We had very much been looking forward to making a visit to Carnarvon Gorge for some time. The idea of immersing ourselves in such a special area, where geological ‘deep time’ was so tangible, was attractive. We imagined ourselves deep in the gorge, transfixed by its direct links to the ancient past, those primeval palms, those sandstone cliffs, worn down over eons…
And yet the experience itself, was not quite what we expected.
We camped up on the sandstone bluffs overlooking the Gorge at Sandstone camp. The views from our camp site were truly spectacular, and with the clouds on some early mornings covering the ridges above the Gorge, it was easy to find a sense of calm and peace. Even the most fidgety and workaholic (like me) could feel the serenity and – I’ll have to say it – the spirituality of the place.
Things were a bit different when we actually spent a day down in the Gorge itself. We arrived to find the first car park was full and day trippers (like ourselves) busy on the walkways. The Gorge itself, although spectacular with its palms, slim survivors from an ancient time when the Australian continent was much, much, wetter, was quiet and devoid of any obvious fauna. The real life of the Gorge seemed to cackle overhead, with the constant babble of Noisy Friarbirds way up above our heads, high in the canopy.
Some older visitors stopped on the pathway to have a cigarette, while younger and perhaps healthier visitors barged their way through, anxious to cover as much ground as they could in the shortest possible time. We were happy to let them through, while we dawdled trying to soak up as much of the atmosphere of the place as we could.
It became clear that much of the Gorge itself was like a rain forest jungle floor, severely limited in terms of undergrowth by the amount of available light. Ferns flourished, but they gave the area a kind of funereal air.
And this sort of made sense, for at the Visitors’ Centre, we learned from a recording by an Indigenous guide that, in pre-colonial times, the Gorge had been (and continues to be) a sacred space, a place where their ancestors had been laid to rest. Although the Gorge itself had also been important as permanent source of water, their major hunting and foraging grounds had been outside the Gorge.
The Aboriginal Traditional Owners of the area that falls within Carnarvon National Park welcome you and request that you treat the country through which you walk with respect and care.
Parks, QLD.
Not to say that it isn’t an amazing place – it is incredible to be able to experience remnants of a very ancient landscape.
Recognised nationally for its outstanding natural and cultural values, Carnarvon Gorge protects unique and significant plants and animals—many of them relics of cooler, wetter times. Permanent springwater, cooler temperatures and low levels of direct sunlight provide the conditions that allow remnant rainforest to survive here in the dry central Queensland climate.
About carnarvon gorge np
It just seemed a little… clumsy, philistine, to see so many people tramping through such a fragile wilderness. Perhaps I’m being elitist here – after all, everybody has a right to experience the wonders of nature. But on our way out of the park we saw something that gave us pause for thought. Although the road in and out was narrow and windy, and low speed limits were enforced, we noticed that some other tourists were in a hurry to be somewhere else. While we slowed down, they sped up.
Just outside the entrance to the park itself was grim evidence of the results of this mindset. A big beautiful green snake* lay squashed in a coil of roadkill in the middle of the road. Somebody had been going too fast to stop in time. And just a little way in front lay the feathered remains of a freshly dead raptor**, obviously lured to the carcass of the snake, and then squashed itself by the on-rushing traffic. Thinking back to the remains of a majestic Wedge-tailed Eagle (Aquila audax) we had seen on the same road just a few days before, I wondered if our visit, and the visit of all the other people and the tour buses, was really worth it? Maybe it would be better if we just left these wild places alone?
From the bluffs at Sandstone Camp, I pondered this question, and realised that the greatest satisfaction I got from my trip to the Gorge, was actually the view from above.
*I couldn’t stop to identify the snake because I was worried that some other tourist, driving too fast on a bendy road, would run into the back of me. ** Same for the raptor.
All photos by coolmccool@gmail.com
