The Gibb River Road: Ellenbrae to El Questro

Acknowledgement

We acknowledge Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples as the traditional owners of country throughout Australia. We recognise the continuing connection to land, water, language and community. We pay our respect to the cultures; and to Elders past, present and emerging.

We are committed to walking lightly on the land of your ancestors, only taking knowledge and understanding, only leaving footprints and the whisper of our spirits, breathing in the awe of this great land we are privileged to call home. 

We come from the land of the Yugara and Yumambeh peoples and have stopped to rest and learn along the Gibb River Road which crosses the traditional lands of many Kimberley peoples, including the Njikena, Bunuba, Ongkomi, Ngarinyin, Gedija, Worrorra and Wunumbal language groups.

We packed up and we’re on the road earlyish. Yesterday was spectacular, but we are tired. Option one is one night at Drysdale, one night at Ellenbrae and then on to El Questro. Option two is push to Ellenbrae and stay two nights before El Questro. Option two was the preference, so we set that as the goal. During pack up the ultra fine red dust nearly broke me. I am so over it. Food is also running low and there’s definitely nothing fresh… it’s difficult to pack food for the drive.

We battled the corrugations and the kids relentlessly used them to make the sound one would make talking/blowing into a pedestal fan. We crossed all the small river crossings again before making it to Munurru to pick up the RJs’ bikes. I drove the King Edward crossing on the way out; that was fun. There were graders on the road, I wonder if they just do Kolumboru or if they do the road to Mitchell Falls too? 

We stopped in at Drysdale to refuel and get what we could from their tiny store (which was as extensive as a frozen loaf of bread and some Weet-Bix), and pushed to Ellenbrae. Back on the Gibb and there were lots of small creek crossings, many of which had black cockatoos resting in the beaches of the trees on the banks. I love black cockatoos and their yellow and red tails. The scenery of the drive was beautiful. The sun was setting as we arrived, spectacularly red. I was sad to have to watch it in the rear view mirror, but also glad to not be driving into it!

We arrived at Ellenbrae reasonably late, maybe 5pm, just enough time to set up before we were cloaked in darkness and feeling the bite of the evening cold. The people there were lovely. Told me I had that ‘Mitchell Falls look’. They must get that a lot.I woke up in the morning exhausted after a terrible sleep with kids up and down etc. it was difficult to keep the mood up… Leon discovered the exhaust had two broken brackets and had lost a gasket and was basically resting on the mud flaps. We were so low on food, but also, there’s not much to explore here so the rest was welcomed. Ellenbrae is known for their scones. Rob and Jade and Leon and I decided that the adults deserved some alone time. So the six kids stayed home with Rob and Jade while Leon and I went to sample the scones and have a coffee and some valuable adult only conversation up at the homestead. When we returned Jade and Rob took their opportunity. The kids were remarkably well behaved while each set of parents was away.

Later in the afternoon there was some tension, but this just meant the usual pairing of Joey/Harriet and Malachi/Elsie were changed up a bit.
Late in the afternoon we built a fire and began to cook dinner. It was around this time that I received a call from Mum to let me know that her sister, my Aunty, had died that morning. Aunty Kathy had cancer and her passing was expected. But this doesn’t make it less sad. I am sad for Mum, but mostly I’m sad for Aunty Kathy. She was just beginning to live her life on her terms when this terrible illness struck, and I’m sad that she didn’t get that opportunity to its fullest. I’ve never really been away from home, so I’ve never experienced the increased intensity of sadness which came unexpectedly. After dinner as we were strumming the guitar around the fire I received another sad news text. This time from a young man I taught about ten years ago who I’ve remained in touch with. He let me know that his mother, who I worked with for about a decade, had also passed away that morning. She too had fought a battle with cancer. This woman was a most phenomenal woman. One of those people who, the magnitude of the positive impact she had on the world and the people in it, is immeasurable. I am sad to have lost someone I called a friend, I am sad that the world has lost a masterpiece, but I am especially sad for her son. Again, a wave of homesickness came over me, and I was overwhelmed with gratitude to be surrounded by my little family and new but valuable friends.

Thankfully, I slept very well tonight. We packed up in the morning, slower than usual. There was lots of talk about the Pentecost and from what I’ve learnt I expect it to be significantly less dramatic than the stories. I expect to be whelmed… neither over or under.

The RJs have discovered they have a slow leak in one of their camper tyres. Given they took the one that was quite worn and shredded off at Manning, and they’ve learnt that the extra spare they bought in Broome actually doesn’t fit, they’re in a bit of a pickle. So the decision was to just keep an eye on the pressure and pump it up when required.

Along the drive I experienced waves of sadness. I’m not sure why, but I didn’t expect it. This was some of the poorest conditions we’ve seen on the Gibb, but we were still maintaining about 60km. The road was hard and rocky.

