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Published: October 18th 2021
Stunning Scenery
Trail along the clifftops towards Rame HeadLimping into Pemberton after walking 110km in five days on a left foot sporting multiple injuries, I was finally able to call a halt to proceedings to give my foot the time it needed to heal. And if this decision was initially cause for disappointment - understandable given that the prior section of the Bibbulmun Track had been my favourite so far, with a number of friends made along the way - then this soon dissipated once I saw the forecast for the coming week: seven days' worth of rain! But with the only budget accommodation in Pemberton consisting of a single dorm room at the local backpackers hostel - left open solely for the benefit of Bibbulmun Track walkers - I decided to take the coach a couple of hours southeast to the coastal town of Denmark to stay at the lovely little 20-bed Blue Wren Travellers Rest.
While admittedly it felt like cheating to reach Denmark in just two hours - when it would have taken me two weeks on foot - there was no question that I had made the right decision once I walked in the door and was instantly absorbed into the little family of
Placid Waters
A quiet bend in the Denmark River travellers (mostly hikers) staying at the Blue Wren. Each evening the entire population of the hostel would gather around the large dining table to swap stories; and though our little community never numbered more than ten, this was probably just as well given there were only eight chairs to sit on. And nobody wants to be the one that misses out. For the next five days I did not much at all, which was exactly what my foot needed. Steadfastly refusing to wear shoes (or walk more than 500 metres in any direction) on the odd occasion that I did leave the hostel, I tried my best to bring the 'socks and thongs' combination back into fashion. Little did I realise that in Denmark this look had never gone out of fashion.
After five restful days in Denmark, I decided a change of scenery was in order - so this time I took a coach an hour back along the Track to the tiny town of Walpole, which occupies one of the most beautiful locations on the South Coast, with twin inlets to the south and magnificent karri and tingle forests in every other direction. If the Blue Wren
Walking on Water
Swan Bay Jetty in Walpole had felt like a home away from home in Denmark, then the Tingle All Over hostel in Walpole offered an equally-intimate sanctuary. But where the weather in Denmark had been characterised by gloomy skies and light drizzle, Walpole's weather would prove to be much more attention-grabbing! For four straight days it would regularly alternate between blue skies and torrential downpours... it was like being in the Tropics, except for the frigid temperatures! But with books to read, fellow hikers to chat to, and a fire going in the common room every night, I was as snug as the proverbial bug on a rug!
And given that Walpole was about 8-10 days walk beyond Pemberton, it was only a matter of time until some of the people I had met on the Track further north started filtering into town... and with only the one hostel in Walpole I simply had to sit back and wait for them to roll on in! Stuart arrived only a few hours after me, followed two days later by Chris and Tyler; but unfortunately there had not been any sign of David and Teresa, which wasn't surprising given their relaxed pace. I calculated that they
Back on Track
Setting out from the trailhead in Walpole would be due to arrive in Walpole on the Wednesday, but given that I would have already spent five days in town by then - on top of the five days in Denmark - I decided that if I was ever going to make it back out onto the Track, then Wednesday would have to be the day. Hell, the weather forecast was even predicting a rain-free day!
Having had every intention of returning to Pemberton to resume my walk from where I had left the Track, I had a last-minute change of heart and decided instead to simply continue on from Walpole to Albany. This was largely due to the fact that the section between Pemberton and Walpole (which measures 200km and would most likely take me nine days to complete) featured extensive sections of Track that were still inundated from the wet winter, and which would no doubt have been topped up by all of the recent rainfall. When I had asked Tyler about that section, he confirmed that he had spent six days walking on-and-off through water up to thigh deep. With more rain forecast for the start of the following week - and with my
Beautiful Beach
Coalmine Beach on Nornalup Inlet left foot having only just recovered from my previous 'underwater walking' experience on the Track - I wasn't prepared to take the risk, knowing that there was a fair chance I would end up simply enduring that section as opposed to enjoying it.
