LAKELAND - MOSSMAN (15 JULY 2013)

On the basis of the 'precautionary principle' we made a booking at Mossman for one week with the view that if all went well, we would extend to two.  A beach some 15 kms or so to the north of Mossman had been in my sights for some time, but pet compatibility and the facilities offered remained unknowns.  A recce was called for before any decisions were taken.

 

 

So it was farewell to Lakeland and the dry tropics as we retraced our steps south along the Mulligan Highway where we continued to share the blacktop with wandering cattle at a number of points (this is part of the country where the signs 'Beware Cattle On Road' are taken seriously)

as we made our way further south through the picturesque Sussex Range to its crest ridge

where a significant climb or descent as the case may be is rewarded with spectacular views back over the range, and, in the other direction

across the plains below on the approach to Mount Carbine and beyond.







This is the last of the real driving challenges on this stretch of the highway (we came up in 3rd and descended in 2nd).  Although a few hilly sections lie between here and Mount Molloy, where we turned off the Mulligan to make our way down the eastern slopes of the Great Dividing Range to Mossman, there is nothing to compare with this mountain.

We did not stop at Mount Molloy on our outward journey but did so on our return.  From the infrastructure evident along the short main street, which is really the highway, a great deal of its current day survival is obviously linked directly to tourism.

Just to the north of the town the Rifle Creek free campsite attracts myriads of RVers who are entitled to a 48 hours stay in what has to be one of the better sites of its type. At the time we travelled through it was relatively quiet compared to what we had noted previously.  This is one of those spots where a very early arrival reaps the reward of a choice site, and, as those with experience know, allows the space to extend one's awning before the hordes descend on every available inch of space.

This photo shows but half of the area set aside for this park which we estimate could be holding anything up to fifty rigs on any given afternoon at this time of the year. Aside from the fact that there is no formal park in Mount Molloy, the area is noted for the plethora of birdlife which abounds in the surrounding hills.  Many we know have spent their full 48 hours here in pursuit of feathered sightings.  Apart from that, it is a convenient resting place when travelling to and from the Cape or up from the coast.

A short walk from the camp into town brings one to the excellent Mount Molloy pub,

where, for the princely sum of $6.00, more than adequate lunches are available in either the





 

 

'colourful' front bar

or the adjacent  'rustic' beer garden.

Liz and I made a return visit to Mount Molloy whilst in Mossman and partook of the fare on offer.  To be frank, for the price, I expected minute servings of the limited menu choices available, but no....Liz had a barra burger to rival any we have seen elsewhere in the $15 - $20 price range and my cottage pie and veggies was quite enough to blunt the inner gnawings.  To add to our delight, another couple munching away at the same time noticed the Glenelg SLSC T shirt I was wearing.  Long story short...not only were they from Adelaide but knew one of my old surf club mates who was also a stalwart of the Brighton Rugby Club where he had played for many years in the same team as our new acquaintance.  I must say I was somewhat relieved to have had this encounter.  Our 'we know everyone in Australia' yarns have been a bit thin on the ground this trip compared to last year.

Apart from the pub, those in search of food and drink are catered for at the nearby café/service station, or at a third food outlet which boasts the 'best hamburgers in the world' (a sign we have seen on many such establishments...ACCC investigators have been dispatched!)  We were initially going to put this claim to the test, until seduced by the siren call  of the pub's $6.00 offerings.

A post office, souvenir shop and one other tempting punters to leave with an array of boulder opal pieces, complete the commercial picture of Mount Molloy's main drag.  But I did note one curious derelict building on the edge of town, which indicated to me that there was more to Mount Molloy than currently met the eye.

And so it was.  Enquiries with a few of the locals revealed that the town had begun life in the late 1800's as a thriving copper mine.  A large sawmill was later added to the industrial landscape.  This ruin is that of the boiler complex which provided steam driven power for the mine machinery, smelter and for the saw mill.  Ghosts of the past!

At Mount Molloy we left the Mulligan Highway and travelled through the last of the 'dry tropic' grazing lands where eucalypts and lush grasslands were the main features of the landscape

until, with almost a flick of a switch, we found ourselves once again in the 'wet tropics'.  The difference....rainfall.  Once out of the rain shadow of the Great Divide and onto its eastern slopes, the eucalypts give way to the dense tropical forests which can only survive and flourish in areas of high and constant rainfall.  It is almost like crossing South Australia's Goyder line.  The entire topography changes almost instantly.

Fortunately for weary drivers towing big lumps behind them, the steep descent down to the coastal plains is relatively short, a mere 8 kms or so.  And as with most of these challenges come rewards...some great views.....

(this one along the Daintree coast  towards Cape Tribulation would have been infinitely better if the day had not been so hazy.)

