Larapinta Trail: Section 6 - Rocky gully to Ellery Creek Big Hole (south)

Day 10 of 18 Wednesday

Meandering mountain men, Rocky Gully LT

  Upon waking today I was dying to hear about how Big J’s night went with his new found furry friends, and I was rewarded with laughter over a morning brew.  Big J’s rendition of his midnight visitors was a rather colourful use of the English language, too colourful for me to repeat but funny as fuck to say the least. It would seem they did indeed get up close and personal, to describe them as rather brazen was beyond my wildest expectations.  I almost felt sorry for him when he told us of wrestling mice as big as cats and as thick as thieves crawling all over him in the wee hours of the night. It left me wondering if he was a fisherman in his last life but I suspected he was right because I’d heard them scurrying around all night as well. 

Today’s push was the final 15km to our second resupply for the trip at Ellery Creek south. Now Ellery Creek Big Hole is well known to me and pretty much anyone that has lived in Alice Springs for more than five minutes. It’s a picture perfect waterhole where the locals come to cool off from the baking sun during the warm months. Twenty-five years ago we used to go on a hard core four wheel drive adventure to the north side of the waterhole to escape the masses. These days there is a dirt connecting road that services the designated campground there. Another case of progress unfortunately that in my humble opinion robs the wilderness and exploration adventures to a lot of the red centres hidden gems. But I get it, better to have it looked after than left to masses to let it slowly deteriorate and become an eyesore with ad hock rubbish piles, scattered landmines of the human poo variety and scores of discarded toilet tissue around ramshackle camp sites like I had seen in other waterholes within the  region. But I digress. Personally I was looking forward to rekindling my love affair with desert icebergs and having a long overdue dip. It had now been a solid  three or four days sweating it out in the wilds and to say I was feeling a little unbathed was akin to saying that the pope is Catholic. 

Rough and ready for the day , Rocky Gully LT

But before we got to dive in we had to first get there and the map was telling me today was more of what we had encountered yesterday with a saddle through it to get the blood pumping. What did the map call it, traversing the wide rolling hill country that separates the Chewings Range from the Heavitree Range and today we were in for a treat with a touch of Mulga to mix it up from the low shrubs. What that translates to is baking sun, flies and not much to see. But given it was only 15km I figured we could just crack on, crunch out the miles and eat some flies. The reward was to be worth it at the end of the day so no harm, no foul and that’s what we did.

Pushing hard for the first 5km was actually quite relaxing. We saw flocks of Zebra Finches and Budgies exploding out of the grasslands and bushes as we encroached on their turf, moving gracefully in unison in great quantities. I tried desperately, in vain, to capture this on film but they swooped and dived so quickly the little old camera phone had no chance of capturing the moment.   At about the five kilometre mark we were fortunate to find rare shade in the form of a gnarly old ghost gum in a sandy creek bed, it made a great place for a brew and a chat.
The second five kilometres was more arduous, the sun was up and slowing cooking us like mud crabs in a pot and turning us a lovely shade of sunburn red to match. The flies were out in force crawling into eyes, noses, mouths and ears, the fuckers were the sticky incessant kind that wouldn’t go away regardless of what you did. They zap your spirit as they slurp up your juices and just generally leave you feeling pissed off with life 

Are we there yet !!!

.It wasn’t even summer so I definitely would not have wanted to be out here in the warmer months cause it would have been a truly spiteful experience. Here’s a tip, bring a fly net in the warmer months and a buff to cover up.

Arriving at the East Junction we opted for a quick break in the shade of a spindly beefwood tree. I managed to snap a picture of Irish that kind of summed up our feelings, it’s best described as no Mona Lisa but a cross between “are we there yet” and “fuck off, I dare you to say are we having fun yet” all mixed in with a cloud of flies hitching a ride on her dapper neon blue hat. If she didn’t look so angry I’d have laughed at her. Pushing on, it was around midday, the sun was high and the heat was really radiating off the ground and rocks as we clamoured up the Heavitree Range saddle. By the time we got to the top we were all pretty shattered and dripping in sweat. The descent down the other side was welcomed but the trail seemed to be meandering away from where I knew Ellery Creek to be and further away from our well-deserved swim. I couldn’t rationale why the trail was taking us this way on a vague meandering south west trail. I put it down to the national parks mob who made the trail to deliberately mess with our heads for shits and giggles or maybe my cooked crab of a brain was not thinking correctly. Either way it was souring my mood further as the trail just seemed to go on and on. In the end I wasn’t wrong because the map tells you the total length of Section 6 is 28.9km and hey presto a 30km trail marker popped up magically within spitting distance of our final destination.  After another good kilometre or so I could see we were drawing nearer and wouldn’t you know it instead of going round a final short, sharp, steep hill as a final fuck you for the day it went straight up the steepest part. The only positive out of that final trail fuck you was a nice little view overlooking the camp area and the gap in the ranges where Ellery Creek was hiding out.

Larapinta trail Wild Flower’s near Rocky gully

Setting up camp was a bit of a challenge and there wasn’t really any descent camps sites left  because all the good ones had been taken by the grey nomads and the weekend warriors with their fancy four wheel drive rigs and camper vans. But we managed to nestle down beside the amenities block which also housed the resupply room for our next box of goodies. But before I tackled that a swim was in order to wash off the trail blood, sweat and tears. Big J was with us this time and being the seasoned Central Australian man that he is I figured he knew what he was in for when it comes to the freshness of waterholes in the region. I was hilariously wrong. Selecting a quiet area away from the few roaming people and as it was getting late in the afternoon we sauntered down to the water’s edge. Dipping our toes in we grunted against the cold and with the male bravado of each man on show no man was going to show weakness and squeal about it as we waded out into the water.   Getting to about the level where the family jewels would get wet we both paused and looked at each other, the other not wanting to moan about the cold. I looked around, a little old lady off in the distance was sitting at the water’s edge smiling that knowing smile. She knew what was coming. Turning to Big J I said matter of fact, “there’s only one way to do this mate” and dived in. Letting out a stifled grunt and oozing fake bravado, I was up to my neck in ‘freeze the balls of a brass monkey’ cold water. I just smiled a shit eating grin and said the water was fine.  Big J looked at me unconvinced but knew he had to go through with it and dived in. Well the squeals that came out of his mouth were like high school girls at a blue light disco when a favourite Justin Beaver song came on. He turned and bolted out, walking on water like Jesus and wishing he could have parted the waters like Moses. Well the little old lady almost wet her pants with laughter. I laughed, we all laughed together.  Rubbing it in further I called out to the little old lady, “did you see that?”. Her reply bit “hard to miss that song and dance, a bit fresh is it” and we all laughed again. No compassion for Big J’s wounded pride- it’s the Australian way

Ellery Creek Big Hole (southern view)