Inside Purnululu’s hidden gorges

Each of us had stowed a small mountain of food, water and equipment into our packs. The packs weighed heavily on our backs, but could not remove the smiles from our faces as we stood at the ‘observation point’ looking out on the Osmond Ranges. After a quick photo, we took our first heavy steps away from the signposted track and towards the infinity of open space. Some tourists looked at us like we were slightly mad. Immediately our knees were impaled by spinifex. We all said “Ow!”, before remembering this was an adventure and we were adventurers, so we didn’t complain again (well, at least not too much).

At this point it is worth reiterating just how much thought and planning went into ensuring we would find enough water; we had planned to follow creeks most of the trip, but knew there was a strong likelihood these would be bone dry. Each hiker was laden with ten litres, an amount which would permit a day’s exploration, leaving enough to retrace steps the next day should a water source not be found. Given that each hiker was resigned to toiling beneath this weight for the duration of the trip, it was with considerable (and probably excessive) joy that we relieved ourselves of five litres each upon finding a muddy puddle at the bottom of a river bed about 1.5 hours into the hike. This puddle existed even where Google Earth had not promised water, and so we concluded that water must be more abundant than we had originally thought. All remaining fears and concerns were banished shortly after when the pools of water were no longer small enough to prevent us from swimming. It was a happy moment, and one that our backs cherished. The rest of the day saw us following the creek bed until late afternoon when the sky coloured and we decided to make camp. Mats were rolled out by the creek and a pot of dahl was revived over the stove. Sleep came quickly.

Day Two began early as the sun snuck above the horizon. Our camp beside the creek was magical in the morning light, steam rising from the water, birds calling and the Osmond Range glowing in early sun rays. After eating some muesli and reliving our battles against rocks unfortunately located under our mats the night before, we were on our way. Plans for the morning revolved around navigating towards a tangle of contour lines that we had highlighted orange on our map. Before leaving Melbourne it had been decided that interesting gorges or land formations would likely manifest themselves as densely packed contours and so many likely areas were earmarked for investigation. What we found blew our minds.

MUMC Paradise Gorge, as it was affectionately christened, began simply and unassumingly. The mouth of the gorge was obscured by trees and reeds, expelling nothing more than a small stream of water which smelled distinctly of decomposition. However, water is water and we were happy just to find more of it. A quick snack break and another glance at the map inspired us to walk a little way upstream into the gorge and check it out. Good thing we did; not twenty metres upstream everything changed. The trees were gone, the smell was gone, but the water was not. There before us, in all its majesty and sandwiched between walls of rock, was a perfectly clear and deep pool. Each of us were awestruck at the quality of our find. On the opposing side of the pool, and accessible only by a swim, was a large, natural spillway that led further up into the gorge. We each felt like our birthday had come early, and wearing suits appropriate for the occasion we dove in to explore. Climbing the spillway revealed many more crystal clear pools and each one made us happier. We left the gorge convinced we had found the best the Kimberley had to offer on just the second day of the trip. But the Kimberley is full of surprises and there was plenty more to come.

Day Three was the day we were to leave Osmond Creek and begin our journey over the ranges. What looked like a promising gorge on the map was both a confusion and disappointment; we spent the morning filling and emptying out water bottles multiple times as water was found and lost, light packs were to be things of our dreams as we filled them to capacity from a murky and most uninspiring pool.

The rest of that day is easily summarised in a few words: we climbed a big, steep hill. In the delirium that accompanied our climb, each member of the party developed a fantasy as to what might exist on the other side of the ridge: lush green grass, flowing rivers, groves of tropical fruit and a slurpee machine was all we required. As fate would have it, none of these things were waiting for us, but in their place nature had carved us a perfectly flat boulder sitting atop the mighty hill. The boulder, perfectly sized for three mats, became our camp for the night, and from this ‘Eagle’s Nest’ we watched the shadows draw out along the flat plains hundreds of metres below us until the sun gave way to a moonlit night.

…The story continues in Wild issue 146. Subscribe today.