So after collecting my food drop box from the visitor centre in Walpole and re-stocking my backpack for the week ahead, I donned my hiking shoes for the first time in ten days and hit the Track out of town. The feeling of freedom was instantaneous. Having skipped ahead 200km from where I left the Track, I was immediately confronted by an entirely different ecosystem, with low coastal heathland forming a tunnel on either side of the trail, before I emerged on the shores of Nornalup Inlet at Coalmine Beach. A couple of kilometres down the Track I turned a corner and it was as if I'd walked into a different room - all of a sudden I'd gone from shoulder-height coastal heath to towering karri forest! But if I thought this was an impressive transition, better was still to come as the forest was gradually infiltrated by gigantic tingle trees. Restricted to a small pocket
Framed by Trees
The view from Hilltop Lookout of forest in the vicinity of Walpole - and occurring nowhere else on Earth - there are three separate species of tingle, but it's the red tingles in particular that take the breath away with their sheer size and bulk, growing up to 75 metres high and with trunks that can measure 20 metres or more in circumference at their base.
After climbing up to Hilltop Lookout with it's impressive coastal views, the Track led on towards a section of boardwalk surrounding the famous Giant Tingle Tree. Unlike their yellow tingle cousins, the red tingles flare out at the base as they age, with their buttressed trunks offering greater support for the weight of wood towering above. Often though a hollow develops within the base, and if a fire comes through it can burn it's way right up through the heartwood, leaving a hollow trunk with a gigantic cavity behind. Yet because the living tissue in tingles is contained just below the bark, they can continue to grow and send out new branches high above in the canopy, despite being supported by nothing more than a burnt out, hollow trunk.
It is quite an astonishing sight to see
Standing Tall
A giant tingle in the forests outside Walpole a healthy canopy suspended above what appears to be a dead trunk... and even more so when some of these 'hollow butts' are so large as to resemble caves! After having been so awestruck by the karri forests when I first encountered them, it was hard to believe I now found myself ignoring them and focusing instead on the tingles, but such was the immensity and uniqueness of them I simply couldn't help myself! I must admit to feeling a tinge of guilt at my sudden change of allegiance though... so much so that I stopped to give a trackside karri a hug - an act that simply wouldn't be possible with a red tingle - in an attempt to assuage my guilt and show the karris that I still appreciated them too!
Resisting the temptation to hug every other tree that I passed, I eventually made it to the Frankland River campsite, where an extensive covered deck area sat just back from the banks of it's namesake river. There already were David (a fifty-something journalist from Perth whom I had met at the hostel in Walpole, who was walking the Track from end-to-end and was planning to write
Foaming Waterway
The Frankland River a book about his experience) and three ladies of similar age from Albany (Julie, Jenny and Jo) who were just doing a three-day section of the Track. It seemed the social aspect of the walk that I had enjoyed so much on my previous section would continue, for the next couple of nights at least.
As it turned out we would also be sharing the Bibbulmun Track, for fleeting moments at least, with around 35 ultra trail runners, who were tackling the Delirious West 200-Mile trail running event. Having left Northcliffe at 7am in the morning (Wednesday), they had just four days to cover the 320km all the way through to Albany. Incredibly the first runner passed by the shelter at 3am that night, having covered 130km in just twenty hours! He must have been some sort of superhuman, given that I didn't encounter another runner until around 10am the next morning. In fact only three more runners (all women) passed by during my four-hour walk on the Thursday, as I enjoyed a leisurely stage of just 15km through to the next campsite.
Just 2km from the end of the day I reached the famed Valley of the
Still Standing, Still Growing
Hollowed out red tingle that still supports living branches high up in its canopy Giants, where a section of forest renowned for it's massive tingle trees lays claim to being Walpole's number one tourist attraction. And though I wasn't prepared to fork out twenty dollars for the Tree Top Walk (especially given that it was during school holidays) I was more than happy to settle for the free Ancient Empire boardwalk, which weaved it's way around, between and even through some particularly impressive specimens. I'm also not ashamed to admit that my personal highlight for the day was the coffee that I got from a little coffee van parked in the adjacent car park - which I needed to wash down the macadamia nut cookie and chocolate brownie I had also purchased!
