Kinchina CP, Murray Bridge ... Thunderfoot!

 

Kinchina is a CP, or Conservation Park, not far from Murray Bridge -- in fact, it's adjacent to the Mobilong facility. Dave and I went there to spot birds (no joy: barely even heard any, and saw just one ... no photos worth sharing). But instead, we saw something we have NEVER seen before. And although I was thrilled and privileged to see this incredible animal, I actually hope not to see another like him. I'll call him Thunderfoot, because --

When he took a STEP -- not hopping, just stepping forward -- the impact of those immense feet sounded like a horse cantering over soft ground. Thudd!!!! 

We heard him before we saw him. We knew something was out there. I wondered if there were some big horses loose in the park -- a whole bunch of deer jumping at the same time could have made a similar thudddd sound. Then Dave spotted what we thought (ha!) was the proverbial Really Big Roo. I said words along the lines or "Wow, look at the size of him!" I popped a couple of frames ... then noticed the body morphology. It was the female. The doe --

And then Dave spotted the male. The one who made that heavy, dense, soft thuddd every time he took a step. When you weigh about 200 kilos, this is what it's going to sound like -- and this weight estimation is based on observation and cold, hard logic. A horse easily weighs more, but it sounds comparatively loud because all that weight is falling on a small area, the hoof: a horse walks on its middle toe, right? Now, consider an animal which is not called a macropod, or big-foot, for no reason. His feet are immense. To hear that same "shire horse cantering" type of thuddd sound, you'll need an utterly enormous weight spread out over that huge foot.

The size of him ... 

Those are trees, not shrubs, around him. That's a boulder, not a little rock, just left of centre of this frame. Now, look at the foliage on the foreground tree: mark the scale of it ... but this animal is standing at least eight meters, probably closer to ten, behind that foliage!!

At left here, Dave is standing beside one of the mock-up ancestral animals at the Womambi Fossil Centre, back in 2009. It's one of the extinct tree-browsing kangaroos. (Imagine the proverbial Really Big Roo with the face of a koala, which evolution designed to reach up and browse tree foliage.) The critter at Kinchina, whom we're calling Thunderfoot, is waaaay bigger than this extinct browser. 

Think of the biggest male roo you've ever seen at Belair NP, or Onkaparinga Gorge, or wherever, and -- literally double it. 

It was like looking at a shire horse, and when he moved, that's what it sounded like, back among the trees. 

I've never before felt that frisson of "Oh, oh ..." when coming across a roo in the wild. Never saw one that concerned me, much less made the breath shorten and the hair rise on the back of the neck.

Very carefully, I doubled back around to get a line-of-sight on him without trees in the foreground...

There's nothing for perspective in that shot, but we can tell you this much: if he were to stand up straight, his head would be around nine feet off the ground. Up on those toes? Standing in your living room, his head would be right through the ceiling. His shoulders ... it was like looking at a bull --

A bull that has seen you, is looking right at you, and you're in his territory, and his female is only twenty meters away. For all we knew, there could have been a joey (his baby) in the area, which makes any wild animal protective. He was intent on me, likely for good reason. No way in any world would this animal be leery of a puny little human, but where his joey is concerned...

I popped a couple of quick frames, then very carefully turned around. To be safe, you walk at right-angles to a big, wild roo: you don't make eye contact, and you do not move like you're slinking or sneaking. Slinky walking, eye contact and walking directly toward them emulates the stalking characteristics of the only predator evolution ever threw at animals this big. There haven't been wild dingoes in this part of South Australia for many years -- I don't even know if they're even still wild up in the state's north. But the programming of evolution isn't going to change, not in another million years.

So we walked on, and heard Thunderfoot and his enormous missus boom off into the bushland. It was thrilling, a little bit scary -- like almost but not quite blundering into a grizzly bear in bush Alaska. I wouldn't trade the experience for anything, yet at the same time, I hope not to repeat it! I honestly did not know that roos grew this big  -- and yes, I know exactly what the official documentation says! But I also know what Dave and I experienced. We're savvy people, and entirely used to Clydesdale horses, wild bull moose in Kincaid Park, camels ... those taxidermed bears in the big glass cases at Anchorage Airport! We know what we saw. 

