Thursday 18 May 2023 Lake Yarrunga Day 3: Monarch to Wirritin return

 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.