It was just as I was leaving the Valley of the Giants - where various volunteers were on hand to support the trail runners at a temporary rest point set up, rather conveniently, opposite the coffee van - that the looming clouds finally started to empty their contents, so I put my arse into gear and knocked off the remainder of the day's walk in just over twenty minutes. I was glad I had done so, as it didn't take long
Shiny Showstopper
My first purple enamel orchid for the drizzle to build in intensity - which surely wasn't a welcome development for the procession of trail runners who passed by at regular intervals throughout the evening and well into the night. Thank heavens I always have a pair of ear plugs on hand, or it would have been a very restless night indeed.
The following day, a Friday, would turn out to be my favourite day of all on the Bibbulmun Track. It started inauspiciously enough, with a light rain falling for the first half-hour as I weaved my way through the karri and tingle forest, but by the time I crossed the South Coast Highway and entered the lowland forest the rain had stopped. It wouldn't rain again until I returned to the forest just over 72 hours later; and the ensuing three days would offer an almost endless procession of highlights. Somewhat unexpectedly the first highlight came when I managed to overtake one of the trail runners - despite having given him a 15-minute head start from the campsite - who was clearly running on empty, and was presumably calling for a pick-up from the support crew when I passed him by!
Not
Colourful Dunescape
Trail through coastal heath on the way to Conspicuous Beach long afterwards I emerged from the bush to catch my first glimpse of the coastline, disturbing a raucous gang of Baudin's white-tailed black cockatoos as I passed by. A little later I startled a western grey kangaroo, who then eyed me closely after rapidly putting ten metres between us. And then all at once I emerged into the coastal dunes covered in low heathland vegetation, where the wildflower display was enough to take the breath away! Pinks, purples, reds, oranges, yellows... every colour of the rainbow seemed to be represented, and it was hard work indeed to pass through this kaleidoscope of colour without stopping every thirty seconds to take another close-up picture. The undisputed highlight was my first ever purple enamel orchid, which was so shiny it looked as though someone had coated it's five petals in nail varnish.
Eventually the flavour of eye candy changed, with the carpet of wildflowers being replaced by a stunning stretch of coastline, as I reached a whale watching viewpoint perched high above a beautiful beach, with the aptly-named Conspicuous Cliff rising sharply off to my left. Soon enough I was following a small creek down onto that beach, where powerful Southern
Southern Ocean Stunner
Conspicuous Cliff and Beach Ocean swells continually pounded the shoreline. After a short stroll along the beach the trail climbed back up into the dunes, passing a small pond full of croaking frogs before leading steeply up the side of a ridge that ended abruptly at the aforementioned cliff. With views to die for extending along the coastline in both directions - combined with the spectacular wildflower display - the trail was truly a feast for the eyes. And then just as I reached the campsite at Rame Head a tiger snake emerged from the shelter, as if welcoming me to his patch. I accepted his invitation to indulge in a leisurely lunch break, though sadly he was too busy to stick around and join me.
Pressing on from Rame Head after lunch, there were more beautiful views from the coastal dunes, until eventually the trail dropped down into a low, flat area where large stretches were inundated with surface water. To begin with this wasn't a problem, as a series of boardwalks had been built to keep walkers up out of the water. The only problem was that the timber boardwalks ended a few hundred metres before the water did! Still, given
Walking in Water
Inundated section of trail on the way to The Gap Beach that I'd skipped the long section of Track between Northcliffe and Walpole where the worst of the winter flooding was located, I figured the least I could do was get my feet wet at least once with a little impromptu wading session! So off went the shoes and socks and into the water I went, though thankfully with the water being little more than ankle deep it was not only possible to see the sandy bottom, but also - much to my relief - reasonably warm. Maybe wading wasn't such a bad thing after all...
After crossing a couple more beaches the Track climbed up and over the rocky headland of Point Irwin, before turning north and contouring above the truly gorgeous crescent of Groper Bay, where I spotted a couple of seals cavorting in the surf. From there it was all downhill until I hit the beach for the final time for the pleasant seaside walk into the quiet little hamlet of Peaceful Bay, which consists of little more than a caravan park with an attached store, fish and chip shop, and cafe. The fish and chips at Peaceful Bay enjoys an almost legendary status amongst Bibbulmun Track
Secluded Cove
The gorgeous Groper Bay walkers, and it was with great satisfaction that I finally arrived at the caravan park - after walking 30km in just under ten hours - with half-an-hour to spare before they closed up for the day. No sooner had I paid for my tent site than I was ordering my freshly-cooked dinner, and after racing across the road to erect my tent I had just finished pegging out the tent fly (which I hadn't used since my very first day on the Track) when my buzzer started ringing to alert me that my fish and chips was ready to collect! Talk about the perfect end to a perfect day.
