Ben Gunn
On a lovely grey, not-so-cold day in Autumn, us mob of eleven intrepids took to the hills in search of cultural heritage and a good time. First a quick run to the top of Paddy’s Castle, well ideally, but not so quick for us eleven….it being quite a bit steeper than we remembered, and there’s a wee step just before the crest…But once atop the view was stubbornly spectacular…well, that bit that lay out below the low belly of a rain-promising blanket. And indeed it was soul lifting Then, trying to remember a short-cut that didn’t end in a vertical cliff, we sauntered down like well-trained kangaroos heading for water. Slip, jump; and there we were at the grille of the Scrubby Creek 1 art site. A little explanation of what was to be seen (it definitely needs interpretation as it contains the greatest quantity of hard to see dry-pigment drawings in Gariwerd). The site also has a number of management issues that we chewed the cud over; agreeing profoundly that something needed to be done; but by whom we’re not so sure.
Back to the cars and in pseudo-rally style (but with neither speed nor grace) we dawdled around to Flat Rock Crossing where we sat in the dry, flat rock crossing and had our lunch…a school picnic up the creek And we had a pseudo meeting
Bellies full, we began the trek into the unknown…into an area where map details are meaningless and the trusted GPS is not to be trusted; ie. another everyday wander in Gariwerd. We were on the search for unrecorded rock art sites
So through the tight and unyielding bush, up the lichened rocks, down the sandy gully-side, up the sandy bush-covered hill to a lookout over the rocky chasm of the narrow gorge…and not a shelter worthy of the name…A brief rest, then on. Hold it, time for a rest. But Malcolm was fit enough to at least check out the rocky knob, encouraging others by his efforts, while the chivalrous leader stayed behind, somewhat dazed and awfully puckered out, on the (rather real) excuse of trying to figure out where the heck we all were. Ahh ha! Ok, this way. Just into this gully So into the gully dove the five hundred (well, eleven willing masochists anyway). Try this side…I’ll just try the other side…and so the day wore on; but then……mutiny! Well, most people DO have other things to do in their lives apart from follow fanatics through a black bush of burnt-out sticks. And so we split; with tears and acrimony the remaining crew entered again the depths of the canyon. A very nice walk actually, with a wealth of Golden Orb Weaver spiders in full show (mostly just in front of your face). Flowers and other wildlife were few, but the regrowth in this charred paradise was very inspiring and encouraging. Having gained the mouth of the canyon, we decided we also should head for home as it really was getting a little late, when BINGO! Yep, there it was. A large shelter, with a low alcove at the rear bearing white paintings. And further gold as we noticed that two of the paintings were produced using finger-tip dots; a first for Gariwerd. Also, several stick-figures and charcoal drawings of interest, but the other unique motifs were two scratched figures which although difficult to see were the largest in the shelter. Ye-haa; bonza. Looked at, photographed, talked about; the shelter hadn’t had it so good for two hundred years. And so, in our euphoric stupor and lightness of being, we made light the battle back to the cars for that final cup of tea. We then charioted our separate ways; driving off into the sunset in all directions!
Thanks to Brambuk for encouraging this excursion.