And lo, it came to pass, that on the seventh day, the clouds did indeed part, and behold, I could see clearly into the heavens – and it was good.
That nice man from Vic Parks had tapped my door the night before to explain that, after 5 days, the welcome mat was being whipped from under me. That was of no great consequence as I had already scoped out a council roadworks dump site just outside Yanakie, and only a few k’ to the entrance to Wilson’s Promontory. So just after 6am, I left the boat ramp at Toora and by 7:30am had unhitched, grabbed breakfast, but stupidly, not the essentials for a day’s exploring. No water, no hat, no anything but the camera. Luckily, there was sunscreen in the first-aid kit and a can of Aeroguard in the drivers door.
From a distance, The Prom, as it is known by locals, hides it’s attractions well. But up close, it’s a different story. Driving down to Tidal River was like something out of Jurassic Park. Mysterious, and with sea mist clinging to the mountains, a little threatening. Strip this granite massif of vegetation, you could put Uluru in your marble bag. It’s huge and imposing. Nothing like a little unsure to get the adrenaline pumping. There is an official entrance to The Prom, but all the action is at Tidal River Visitor Info Centre – accom., General Store and take-away. From here, it’s pretty much hiking only, and I’m talking SERIOUS hiking. Thirty k’ overnighters around the peripheral of the Prom are de’ rigeur for the serious trekkers, not a path I was willing to go down, or up.
Tidal River lies in the shadow of twin peaks, Mt Oberon & Mt Bishop, with summit walks for both. After the epic of Rawnsley Bluff, the transmission towers at the top of Mt Oberon hinted strongly of at least a road of some description to the summit, and it was so. The ground was sure under foot but the Grade 4 incline was constant for 3.5 klm, with steep stairs for the last 100 metres of the climb. As ‘Toby’ the Devil quotes; “Damnation WITHOUT relief”.
I finally arrived at the top, only to find a steady stream of misty low cloud, smudging the view like Vaseline on a lens. Undeterred, I waited it out till the last of it had blown through, to get my reward. I could have stayed longer. I realized, that trek to the top was such an analogy for achievement in life. The goal, the steady climb, that extra effort, final push and the view from success. Yep, you really CAN find that ‘guru’ at the summit sometimes.
The take-away was doing a roaring trade by the time I got back to Tidal River. I had no trouble polishing off a cup of hot chips and a can of diluted sugar. As soon as the ‘hit’ kicked in, I headed back along the road out with a couple of stops in mind. Squeaky Beach comes up in the blurbs a lot. I can see why.
Having seen Lucky Bay, I wouldn’t be guessing to say that Squeaky Beach is right up there as one of the best. Caught the tide at it’s lowest, but what a beach and backdrop, with rangy cliffs and outrageous boulders tossed casually against the western edge. Even in the busies times, you’d run out of parking before running out of beach. By this time, it was mid afternoon and after a 5:30am start, and that climb. my desire to explore was deserting me like rats off a sinking ship. I still had one more ‘recommended’ to discover, but decided tomorrow morning was just as good a time as any.
Intriguing, isn’t it? Sometimes what catches your eye is not always eye catching. Take a guess. The first correct entry will win a fabulous bottle of Pinor Noir Chardonnay to go under the Christmas tree.
A knock on the van door in the late afternoon and I thought “Noooo, not again”. But this time, just a young German tourist asking was it OK if she could park her station wagon next to my rig for the night (and no, that is not a metaphor). She was only in her first week of a five week stay and probably working on a tighter budget than me(lol).