And I won't be diving through the bush with quite the abandon that I used to! Radar on, wits about you, and make enough noise that wildlife can hear you coming! Because it's bigger that you are. A lot bigger. And it has eight-inch talons! It's very fortunate indeed that roos, even humongous ones, are such peaceable herbivores: they absolutely will not attack you ... unless you give them a justifiable reason, like startling them by running right into them, which would make any animal come up swinging.

 So -- don't given them a reason!

Stirling's Brilliant Autumn Hues

 

It's a long time indeed since I posted to this blog ... in fact, I can scarcely believe how long! The fact is that Covid put the kybosh on travelling for a couple years, and life has been "interesting" since the virus began to settle down. Even now, we're a tad reluctant to travel so far that we have to stay overnight, because coming down with that particular plague is our worst-case scenario. (Dave works in aged care, and if the virus finds its way into his facility -- fact: what is an inconvenience to any one of us can cause people to perish. Give one pause! Added to which, the recent strains are incredibly contagious, so easily caught that one could suffer this virus repeatedly. Now, add in the research, that it's also associated with early-onset dementia, and ... why take the risk?) So ...

Since the South Australian state borders opened up again, we haven't "stayed away" at all. We've concentrated on day trips out from home: only what you can do in a day and be home by midnight. And it's amazing, what you can find, and do, within such easy reach. The Adelaide Hills change their face with every season. No season is more beautiful that autumn, and there is absolutely no better place to see the autumn colours that Stirling.

I will add a caveat here: you do need to score a sunny day, to catch these brilliant hues at their best. Having said this, if the weather refuses to cooperate, Stirling also offers some of the best shopping and dining in these hills. There's more gourmet cafes and coffee houses and tearooms than you can count or remember, so I'll just point you at our absolute favourite. Look up Konditorei Coffee Lounge, also known simply as Cafe Kondi. Marvellous atmosphere, inside and under-cover outside dining, great food, the best coffee, and attractive prices. (They're on the mall at 2/37/39 Mount Barker Rd, Stirling SA 5152 ... best yet, they have a woodstove which is lit in winter. There's nothing better than drinking hot chocolate and sitting by the fire while it's raining and howling outside.)

There's many reasons to go to Stirling, but what takes us there every year -- and sometimes several times in a season, to get the weather juuuuust right -- is the autumn colour show. Life meets art. If you're more interested in shopping and dining, you'll find both in Stirling, but for us, it's all about this:

Actually, it's an interesting town. This, from Stirling's Wiki page:

Founded in 1854, Stirling grew rapidly as a result of the expansion of apple growing and market gardening to satisfy the demand of the expanding city of Adelaide, whose centre is only 15 kilometres from Stirling. It also developed as a residential address for English migrants who could afford it, to escape Adelaide's hot summers, often 10 degrees cooler than Adelaide. As a result, many historic, grand mansions can be found in the area. Today, farming has declined as more of the region has been urbanised, with many Stirling residents commuting to Adelaide daily.

Stirling is on the road through to Aldgate, which is another "hills town experience" with its own charm and opportunities for wining and dining, not so much for shopping. Stirling is larger, with over 3,000 residents now, which makes it one of the larger hills towns, and handy for Belair NP, Cleland Wildlife Park, Mount Lofty Summit, the Piccadilly - Summertown - Uraidla scenic drive ... perfect!

So, you know where we'll be next autumn! The leaves an start to turn somewhere around May, and into early June in some years. The climate is getting rather odd lately, and the trees are ... confused. (And I'll try to catch up with this blog momentarily. Truth is, I've got out of the habit of blogging -- and forgotten how much I used to enjoy it!

Kuala Lumpur and London Stopovers

It wasn't intended, but it happened! I was on my way to Sunderland, UK, for the November, 2012 NEICN conference at the university, and before leaving home I had a formless premonition that something was not going to go according to plan. Sure enough, the journey was disrupted, but I can't say I wasn't looked after well in the long run.