The following day started in much the same way as the previous one had finished, as I indulged in a full cooked breakfast at the Peaceful Bay Cafe, where I met one of the countless Bibbulmun Track volunteers who look after different sections of the Track - in this guy's case it was a 10km section leading to the campsite at Boat Harbour, which I would be walking myself that afternoon. He tipped me off to the location of a little-known (but spectacular) viewpoint down a sandy 4WD track just
A Fitting Reward
Fish & chips for dinner at Peaceful Bay a kilometre or so before the campsite, which I assured him I would take the time to check out on my way past. In the meantime though I had a pretty full 23km day to get through, and one that would take a greater physical toll on me than I could possibly have imagined!
Starting out parallel to the shoreline of Peaceful Bay, the Track then took an abrupt left-hand turn and followed a narrow but perfectly-maintained walking trail through low coastal scrub, with intermittent views ahead to the wide expanse of Irwin Inlet. Crossing the 200-metre-wide channel through which the Inlet empties into the sea is a rite of passage for Bibbulmun Track walkers, as it necessitates a short paddle across in a canoe. To facilitate this, there is a boat shed located on either side of the channel housing three canoes, each supplied with two life jackets and a pair of oars (though there is also a solitary double-blade kayak paddle on each side - but more about that later).
Complicating the process somewhat is the fact that all walkers are supposed to leave equal numbers of canoes on each side, meaning that I would have
Time for Something Different
Canoe shed on the western bank of Irwin Inlet to not only row myself and my backpack across to the eastern shore, but would then have to retrieve a canoe from that side, tie it onto the one I had just paddled across, and then tow it back across to the western side to replace the one I had taken... which I would then have to paddle back across for a THIRD time to finish up on the eastern bank with equal numbers on either side! Noticing a large amount of muddy water splashing about on the bottom of my chosen watercraft, I endeavoured to flip it over to drain the water out... and in doing so pulled a muscle in my lower back that had me writhing in agony!
Needless to say this made the crossing considerably more difficult (and painful), but this was made even worse when I then had to haul the second canoe down the bank on the opposite side to tie it up to my craft. Naturally the return crossing was more difficult now that I had the dead weight of a second canoe bobbing along behind me, and having to then drag it up the bank and hoist it into the shed
Halfway Across
Paddling into the teeth of the wind on Irwin Inlet certainly did me no favours! But the worst was still to come, for having done each of the first two crossings with the one double-bladed kayak paddle - which enabled me to successfully steer the canoe diagonally across the channel to the opposite boat shed, which was actually about 100m to the right of it's counterpart, rather than directly opposite - I decided I had better leave it behind for the next person to use and tackle the third and final crossing with one of the single-bladed canoe oars instead.
Big mistake. With the one and only blade spending as much time out of the water as in it, there was no way I could steer the craft into the teeth of the wind-blown waves whipping up on the surface of the Inlet, so the best I could do was to paddle as hard as possible on my left-hand side (yep, the side that I had pulled the muscle on...) and head straight across to the opposite bank, before hopping out and pulling the canoe the remaining hundred metres along the bank to the boat shed... where the effort of hauling the canoe up the bank had me doubled
1 crossing down; 2 to go...
Looking back from the eastern bank after a successful (if painful) crossing over in pain! Considering I had paddled over 130km on this trip without having any issues with my back, this wasn't exactly the triumphant crossing that I had envisioned! I could only hope that my back wouldn't give me too much grief while I was walking, as I still had another 55km to go to reach Denmark. Still, I had at least managed to get both myself and my backpack across Irwin Inlet without getting soaked, which is more than some people manage.
