Girraween National Park has always been one of my favourite bushwalking destinations; the unusual monolithic granite outcrops that dominate the park's scenery are completely unlike anything else in south east Queensland. I've been camping there several times, but always within a few steps of a car, tap water and (if I remember rightly) near intolerably cold showers. This is all well and good for some, but I feel that the best way to truly experience a place is to haul your home on your shoulders and pitch yourself out away from the busier campgrounds for a couple of nights.
Girraween offers those of us that fall somewhat awkwardly into that second category numerous opportunities for delighting in our strange passions, with several established bush campsites in the eastern section of the park. Over the long weekend in June, Dad, Rach, Kermit and I devised a circuit walk with the intention of visiting some interesting features that we hadn't explored before.
Perhaps the only thing that my partner finds more irksome than my incurable love for long walks is my obsession with weighing out every tiny item I plan to carry with me when I go on them.
The longer the walk, the more items need weighing. Many items that are weighed never make it to the walk. Some items that are weighed were never likely to be taken on the walk, but get weighed all the same. After all items that might conceivably be taken out of the house at some point in the future have been weighed, those items that weigh the least and still appear to be capable of functioning as required are gathered together and laid out nicely on the floor for a team photo.
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| All the gear - each item meticulously (some would say unnecessarily) weighed |
My arbitrary pack weight goal was less than 14 kg, which I smashed by a full 637 grams. My equally arbitrary base weight goal was less than 10 kg, which was overblown by 718 grams. My conclusion: I need to set less arbitrary goals. That, and I don't need 3 kg of food for 3 days.
As it turns out, I only needed 1.4 kg of food for 3 days. Basically, I followed my previous meal plan of porridge for breakfast, salami and cheese with mountain bread for lunch, nuts and chocolate for snacks and deb plus dehydrated meals for dinner. Only this time I dehydrated my own meals - no longer would I be a slave to the dehydrated meals companies and their silly recommended serving sizes.
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| All the food |
Day 1 - Mount Norman to South Bald Rock
Girraween's rugged landscape is dotted with numerous granite peaks that protrude above the park's prevalent eucalyptus forests. Mount Norman is the highest of these peaks at 1,267 m, and was also our first destination. From the Mount Norman day use area we embarked on a leisurely amble with our day packs, easily clambering over rocky obstacles in our path.
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| Kermit gets a free ride to the top |
A number of unusual formations, created by a profusion of seemingly random smatterings of large granite rocks, are present on the summit of Mount Norman. Perhaps the most unusual is a hole perched high up, known as "The Eye of the Needle."
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| The Eye of the Needle |
We wandered a bit past the summit to the open slopes of the western side for more grand views.
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| Castle Rock and the two Pyramids from the western slopes of Mount Norman |
Returning to the day use area, we greedily snatched up the last few slices of mum's cake and hoisted our big packs to begin our big walk.
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| Rach all geared up and ready to go! |
Walking tracks link the camp grounds with the major peaks in the western section of the park, while a network of maintenance roads provide a similar function east of Mount Norman. These vehicle tracks were what we would be following for most of our three day walk, intermittently dropping our packs to do side trips up the granite domes.
We entered through a stately stone gate, climbing uphill through dry sclerophyll forest to a derelict stone cottage.
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| Old Stone Cottage |
Beyond here we passed through recently burnt bush and crossed a couple of creeks as we contoured around the base of some obscure high outcrop. Our next target for this afternoon was West Bald Rock, which we quickly approached by the western base. Problem is, the base does not extend all the way to the road, so it was unclear where exactly we should begin our ascent from.
We passed a small group heading the other direction, and so asked if they knew where the track leading up West Bald Rock was located. Turns out that we were only a few metres away from that very point. It was lucky that we had it pointed out to us, as the entrance was quite vague among the dense, ferny ground cover.
Stopping briefly for lunch and to admire the views, we continued on upwards, cutting our way through patches of scrub growing out of crevices in the rock. There were no distinct track markers (except for the occasional cairn), but we managed to reach the top of the ridge, and from there worked our way north towards the true summit. This involved dropping down into a small gully and then scrambling up a very steep granite surface that dad and Rach were initially reluctant to attempt.
From the top, we could see that the summit was still further yet, and our peak just another hump along the bumpy spine of West Bald Rock.
Soon enough we arrived at the true summit, from which we gained fantastic views throughout the park. I spotted other hikers on a domed peak somewhere to the west, and managed to partake in a friendly wave with the distant strangers.
Heavy clouds had been building up since we started walking, and, in addition to several drops of rain, our descent was further enlivened by the fiercely windy conditions.
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| Descending to the ferny base of West Bald Rock |
We were all pleasantly surprised to find the going quite enjoyable through the wet sclerophyll forest surrounding West Bald Rock, Middle Rock and South Bald Rock. Layered sights of ferns and eucalyptus trees were favourably combined with the vibrant sounds of forest birds as we continued on.
As the light began to fade and we crept nearer to South Bald Rock bush campsite, I took a break at the crest of a hill beside a fence. I was surprised, then, to see a man emerging from the bush on the other side of the fence, carrying a coffee mug. His uncanny likeness (both in appearance and in voice) to Patrick Stewart made the encounter no less thrilling.
Our friend turned out to be a high school teacher, leading a small group of students. Because we had booked out the official campsite at South Bald Rock, they had been forced to improvise and set up camp among some rocky outcrops just off the main trail. Apparently this mob were the strangers I had waved to from West Bald Rock. He was very friendly, and seemed quite knowledgeable too, identifying the unique calls of the Albert Lyrebird that we could hear about us.
Moving on, we found one last crossing at Racecourse Creek to be a bit deeper than the rest, but managed to avoid wet feet by crossing over a conveniently placed log nearby.
A few minutes later we crossed a wide rock slab signalling the base of South Bald Rock and then located the bush campsite, which was actually just a slight bulging of the main track.
After tenting out we got to cooking dinner, but had to hop inside to eat as it started to rain slightly. A pleasant end to a very enjoyable day.
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