Monday, August 17, 2015

UP THE CREEK

It's a gorgeous day, sunshine spilling across the seaside burbs, too good to stay in. 
We decide to go out, right out, right now. So we head for Eumundi and the road west to Kenilworth.
We're not far along our escape road when we're met by double tandem heavy earthmoving trucks, belting around the bends towards us and generally being big. Not relaxing stuff. Where are they coming from, where are they going? 
We bemoan the constant pop-up housing developments, the city-making dirt-sculpting of our once-were-villages homeplace.

A huge wedge-tail eagle is soaring above us, a welcome into Country.
We exit the truck pressure at the first Belli Creek crossing where there's a little park. The trucks continue to thunder over the bridge every three to five minutes, both ways. I determine to find out what they're about, but for now, we'll explore the creek. The cameras come out.

We've parked beneath a callistemon and I'm delighted to see the tiny red honeyeaters flitting among the red brush flowers.
A single transluscent pink hibiscus glows in the shade, it's throat deepening into burgundy.





We follow the track to the creek, disturbed to find the water distinctly milky-looking. It hasn't rained for some time and this creek usually runs clear. Another issue to query.



Tree roots claw the banks supporting whole families of trunks bound together in their bid to resist floodwaters and remain vertical.



At the entrance to the horse riders' track, two voluminous bushes of hovea are fully dressed in violet. I've never seen hovea bushes this size, or this full with blossom.




Back on the road again, heading west, we tango with the heavy truck traffic, and then head off left again, this time up the Gheerulla track. The dirt road winds into the gap between rocky mountain ridges.



Rose is telling me about a time when she saw thousands of the monarch butterflies here, flocked in layers upon each other. 
We share our childhood memories of these morphing creatures that lay their eggs on the "wild cotton" plants. As a child, I used to keep the leaves and caterpillars in shoeboxes, as they grew large and spun pupae, and emerged as the beautiful russet and black butterflies. And yes I released them. 
Rose's memory was to pick the seed pod and float it like a swan on water. We spy the very same plants and Rose holds the swan in her hand.





Mmmm, it's so very interesting when it's opened. 




A flowering eucalypt is waving honey in the air above us. Luscious.




Following the stream now, we go deeper into the gap. The road quickly becomes rocky, with dirt humps. Good thing the weather has been dry. Any rain and it could become slippery. We reach the campground without mishap. We're deep into forest now, beside a rock-lined swimming hole of clear water, edged with nature's rock garden.






We both have a strong sense of spirit presence in this place, a friendly abundant joyful place, no doubt beloved by those who walked before us, time before time. The little birds love it.
We'd love to camp here sometime but the dirt bike track runs through here, could get noisy, and that road in is a bit suss.

We drift on back out again with smoky hills in the distance now.




We swing left back on the road to Kenilworth and realise that somewhere along the way, we lost the trucks, thank goodness. It's time for a cuppa stop when we reach the little village of Kenilworth, but oh we must see what's happening in Lasting Impressions Gallery first…and it's as wonderful as ever, stunning art work.

Mid-afternoon, refreshed by cuppas and cake, and we're keen to go even a little further out. So off we go west again, through the bell miner bird colony, a wall of pipping sound, through the deep dark rainforest, across the bridge at Little Yabba Creek and pull into the park under the huge hoop pines and silky oaks.

People are camped in their vans, no-one moves in a hurry. It's so laid back. Some guys wander up from the stream with their fishing rods. Another man is singing, playing uke to a pair of feet out the door of their camper van.

We wander across the bridge and take in the broad rocky bed of the creek.




Then into the Fig Tree forest walk, 800 metres through rainforest. The forest has this dark, cool moist smell. Whipbirds dart through the litter on the forest floor. Giant stinger trees glow gold-green in the canopy.




And yes, there are giant fig trees, and pigeons, flycatchers, and wrens, and with a single miaowing call, a catbird. It's a fabulous walk experience.









As we exit the forest, we hear that the singer has gathered a little band and they're belting out a few old numbers…"We're all going on a summer holiday"…

The shadows are long, time to head home. A glorious sweet peach sunset rides at our backs as we head east to the coast through the lovely rolling hills. 
We're a little tired but so replenished. Nature has a way of doing that.


If you're up for an afternoon escape on the Sunshine Coast, head for Eumundi and take the Kenilworth road west. 
I'd not risk the Gheerulla Road in a 2WD again.
About 5ks past Kenilworth is the turn off on the right to Charlie Moreland Park campground…Sunday Ck Rd. The road in is about 5ks and all 2WD accessible. 
Just beyond the Sunday Ck turn is the Little Yabba Ck crossing, where the creek joins the Mary River. Here you'll find the Fig Tree walk coming off the bridge on the northern side of the pedestrian walk.
The next turn off the main road is to Booloumba Ck, beautiful but 4WD access, and the last creek crossing on this road is a little dodgy, so best walk the creek into the park…beautiful place, thick rainforest. Both Boolumba and Charlie Moreland parks have great swimming holes.

Postscript: The milky creek water was reported to the local catchment authority. The big trucks carry loads from the Moy Pocket Quarry to wherever development is happening.










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