No sooner had I hoisted my backpack and climbed the wooden steps leading up from the banks of the Inlet, than a father and daughter turned up to tackle the crossing from the opposite side - I was acutely aware that if they had have just turned up half-an-hour earlier we could have simply swapped sides without having to do a second OR third trip across! As luck would have it, they ended up doing exactly that with a young woman who had followed me in from the west; while another two guys managed to accidentally time their crossings (from opposite sides) perfectly as well, so that they too only had to row across once. In
Colourful Grassland
Kangaroos up ahead on the Track through the Showgrounds fact it was only David much later in the day that had to follow my lead by doing the triple-crossing shuffle... and as a result he wouldn't reach the shelter at Boat Harbour campsite until well after sundown. Sometimes if it weren't for bad luck, you'd have no luck at all...
Thankfully the rest of the day was comparatively straightforward, and the pulled muscle in my back didn't inconvenience me too much. The remainder of the day's walk proved to be an absolute delight, starting with the traverse of a rare (and still poorly-understood) ecosystem known as the Showgrounds, where the dunes are covered in grasses and studded with conical hills. It was while I was stopped for lunch in the Showgrounds - home to a large population of western grey kangaroos - that I met a fellow hiker named Eunice, who I then walked alongside as we negotiated our way along the wind-blown sands of Quarram Beach.
Late in the day, with Eunice having gone off ahead and my earlier struggles having been largely forgotten, I remembered my encounter over breakfast and took a detour up each of the sandy vehicle tracks cutting across the Bibbulmun Track
Rocky Reef
Southern Ocean swells breaking over a shallow limestone shelf in the final kilometre before reaching the campsite. I wasn't disappointed. The first track left me high above a secluded, wave-pounded cove with seemingly no access other than by sea; while the second offered a stunning 240° panorama of the coastline stretching all the way back to Point Irwin from the previous day. I might have been through my fair share of suffering to get there, but at least it hadn't been in vain!
With Eunice, an exhausted David and a triple-hutting super-hiker named Perry, a quiet evening was enjoyed at the Boat Harbour campsite, before we set off the next morning under sunny skies to continue our ramble along the coast. Just below the campsite lay the eponymous Boat Harbour, surely the most well-protected (not to mention gorgeous) little cove on this entire stretch of coastline. Then it was back up into the dunes once more as we proceeded east towards the conical summit of Point Hillier, from where a fabulous 360° panorama was revealed.
When I passed David about an hour into the day he mentioned that he had already crossed paths with two snakes on the trail. After taking over the lead snake-spotting duties I
Interested Onlooker
The dugite that kept a close eye on me through the foliage then encountered another three within the next hour - including my first ever dugite (a species of brown snake). The second dugite I came across would have been at least 1.5m long (by comparison tiger snakes rarely exceed 1.2m in length) and took off like a rocket as soon as I got within five metres of it, which confirmed their reputation as being much more skittish than their counterparts, the tiger snakes - who will often lie dead still and refuse to give up their basking spots even as I pass within a metre or two of them, thus providing some wonderful photo opportunities! Thankfully a truce seemed to have been declared between myself and the tiger snakes of the Australian bush ever since the run-in I had with one in Victoria way back in March, and I had come to admire and respect these sleek predators without being unduly alarmed by their presence.
From Point Hillier the Track took a pronounced turn to the north, weaving down through intermittent peppermint thickets offering shady respite from the typical low heath. Eventually I reached the small car-based campground beside Parry Beach, where I stopped for lunch before setting out on
Another Day; Another Inlet Crossing
Parry Inlet emptying out across Mazzoletti Beach the 8km walk along Mazzoletti Beach. Just fifteen minutes into this extended beach walk came the second inlet crossing on this section of Track, this time the much narrower (and shallower) Parry Inlet. Despite the father and daughter I had passed heading in the opposite direction the day before having claimed in the log book at Boat Harbour that the water had been 'just below hip deep' I failed to even get my knees wet on the twenty metre crossing at the mouth of the inlet! How there could be such a discrepancy when the tides for the week were virtually non-existent I had no idea, but in any case I was free to enjoy the rest of the walk with bare feet and a contended smile.
