Carnarvon Gorge — 6

Day 6: Gayndah to Cooroy

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15 September 2020

Master Map

The day's plan was to deliver KLR_Al to Cooroy where she oped to find cheap accommodation in reasonable proximity to Noosa, a premier Australian resort town. When I bought the CB1100 and joined this forum, I was living in the hinterland of the Noosa shire. I miss it. The local riding was so much better than being in a city.

We left Gayndah reasonably early and, again, had an uneventful trip.

View of the South Burnett Highway. The last is a great view as you begin the descent to the plain.

Well … almost uneventful. A short while after we turned off the A3 onto the Kilkivan Tansey Road, a passing 4-wheel drive spat a rock at me. It hit me precisely on the end of the middle finger of my right hand. Hard. It hurt. A lot. Is it shameful to confess I wanted to stop the bike, sit by the side of the road and blubber? As it turned out I didn't as KLR_Al was in front of me and there was nowhere to pass. Anyway, what good would it have done?

We kept going to Gympie a town of which I am not hugely fond except for Emelia's Café. I've written of it before in these chronicles, having been there with both Pterodactyl and GrahamT. The proprietor, Giovanni, was an Italian gentleman and rider of a Ducati and a MotoGuzzi. He was often grumpy, bit always happy to talk motorcycles. Last time I was there with GrahamT, I learned he'd died tragically.

Giovanni and Pterodactyl outside Emelia's Café in 2015

What with the finger and not having had breakfast and all, I was really looking forward to Emelia's. But, of course, it was not to be. First there was nowhere to park. Then it looked like the café had changed hands. Whatever, it was clearly being renovated.

Hungry and exceedingly grumpy by then I suggested we push on along the lovely ride through Cedar Creek. It was a glorious change from the flat, fast South Burnett. The grass was a glorious green, the water in the dam sparkled and corners abounded. KLR_Al commented on how different it was to the previous day's ride; much more like France.

At Kin Kin we stopped at the Black Ant Café which had undergone something of a transformation since I was there last. The food looked delicious and I was looking forward to a ciabatta roll of some sort until the officious proprietor told us they were available only to be taken away. We could not buy a roll and a cup of coffee and sit and eat it in the café. Apparently we could have a table only if:

1. we were prepared to order food from the a la carte menu; or
2. we were having coffee and a cake.

Coffee and a cake: OK. Coffee and a roll: No. Go figure. Even now, sometime later, I can't find any logic in the rule. Somehow I managed to swallow the indignities of the morning and made do with coffee and a cake. The roll would have been much better.

The twisties in the middle of the stretch of road between Kin Kin and Pomona were every bit as much fun as I remembered and we soon arrived intact in Cooroy. I refuelled and said farewell to KLR_Al. I pointed my nose to the hinterland, and some fabulous roads on the final leg home.

There's only one photo: from the steep and glorious descent on the Bellthorpe Range Road.

Epilogue

Another enjoyable trip on the CB1100. As it turns out it was the final one in this strange, COVID-afflicted year, 2020. I guess I did well to manage 3. An injury will keep me off the bike for the rest of the year, but I'm hoping to get rolling again later in January 2021. Pandemic permitting, of course.

For the numerically minded I travelled 2,286.4 kms; used 125.17 litres of fuel at an average of 5.06 L/100kms. You can't reduce fun to a number.

Carnarvon Gorge — 5

Day 5: Emerald to Gayndah

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14 September 2020

Master Map

By the time I realised KLR_Al had sent me a text, she was under way. We'd agreed that she might start earlier than me as, having a larger capacity bike and carrying way less gear, I'd be likely to catch her during the day.

And I did. In spite of taking photos of ridiculous trucks for my grandson …

… and photos of ridiculous big toys …

I think they're called minions

… I caught KLR_Al at the first fuel stop at Blackwater. As promised, the bike was well laden.

Refuelled, we proceeded at a more leisurely pace than usual largely due to the KLR labouring under an inordinately heavy load. It did ok, although hills were challenging.

