MONDAY 23 JULY MANNING GORGE CAMPGROUND
Made sure we got an early start today. The plan was to walk to the Upper Manning Gorge, with its Manning Falls. We wanted to get started on that before the day got too hot.
The walk track was on the far side of the river from the camp ground. We had two choices to reach it. We could swim across the waterhole, pushing styrene boxes, containing our clothes and gear, ahead of us. Or we could take a detour around the end of the waterhole, and do some rock hopping in marshy bits, and across some swampy sections – wet feet probable. This was what we chose to do – I was very reluctant to risk my camera by swimming across, for starters.
The walk to the falls was almost 3kms, each way. It was quite well marked – better than in ’93, when we had to hunt for the occasional tin can stuck on trees to show the way. It took a rather direct line, across a low ridge, rather than follow the longer, winding river course.
It was, though, not an easy walk. There were a lot of short up and down sections, the going was rocky and one had to carefully watch their footing. It was also open and exposed for most of the way.
Eventually, the track went down a small cliff – a scrambly descent back to the river. The Falls were not far, then. A very welcome – and beautiful – sight they were, too.
There was a considerable amount of water coming over the falls.
There were some other people there when we arrived – not of the rowdy, show-off variety though. They eventually left, and we had the place to ourselves, which was lovely.
M and John rock-hopped and climbed to the top of the falls, to see what the views were from there, and to see what was beyond. They explored back up the river for a short way.
I wandered about taking photos, and eventually sat on a rock and soaked my sore heel in the cool water, waiting for the others to return. I debated whether to go for a swim in the very attractive pool under the falls- either in my clothes or stripped to my underwear. In the end, I just couldn’t be bothered. It was nicer sitting on my rock, listening to the sound of the falling water – almost meditative.
When M and John made their way back to my level, they didn’t want to swim, either.
We had intended for this to be a morning walk only, so after a couple of hours in the falls area, started back to camp.
The walk back was hard. The initial steep climb back up the cliff was a draining way to start back. The heat of the middle of the day, reflecting off the bare rock surfaces, made walking a chore. It was becoming very dreary by the time we started down the gentle incline to the camp waterhole. My heel was really hurting, and I’d turned my oft-sprained ankle again. Of course, the heel and the ankle were different legs, so I was doubly lamed.
M and John had obviously had enough, because they decided to take the easy way back and swim the waterhole. John was rather in two minds, because he does not like deep water, but still opted for it. I said I would take everyone’s cameras safely around the long way. I certainly didn’t fancy stripping to my undies in front of a campground audience!
M took the lead – and the styrene box of clothes – and John followed.
There was a rock outcrop almost in the middle of the waterhole, which broke the swim into two sections. John was happier when he’d reached that far.
I waited to photograph the intrepid swimmers, before commencing my trudge back around the long way. So I arrived back at camp a little while after the others.
On the walk back, we had passed a couple of tour groups walking up to the falls – over twenty people in all – so once again we had been lucky with our timing.
Lunch was very late. We sat round, reading, for the rest of the afternoon and watching the crow display. The background noise of crow calls was ongoing, but pleasant.
Passed another enjoyable evening round our campfire. Being really comfortable in each others’ company helps.