Kangaroo Island –A place of spectacular coastal scenery, abundant wildlife and beautiful wildflowers in Spring
Snake Lagoon & Rocky River
by Ann from Sydney, Flinders Rangers, September 2006
We walked along past Snake Lagoon down Rocky River's run.
Reflections in the upper flow were sparkling in the sun.
Further down the pace picked up with tumbling waterfalls.
We scrambled down from rock to rock between the valley walls.
High above were limestone caves, their mouths agape with teeth,
old stalactites and stalagmites, they grinned on us beneath.
The little beach came into view, waves gently running in,
when suddenly a rogue swept up to drench us to the skin.
The rocks were weathered finely in patterns black and grey,
to eerie shapes like sculptured beasts, carved out of ancient clay.
We stayed and watched the waves roll in, an eagle's soaring grace.
Then climbed back up the rugged track, into the wood's embrace.
Along the sandy woodland path four beetles milled around,
busy digging little holes into the dusty ground.
One beetle dug in really deep and disappeared from view.
Two others got their heads right in, then stopped, to start anew.
The fourth one wandered up and down but couldn't choose a place.
We tried to help it dig a hole but dusted up its face!
It stumbled sideways off the path into a rocky lair.
Inside its web of woven silk, a spider waited there.
We saved the beetle from this plight and carefully put it back.
Decided to leave well alone and walked on up the track.
Back to Snake Lagoon and tea and lots of kangaroos,
ignoring us completely as they took their daytime snooze.
Flinders Ranges National Park – a place of beautiful walks in rocky gorges, awesome semi-arid mountainous landscape and plants clinging to survival.
Black Gap walk up Bumbinyunna Creek
by Ann from Sydney, Flinders Rangers, September 2006
We walked along the dry creek bed, our boots on fractured rock,
while towering up on either side, high walls of red stone blocks.
Long grooves and ledges water-worn and smoothed along the grain,
bring images of waterfalls in times greater rain.
Round every turn a new view waits to titillate the eye,
with backdrop of the mountain range, its bones exposed to sky.
Bushes struggle on the rocks and stands of native pine.
One wonders how they hang on there with soil so thin and fine.
Giant river red gums grew, with broken limbs quite stark,
yet stately still with all their scars and multicoloured bark.
Their giant girths spell years of life, far more than human span.
They cling to life despite the odds, defying nature's plan.
At the top some kangaroos hopped by with fluid grace
and up the craggy steep rock cliff, they hardly changed their pace.
We paused a while to watch them move in games of hide and seek,
before retracing all our steps down Bumbinyunna creek.
Arkaroola 4WD Tour
by Ann from Sydney, Flinders Rangers, September 2006
We squeezed into the four-wheel drives, sat five upon each side
and held on tight as we set off, along the bumpy ride.
Once through the gate the track got rough, we jostled all around
and stones flew out beneath the wheels along the rutted ground.
The road was built by companies to find wealth in the rocks.
Ores and minerals to raise the value of their stocks.
With poor returns the company decided to resign
and visitors can now enjoy this place's grand design.
Along the way we learned about the ancient hilly land,
formed on sea beds long ago from stones and silt and sand.
Compressed and heated into rock which made the mountain range
and weathered into awesome shapes both beautiful and strange.
We saw the curly mallee gum, dead finish, bullock bush,
Senna, wattle, coolibah, all flashed past in a whoosh.
All struggled in the arid air, quite stunted as they strived.
Remnants of a gentler clime, these few have still survived.
Then Mal our driver, with a smile, said "Hang on really tight,
for this is where adventure starts", careening left and right!
The slope grew steep, we all slid back, squeezed tight upon the seat
and each his neighbour got to know, at shoulder, hips and feet!
At the end the trucks pulled up and parked atop a hill.
With precipice on every side we cheered their driving skill.
From Sillers lookout on the top, landmarks were pointed out.
Mount Painter and the Freeling Heights, the Armchair, round and stout.
Eighteen hundred thousand years, the rock's age where we stood.
The oldest rock in all the world, it still looked pretty good!
Beyond the plains we saw a line, the silver of Lake Frome.
It felt great just to stand up there, a thousand miles from home.
Iga Warta
by Ann from Sydney, Flinders Rangers, September 2006
Within the Flinders Ranges is a place called Iga Warta.
Home of the native orange tree and a tribal son and daughter,
who walked the land from their Queensland home, a walk to test their mettle.
They went far south and west and east, 'till stopping here to settle.
They made a home and children grew and spread out all around.
So when you see the Iga tree, that's how it claimed this ground.
The Ad-nyama-thanha people, or people of the rock,
came with the Iga orange tree, of ancient native stock.
Six brothers of these people now run safari stays,
where visitors can come and learn their story and their ways.
They made a glowing camp fire and brought a kangaroo.
With fur singed off and wrapped in leaves, they left it there to stew.
In the hours that it was cooking, Sharpy took us for a walk,
around about the local plants. He gave us quite a talk,
of fruit to eat and seeds for flour and roots and leaves to savour.
Medicines and calming brews, we sampled their strange flavour.
He led us on and up the hill, we followed him entranced,
while shadows from the setting sun, around the bushes danced.
The kangaroo and vegetables made up a sumptuous feed
and ice cream with a quandong sauce and roasted wattle seed.
We then retired to campfire seats, for stories, songs and jokes
and Terry told with his guitar, the "dreaming" of his folks.
He cooked up damper in the fire, served hot with jam and cream.
Without a speck of ash or dirt, it broke with fragrant steam.
The next day Sharpy took us to a very special place.
A cave with paintings on the wall, a story of his race.
The ochre, clay and chalky marks gave news of long ago;
of meetings, feasts and hunting trips and journeys to and fro.
Our stay at Iga Warta's one we never will forget,
along with Sharpy's rules for life, "to care, share and respect".
