Mike and Alana's big drive: Bulldust, Bulldust and more Bulldust, or to Lawn Hill Gorge and back. 3-9-12

After a couple of sublime days of lazing on the banks of the Gregory River, Alana and I decided it was time to take a canoe trip at the Lawn Hill Gorge. Initially we were installed with a sense of adventure and wonderlust about the canoe trip by the 'Innisfail Girls' who we met way back at Whale Bone Bay on the Denham Peninsula. But bringing us back to this present point in time we have felt a certain apprehension along the way from all the advice we have been given on how best to tackle the 80kms or so of dirt road. Before this point, 10kms of dirt has been the longest stretch that we had driven on. One thing about driving a motor home on dirt roads is that you feel every vibration and rattle, no matter what speed or tyre pressure you are on. You come out the other side feeling quite shell shocked.

I've gotta get my eyes checked!

So with all this in mind we set off down the road to Lawn Hill Gorge. At the the start of the trip a fine carpet of bitumen has our Fiat's wheels humming along beautifully. At about the 10km mark the red dirt looms as a barrier right across the bitumen road's horizon. With bated breath Alana and I cross the threshold with a big thump. To our surprise our wheels are still humming beautifully. We drop the speed to 50kms and wonder what all the fuss was about. The dirt road seemed superbly graded.

This whole area leading up to the national park is one big cattle station. We saw Brahman cows everywhere, even on the side of the road in single file. Call me abstract or out there if you like but the sight of 4 cows crossing the road in single file looked as cool and as significant as the Beatles doing the same thing on the cover of the Abbey Road album. When we saw no cows we saw plenty of cow pats, flattened like pancakes in the middle of the road.

Cows re-enacting the Bealtes' Abbey Road album cover.

After about 40kms we noticed a turn off to the left heading for a zinc mine. Soon enough after that, our up to that point beautifully graded dirt road became a moto cross track, all be it in a straight line. We drove at speeds of 10 and 20kms, riding the ruts and bumps like we were overweight Titans, too heavy for our chariot.

At about 10kms to go we dropped in for a break at Adel's Grove. We went for a swim in the creek, floated around on rubber tubes, snorkeled the shallow banks looking for Archer Fish and Black Bream, rested and read our books on the shady banks and generally chilled most of the hot afternoon away. We were told that we should stay at Adel's Grove and go out to the gorge in the morning on account of the better camping facilities here. We decided to save a few dollars and after taking advantage of the amenities here, headed off late arvo to camp at the national park.

On arrival at Lawn Hill Gorge we quickly decamped and walked the 1km to Indarri Falls. Here we found a great swimming hole with two water falls. On top of the falls you could see the water level of the upper falls. I have to say that I didn't expect to see any bums hanging around here and I don't want you to think that I was too disappointed when I saw three bums belonging to women of various size, shape and dimension mooning, all bent over wiggling their cheeks, whooping and hollering from their vantage point on top of one of the falls to some lucky bastard or loved one on the other side taking a photo. I said to Alana who had the camera out "take a shot!, take a shot!".

Missed by that much!

Alana and I went to bed early that night, no cooked dinner, no watching the next instalment of Being Human (again!). I couldn't even get under the sheets, we were buggered. The heat, the vibration and dust of the road had all conspired to send me off to La La land. With the certainty of a submerging submarine I was going to have a deep sleep.

The new morning sees us in our tandem canoe paddling up the lower gorge. There is something very calming about being on the water early in the morning, watching the sun slowly reign its soft rays on the water, reflecting the gorge cliffs and vegetation, all muted through the flowing rippling water. The multitude of different bird noises, all rising to a glorious early morning symphony. You just have to take a deep breath and sigh, taking it all in.

Unlike the Katherine Gorge, when you take the next level of this gorge you need to drag your canoe a few metres or so to re-launch it. There is a bit of old green carpet strewn along the path to help facilitate this. After paddling around a bit at the next level we came back to where we re-launched the canoe and had a swim. Right at our feet where we lowered our bodies into the water fish came up to investigate. There were Archer fish, Sooty Grunters and other little tackers all having a ball as we fed them the crumbs from our nut bars.We paddled our way back to the start with the help of the water flowing the same way. Our arms were heavy but we enjoyed a feeling of satisfaction of a morning well spent.

"Right, who want's to go again."

So we headed back to the moto cross track all 80kms of it, contending with the red bull dust all the way back to the sancturary of the Gregory River. We had barely got back there to decamp when both of us plunged into that magical river.

We went for a final drink and hopefully a meal at the Gregory Downs pub which was a short stroll from the river but lucked out on the meal. After a few drinks we ambled back down to camp. Once again we were too stuffed to cook and just managed to turn the doona down before we both crashed. The nights are getting hotter but as if to calm us we had the running waters of the Gregory River flowing slowly away down stream, willing and lulling us to sleep, just 2 metres away.