It was well after 5pm, darkness was fast approaching and it was raining. The kids were hungry, I was getting grumpy and looking forward to getting to camp when we turned off the blacktop onto the road to Palm Valley. This sign greeted us. Jo and I exchanged looks, you know the one, the one that normally precedes damage to our gear - or occasionally glory. It was time to check out other options.
The road into Palm Valley... the way we like it - normally
A quick check of the map and wiki-camps revealled nothing promising nearby. In short there was no plan B. A quick discussion with Jim and Kylie and we agreed to push on. After all, how bad could it really get?
We let some air out of the tyres before we commenced heading down the track. The track followed the Finke River - meaning it was mostly on a firm base of river gravel. We made good progress, all the while expecting horrendous conditions around the next corner, and found none. In fact it took us about half an hour to get to the campsite - a relatively easy drive.
We soon set up our campers and tucked into dinner, all the while the rain kept coming down. It was freezing cold to boot. It was almost a novelty for us to experience cold wet rain - but poor Kylie and Jim and been trying to escape this weather and couldn't believe it had followed them from home! We agreed to take the next day easy and have a rest day.
The following day was still wet, but we explored the campground. The facilities were really good, and the camping fees about half that of Western Australia. Palm Creek running past the camp was filled with crystal clear water that made an unusual backdrop in this normally dry landscape.
With a load of wood brought in from the side of the road the day before, and a day sitting around camp, we soon had a great fire blazing away. As the fire reduced to coals the campovens came out and we had our first camp oven dinner of the trip. Kylie's secret to a great roast is to keep the oven filled to the base of the trivet with water to keep everything moist and to cook it all slowly slowly. The best part about this type of cooking is that you need to sort of supervise it - usually with some form of fire extinguisher in hand (available in golden hand size cans). By the time dinner was ready we had caught up on all the news from home and were thoroughly enjoying our rest day.
Whilst the adults were 'supervising' dinner, the kids were running amok. Three boys on bikes were soon exploring the campground when somehow they found a 'much-deeper-than-it-looked' puddle. There was no point in fighting it - we just let them have a ball until their brains finally realised their hands and feet were freezing!
Who needs computer games?
The next morning the sun was shining and it was time to venture into Palm Valley. It became clear as we pulled out of the camp ground that the warning signs at the entrance really referred to this part of the track. The 4km into the parking area took us about half an hour as we crawled over rock shelves and along sandy ruts. We took things nice and slowly and thankfully didn't put any new dents in Rocky's underbelly. As we came into the gorge, the magnificent colours came to the fore, freshly washed after the rain everything seemed brighter and sharper.
In this part of the desert, hundreds of kilometres from their closest living relatives are Cycads and Red-cabbage Palms. They are relics from much wetter times when rainforest covered this whole area. Somehow the sandstone percolates ancient rainwater (some 30 000 years old) out into the gorge, and these palms have clung to existance in this real oasis in the desert.
We took the 5km loop walk that was signposted a three hour walk. Taking lunch with us, and a little backtracking for a misplaced walking stick, we found ourselves returning to the carpark after a good five hours. Camera memory cards were filling up - but we loved every minute in the gorge.
We regrouped at camp and then headed to a nearby lookout for sunset. We went prepared with drinks and nibblies and sat down to watch the sun set over this ancient land. As the colours changed, we witnessed the glorious spectacle from our vantage point. A couple of hikers passed us on their trek to the lookout - and their envious glances at our little spread meant we were doing something right!
In all we spent three glorious nights at Palm Valley. It was wonderful fun to be sharing some of our travels with friends, and we really enjoyed their company.
Like all good things though, it was soon to come to an end. We planned going our separate ways from Hermannsberg.
Hermannsberg was a Luthern Mission established in the 1870s, later closed and then reopened in the 1890s. The tenacity, fortitude and vision of the founders cannot be questioned, and one of its most famous residents for a while was Albert Namitjira. Today the grounds are a museum, and we spent a good while wandering around the former mission grounds.
The architecture was an impressive collection of materials at hand fashioned into a distinctly Luthern look. It wasn't until the 1930s that the mission had reliable water - meaning the early years were extremely tough. With reliable water, the mission expanded, before being handed back to the Aboriginal landowners in the 1980s.
There was plenty to see here, but the kids really loved playing on the old tractors and other machinery that was lying around. Some of the artwork for sale in the entrance was simply exquisate - and worthy of a look if you're in the Red Centre.
Whilst we were at Hermannsberg, Kylie found out that the friends they were planning on meeting in Alice Springs that evening we still in Darwin with car trouble. We decided to camp a little closer to Alice Springs on the Hugh River, whilst we investigated our travelling options. The boys did a little whoop for joy when they realised that George would be around for at least another night. The three of them sat in the back of our car chattering all the way to our next camp.
And what a camp it was. Free. On the edge of a water hole. Great company. Heaps of seasoned river red gum timber to make a great cooking fire lying around... sold. There are worse places to work out what you're going to do next.
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