We pulled into a look out to check it out and there was a van parked in there. A young man stepped out as we pulled in and we had a bit of a chat about the Pentecost. He was very matter of fact about it all. Yes it’s long, but it’s shallow. Bouldery kind of loose rock bottom. It sounded much like King Edward but not as deep and much wider. This man said he drove across and back about eight times yesterday afternoon as his wife was getting footage. I asked him, so where can we see the end result? And he said they have an Instagram @cjmaddock. I have since discovered that their photography is exceptional. If you don’t follow them, you should. Breathtaking. Especially if you want to see many of the places we’ve been, photographed by professionals!

We arrived at the Pentecost and naturally the hero cowboys were around. To look at the crossing, there was a very logical path, straight down the mid. This is the path I would take. It looked straight, it looked level, it looked safe and logical. The heroes however (cue gruff manly know all voice) ‘Take the hard left. Big holes down the centre. All the advice is go hard left. It’s the only way.’ Yeah, okay mate. There were a number chauvinist men around. One couldn’t believe a woman would drive through the river. You should have seen his face when he asked Leon which path he would take, and Leon said ‘whichever one my wife suggests, and she says go straight, so that’s what I’ll do.’ Priceless. I was appropriately whelmed with the crossing. Knowing it is crocodile infested water and that you won’t want to get out of you get stuck is the main concern. But we nailed it.

Piece of cake really. Slow and steady. Jade drove through after, also a success. 

What was a slow leak in the RJs tyre had become more significant. They filled it up on the west side of the river, and needed to refill on the east side. So we were now in for seeing how far they could get before the pressure dropped, and hopefully get to El Questro eventually. We had about 25km to go. The Gibb was now sealed. It was heavenly. Initially the RJs were making about 5km I think, and they made it to the El Questro turn off without too much trouble. However, things were declining quickly once on the dirt.

There were a number of creek crossings on the way in, and the RJs were stopping pretty regularly to inflate. You could see the frustration on Jade’s face with every stop. The road got quite narrow so almost at the end of the track, we over took them and continued to check in at El Questro. While it didn’t take them long to get to check in, they were making it about 500m between each inflation by the end. When the parked up, Jade I dated the tyre and it deflated in front of our eyes on about 1minute. Literally sitting in the rim. Crazy. The cantina was closed which only left the general store. They shouldn’t be allowed to call it a general store. It has a frozen bread (in the morning before it sells out), and they have rice crackers and camembert. So that’s what we had for lunch. The RJs then went to sort out their tyre as much as they could by chatting to the on-site repair man, and we headed to camp to set up.

Food is a real issue. We don’t have any! And there aren’t any shops. It’s kind of surreal. It’s also intensely frustrating as we are all but forced to eat at the restaurant. I’m sure that’s their idea! Of course the restaurant doesn’t really sell the usual things our kids would eat. Ugh. Anyway, we managed. We also managed to have a few drinks with Rob and Jade while the kids played in the sprinklers.

I was still exhausted. I’m not sure why. Maybe the emotional drain. Maybe I’ve got a hint of the virus the RJs have been battling. So we decided to spend the day relaxing, catching up on washing, calling Dad for his birthday, attending Cancer Council’s Australia’s biggest morning tea.

We spend some time planning the next leg of our trip, including deciding not to do Purnululu this time. Rather, head to Lake Argyle followed by Nitmuluk, Litchfield, Darwin and Kakadu before heading homeward.

That evening we again went for dinner (literally out of food, this was our only option) and watched the origin on an outdoor TV at the bar/restaurant. Great atmosphere, a fantastic win, and we made some more friends with people who shared their table with us. 

We were all snuggled in bed, Leon and I not yet asleep, and I realise I need to use the toilet. Those of you who know me know I’m scared of just about anything that moves too fast, as well as the dark. Adult-knappers can be lurking anywhere! I was so proud of my decision to brave the dark walk to the amenities. Perhaps 200meters, the last 50 reasonably well lit. So out I get, phone torch lighting up the 2 meters in front of me. I hear a noise. Like a big animal in the grass. I freeze, hold me breath and attempt to keep calm and assess the situation. I turn my torch to the right and see the four legs. Jill. I’m sure it’s just Jill, the resident donkey. Deep breaths. You’ll be right. One foot in front of the other, only another 100m of darkness. Keeping my light facing right I walk on. I see two glowing eyes. Jill. It’s just Jill. Keep loving. Light panning right. 4 glowing eyes. And big horns. I literally yelp out loud at the sight, startle the goddamn bulls (at least three of them), who began a stampede. I literally curled up in a ball on the side of the track and held my breath until the thundering stopped. I then stood and sprinted to the amenities, and locked myself into a cubicle as quick as I could, heart pounding through my shirt. I text Leon the abridged version. His overly empathic response… ‘Pics or it didn’t happen’. Too soon mate, too soon. I made it back to the camper, shaken but alive. You can all breathe a sigh of relief. Or stop laughing. Whatever. I’m sure it was just as gripping to read as it was to live!

