnululu, almost as much fun as saying, bungle.

We zipped off to Mini Palms Gorge, with its red rock canyon and giant palms. Yes, giant. After a stunning walk into the canyon, the trail ends at an overlook of a traditional aboriginal birthing place, a cavern. The crevice in the rock that leads to the cavern leaves no doubt to the female reference. It was hard to see the scale until two MEN can out of the dark slit in the rock. Check it out in the image. The place was massive. 

But, as cool as that was, the more surreal was Echidna Gorge, a narrow slot of a canyon, that glowed an ethereal orange for the entirety of the hike.

After that, with light running out, we hurried around the range to the beehive dome shaped rocks that make up the proper bungles. They’re sandstone that has been sculpted by water through the centuries. The light and dark striations, and otherworldly mounds make them particularly dramatic. I was only in the park for once day, which was about two weeks to few from my camera’s perspective.

Where I stayed: Bungle Bungle Wilderness Lodge: kimberlywilderness.com.au 

Australia — The Wild West of Osprey Reef & the Ribbon Reefs

I’m gonna let the images tell the story here, but here’s a quick brief on this electric corner of the world. Osprey Reef is like the wild west — it’s a seamount in the middle of nowhere in the Coral Sea east of the Lizard Island and the Great Barrier Reef. It barely rises an inch above the surface of the sea, and every thing from sharks to whales and mantas uses Osprey as a waypost, and oasis to rest, gather, eat or get eaten. On my last trip out aboard Mike Ball’s Spoilsport, we had minke whales, orcas, mantas, piles of sharks and grouper.

Then we meandered back to the northern barrier reef to a section called the Ribbon Reefs, and hit all the hot spots: Cod Hole, Steve’s Bommie, Challenger Bay, Pixie Pinnacle, among others and the world came to greet us. Minke whales hung out under the boat, massive potato cod nuzzled us, cuttlefish, lionfish and heaps of anthias and other tropicals that flit and dash over the reef like autumn leaves caught in the wind.

It’s all liveaboard country here. Enjoy the pics.

The boat: mikeball.com — go in late June, early July to see the Minke’s.

Western Australia — The Hike to Mitchell Falls

OK. I’m relentless. Once I get ambulatory, I don’t slow down except to take a photograph, which happens with frequency. Or…step behind a tree because I drink too much coffee to keep up my crazy pace.

Couple things to know: My camera backpack and tripod add about 28 pounds to my body.

So, that brings us to Mitchell Falls. My guide and I drove to the trailhead from the Mitchell Falls Wilderness Lodge early in the morning, arriving around 7:30 am. Proper hiking boots, water wicking socks and plenty of hydration. We were headed to one of the Kimberly Region of Western Australia’s top attractions, which like most top Australian attractions, is in the middle of a pristine wilderness. Most people hike in and take a helicopter out. But not us. The last chopper leaves the park at 3 pm, long before the sun sets, and I didn’t want to be rushed for photography reasons. My guide, by the way, was accustomed to leading hikes with “elder” individuals as a “leisurely” pace.

Off we go. Along the way we pass through lovely woodlands of livistona palm trees and lots of fragrant eucalyptus. My guide shows me mermaid aboriginal rock art and rock art behind a waterfall called Little Mertons Waterfall. After shooting images for an hour, we swim in the pool at the foot of the falls, following the cooling off traditions that began thousands of years ago with the local Wunambai people that first inhabited this plateau. The water felt perfectly cool, not cold. I indulged as long as I journalistically needed, then we had to move on. We had several miles still to go.

We next hiked right over Big Mertens Falls. Now, for all the American travelers reading this, note: no hand rails, no handicap access, no safety rails. And, Big Mertons falls several hundred feet over a sheer  cliff that I precariously, and probably insanely, dangled myself from to get the shot you see above.

The rest of the hike went at a furiously pace so that we could see Mitchell Falls, the main attraction. My guide had a secret place to show me. We hiked through two rivers and up cliffs to a lookout spot that was absolutely perfect and remote and offered almost a birds-eye view of the massive and I must note, stunning falls. The only problem was my guide had misadvised me about the way the falls would be lit in the late afternoon. They were in complete shadow. Yikes! Sometimes this happens in travel journalism. When it does it’s not good for photography. I took a few shots to make my guide feel like she’d done good, while inside I fumed at her misinformation. Oh, well. In the end, I actually like the drama of Big Mertons and the delicacy of Little Mertons better. At least, that’s what I’m telling myself.

My digs: Mitchell Falls Wilderness Lodge, aptouring.com.au