It was hot but we decided to forgo the super expensive cab fare and instead we took the shuttle into town where we picked up our rental Camper Van. This thing was really set up nicely with a fridge, stove, running water, two beds with nice linen, real stoneware, stainless steel cooking set, built-in GPS, camp chairs and table, clothes line, and I could go on but you get the picture. We were super excited about having this to travel in for the next five days!
Before leaving Alice Springs we stopped by the IGA for some supplies. We weren't really sure what we would find but for the most part we were pleasantly surprised. All we were looking for was breakfast and lunch stuff as we were staying at these outback caravan parks which had restaurants. We're on vacation and didn't want to cook dinners so we just had to get lunch and breakfast stuff. We found hummus, peanut butter, olives, chips just like at home, some Italian instant coffee that wasn't bad, grapes, grape tomatoes, tangerines, cereal for breakfast, and so on. They evan had soy milk. The big strike out was no good bread. The big home run, they did have gin, tonic, and limes!!!!! And oh did I mention Spam!!
We packed up the van with the groceries and headed for the MacDonnell Range National Park. This park is also called Tjoritja by the aboriginal people in the area. The mountain range was created by an uplifting/folding event that occurred over three-hundred million years ago. Over the ages the quartzite peaks and gorges have been sculpted by extreme temperatures, wind, and water. The park is known for having several beautiful gorges that have year around waterholes, vital for the wildlife in the area.
The first place we stopped was Simpson Gorge. We exited the van and found that it was even hotter here than in town. But I must confess it was not near as hot as I was expecting. We walked toward the gorge and had gone no more than twenty steps when we were the main focus in the lives of about fifty flies. That's fifty flies for Mim and fifty for me.
Now I pride myself on having a high tolerance for bugs. I think it comes from watching my Grandpa Sooney when he'd take me fishing when I was a little boy. For me, Grandpa Sooney was a saint and I wanted to be just like him. I still think that he is the reason that I have grown a garden every year of my life, as that is what he did, even the year he died at age eighty eight. I remember him baiting my hook while hundreds of mosquitoes buzzed all around him and not once did I see him try and swat them away. And I was watching for it too. I remember asking him how he could put up with all those mosquitoes and he'd say "well baby, I reckon I just don't pay'em any mind".
So that's what I'd try to do. As I was walking to the gorge and Mim was waving her arms in front of her like she was air swimming, I was just "paying'em no mind". That lasted about a minute or so and then I was air swimming too. Now I have heard people say "well at least they aren't the kind of flies that bite" yeah, so that's good, but it's hard to say that because we were not getting bit, that everything was hunky dory. Cause it wasn't.
These flies should be called Orifice Flies, because that's all they were interested in. They didn't want to get to know you as a person, the dogs just wanted into an orifice of yours and they weren't too particular which one. And they were down right clingy little fuckers too. One would dive into my beard and then as I tried to extract him, the little shit eater would cling to my hair so that I had to smash him all to hell and get his guts or whatever in my beard. And while I was smashing him there was another one trying to get into my ear and then another diving for my eye and yet another on the other side of my beard making good time for the corner of my mouth.
Something had to give. Thankfully it wasn't long before I realized that if I took my hat off and slapped my face with it every ten seconds or so, that I could pretty much keep the little shits at bay. I know, I know, some of you are thinking, and let's use a real cute baby talk voice here, "well they have to survive too and you are a guest in their habitat". You know what, you're absolutely right. But I'd like to see you come here and be all Grampa Sooney like.
Once we entered the gorge the wind picked up and that kept the flies under control, not to mention it cooled us down a bit. The gorge was beautiful with red quartzite cliffs rising vertically out of a spring fed waterhole. There was a sign that informed us of a Rock Wallaby colony that lived in this massive rock fall, but they are mostly nocturnal and we didn't see one. Nor did we see or hear any birds in the gorge. But that was all okay with us because we were on vacation and in a magnificent place. And for now the flies were leaving us alone. Before returning to the van I did manage to find White-plumed Honeyeaters, Australian Magpies, Crested Pigeons, and a female Red-capped Robin.
After leaving Simpson gap we drove about another hundred miles to Omistion Gorge where we stayed at a run down caravan park. I say the park was run down because it was, but it was a great place to stay. We parked the van and got it all set up. Then Mim made us both gin and tonics in our water bottles and being the little rascals that we are, we took them with us to dinner. And way out there in the middle of nowhere I had one of the best Greek Salads that I have ever had. It had fresh red and orange peppers, tomatoes, olives, salad mix with spinach, feta, fresh onions, it was great!
