Seeing the Welly Dam was out of action for a climb today I suggested to Adrian, who had intended to drive down from Perth for the session, that he may fancy heading to a crag just north of Pinjarra instead. Seeing there were at least two of them heading there, my absence wouldn’t be a hindrance. And I really did not feel like the longer hour and half drive each way to get there. Not after all the driving last weekend. Instead, it was a lazy morning writing up Friday and yesterday’s finds, preparing for my next trip, and then what to do:
We were running low on milk. Now while the caravan park is just down the road, a thought crossed my mind. if I nipped into Capel to get the milk, it really would be no fuss to drive an extra five minutes to check out the nature reserve. Being the second option on my list from last week, the one where I said that I would lose and hour or two. The temptation to see if what I wanted to see was in fact out, was too great. Decision made, and so I did indeed loose myself for an hour and half wandering around the reserve:
A quick recky of the spots I knew about proved things really are drying up. Lots of wilted stems that would have been unrecognizable, other than for the fact I had seen them in all their glory some weeks back. Many having been pollinated, which was a great sign. And today for the first time this season, finally, every Sun Orchid I came across was open. As proof the first image of heavily clustered Scented Sun Orchid (Thelymitra macrophylla). There were several other species too, including the above Plain Sun Orchid (Thelymitra paludosa):
Other flowers were catching my eye today too, including the above repeat find of the Leafless Fringed Lily (Thysanotus sparteus). I thought it may have been yet another different species. Due to the sepals being more green, being a much smaller plant, and with each only having one flower open. But it was not different. When growing in open sandy clearings they will often present as smaller and low-lying plants with just a couple of flowers at the tips. I’ve also read that to increase the plant’s reproductive chances, only one flower may open each day:
Then there was the above, a cluster of flowers at the end of a very long wiry stem. Being a Rhizomatous Reed Triggerplant (Stylidium squamosotuberosum). The species name comes from Latin words squamosus and tuberosum meaning scaly and tuberous or bearing tubers, which refers to this plants fleshy, scaly tubers, or rhizomes. The common name also refers to its underground origins, with Rhizomatous meaning having, producing, or spreading through a rhizome. The base word originating from Ancient Greek, and later adopted in Modern Latin:
You may be forgiven for wondering why I would include two images of what appear to be White Fairy Orchids (Caladenia marginata). Look again and you may notice above that the hairs covering the back surface of the sepals and petals are rusty-brown, as is to be expected, but are yellow in the specimen below. These orchids are known to cross with Cowslip Orchids (Caladenia flava), resulting in the Dusky Fairy Orchid (Caladenia × erminea). This hybrid usually exhibits an upper side of the petals and sepals with yellows and hints of red coloration:
None of this exists in the above image, plus the labellum is completely white. In my original research AI suggested it may have been a F2 hybrid or a backcross, where a Dusky Fairy Orchid has crossed with a White Fairy Orchid resulting in more prominent features of the latter. However, digging deeper I’ve also discovered through AI that the Dusky Fairy Orchid, a F1 hybrid, is functionally sterile, as are many plant hybrids. As such it is impossible to achieve a F2 hybrid or a backcross, and what I found is instead explained as an unusually pale form:
Something considered possible due to the highly variable traits of the parent Cowslip Orchid. Either way a pretty neat observation. Just as exciting as the above, which is what I came here to find. It was so pleasing to find well over ten flowering Glossy-Leaved Hammer Orchids (Drakaea elastica), most having been pollinated. Lastly a Pixie Mops (Petrophile linearis) that to prevent self-pollination has a specialized structure, called pollen presenters. Starting out yellow when it has pollen to give, with just one in this image, before turning bright red to signal it is ready to receive pollen:
With a weekend of climbing on my mind, comprising two trips to Welly Dam, I thought I better get a quick walk in during the week to check for orchids. Based on my finds this time last year, I had three places in mind. One was more out of the way, another I knew I would lose an hour or two at, and the last was probably the most convenient being on the way home and likely to be a short visit. This saw me sneaking in a pit stop at the Minninup Tuart Woodland, where I sneezed my way round due to the hay fever season finally catching up with me:
My primary aim was to catch a glimpse of the Tuart Rufous Greenhood (Pterostylis frenchii). You may think it was because of the two Rufous Greenhood species I found on my wonderful trip to visit Kym last weekend. But in truth it was probably because Josh had sent me an image of one that Kellie had found. With assistance, when she was given a tour round a patch of bush in this area, and it may well be the same spot I know of. My first sighting of this species, being a poorly known and only found in one or a few locations, was last year:
