The lake closed again sometime on the night/early morning of the 19th-20th of April and it has been slowly filling since then. After spotting a couple of kayaks in Little Cuttagee during the weekend we knew there was enough water to navigate the strait. So yesterday R joined us for a leisurely cruise and picnic lunch to see what we could see.
Setting off at 10.50 we first checked out the top of Little Cuttagee then headed up to the bridge, where the retired engineer checked out the sorry state of the concrete piers. None of the cars which passed over while we were there were sticking to the 10kph speed limit - perhaps a speed camera would help - and raise a heap of money for the bridge restoration! Crystal clear, shallow water resulted in lots of time spent just gliding and peering over the side.
Paddling up the lake groups of grebe skittered off across the water ahead of us. At 12.05pm we stopped in the Clearwater backwater for lunch. Sitting in the sun, watching an Azure Kingfisher hunting along the shoreline nearby and being entertained by a large mob of Superb Fairy Wrens foraging and twittering in the samphire beside us. Before we knew it an hour and 20mins had gone by and it was time to pack up and head home.
Passing a group of Chesnut Teal.
R took over Go Pro duties - unfortunately I set the the angle too low (which we didn't realise until reviewing the footage; then we had some technical issues and several times it refused - understandably - to respond when R called it Hey Google. 😄😄 - we had lots of laughs on the way back.
Other than a couple of schools of 1cm fry we didn't see any sign of fish - but we didn't see any jellyfish either!
It's 7.15am on our final morning. A mixture of our campfire smoke and mist swirl over the water as the first rays of sun hit the gorge wall.
Only having a short paddle ahead of us today meant we were in no rush to depart and so enjoyed a long leisurely breakfast sitting around the fire. Around 9.30am we started to pack up camp.
About halfway through the irksome task.
With camp packed up the next job was to get the gear down to the boats (without going A over T) and load them up. That done, it was time to put out the fire and have a last look around camp before heading off.
One last look up the Gorge while waiting to give L a shove.
At 12.35am the last of us back out of camp with time
for one last pic before we head back down the gorge under
clear blue skies on another perfect autumn day.
No GoPro today, so just a few pics along the way.
Once again the reflections entranced
Around 2.00pm we pulled into Tom's Gully (I think its called) for 30 to 40 minutes for some lunch. As it consisted mainly of remainders it was an interesting mixture - a bit of salami, scroggin, some manky mars bars that had been on way too may hikes with G without being eaten and some beef jerky that had been suffering the same fate as the mars bars and was only 6 months past its best by date and finally a couple of by now, rather battered mandarins.
We then paddled the remaining 2.5km back to the picnic area, arriving at 3.15pm.
Happy little campers after 4 days of glorious paddling.
Unlike our previous trip in March and in the years before that, our camping experience was critter free - no rat raids, no possums breaking into tents or trying to prise open hatch covers on the kayaks, no goannas wandering through camp AND no mozzies.
We got back to Kangaroo Valley around 5.00pm to find it much busier than when we left. After checking back into Wildes (Due to the hot water issue, G had arranged a great deal for another nights stay) it was 'we're going to wash that smoke right out of my hair' all round. We then went for dinner at Jing Jo cafe for a highly enjoyable dinner and evening. We were the last to leave. Eventually taking the hint as the restaurant was getting cleaned up around us, with fully tummies, we waddled back to Wilde's to collapse into very comfortable beds. Bliss
Lastly, a big thank you to KT for allowing me to use some of her fantastic photos for the blogs of this trip.
First up this morning, I emerged from the tent to a cold, cold breeze blowing down the gorge and rattling through camp, so it was back into the tent to don even more layers. Being the first up the happy task of relighting the fire fell to me. By the time the chief fireman appeared a small blaze was merrily burning - under his untender ministration it soon expanded in size and started to throw out lots of lovely heat.
As the breeze grew in strength the prospects of paddling were not looking good so we huddled around the fire drinking copious cups of tea and coffee, chewing the fat while waiting to see what the day would bring.
About 10.30am it brought a lessening of the breeze and the two 'old blokes' (turned out they were a lot younger than us) in a double kayak who had started out the morning of our day paddle and whom we had talked to briefly. They pulled over for a chat. Declining our offer of a cup of tea, they told us that they had looked for this camp but had been unable to find it (lucky us) and so had paddled further up the gorge to camp. It was their first time on Lake Yarrunga and they were already planning a return trip with their grandchildren so they too could enjoy the unique experience of the Shoalhaven Gorge.
By the time they paddled on the breeze had died away almost completely and it was time to get ready to paddle.
L making the campfire safe before we depart.
We got away a tad before noon
and headed up the gorge.
KT pointed out a trickling waterfall high on the cliff -
This is where it emerged into the lake. It would be a sight to behold after heavy rain. And of course the GoPro battery ran out just before I reached it!
