Thora by Night

Each night of camping has so far issued a new natural challenge.  The first night heavy rain, the second a plague of horse flies and tonight in the tiny tiny town of Thora, we have Christmas beetles!  Literally hundreds of them.  They ambushed us after sundown attracted by our single 12 volt cooking light.

They're in everything - clothes, my tent, the van, our dinner.  With every fluorescent lit forkful, paranoia sets more deeply.  It's only going to take one crunchy bite for me not to bother with food at all tonight.

Photo by Cyron http://flickr.com/photos/29145102@N00/2494040

I'll bet nearly every Australian has at some time in their lives, been subjected to a swarming orgy of Christmas beetles.  As a kid it is a bit overwhelming.  Their spikey little feet grab on to you and wont let go.  You have to pry them out of your hair and flick them from your fingers usually at least a couple of times before they release their grip.  So filled with mating hormone, they just don't care where they fly and what they land on.  And there is always hundreds and hundreds of them.

  

Ironically, human vision being what it is, requires the very light that attracts a Christmas beetle to see if one has landed in a cooking pot, the dinner, your coffee, the washing up water.  And usually at least one has.  And usually there is more than one and they are usually stuck together which makes a positive identification just that little more obvious.  And thus we spend the night picking and draining and flicking and sweeping dozens of pairs of Christmas beetles off and out of everything we touch until we fall asleep.

The Tramline Walk

We move on through the park to the Tramline Walk.  Again this walk, described as easy, highlights the lack of maintenance in this park.  There turns out to be quite a bit of scrambling under and over fallen trees.  This would be ok for a younger hiker but for my dad recovering from serious illness, it is quite a bit more difficult.   We take it slowly and this time make a better attempt at avoiding the leaches.

The walk itself is very interesting.  It tracks the remnants of the old, original saw milling work and shows the traces of how they fell and moved the trees to waiting steam trains.  The forest floor shows the old wooden train tracks in places and the beginning of the train bridge over the rain-forest gully.  It is all made from ancient timbers.  It is set on the edge of a very steep hill, amongst very thick vegetation.   It is hard to believe that it is possible to fell and move wood under these circumstances today - let alone more than a hundred years ago.

My Dad is a good person to have along on this walk.  He is a very clever, mechanically minded person and is able to identify and translate the information signs into the remaining clues still evident on the rain-forest floor.

After a bit of a rest, we drive through the remaining road of the Nimboi-Binderay National Park and meet up with the road going back south to Dorrigo.  There are small villages of maybe 100 people along the way.  It is mostly farming country.  We stop and look at the remains of a ghost town now virtually gone.  It turns out to be the town that once received the steam trains full with ancient trees felled at the Tramline walk.  It starts to rain, and like the park itself, the air is filled with more bitey insects.

At the top of the range we stop and have lunch at Dangar Falls.  No insects.  It was wonderful.

Dangar Falls - Dorrigo

Red Cedar Track

Tuesday morning 6.30am and the horse flies are congregating in anticipation of feasting on me outside the window netting.  The day is already hot.

Cooking bacon and eggs I spy out of my peripheral vision a large goanna who is slowly making his way over for breakfast.  I guess nobody can resist the smell of cooking bacon.  Great - I try to assess without my glasses if it is more than a metre long.  

Goanna scare the hell out of me.   I have seen people more territorial about their food than me wrestle with an adult goanna for their hot chicken sandwich.  Frankly I am not up to the challenge.  Certainly not with an audience of a million horse flies that will no doubt demand to be part of the negotiations.   

My Dad makes an appearance out of the van and volunteers himself as the campsite gate keeper until he sees the reptile walk behind our vehicle.  I am still nervous and eat with my breakfast plate teetering on my knees which are bent against my chest with my feet perched on the edge of the chair, in case the goanna makes an appearance from under the car.  

We pack up and make our way to Red Cedar Track.  It is spring and the park is obviously home to many red belly black snakes.  In the mornings they lay on the sunny parts of the road basking in the heat.  We drive slowly to miss them and then look in the mirrors to make sure they are still on the road when we drive past.  I don't want to collect a snake under our vehicle now, only to find it again later.  