The KLR under way

It was an uneventful trip except for a moment in Biloela. Our route require a right turn at a set of traffic lights. Realising KLR_Al hadn't realised the need to turn, I passed her quickly and then came to a stop as the right turn light was red. Moments later, KLR_Al passed me to the left and turned right aiming directly for the place where the side of the car proceeding through the lights would be when she got there. There was a moment when I was sure it was going to be an almost perfect T-bone with all the attendant grief that would go with it. Miraculously she missed the car by millimetres. Did the driver see her and speed up? Was she going more slowly than I judged? I'll never know, but she missed it and, unharmed (bar my shattered nerves) we chugged along happily for the rest of the day.

We stopped for the day in Gayndah, a pretty town. An attempt to settle at the local camp ground failed to elicit any response from the proprietor, so we found a cheap motel with a couple of rooms and settled there. It turned out the husband of the proprietor was something of a motorcycle enthusiast. This specimen sat in the shop.

Carnarvon Gorge — 4

Day 4: Carnarvon to Emerald via the Gemfields

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13 September 2020

Master Map

As I struck my tent and set about packing my bags, the mystery of the chewed muesli bars was solved. I'd rolled the top of the bag and tucked it under the fly of my tent, but that hadn't stopped some enterprising rodent eating its way through the bag. I was quite impressed. It's quite thick and probably not all that tasty.

Heading out of the national park

I said my farewells to Valvoline, JoshKTM and CC who were making their way back to Brisbane then set out north in search of a road Valvoline promised had actual bends. I was a bit amazed. How had Pterodactyl and I — who have twice ridden in this otherwise flat-ish neck of the woods — not discovered this gem?

The road north to Emerald via Rolleston (where I refuelled having emptied the 5-litre container into the tank at Takarakka) has a mostly flat aspect.

But there are some interesting hills and mountains to keep one interested. I particularly liked this range near Springsure.

At a place called Anakie, I had encounter with the Big Emerald, another of Australia's Big Things.

At Cararvon I'd found a small, plastic child's toy on the ground. Apparently it's called an ooshie. It had a rubber suction cup on the base and I stuck it on the headlight of the bike. I thought no more about it. After something to eat and a tank of petrol at The Gemfields, I was surprised to notice it had survived cruising speed on the CB1100.

Valvoline had reported well. Just outside the Gemfields, there's a right …

… then a left …

… then another left …

… then a right …

… then a left.

It's hard to describe the joy experienced both by rider and the sides of tyres when they encounter corners in this part of the world. It's not completely flat, but there aren't many hills either and mostly the road travels straight or through corners so long as not to present a challenge of any sort.

I rode the rest of the way to Capella. Arriving on the outskirts, I nearly kept going down the long straight road back to Emerald as, after the corners, the road hadn't been that exciting, but I decided to ride it again as I'd missed an important photo opportunity.

I'm pleased I did. I enjoyed the ride more on the way back. The corners were also more fun when I wasn't preoccupied photographing them.

I also found another Australian Big Thing, although I managed to miss the Big Engagement Ring a little further down the road.

Back in Emerald, I stopped to refuel, get a cup of tea and find somewhere to stay. As I arrived I noticed a person climb aboard a heavily laden Kawasaki KLR650 and ride out of the petrol station.

I found accommodation at one of those places where you book online and they send you a code to get into the place and into the room. Having asked specifically whether they had a TV that received the full array of free-to-air television, I was more than a little irritated to find the TV would not get the one channel I wanted — the one broadcasting the MotoGP. I rang the man and he gave me the code to the next door room. It had been used so I rang him again. Third time lucky.

I walked up the road to get something to eat before the GP. I was sitting in the Irish Village pub, catching up on the forum or something and minding my own business when someone said, "Excuse me." I looked up to find a young woman. She asked me whether it was me riding the bike in the service station earlier. It must have been the CB1100forum.com t-shirt that gave me away.

I'll call her KLR_Al as she did want me to reveal her name was Danielle^*. She's French, spending time in Australia — and probably happily stuck here thanks to COVID — and had been working on stations in far north-west Queensland. She was now riding south to check out Noosa before setting out on a circuit through northern Queensland, the Northern Territory and South Australia. As my route home would take me near enough to Noosa, I offered to accompany her the next day.

We agreed to make contact in the morning and I retreated to watch another of the extraordinary MotoGP races that has characterised 2020.

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^* Just kidding. Danielle wasn't her name either.

Carnarvon Gorge — 3

Day 3: Carnarvon Gorge

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12 September 2020

Another day of walking. This time only as far as the Moss Garden, another amazingly tranquil oasis of water and green.