With the ranges behind us we finally made our way through the main street of Mossman

to the entrance of the Mossman Caravan Park, our home for the next week, if not two (as it eventuated).  The large car park pictured serves to house the vehicles of those using the 50 metre public pool which is now part of the caravan park complex, but, as we noted later is also used as an overflow park at this time of the year for those waiting for an available site.




We still cannot believe that people just show up at places as popular as this with the expectation that a site will be available....utter naivety.  We had booked well in advance, although we were somewhat miffed to discover that to secure a second week we had to make a decision within the next two days and pay the full amount in advance.  This was to be the first a number of incidents and observations which have led us to conclude that those running this establishment have a great deal to learn about doing it properly.

But, minor annoyances aside, our site was a beauty.  Plenty of room, a good slab, and, most importantly of all,

a good grassy rear 'beer garden' where the washing line can take pride of place until happy hour.

And of course, once settled in for a reasonable stay, the urge to fire up the galley and replenish the freezers with all sorts goodies invariably rears its head (all under the watchful eye of the killer guard cat)
 

 

Our choice of this park was driven in part by the fact that, as I mentioned previously, it houses the town's very good 50 metre swimming pool, access to which is free for park guests.  

 

 

Despite a 'chilly' water temperature of 24 degrees (not at all cold for us southerners) I had been making the most of the chance to reverse the detrimental effects happy hour has on one's physique when, as I reported earlier, I was struck down with shingles, the result of which, five days later, is this wonderful sight (and it is still a work in progress). Go the anti-virals!  And if I needed any other evidence of being unwell, the fact that 'the matron' has been sympathetic and very 'nurse-like' is a dead giveaway!

 

Fortunately we had managed to visit the Mossman Gorge, Wonga and Newell Beaches and the Daintree and Cape Tribulation before things had deteriorated to the point where a lack of sleep and general malaise rendered me somewhat less than normally energetic.  More of those adventures, the Mossman show, and Mossman township to come, but probably not for a few days. 

We leave Mossman tomorrow morning (Monday 29th) for three days at Fishery Falls and thence back to Kurrimine where, hopefully, available time and renewed vigour will enable me to catch up blogwise.  Until then, "pass the pills!"
 

 

LAURA (14 JULY 2013)

Why bother with a visit to Laura, a tiny little FNQ outback town which lies some 60 kms north-west of Lakeland astride the road to Weipa and the Tip?  The answer..aboriginal rock art, recognized as being one of the ten most significant sites of its kind in the world.  Whilst it would be drawing an extremely long bow to claim that either of us are recognized devotees of  aboriginal culture, it seemed silly to be so close and not have a look at something of such renown.

 

So off we went, across the tableland and into the escarpment country on the approach to Laura.

 

 

Laura itself lies beyond the entrance to the site we were to visit so we decided to see what this gem of the outback had to offer before beginning our cultural activities.

 

This sortie did not delay our primary activities for too long.  There is not a great deal of Laura, as this shot of its main street demonstrates, but what there was we found fascinating.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Let's go beyond the end of the main drag to the nearby airport.  We were initially surprised to find a very good, sealed all weather strip of some length, surprised that is until we took a good look at the tin shed next to the strip.

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

We decided that the 'resident' stretcher said it all.  This strip is obviously designed to cater for the RFDS, apart from any other commercial or private use.

 

 

 

 

 

Notwithstanding its limited size, Laura's infrastructure provided all that could be reasonably required by locals and visitors.

 

 

 

 

 

Fuel, postal services and provisions at the local store,

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

refreshment and meals at the quaint Quinkan Hotel right next door

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

and, for those beset by mechanical problems on the track, our observations of the workshop in the main street (seen here at the right of the shot) were such as to conclude that this was one of those typically outback establishments were the proprietor could fix just about anything.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And for those who have just had enough, the local caravan park appeared to be of a reasonable standard and somewhat different, if the entrance sign is anything to go by.

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

 

And, of course, no town of substance is complete without its own police station

 

 

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

and Town Hall.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I was fascinated by the odd looking white-topped posts arrayed in front of this seat of local power.  The things you find.  They are part of what is the town's 'site of remembrance' with each post housing a bronze plaque commemorating a specific theatre of war.  And there on the end of the row.....

 

 

I could hardly believe my eyes.  The fact that the service of Peacekeepers has been specifically honoured in such a tiny place as Laura struck me as indicative of the burgeoning recognition our group is gaining throughout Australia.  Anyway, enough naval gazing...

 

I suspect that a visit to Laura's main street at any time will always provide the visitor with a sight such as this.

 

 

On this particular occasion the occupants of these two vans, which had so obviously just arrived off the track, were busily re-inflating tyres with their compressors and munching away on what we suspect may have been the best ice creams they have ever eaten.  It really is a different world out here.

 

Before we went rock hopping, we decided we really should have a look at the unsealed road north which begins just beyond the town limits.  We had heard that the corrugations were horrendous. Our informants did not deceive us!

