A DAY OF HARD KNOX

When we’d first arrived the afternoon before, we’d gone to the lookout, where we gazed wistfully into Knox Gorge.  Away to our right, who knows how far, there was a tree at the base of a slot canyon, one I determined was special.  Its white bark was such a contrast to the iron stained cliff behind I just had to go and get a picture of it on the morrow.

The next day started well.  We were first (just) down the steep slope into Knox Gorge ahead of a busload of backpackers, only we turned right and they went left on the main trail.  Where we went there was no sign that man had trodden here.

We worked our way towards the upper end of the gorge.  The trails here in the canyons are all classed 5, just like the one we had done the day before and, at times, it was very tricky getting past obstacles and avoiding the seriously cold water, such a contrast to .  More than once we helped each other, either pushing or pulling, climbing the layered cliffs of iron ore to find a route upstream.

The rewards however were views of yet another of Karijini’s masterpieces.  We later overheard a local ranger say that some rate Knox as the prettiest of the lot.

Nothing quite prepares you for the stunning reds as the sun sheds light on this 2 billion year old landscape, pushed up from the ancient ocean floor by forces beyond your imagination.

As we clamber our way along the edges the cameras click endlessly and there are moments when we find it hard to continue, such is the magnificence of the spectacle and the hypnotic peacefulness of the surrounds.

Karijini continually exceeds its promise, and there’s so much to see.  We forced our way around a bend, scrambling yet again over the layered rock to be confronted by paradise for photography.

Dramatic red cliffs, studded here and there with precariously clinging vegetation, all set beneath untainted blue skies and coursed by a crystal clear bubbling stream with intermittent mirror pools.  Fodder for the soul indeed.

We located the tree at some stage and it didn’t disappoint, but we suspected there would be more.

What could have been a 90 minutes walk had taken us well over three hours and we adventurously pushed on before deciding to climb a virgin scree slope off to the right in order to get us to the top of the gorge and avoid all the obstacles going back.

Here again there were no trails, just picking gaps in the lawn of the apocalypse (aka spinifex) as our feet slipped on the crumbling rock slope beneath.  At the heights the spinifex disappeared and in the next half hour we continually checked out from whence we’d come; at once admiring the outback landscape and then peering back into Knox.

The motorhome was a welcome sight but that day’s experience would live with us forever.