In the morning we went to Zebedee Springs. What a spectacular place! A canopy of palm trees enclosing the warm springs that cascade from one rock pool to the next, down to a large pool at the bottom. When we first arrived we went exploring in an attempt to find the upper most pool. Both Leon and I attempted to scale the ‘cliff’ at the beginning of the pools in search of some hidden oasis high above. We didn’t find anything. I was pleased to hear from those with a drone that said oasis doesn’t exist. We returned to the comfort of the warm springs where we had a family sized pool to ourselves. Unfortunately on the way I absolutely axed my left knee on a submerged rock which was so incredibly and unexpectedly painful.

The RJs arrived not too long after we did and again the kids had a great time playing, moving from one pool to the next, sitting under the waterfalls, swimming in the bigger lower pool. They had a great time exploring and I had a great time relaxing. Until about 12 when we had to vacate. I believe the springs are ‘closed’ so they can be exclusively used by the more illustrious El Questro guests.

We returned to camp. Chatted to Corr and Lyn, our neighbour campers from the Sunshine Coast. Talking about our families etc and for the first time someone responded with ‘I can see that’ when I told them Dad is from Singapore. When I mentioned that I’m the fairest of the sisters Lyn said, ‘wow, your sisters must be dark.’ And that was when I realised just how tanned I must be! 

We visited the El Questro swimming hole in the afternoon and browsed the works of the resident artist before returning to camp for our final night. 

In the morning, after our 14th and final night on the Gibb, we packed up and left for Emma Gorge, keen to do that walk and experience the beauty before beginning the drive to Lake Argyle. 

We waved the RJs good bye as they were bypassing Emma Gorge and going straight to Lake Argyle as they needed the time at El Questro to finalise the dramas with their tyre. 

We arrived at Emma Gorge. It was a relatively flat walk but rocky. All kids were committed to only wearing slides. I don’t believe in kids doing hikes in slides, I’d actually rather they were in bare feet. Many many more trips and slips and stubbed toes happen in slides. However, none of the kids listened. I decided not to just tell them they had to, but rather told them the risks and my recommendations and thought at least someone was going to learn a lesson. Leon wore his slides, so naturally there was the argument about why it was okay for Dad. Basically because if Dad hurts himself he will also look after himself! I wore my joggers. 

After marvelling at the bats hanging in the trees, about 300 meters into the walk, Joey stubbed his toe and completed lost the plot. Refused to continue walking. Screamed at me. Sat himself on a rock and disengaged from the world. It wouldn’t have been appropriate to say, if you just damn well listened to me this wouldn’t happen, so I didn’t. I flat out refused to miss out on Emma Gorge. I told Leon Malachi and Teddy to continue on and we would meet them there. I told Joey he could wear my shoes and continue walking, he could continue in his own shoes or slides, or he could go back to the car. However, if he chose to go back to the car, he would be waiting in the car for Leon and the boys to return, then he would be sitting in the car with them until I walked to the gorge had a delightful swim and walked back.

After some intense back and forths, Joey reluctantly put my joggers on and I did the walk in bare feet. Usually on these walks, we are over taking various groups. Today, Joey was walking at a painstakingly slow pace. It hurt my heart to be walking so so so slowly. We were being over taken by the elderly who literally needed hand holding if they needed to step over a rock. I could have cried.

In addition there were many judgemental stares from passers by who assumed I was irresponsible in my bare feet. One poor lady made a comment and she was the straw that broke me. I retorted, ‘This is actually a lesson in why it’s important to listen to your mother. He didn’t begin the walk in my shoes, but look at us now!’ She changed her tune, looked at me sympathetically and said, ‘Oh you’re good.’ Which was all the validation I needed. There were many crystal clear pools on the way to the falls, with some sizeable sport grunters that enthusiastically jumped for tiny pieces of apple.

Eventually we made it to Emma Gorge and Joey’s mood was much improved. The sight was beautifully breathtaking. We’ve seen a whole lot of gorges and waterfalls these past few weeks and they continue to amaze me. Each one with its own unique narrative. The signature red of the cockburn ranges was the 65 meter cliff wall that towered up the left side of the graceful droplet waterfall. To the right the cliff wall was a vertical garden of lush green ferns and moss. The water of the main pool was as icy as I’ve felt. So much so that it not only stole my breath, but was painful if you stayed in too long. My body ached and my skin burned if I stayed in the water for more than a couple of minutes. However, tucked around to the right was a warm little spring. A small climb up the wall and you could sit on a throne-like rock shelf as the warm water gentle rolled past you down into another pool that you could climb down into if you liked. This was where we spent most of our time and was a welcomed relief after the ice bath that was the main pool.

Both Leon and I swam. Leon made it over the waterfall. I did not. It was far too cold for that. Joey found a very cute little lizard who seemed to be in the process of growing its tail back, and another visitor to the waterfall found a very pretty little snake that she showed us as she carried it in her snorkelling mask. As we were leaving we chatted with a few ladies who were day tripping from Kununurra. They had apples. Fresh crunchy juicy red apples. We had not had fruit or vegetables in about 10 days. They over heard the kids marvelling at the fruit and so I explained that they hadn’t had fruit in over a week. These women gifted Joey and Teddy a red apple each and it absolutely made their day. As we walked away Joey says Under his breath as he embarks on the path back to the car, “Oh the stories I’m going to tell when I get back to school.”