I was flying Malaysian Airlines (loved the inflight beer and peanuts!), and the A380 (biggest airliner in the world) developed a fault that grounded it in Kuala Lumpur. (The header pic is a Qantas A380 on the ground in Singapore, on the 2011 trip, but it gives you an idea.) We were due to depart about mid-evening, but the time came and went. After midnight the airport staff handed out bottled drinks for the hundreds stranded in the departure lounge, but still no action—then they started to distribute a limited number of blankets because the air conditioning was so cold and apparently couldn't be adjusted (I didn't get one). All the while every child on the flight was rampaging at full scream because some lunatic had built an adventure playground in the departure lounge.

O-kay... Well, about 4am they announced the flight was not leaving the ground for quite some time, and gave folks the choice of being slotted into the next available flight or being put up at a hotel until the plane was fixed. By this time I was so tired I just wanted to put my head down, so joined the stopover queue. I was literally falling asleep on my feet and kept jerking awake before I could collapse—not an experience I'd want to repeat. I remember the airline handed out food vouchers and eating McDonald's at 5am—very little was open in the airport at that time and not everywhere took vouchers.

At last we were passed through customs/border control to actually enter Malaysia, and were taken by shuttle bus at high speed to the Marriott Hotel, where we got luxury treatment, all at the airline's expense. I got some sleep, emailed home with news, but had mislaid my contact details for the boarding house I was heading for at destination so couldn't let them know what was happening. The pics above are the view from the ninth floor of the Marriott.

Then there was a sumptuous free buffet lunch, and a bus back to the airport (yes, that's how the interior of the airport coach was decorated!).

The city is tropical but has almost the feel of Adelaide, looking across the Torrens. Palm trees everywhere reinforce the equatorial nature of the place, while the airport's futuristic architecture is always a delight.

Passengers rejoined the fixed plane, departing about eighteen hours late. I remember when the flight was formally announced there was a huge round of applause from the whole departure lounge. The weather was closing down, a tropical storm going through. The parked A380 shows the front moving in, and by the time we were moving the rain had arrived, note the spots on the window.

That of course meant arriving in London a day late (obtusely, the weather was bright and clear approaching Blighty), and the airline picked up the tab for a night in the Heathrow Hilton—I was not complaining! I had to buy a new domestic connection north to Newcastle Airport, but my trip insurance covered the missed flight, so all was well in the end.

The detour was something of an adventure, and I got to see a few things I would not normally have—such as Kuala Lumpu Airport from the outside! The extensive palm plantations of the city suggested to me at the time that palm oil was a major export, certainly every spare inch of land seemed to sprout palm fronds. The view from the Marriott was of forested hills, and the equatorial climate was certainly pleasant at that time of year. I can say I've stayed in two five star hotels and it didn't cost me a penny—which may be the only time I ever do, oddly enough.

Above is the morning light in the Hilton's main entrance, and the sign says it all in the last.

The trip had a bumpy start but was a wonderful one thereafter, including travelling with the band I support in the south country, plus an extension of a week so I could get to Cardiff to see the 'Dr Who Experience,' and to RAF Museum Cosford, near Shifnal, in Shropshire, for the “Flights of Fantasy' pop culture event.

Sadly, this was my last proper trip to the UK, as the 2013 NEICN conference was cancelled, and the event never resumed, but I did go up for a few days in 2014 for a sci-fi convention in London.

Mike Adamson

Flinders Ranges in a day ... can it be done?!

The plan had been a road trip to the Limestone Coast, but the pandemic changed all this, due to the proximity to Victoria, which at the time was on the strictest lockdown. Instead, we spent the week doing day trips ... and for a week when we had to dodge showers and dress for winter, we did an amazing amount. The forecast had been for rain and unseasonable cold, and this didn't tell the half of it ... snow fell in South Australia on Friday -- luckily, we'd done our day trip into the Flinders Ranges on Thursday, because the storm which brought the snow was coming in just as we drove south! We might have been lucky once or twice ... in retrospect, if the heavy weather had arrived even 12 hours earlier, we could have been caught out in the wilderness when the "floodways" started to run, unable to get back to civilization! I guess Dave's guardian angel was looking out for us, because we didn't get caught, and we did have a fantastic time...

Salvation Jane -- "Patterson's Curse" -- in full bloom

This isn't the wilderness, but you can see it from here!