Ignoring the official Bibbulmun Track exit from the beach, I continued on for a further kilometre to indulge in a refreshing swim (my first on the Track) at the beautiful Green's Pool, where a maze of granite boulders have created a safe swimming haven perfectly protected from the Southern Ocean swells that had been battering Mazzoletti Beach all afternoon. Then it was back to the Track for the final twenty-minute grunt uphill
Footprints in the Sand
Nothing but sand, wind and waves on Mazzoletti Beach to the shelter at William Bay campsite - just above which were a series of raised granite slabs from which the views extended all the way back over William Bay towards Point Hillier. It was from this point that the trail continued on for the final day's walk into Denmark, with some of the most spectacular coastal views unfolding after the Track arrived at the beautiful expanse of Lights Beach, from where it wound it's way up onto the clifftops offering truly mesmerising vistas at every turn.
As I was enjoying the never-ending views beyond Lights Beach, I couldn't help noticing the bank of dark grey clouds blowing in from the southwest... indeed I had hit the Track at the ungodly (for me) hour of 7:30am in the hope of at least getting up and over the summit of Mount Halliwell halfway through the day before the forecast showers and possible hailstorm hit. At first I wasn't too concerned as there was clearly no rain falling anywhere within sight, but when I turned around just ten minutes later I could see that showers were already falling in William Bay - at which point I decided it was high time
The Pounding of Southern Ocean Drums
Beautiful coastline seen from Lights Beach to get the hell out of the low heathland and scurry back to the shelter of the forest!
So I did my best impersonation of a trail runner (only with a 20kg pack on my back) and hightailed it off the dunes as quickly as I could. Within ten minutes I was back in the forest at the base of Mount Halliwell, and it seemed the first lot of rain had skirted past along the coast. Fifteen minutes later I was halfway up the 300m high mountain, where I scrambled up onto the granite dome of Monkey Rock. Capturing the impressive panorama with my camera, I started out facing Wilson Inlet and the Nullaki Peninsula to my left, before slowly spinning around to be confronted by an even more ominous wall of grey proceeding towards me; and just as I hit the shutter button for the final time the first fat raindrops began to fall. Knowing how dangerously slippery granite gets when it's wet, I once again found myself running to beat the coming onslaught... and once again I was successful in out-running the rain!
But after reaching a clearing beside a huge granite boulder and dropping my
Rock Scramble
Scaling Monkey Rock on the slopes of Mount Halliwell pack for ten minutes to indulge in a snack break - while enjoying more wonderful views toward the Nullaki Peninsula - my luck eventually, and inevitably, ran out. No sooner had I hoisted my pack and passed the summit of the mountain than the heavens finally opened above me - and it wouldn't stop raining until long after I reached Denmark two-and-a-half hours later! To say the descent from Mount Halliwell was treacherous would be an under-statement - countless times the Track would emerge from the forest at the edge of a granite slab slick with rain, which would then have to be crossed to reach the continuation of the trail on the other side. Still nursing a scar on my left leg from where I had slipped on a similar surface on Hinchinbrook Island three months earlier, I wasn't prepared to risk having history repeat itself... so time and again I would be forced to inch my way down through the sopping vegetation beside the granite slab in question, which served only to make me even more wet!
After what seemed like an eternity - but was probably closer to 45 minutes - I reached the base of
Distant Views
The view east from Monkey Rock, right before it started to rain the hill, from where there was just the small matter of a 9km trudge through inundated sections of walking trail and vehicle track to negotiate, before I finally reached the sanctuary of the Blue Wren Travellers Rest in the centre of Denmark - where I proceeded straight up the back steps, through the laundry and into the shower cubicle of the men's bathroom before I even bothered to take off my pack or my shoes... as far as I was concerned the sooner I got underneath a hot shower, the better! After spending the first ten minutes rinsing out my shoes and socks and the next ten minutes washing myself, I felt like a new man. The past week had had a little bit of everything: giant forests, mad trail runners, beautiful heathland studded with stunning wildflowers, a spectacular stretch of coastline seen both from sea level and high up on the clifftops, and finally a torrential downpour on the top of a mountain. If the final section through to Albany was even half as good as this, it would be a memorable one.
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