We get to Red Cedar Track and it is just barely a trail.  Looks like snake country to both of us.  We put on our heavy shoes and go for a walk.  I am leading ~ wondering if we have taken the correct path and trying to stick to places where I can see what might lie on the ground through the longish grass.  I suspect the Ranger of this park uses his time playing x-box at this time of year and I have a feeling in my gut that we are sure to find a snake along this trail.   

There is an adult red belly in the middle of the track.  When I stamp at it, it does not move at all.  I start to get concerned.  Spring is not a good time of year to piss off a snake.  With more presence of mind, my Dad picks up a stick and throws it near the snake.  The snake slithers off slowly.  I don't want to be the leader anymore.

With my Dad in front, we get to the end of the trail and find two really large Red Cedar Trees.  I expected to see a few more, but apparently they really are rare now.   They are impressively large and must be very old.  I wonder how trees like this experience time.  Even our own relatively extended life spans must seem quite short periods to trees like this.  

The first time my Dad has seen a Red Cedar Tree

Platypus Flat Camping Ground

Technically all creatures in National Parks are protected.  Usually I am more than happy to respect an animals right to quiet enjoyment of their natural environment.  Camping with a plague of Horse flies however is a quick and dirty litmus test for finding out exactly how much patience and respect for all living things you really possess.  This is the situation at Platypus Flat Camping Ground in November.

Having finished our walk and looking to camp earlier than yesterday we drive to the camping ground next to Nymboidia River.  Once set up and feeling accomplished we take off our shoes in anticipation of relaxing by the river and wait for a platypus.   Platypus are usually very shy and quiet creatures.  Even if there is a march fly plague, you still need to be quiet and patient if you want to see one in it's natural environment.

I learned something new about my Dad today.  Apparently he has never had a leech on him before.  Another exciting first for him.  His initial impressions are not very positive and I suspect he could easily live without regret had he completely missed this particular life experience.

So every platypus near our part of the river is obviously avoiding two humans slapping each other and stamping pairs of march flies into the grass, in between watching us strike master yoga poses and hearing us discover another horrifying leech locked onto one of our lessor accessible crevices.  We didn't see a platypus.

Photo by einalam 

http://animalphotos.info/a/2008/01/13/platypus-swims-close-to-camera-nice-view-of-nose/#more-1219

Nimboi-Binderay National Park

Monday morning and the rain has stopped.  There are no leaks in my tent and my Dad did not get too wet in the van.  Bonus.  We laugh about how after handling the rain so well on our first night, we won't have any camping challenges left... MwHaahaahaahahaha...

Upon reaching Grafton we stop to buy fuel where my Dad the navigator forgets to ask for directions at the service station and so we are lost again.  This just serves to confirm one of my existing beliefs ~ that men don't really like to ask for directions.

We cross the Clarence River and stop at the information office.  We finally work out where the old Armidale Road turns off and continue South.  The road is mostly bitumen with some good dirt road patches toward the end.  Neither of us have been through here before.  The route has large amounts of State forest either side of the road.

We drive too far, turn back and finally recognize the entrance to Moonpar Rd into Nimboi-Binderay National Park by the really big National Park information booth off the side of the road.  On the way to Platypus Flat camp site we stop at Norman Jolly Memorial Grove for lunch and walk the Coachwood track.

My Dad and a tallow wood tree looking at each other 

Interestingly Coachwood and Tallow wood often grow in pairs.  They must like each others company for some reason.  I realize now where I get my love and fascination for trees.  It's genetic.

I think my Dad secretly loves trees.   One of the reasons we are here is that there is a walk called Red Cedar Track.  My Dad got excited about seeing Red Cedars when talking about where to travel this holiday.  He has never seen one before.  They are very rare and most were apparently chopped down for furniture making. So the Red Cedars is really why we are here.   We have driven 400 kms to see some Red Cedar Trees.