After a quick halt to change the battery we poddled on
Occasionally paddling,
then back to poddling, entranced by the reflections;
but mainly, drifting, lost in the beauty and
and grandeur of our surrounds. It was wonderful and heartwarming to see the vibrancy of the forest after the devastation caused by the drought and Black Summer fires.
One of the many 'rock gardens' that caught KT's eye.
We checked out each of the campsites as we passed.
Continuing on
we passed piles of old flood debris often being led by kingfishers flittering from branch to branch ahead.
By now it was very cool in the shaded sections and in these we no longer lingered.
Paddling through the largely submerged rock garden - our destination only a couple of hundred metres to go.
We reached Wirritin about 2.00pm. KT noticing this clam lipped liked fungi as she checked out the site.
We also noticed, for the first time, the dark clouds that had been following us up the gorge.
After eating lunch and surmising that rain was on the way we decided not to paddle up to the rapid so L sent the drone up whilst the rest of us donned our wet weather gear before taking to the water for the return trip. L continuing to fly the drone as we set off about 2.40pm.
Sure enough, as we launched, light rain started to fall. As with the Azure Kingfishers, for a while we followed what I think was a Black Bittern down the gorge.
Having waited for L to catch up (and pass me by), KT and the chief campfire man had paddled far ahead of us.
As L predicted, by the time we reached camp (around 4.00pm) the fire was burning brightly - a beacon to welcome us home. But not only that - the paddles were back in situ holding up the front of the tarp and the cooking set up and chairs had been moved to shelter. All thanks to the WunderKampers KT&G.
Not long after we landed the rain increased and we sheltered under the tarp with a hot cup of soup and some mini savoury muffins, watching the the sun sink behind the rim of the gorge.
Thankfully the rain didn't last long and by the time the last of the sunlight was reflected in the clouds it had nearly ceased and
it wasn't long before we were seated around the campfire. Just before dark we were visited by another helicopter which flew slowly over our camp barely clearing the edge of the gorge and ominously outlined in the last of the evening light. Creepy.
More creepy - cold, wet creepy this time was that our tent had leaked again - worse than in March. Its definitely time for a new one.
With another substantial Wilde's breakfast under our belts we left Kangaroo Valley just after 8.30am to return to Tallowa Dam. It took awhile to get the gear and boats down to the water and then a while longer to stuff a seeming mountain of stuff into hatches that seemed a lot smaller than when we did a practice run at home.
Eventually, with much pushing and shoving, a spot was found for everything and at 10.25am we launched for our jaunt up the Shoalhaven Gorge.
Keeping well clear of the spillway we got our first glimpse of the gorge ahead.
The first part of the paddle was upon glassy water,
however as we approached the amphitheatre a slight breeze 'back' breeze started gently helping us along the way.
KT & G were awed by the height of the cliffs and how insignificant we humans had become.
Poddling, then
drifting, before
poddling some more we slowly made progress up the gorge.
There is Monarch Bluff in the distance. It is under its watchful gaze we hope to make our home for the next two nights.
More drifting and gazing - we were in danger of getting cricks in our necks.
KT's close up of Monarch Bluff
To our delight when we reached Monarch camp, at 12.05pm, we found it vacant and set about laying claim.
By 12.32 we had the last of the gear unloaded - how did all that fit in our boats? - and after selecting tent sites we started to erect camp.
KT & G, practised campers, had their tent up in a jiff and sleeping gear sorted soon after.
Whilst L & I were still muddling along erecting our tent, KT set up the cook site and G gathered a mountain of firewood for the cold night ahead. Eventually, with the sleeping arrangements sorted and the tarp set up to shelter us from the forecast rain it was time to relax with a cup of tea and a snack; soaking up the warmth of the afternoon sun and listening to the singing competition of the Lyrebirds ringing out around our camp.
As the heat of the day started to leak away G lit the campfire and it was soon time to start adding layers clothing. Sitting around the campfire as dusk fell, the Lyrebirds were still at it and we could hear one, close by, chortling and singing and rustling in the forest. Suddenly KT spotted it, high in a tall, skinny casuarina overlooking our camp. Outlined in the last of the evening light it sang, as if to us, its repertoire before flying/gliding clumsily down into the bush somewhere behind our camp. A truly magic moment.
Later that night, replete, after a delicious ragu and pasta, courtesy of KT, we heard a strange noise which, after some thought, KT identified as the bleating of a goat and L&I remembered seeing one across the river on our first ever trip up the gorge.
No rain having eventuated and despite the nip in the air we enjoyed sitting around and watching the 'bush telly' for a few hours before retiring to bed.
You will see in the footage below that little remains of the ghost forest, the Black Summer fires of 2019/2020 and the subsequent floods having destroyed the majority of it. L sent the drone up 100m which gives you some idea of the height of the cliffs around Monarch Bluff. Further up the gorge they reach heights of 400m.
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