Despite waking up numerous times on Friday night to poke my head outside, I didn’t get to see another light display in the sky. It just goes to show how lucky Howsie and I were on Friday morning, and I’m still pinching myself about it. When the morning arrived Lisa headed to the beach for a plunge, while I stayed home waiting for someone to come round to start fixing our ceiling. On a not so lucky note, during my last night in Queensland Lisa heard a loud crack and part of the ceiling started to sag. The gyprock had separated from the joist:
Fears of water damage and termites raced through our minds, but it was simply that the fixings and adhesives holding the gyprock to the joists had failed. Things are sadly no longer built to last. Fortunately the area failing was above an air conditioner unit, which prevented a complete collapse. Over the last few weeks, with temporary props providing additional support, we have been waiting to get someone in to fix it. That was to begin today, so I stayed home allowing Lisa to crack on with plunging, study, and swimming lessons:
That is not to say that I wasn’t keen to get out. Lisa had a relatively full day planned, so as soon as the workmen had finished the first stage of works I headed out myself. Keen to mix things up with an orchid hunt and climb. Craig was busting to get out, but could only make an afternoon stint. Falling nicely into place with my day. My first destination was the Carbunup Reserve, to hunt a specific orchid I thought had alluded me over the years. I didn’t find it, but searching through my images realised I have seen at the Ambergate Reserve in 2021:
My uncle asked me a month or so back how many species I have seen. I guessed 50 to 75, but from a brief look at my images it could easily be double that. Maybe I should document all my finds to date, which would avoid me trying to find things that my leaky brain seems to be forgetting. It would be a massive undertaking, as my records are somewhat scattered and incomplete. Maybe it is a job for when I no longer have to work, although that is quite some time of yet.. For now I will enjoy the hunt, even if they are repeat finds:
Moving along, I’ve recently referenced and shown plants in the genus Stylidium stating they are protocarnivorous. They produce a sticky mixture of sugar and water used to trap and suffocate small insects. Beads of this substance can be seen all along the stem behind the flower, in the first image. Stylidium is derived from the Greek word stylos, meaning column or pillar. This refers to the distinctive column of these plants, being pink and topped with a yellow and black club in the first image of a Thick-leaved Triggerplant (Stylidium crassifolium):
Larger insects can, unknowingly, activate the column to be released and thump them on the back. Another ingenious pollination technique created by nature. The second image had me a little excited when I was in the bush. It was however just another Rusty Spider Orchid (Caladenia ferruginea). The thick yellow clubbing on the three sepals had me foxed, because the specimens I have seen to date have had less pronounced brown clubbing. The third and fourth images being Forest Mantis Orchids (Caladenia attingens subsp. attingens):
The hungry caterpillar is munching away on the anther, which is where the pollen is produced. Hopefully this orchid has had a chance to spread some pollen before this pest came along and spoilt its chances of aiding fertilization. At the second location I knew the specific orchid I wanted to see was in flower. Another enthusiast I bumped into during my walk with Lisa last weekend told me it was out. Saying it was located just off the path that leads to Quinninup Falls, a local spot made famous by social media. One I had not been to, until now:
Having seen many waterfalls in numerous countries, this one isn’t of a scale that would have been on my radar to see. But it is a relatively unusual sight in this landscape, and as such made a refreshing change to the mostly dry but no less beautiful sights. It is claimed to be ‘one of Western Australia’s most Insta-worthy and popular waterfalls’, and as such receives huge numbers of visitors. I somehow snagged a time with no one else about, so I could fully appreciate the tranquil spot. Taking in the soothing sound of the cascading water:
Carbunup Reserve is inland comprising a Marri woodland vegetation complex. A stark contrast to the Leeuwin-Naturaliste National Park with its coastal scrub, and vistas out across the Indian Ocean. This particular stretch of the park has several hillside seeps, which are very important to maintaining delicate and often very localised vegetation complexes. The path traverses these and boardwalks have been built to avoid our footfalls compacting the soil, and disrupting the natural flow of water through the thin layers of soil above the granite rock:
The risk had been heightened due to the popularity of Quinninup Falls, resulting in hundreds of visitors each day. While I got to enjoy the falls it in peace, on the two kilometre walk back, I must have passed in excess of fifty people making their way towards it. All focused on the destination, looking forward and not down. I however scanned the ground on the outward and return trip. Being rewarded by finding several Exotic Spider Orchid (Caladenia nivalis), which is another orchid I had forgotten about previously seeing, funnily enough again in 2021:
On the return leg I also found the above single and somewhat wilting Swamp Spider Orchid (Caladenia paludosa). I now had to quickened my pace, completing the 4km walk in a little over forty five minutes. Time was ticking and I had to meet Craig. We were heading to Moses Rocks, which happened to be a mere five minute drive away. He had a narrow window of opportunity, which had no bearing on why we choose this place. That was entirely my doing to allow me to go orchid hunting, but it is easy to get a few quick lines in here:
I was also quietly hopefully the low tide, along with a relatively low 2m swell, would allow us to get into the zawn. Initial impressions were it was not looking promising, but looking in from the top there were just enough boulders out of reach of the waves to make it work. Allowing us access to the southern face of the zawn, which Craig said he couldn’t ever recall climbing. It seems he too has a forgetful brain. I have images of him following me up this wall in 2006. It felt great to be climbing by the ocean again, with the waves adding to the atmosphere:
We started by making the likely second ascent of Howsie’s new route, Dry Spell. Maybe having climbed at Welly Dam yesterday didn’t help, but the start felt pumpy and nervous. Craig noted that it looked like I made a meal of it. Then the roles reversed as he went up the classic of the zawn, at the same grade. With Josh arriving just in time to take some images from above, with Craig’s slow progress giving him plenty of time to move round to get a variety of angles. The routes on this wall do feel nervous, despite the relatively low grades:
It is steep and all the hold slope the wrong way, making you work hard to stay in position. Josh had a narrower window than Craig, hence his slightly later arrival. Now with three of us it made sense to move to Hands Up Wall. Providing more room, as well as being free from the risk of an unexpected king wave giving us an unwelcome bath. In addition the rock striations on this wall are horizontal, making the climbing feel more secure than in the zawn. All up we managed three more lines:
With the sun on our backs as we sat at the base and while we climbed the warm rocks it felt just the right amount of toasty. This was in complete contrast to when we were sat on top. Here the bracing southerly wind buffeted us. Resulting in a good dose of goose pimples, and longing for warmer clothing. Making my way back from my longer distance photo shoot a King Skink (Egernia kingii) was basking on a rock taking in the warmth from both the sun and rock, only escaping into the crevice after I disturbed it:
It made sense that the lower to the ground you got the warmer it felt, and Josh was mimicking the skinks approach while Craig set up the belay above. Craig had thankfully done his usual and brought a thermos of piping hot tea, which went down very well. While it had been a bit of short time at the crag, everyone thoroughly enjoyed being out. Next weekend, if I get back to the coast for a climb I’ll have to remember to bring my Buffalo to fend off the wind. Um… maybe I should put a reminder in my phone, rather than rely on my memory:
Sandbagged 