I wouldn't have believed you could do this in a day ... Flinders Ranges, out and back, between 6:00am and 9:30pm, including a storm?! It had to be a joke. But no -- it turned out to be perfectly doable; and this was Thursday in "vacation week." (Previously, we'd stayed in our own neck of the woods, getting as far afield as the Laratinga Wetlands on the other side of Mount Barker, and Mannum (it rained), via Mount Pleasant (so cold, I had to drink hot chocolate to get back to life); and on Saturday we headed south and stumbled over the Ferries McDonald Conservation Park, where the wildflowers and orchids are in full bloom.) 

But Thursday was the day to hit the road early. The sun was barely up when we left, and the magic works because the Northern Expressway whisks you through the city and out so fast. Before you know it, you're north of Port Wakefield, and looking forward to breakfast with a view of the pink lake at Lochiel, on the euphoniously named Lake Bumbunga. No, that's not a typo. From then on, you put your foot down and tramp it. In convoy with an enormous number of trucks going both ways, you're headed for Port Broughton, Port Pirie, Port Augusta -- but you're not stopping. Blast straight through, and bear right just as you see Port Augusta in the distance ... you're on your way to Quorn, known as the Gateway to the Flinders Ranges. And yes, you can do it, from home, by about 11:00am! 

Emus in the wild -- bigger and redder than you see them down south in the Adelaide Hills

Flinders Ranges pastoral country ... cattle country, in fact.

You're soon off the beaten path. The roads are in good condition, and a car can handle them ... until or unless it starts to rain, and the "flooodways" fill up fast. In retrospect, I think we were lucky!

So ... Flinders Ranges in a day! Out before dawn, a sausage roll for breakfast at Locheal, with its pink lake, north of Port Wakefield, then lunch in Quorn, followed by three hours of tarryhooting on wilderness roads where the views are beyond amazing, before we turned for home at 4:00, with a four-and-a-half-hour drive ahead of us. We returned by a different rout ... Willmington, Gladstone, Laura, Clare, Gawler, at which point you connect with the Northern Expressway and you'll be home in less than an hour. 

The trip had one last amazement in store for us:

As I mentioned before, the weather was due to change, big time, though we hadn't realized quite how violently it would change. In fact, in about twelve hours this storm front would be dumping snow on the Flinders Ranges! We drove right into it, at a time when it was all about torrential rain. The kind of rain where your wipers can barely keep pace. Spectacular -- also a wake-up call, to be a little more careful and plan a bit more assiduously next time! Because we'll definitely be going back; the only questions are when and how! 

Punchbowl Lookout on a sunny Sunday morning

 

About five minutes from Adelaide's southern suburb of Woodcroft, and up onto the hill, is a hidden gem. Punchbowl Lookout is a kilometre hike from the car park on Piggott Range Road, and with the sun overhead, striking down into the gorge, the views are more than worth the walk.

Somewhere around noon is the best time to do this hike. The direct sun makes the bottom of the gorge more visible -- which certainly makes for better photos. It's primordial down there, where the Onkaparinga River cuts a serpentine course between cliffs and wooded slopes. The intrepid (and fit) can hike it ... or, more accurately, climb it. It's a challenging trip in and out; I've promised myself that one day I'll do it. Can't do it just yet, but one day.

Many trails wind through Onkaparinga NP, most of them within the capacity of averagely fit walkers, but several are demanding. The only thing the Punchbowl Lookout trail is short of is -- a bathroom! The nearest is two K's away, at the head of the Sundew Trail, with its car park also on Piggott Range Road. Here's a map of the park, in PDF format, which will help with planning, ... but one has to wonder what they imagine people are going to do, with a park that size, and one bathroom! 

Different times of year offer different opportunities to see wildlife, wildflowers and birds; but most birds and animals are active in the early morning and evening, when the views down into the gorge are not the best. You'd have to spend the whole day, to see both -- or visit twice! The Punchbowl Lookout hike is an easy walk; use sunblock in summer, and wear something warm in winter -- allow about an hour, not because it's long or arduous, but because the views are so magnificent, you'll want to loiter at the gorge overlook ... and you might even see a roo or two on the way!