A moth on the path

The Moss Garden

I sat down in the Moss Garden to enjoy the tranquillity, only slightly marred by the constant stream of visitors. I hauled water and a muesli bar from my bag and was surprised to find that the muesli bar—which had been at the bottom of my waterproof riding bag had been opened and munched on. So had another I dragged out. I'm not a greedy man and I'm happy to share, but I was mystified about how they'd been munched. I figured I hadn't adequately secured the top of the bag.

After leaving the park, I dropped in at a waterhole where people occasionally swim. A turtle clung to a tree.

And later in the evening, a real treat. The river running past the campground is home to a platypus, shy and seldom seen. The platypus and four species of echidna are the only surviving monotremes on Planet Earth. Two monotreme sightings in two days is almost too good to believe. (See how I got all the variants of 'to' into the preceding sentence?) Anyway, campground residents take a drink and their camera to the waterhole around dusk to catch a glimpse of this peculiar creature. We were not disappointed.

The final wildlife sighting was a black-faced wallaby, a relative of the kangaroo.

Carnarvon Gorge — 2

Day 2: Carnarvon Gorge

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11 September 2020

It rained during the night which was fine as my tent kept me dry. The day dawned OK, although further showers were promised for the afternoon. It's 20 kilometres to walk to the end of Carnarvon Gorge and back. My companions are considerably younger and healthier than me and a great deal fitter as well, so I shooed them off thinking I'd stroll a couple of kilometres along the trail into the park and back and otherwise have an easy day.

Carnarvon Gorge is what its name says: a valley between two escarpments of around 600 metres high. There's a pretty stream that runs through the valley. When there's serious rain, it becomes a river and is probably uncrossable. The track winds along the valley and there are side-walks to a number of interesting and scenic natural attractions. I figured my general lack of fitness and a dodgy knee meant I'd maybe make it to the second of these and then head back for a rest.

Carnarvon Gorge

As it turned out I enjoyed myself so much I walked in as far as the Art Gallery, a return walk of around 11 kms.

My wife says I take too many photos. She's probably right, but in these digital days it's no longer an indulgence, I'm not a great photographer and I generally apply the method Tom Lehrer set out in the The Hunting Song, "You just stand there looking cute, and when something moves you shoot". I reckon, if I press the button often enough, I ought to get the occasional good shot. To keep her happy, though, I reduced the two days at the park to less than 20 photos. Here they are.

The start of the walking track

The western escarpment

The climb to the entrance to the Amphitheatre

The entrance at the top of the steps

The western walls of the Amphitheatre

The Amphitheatre was formed by erosion over a long time. A sandstone core has somehow eroded away leaving an amazingly tranquil canyon that can be accessed only though a narrow cut through the rocks. The information sign tells how entertaining it can be during a flash flood.

Having been totally amazed by the Amphitheatre, I decided Ward's Canyon was not too far away and that I should be able to make the extra distance. I'm glad I did. It was well worth it; perhaps the prettiest feature I saw.

Waterfall at the entrance to Ward's Canyon

Pretty rock in the creek at the bottom of the waterfall

Ward's Canyon is described as a 'time capsule'. It is the last place in central Queensland where the ancient king fern survives. I heard a naturalist type in the canyon talking in terms of them being 10,000,000 years old. They can't survive without water as they have no woody tissue: water fills their fronds exerting outward pressure to keep them rigid. Like a fire hose, says the sign. It also says the fronds can grow up to five metres in length, placing them amongst the largest of the world's ferns. In some ways they are less prepossessing than the tree ferns in the canyon which have very long, straight trunks supporting their leafy canopy.

A king fern

Inspired again, I decided to press on for an extra kilometre or so and look at the Art Gallery.

Australian indigenous art on the rock face in the Art Gallery. The colour comes from ochre and the images tell stories of the use of the site by Aboriginals.

I'd walked far enough, so I turned around and headed out.

This kangaroo barely interrupted his eating to check me out

A scarlet percher dragonfly

Here's the obligatory bike picture. The BMW below was jammed amongst all sorts of camping and exercise gear.

Later, back at the camp site, we were enjoying a recuperative ale or two when this echidna popped out for a photo op.

A currawong