Unfortunately this shot does not do justice to the actual state of the road.   You can just see some of the surface ruts in the foreground, but believe me, it was rough.  A couple of hundred metres was more than enough to convince us that this was a venture for much younger people with rigs about which they cared little in terms of things coming loose.  And 650 kms of this before one even gets to Weipa!  Not for us.

Our jaunt to the nether regions did offer another surprise....one of the prettiest local creeks we had come across. 

 

Crystal clear water flowing over grey granite rocks with jungle perch lazing in the current and not a croc. warning sign in sight. What a picture....and us without the picnic basket!  Next time.

 

But off for some culture.  We made our way back to the other end of Laura where we did the right thing and bought our two $5.00 entry passes into the Split Rock art site at the Quinkan Centre. Guided tours are available, but we decided the self guided version would suffice. And we were off.  The folk in the left of this shot were part of a tour bus group headed in the same direction...we were keen to get there first.

Another 10 kms back towards Lakeland and we were approaching the escarpment in which the artworks are to be found.




 
Interestingly, when we reached the car park at the base of the climb to the site, we found that we could have paid our fee per the honour box.   My cynical ex-copper's mind immediately thought, "yeah, right I wonder just how many actually do the right thing"  Very few apparently.  A recent article on the site in the local rag was lamenting the fact that if there is not an improvement in the general honesty of the visiting punters, the site may be closed.  Liz and I both have a general view about those who would fail to pay.....you find them in free camps all over the place!

Enough sniping. Map in hand, off we went.  The sign at the entrance to the trail cautioned about some very steep spots.  Where were they?  How hard can this be?

We soon found out as the climb became harder,

and harder

and harder.  But at least here there was a rail for the very welcome assistance of those of us with dicky knees.

One advantage of the slow climb was that it did allow time to take in the scenery on our ascent.

Finally, the hard climb was over and we were nearing our goal.

 


As we rounded this impressive rock face,

we finally reached the platform leading to the first of the sites we were to visit, the Split Rock site, so named, as we discovered

for obvious reasons. The crack between these two huge rocks rose at least 30 metres above the gallery platform.







And there it was, the gallery of rock art reputed to be in the vicinity of 30,000 years old.

These three figures depict an echidna (on the right of the shot), a woman (on the left) and between them, a bad spirit, distinguished from the good spirits, 'The Quinkans', by its knobby appendages and twisted limbs.

Lest any think I had become an instant expert on aboriginal art, you will see in the general shot ,a series of plaques along the barrier fence which provided all this information.




From the Split Rock site it was a short ramble to the next, 'The Flying Fox' site,








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where we found the depictions quite self explanatory

Another short walk took us to the last of the three sites

where the depicted spirits are the 'goodies', the so called Quinikans, the name which has been adopted by the information centre and the Laura pub, which hopefully does provide 'good spirits' (sorry, that was just too good to pass up!)




Our frank opinion of what we had seen?  For us who have sat under the massive rock ledges of Kakadu and viewed similar aboriginal offerings...somewhat underwhelming. 

But this comment is one of comparison of scale only.  What I continue to find absorbing at sites such as these is the thought that I am standing where a fellow human being stood all those myriads of years ago looking out at exactly the same scenery, such as we could see on our descent (without the ribbon of highway which can just be seen mid shot)

For some perspective, the tiny blue dot right in the middle of this photo is the kayak on top of the cruiser in the site car park.  At this point we were half way back down the track.

All in all this is a pretty impressive place, one I would certainly recommend to others for its historical and international significance if nothing else.

Before I close, a brief personal note.  We have now been in Mossman for ten days during which time we have visited the famous Mossman Gorge, the Daintree area, Cape Tribulation and Mount Molloy. 

Future missives of these adventures may be a little slow coming.  Last Monday  afternoon (it is now Friday 26th), after a long and strenuous session in the pool,  I developed what I'll stoically describe as 'significant' pain in my right side.  This progressed in severity to the point I was beginning to think I must have torn an intercostal muscle or, impossible as it sounds, broken a rib.  None of the above.....Liz had her suspicions all along which were confirmed when, yesterday morning, I awoke to find a blistered rash on my right torso...shingles?  I was fortunate to be able to see a local GP later that same morning (that's another story in itself for a later blog) who confirmed the matron's diagnosis.  Shingles it is.

The only upside is that I have begun a course of anti-viral medication within the 72 hour window of major efficacy (from the time the rash appears), and we are soon to return to Kurrimine Beach for a month.  With a bit of luck I should be relatively active again within three to four weeks, but in the interim, I can expect to be a tad slow out of the blocks (they got that right!).   I therefore crave your patience dear readers if I am not quite as productive as usual for a while.  And yes, you are spot on...not bloody happy, Jan.  Forced inactivity is to me just like involuntary savings....any who laud the advantages of either are merely indulging in ratbag rationalisation!