We got up before sunrise and readied ourselves for a morning hiking the Ormiston Gorge Pound Loop. I had read about it from the reviews on Trails.com and it sounded like an amazing hike. We drove to the trail-head and began hiking down a desert wash. A couple of Crested Pigeons flew by as did several Galahs (a pink Cockatoo). Then I heard a bird sighing in one of the small gum trees that were scattered about in the wash. I got my binoculars on a Gray-crowned Babbler and then a Rufous Whistler. A little ways up the trail I saw several birds tightly perched on a small dead snag. I raised my binos and almost flushed them with my shout to Mim "Rainbow Bee-eaters, Rainbow Bee-eaters". Turns out I didn't have to worry because these guys were not shy or timid. They allowed us to approach very close and finally we had to walk right by them to get down the trail. When we did they just moved off a few yards.
The trail left the desert wash and began to climb up a hillside that had been recently burned. The entire hillside was devastated and when we reached the top of the hill it was easy to see that the entire mountain side was also burned. It was really sad because I had read these reports from other hikers and birders that described the rich desert plant and animal communities that had lived on this mountain side, and now it was all gone. Here and there you could find plants springing back to life, but as far as I could tell the animals were not going to be back for a long time.
When we reached the pass and we were relieved to see that the fire had not reached the other side. As we started down the pass we heard some bird activity and found a Willie-Wagtail and White-winged Triller. We could hear a Gray Shrike-Thrush in the canyon thicket. Later, on down the trail near to where the canyon gives way to a plateau we found the bird that I wanted to see the most in this area. A Dusky Grasswren! These birds are so beautiful and frisky. They have these stiff tails that they cock up so proud like in the air. They aren't flashy beautiful like a Fairywren, yet for me they couldn't be improved upon. And the little feller was super proud to be singing his song while we just sat back and admired him.
A group of hikers came along and they were kind of noisy. The wren decided he'd had enough and went down into the scrub brush. I didn't want the hikers to get in front of us because I thought they might flush whatever might be up ahead. So we picked up the pace and got out in front. But it turns out that we didn't see or hear anything for about a mile or so.
When we reached the dry river bed that runs down through the gorge I heard a bird calling from a top a dead snag. It was a Black-faced Cuckoo-Shrike. We tried to approach to get a better look but the hikers came along and flushed it. Oh well, we got pretty good looks and hopefully we'll see more of them on this trip because they are a really sharp looking bird. At this point Mim spotted a White-necked Heron or also known as a Pacific Heron down the canyon a bit. It was perched on a broken snag out over the wash and I thought that it would be a great photo. So we decided to go a little off-trail and hike down the riverbed to get a better look at the heron.
Along the way we found a Mistletoebird and a large family of White-plumed Honeyeaters. We also got a great look and plenty of photo opportunities with a Long-nosed Dragon. I was trying to get close to him when much to my surprise he got up on his hind legs and ran right at us. He stopped about ten yards away and we all stood still wondering who would make the next move, when he again got up and closed the distance between us. He was not at all shy. I took a video of him as I was approaching him but it's a lousy video because he didn't move. Finally we just walked away because a whole passel of school kids were coming down the canyon now. Well seven or eight of them anyhow. How many kids does it take to make a passel?
Further on down the canyon the red quartzite walls narrowed and the birdsong of several Dusky Grasswrens bounced from wall to wall and back again. I thought about how my friends John and Laura told me that they'd heard on a podcast that birds evolved their songs in relationship to the habitat they occupied. That for example the "Quick Three Beers" of an Olive-sided Flycatcher evolved that call, with that tone, at that pitch, because it can be best broadcast over a thick mature forest. And I realized that this sweet little trilling song filled with syllables played so well in this here canyon, on this here day, and being received by this here lucky guy.
Later on down the canyon we saw another one of the birds that I so badly wanted to see. At first when I saw it, it was gliding along side the red walls and all I could see was the shape of this wings, its small compact body, and the black tail so finely edged in white. I knew right away that it was a Little Woodswallow. I had looked at several pictures and it was one of my favorite birds even before I saw this one. I was kind of afraid that this would be my only look, but never fear, it returned several times, flying by me and then landing in a dead snag that was about the same color as the woodswallow. Then it would take flight again and I was impressed to see the dark color of its body against the red walls and then against the blue sky.
At the mouth of the canyon was a spring fed waterhole where a Pacific Heron was wading. Also, I was surprised to find a Little Pied Cormorant because we had seen them a few days ago and two thousand miles away on the Victoria Coastline. We also found some Black-chinned Honeyeaters and a Little Crow.
Believe it or not. out here in the middle of nowhere, and I do mean nowhere, there's a little coffee kiosk at the trail head. It's owned and operated by the indigenous people in the area. And I am telling you the truth, and if you don't believe me just ask Mim, they make the best dang iced coffee in the whole dang world. Shazam Shazam Shazam! And we'd need it because now we have about a six hour drive ahead of us. On to Uluru or otherwise known as Ayres Rock.
Sweet Dusky Grasswren!
ReplyDeleteYo, Bosque,
ReplyDeleteyour tour description is as detailed as it is entertaining, but with that spam-a-mouth photo it's probably safest to travel incognito as a Brit(z)...
Yes or Canadian!
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