And if you check back at the image of the find in the previous post you’ll see the setting looks strangely familiar (https://sandbagged.blog/2025/11/28/the-right-place/). Because, it happened to be exactly the same spot. Last year I came here late in November, which is still five weeks away. Back then I found several specimens in bloom, this time only one was out. It is however a great image in my opinion as it shows the flowers in five, if you look carefully, stages of coming out from their respective and snug protective leaf:
I really wasn’t expecting to see much else, and it seemed that way as I walked round. There were several of Sun Orchids all closed up again, and nice Leopard Sun Orchid (Thelymitra benthamiana) that was open. And then I stumbled across three White Spider Orchids, one was wilting badly but the two I have included here were still in pretty good shape. Five weeks back this place was covered in them, and it was a little overwhelming. The strange thing however is that all three I found today were pale forms, of which I didn’t see any last visit:
Pale form orchids in Australia generally flower at the same time as the normal coloured plants of the same species, rather than coming out later. And I can find no explanation as to why I may have been lucky enough to have observed this but am not complaining. The first two images are of a Sandplain White Spider Orchid (Caladenia speciosa). Having included the close up of the flower head of both finds as it shows the variation of the features, including the calli and fringe configuration, size, and shape. The second find below and above is less clear:
On my first visit here I found a similar specimen in terms of both the shape and how it was holding its petals an sepals rigidly, Back then, even with some expert input, we could one only work out that it was a cross between a Sandplain White Spider Orchid and something else, but what we did not know (https://sandbagged.blog/2025/10/02/a-sticky-ending/). This time it appears that I found a cross between a Coastal White Spider Orchid (Caladenia longicauda subsp. calcigena) and maybe that same something else:
That was it on the orchid front. There were many other flowers out and I couldn’t resist inlcuding the above Leafless Fringed Lily (Thysanotus sparteus). I see these quite often, and then I found a shrub with paler flowers. Just one such shrub, and it may be the lesser sighted Fringed Lily Thysanotus arbuscula. Fringed Lilies (Thysanotus), like Sun Orchids, only open up when there is sunlight and warmth, closing up when it is dark including when it is overcast or raining. Unlike the Sun Orchids this year, the Fringed Lilies are sticking to this routine:
Saturday morning Howsie and I drove up the hill to climb at Welly Dam for a climb, only to be thwarted by a mountain biking competition that had commandeered the entire quarry. It was way too peopley so we drove on. Instead going for a walk to the place I mentioned felt more out of the way, Crooked Brook. There was not much to see on the orchid front, other than Sun Orchids that were still all closed up. This one however was partially open. Being a Plain Sun Orchid (Thelymitra paludosa), which has the largest colour variation of the all the species:
Having come home from the big trip to catch up with Kym a day early, I managed to get through the list of things on my mind to do yesterday. They would have taken up much of today and that left me in a bit of a bind, as today is the one day of the year that I will not work. With the weekend looking hit and miss, although I’m sure I’ll managed to get out to do something somewhere, I thought I would make the most of today’s good conditions and hit a bit of rock. Nothing too serious but keen to get a bit of mileage in, seeing I was flying solo:
Rolling into the carpark several buses and a bunch of other vehicles took up most of the space. Two reasonably sized school groups were preparing to head down to the cliffs. Fortunately for me I had already set my sights on Driftwood Bay. Nice 20m lines and I could hit the eight routes that I had on my radar with two easy setups. The crag is out of sight from the main cliffs so I would not have to contend with the crowds or noise. While there was not too much mucking about required with the ropes I took a slower pace than I sometimes do:
Taking a breather here and there to enjoy the setting. And I also had a couple of snack breaks, which those who climb with me will be shocked to hear. I’ve often been told I should both eat and drink more when I head out. Being advised it helps keep the energy levels up, allows recovery time, and avoids a bunch of negative side effects of not being hydrated enough. With so many pluses it’s a wonder why I wouldn’t have been doing it all the time. Oh well better late than never, as they say. I also stopped to check out a few critters I found:
The above one I felt was worthy of inclusion. I first plumped for a wingless female Velvet Ant (Mutillidae) but on closer inspection it may more likely be a female Flower Wasp (Thynnidae), which is also wingless. Both have way too many species, so I stopped at the family and that alone chewed up enough time. Bob will be happy to hear I racked up a tad over 1,000ft of ascent. Better still on routes that have that more adventurous feel to them, rather than just cragging. So it was a good day on rock, and when done more food and water was consumed:
On the way home I stopped at a couple of spots to check out what might be out. Lots of species, nearly all repeat finds. I did however finally get to find a few Sun Orchids that were opening up. Certainly not because it was hot or sunny. The sun came and went as the clouds were being blown across the sky by a reasonable wind, keeping the temperatures very comfortable. So much so I climbed with my buffalo on the whole time and didn’t feel hot at all. So I’ve no idea why they have finally decided to open up, but I am glad they are:
I found several Scented Sun Orchids (Thelymitra macrophylla) on display including the purple, mauve, and as above blue variety. And below I came across just one Slender Sun Orchid (Thelymitra vulgaris), having smaller flowers on plants that are not as tall. This species is said to have varying forms, one of which grows no more than 150mm and only has one or two flowers. The description fits the bill of the one I found perfectly, even if the stalk is a little bent and buckled. A good find to wind up my time in nature:
It’s been a while that I have suggested you grab a cuppa before starting a post. It is probably however worth it for this one. A rather extended post for a very long overdue trip. One Howsie and I had been scheming for some time now. Unfortunately, something unavoidable came up just days before we were due to head off. This resulted in me driving out solo on Friday, while Howsie had to tackle some deconstruction works that had to be completed by the end of the weekend. I was heading east, aiming to take in a few stops along the way:
Especially seeing I was going to places I would not normally get the chance to check out. As such I did bit of research into potentially good orchid hunting grounds. All up I had a plus five hour road trip ahead of me, and was keen to get some mileage under my belt before the first stop. Also because I wanted to get stuck into the areas that were bit further away, which if I was lucky would yield some new finds for me. There was absolutely nothing to see at the Chirelillup Nature Reserve and my hopes dwindled:
I knew it was a bit late in the season. My research had told me that. Being probably a month past the prime orchid period for this area. Persevering, it was onto the Toompup Nature Reserve where there were again no orchids. I did find the above Coral Lichen (Pulchrocladia ferdinandii), one of the largest and most visually distinct lichens in the region. Obviously named for its visual appearance, with delicate lattice like structures. I also liked the below Blue Tinsel Lily (Calectasia grandiflora) one of eleven species in the genus Calectasia:
The six petals of this dainty flower are blue to start, but turn red as they age. As can be seen I was too late to see these in their full glory. Next the East Warperup Nature Reserve was also lacking in orchids. Everything felt incredible dry, and the sun above also had some bite to it as it inched into the high twenties. So when I crossed the Gairdner River, where water was trickling down, I took five to have a look. It has a single large tree on the bank, under which a local elder believes his ancestors are buried. It was a place to tread lightly and respectfully:
As the banks were covered in pasture grasses and weeds I didn’t even bother looking for orchids. Several waterbirds however kept my attention, mostly a small flock of Pied Stilt (Himantopus leucocephalus). They seemed to individually build enough confidence to fly close to me, land for a bit, and then noisily fly off. The next stop was planned and called the Jacup Highway Park. A short distance up the road from where a bridge crosses a river that is the name sake of my ultimate destination. The Fitzgerald River also had water flowing:
And this time I sat in the shade of the bridge, watching Welcome Swallows (Hirundo neoxena) ducking and diving catching insects above the water. I had a good feeling about this place, but couldn’t figure out why as I searched the banks with an unhealthy amount of weeds making it hard to see anything. Then finally I found, as Verity recently said, ‘just’ a Dragon Orchid (Caladenia barbarossa). Well three close together and they were the only ones I could see. The species name Barbarossa, means redbeard in Italian, likely due to the labellum colour:
While I have seen these before, it has not been for many years because they don’t grow in my local area. As such it was great to see them again, with their quite a unique structure compared to most other orchid species. Not far from these three little gems was a single Rufous Greenhood (Pterostylis roensis), a first time find for me. This specimen looks to be close to its most westerly range, which is some 350km east of where I live as the crow flies. The name come from the Roe Botanical District of Western Australia and a Latin suffix ensis:
I hadn’t heard of the Roe Botanical District before. It covers approximately 74,000 km2 of southern Western Australia. Defined by Eucalyptus Tree species that grow to 10m and have multiple stems, called a mallee growth form, it is also known as the Mallee biogeographic region. One of 89 bioregions across Australia. The Latin suffix that is added to Roe means origin, residency, or belonging to a specific place. Not that this orchid is found across the entire bioregion. It only has a range extending to a several thousand square kilometres:
I found lots of the above, which I believe to be the Ravensthorpe Rufous Greenhood (Pterostylis leptochila). This one has a range of approx. a third of the Rufous Greenhood, and again was a first time find for me. The species name leptochila comes from two Ancient Greek words Leptos and Cheilos meaning fine, small, thin, slender, or delicate and lip or rim. Translating to narrow or slender lipped, which refers to the labellum that has retracted in the above specimen. Next the Koornoog Nature Reserve went back to having nothing to see:
Well that is not entirely true, it did have lots of sun orchids that refused to open despite the hot sunny conditions. Moving along I decided to try my luck at a random road side parking spot. Here more sun orchids doggedly remained closed, but there were also heaps of Common Mignonette Orchid (Microtis media) as well as, sadly, South African Weed Orchid (Disa bracteata). This was the first and only place that was also infested with mosquitoes, so I didn’t hang about too long to snap the above Leopard Sun Orchid (Thelymitra benthamiana):
Getting very close to my destination I passed a big expanse of bush that had been burnt. Fire can bring some species out and I was endeavouring not to stop again, as I was getting close to the time that I said I would arrive. But I stopped anyway at the Kukerarup Memorial. A place to remember the near three dozen Aboriginal people killed approx. 135 years ago in the early years of European settlement near Ravensthorpe. Another place, as the signs said, to walk round quietly and soak in nature. And marvel at repeat find orchids from the previous stops:
Then there was the above. I see so many Red Beak Orchid (Pyrorchis nigricans) basal leaves, but they are renowned for rarely flowering. If you are lucky one plant may bloom, and I have only ever seen one do that in my local area. This is however an orchid that will come up in numbers after fire, and here it did just that. Thousands of plants, and I could only find this one with a single flower that hadn’t blackened and shrivelled up. It would have been an incredible sight several weeks back. But I could hardly complain, with everything I had found:
The last leg of the drive saw me roll up to Kym and Meg’s home in Ravensthorpe, where I was given the same warm Hartley greeting I have always received. That is despite not having caught up with Meg, Tess, Claire, and Beau for three years now, almost to the day. That was when they lived in Albany, and while this is my second trip to climb here last time Howsie and I stayed at the Hopetoun caravan park. As such we only got to catch up with Kym during our daytime forays in search of first ascent glory. Something we hoped for once more:
It was lovely to catch up with the whole family, and that evening we sat round the table to enjoy a hearty meal. While Howsie wasn’t able to make it, Jim had driven over from Albany. Someone else I hadn’t caught up with for ages. Making it feel like an Albany reunion. There is an early riser in the household, as such they tend to crash a bit earlier than most and this suited both Jim and me. Next morning there was more chitchat, but as the family is growing up, there were not the requests to read just one more book or to hang about just a bit longer:
The last trip here was just over a year and half back, and at the end of the second day we had all spied a pillar. And since then we have all wanted to get back to it. This was where we headed for this time, with no idea of what it may hold. While it had been so long between visits, walking along the coastline it really didn’t feel that way. The vegetation, rock, and landscaped all seemed familiar, which I feel is a good thing for the mental state once we were to tie in. When we reached the pillar, we stood on the coastline to admire it for a while:
It wasn’t too far up the slope and we thankfully found an easy path to get to it. Two images up and at the base, there was yet another sun orchid with its buds clammed shut. It stayed that way the whole day, but unlike the others I’d seen on the drive down this one had a single thick, broad, leathery leaf. Making it easier to identify as a Scented Sun Orchid (Thelymitra macrophylla). While both Jim and Kym also marvelled at the find, it was not the reason for coming here. Once we agreed there was a reasonable line to follow, we got ourselves sorted:
From below the upper wall was out of sight, as such we decided to break it up into two pitches. Offering the pointy end to Kym, who hadn’t tied into a rope since the last time Howsie and I came down. As such nerves almost got the better of him. Good rock and gear placements helped calm his nerves, as he made his way up to an ample belay ledge. Jim went up next, taking no time to eat up the delightful start that really did not disappoint. Above there was a stellar looking crack line with a capping rooflet that was impossible to read:
Climbing on twin ropes and with three of us, there was a bit of mucking about to be done. Jim was on belay duty, as Kym sorted myself out to get the drone airborne. Both were more than happy for me to step into the unknown, which looked like it may be a bit tricky. Footholds were at times scant, other than for the crack. A crack that offered wonderful jams, and gobbled up gear. It was so good and then, a body length below the rooflet, the crack closed right up. It took a bit of time to figure out the best way to go, and quite a few deep breathes:
Needing to delicately step right onto the slab, with just friction for feet and not much for my fingers. A bit higher up inverted flakes of unknown quality held promise of providing gear, which after committing to move up to I gingerly placed and tested. It was sublime, or maybe I was being biased because it was an on-sight first ascent. However, both Jim and then Kym raved about it as they followed up. A brilliant line made even more special when we had a celebratory fly over by twenty plus pelicans, which how we came up with the name:
The Pelican Brief (30m, 17). While stars to advise the worthiness of a route should not be given without repeat ascents to confirm the status, we all agreed this should be right up there. Great rock, awesome gear, thought provoking moves, and you couldn’t ask for a more spectacular position. Time to descend and grab a bite to eat back on the rocks by the coast. Trips like this are not about bagging lots of meterage nor routes, we slow down to take the setting in and marvel at just how lucky we are to be here:
Scrambling back down, a Southwestern Crevice Skink (Egernia napoleonis) poked it’s head out to see what all the commotion was about. It certainly didn’t seem to worried about us, and kept sunning itself on the edge of a very big drop. Back by the ocean we had a relaxed lunch, before wandering further down the coast to explore what may lie ahead. A few maybes but too far away to be sure or walk to with the sun high up and starting to bite. The gear was still at the base of the pillar. Left there as there was a possible second line on left hand side:
Jim had done amazingly well to get a clean ascent, it had been a pretty stiff opposition for him. His back was complaining a bit so he decided to play it safe and opt out of a second route. Kym was kinda sitting on the fence. If I had suggested splitting the route up again I’m not sure he would have taken the offer, and we may not have given it a go. As such I racked up and went for it, savouring every move and every gear placement. The lower wall succumbed to a beautifully featured crack, while the upper wall was guarded by a hand traverse:
This lead to a mantle, before more delicate slab work was required. Again the rock was solid, the gear was there when you needed it, and the line had very enjoyable and varied moves. It was nicely consistent at the grade the whole way up, offering another climb that if it had been in a popular location would undoubtedly see lots of accents. As Kym came up he said he was so happy I had climbed it, and that he’d loved it. Only then pointing out the whale that he’d spotted as he was belaying me. You might just be able to see the blow in this image:
After that it disappeared under the water and we never saw it again. Giving me the idea that a good name would be The Hunt for Red October (30m, 14). Film buffs will get the connections. Two perfect climbs named after two great films from the early nineties, as such a fitting name for the crag would be The Big Screen. Not that it will ever get an audience, as these climbs won’t be recorded anywhere else. The Fitzgerald National Park is to ecologically sensitive to encourage climbing, it is a location for those with an adventurous spirit to explore:
Not just a place just to come and bag routes. Making our way back down for the last time, we sorted the gear and made ready for the walk out. Part way along a mother and calf Southern Right Whale (Eubalaena australis), we could tell by the blow pattern, played close to shore. Giving us the perfect reason to sit down for a while, so we could enjoy the show. The walk out felt hot and while it was so tempting to jump in the ocean for a cool off, we needed to head back to Ravensthorpe, freshen up, and catch up with the Hartley family:
That night we had a pub lunch, a great way to have a good feed and not have to worry about cooking or clearing up. Sunday arrived and there wasn’t such a sense of urgency to get out the door. While Kym has not tied into a rope for eighteen plus months, he had been exploring and found lots of boulders to play on. We passed quite a few on the coast on which he has done some impressive problems. But Jim was keen to try his hand at some easier lines, and Kym had just the place in mind. Not far away and with only a ten minute walk in:
Bouldering is not a form of climbing I usually engage in, but a plus factor is there is limited gear required. As we sorted through what we needed a Wolf Spider came out, one of some 160 species found in Australia. There are a couple of genus in the Lycosidae family, this one being in the Union-Jack Wolf Spider genus Tasmanicosa. A name it gets from the distinctive pattern of light and dark radiating lines on its carapace, which is partially hidden in the image. I’ll go further and suggest this was specifically a Garden Wolf Spider (Tasmanicosa godeffroyi):
Being the most common species and found across Australia both in woodlands and suburbia. Two images up you can make out the boulders that we were going to walk to. Keeping a careful eye out for reptiles, as the sun was already up and feeling warm. There were no snakes, sadly, and I only managed to find one Western Bearded Dragon (Pogona minor subsp. minor). One of three subspecies found in Australia. A few spiders were about, but they didn’t hang about long enough for me to see them properly, let alone take an image:
I did like the above Jewel Beetle, one of 1,200-1,300 species found in Australia. The largest Jewel Beetle genus is Castiarina with over 450 species. As such they do not generally have a common name, and most are merely called Jewel Beetles. This one is a Castiarina simulate. This species is said to have a preference for the nectar and petals of flowers from the myrtle family Myrtaceae. This one is feeding on Melaleuca pomphostoma, which is confined to the Ravensthorpe district and the eastern end of the Fitzgerald River National Park:
While I was busy checking out the local reptiles and insects, Kym and Jim were already chatting about problems and preparing for day two of touching rock. Bouldering is a far more powerful and explosive form of climbing. The problems tend to be relatively short and high intensity, as such warming up and resting is an important part. It is easy to go hard and fast, leading to injuries. It’s a bit like climbing/bouldering on an indoor wall. I have been guilty of doing that without rests to a point that I have managed to injury myself. Several times:
The routes today were pretty short, with big holds making it a more forgiving experience. Another issue with bouldering is that often a group will head out. Placing crash mats all over that ends up damaging the vegetation. The scrub here is already sparse. Making it easy to both walk to the boulders and placing the mats with minimal impact to the vegetation. We visited several of the boulders, and did heaps of lines resting in-between to have a drink and a bite to eat. But there was little escape from the sun today, so we knew we wouldn’t last long:
Long enough to get on a heap of fun problems, none of which gave us too much of a scare. I was probably the only one that didn’t like a particular top out. A large wobbly flake on top of one boulder gave me the heebie-jeebies when it moved. Granted it was extremely unlikely to move, but I still decided to find another path. There was enough to keep us occupied for about two hours all up, which felt more than enough. Packing up the gear to head back to the car we did have to be careful not to have picked up any hitchhikers:
The below Ornate Kangaroo Tick (Amblyomma triguttatum), was endeavouring to get a purchase on my trousers. I found another one that was moving surprisingly quickly as it kept heading for me. They usually hang off a twig or similar with front legs out, opportunistically waiting to board a host. This species of tick also have a sensory pits on its front legs and can detect carbon dioxide, body odours, and changes in moisture and humidity. Allowing it to track a host. This one at least got given the flick, before we headed back for a cuppa:
Seeing we had wrapped up reasonably early. I took advantage to get home a day early, after a quick bite to eat and a cuppa. Leaving Kym and the family half a day of the weekend to do something fun, and telling them I’ll visit again and hopefully not leave it quite as long this time. Before going they showed me some images of a place that looked really good, which was on the way home. Due to the time I ended up leaving that spot for next time, but did drop into the Pallarup Nature Reserve which looks to be right next door to it with easier access:
Like quite a few of these rock outcrops the runoff from Pallarup Rock is channelled by a wall into a water tank. Providing a water supply for stock and fire fighting for when things get really dry. Since the early 1990s some 680 water supply systems, which includes dams, soaks, and tanks have been built, of which 480 are still managed and maintained. This being one. Here once more I found lots and lots of sun orchids, all closed up. There seems to be a bit of a theme this year, one I can’t figure out. But I can figure out which species it is:
The Granite Sun Orchid (Thelymitra petrophila), another first for me. The species name petrophila is a word I have used before, but not to identify this orchid. More to describe Howsie and me, as it comes from two Ancient Greek words of petros and philos meaning ‘rock’ and ‘loving’. Not surprisingly the Granite Sun Orchid is a rock-inhabiting species, and thrives in shallow soils on granite outcrops, as above. And just as I was going back to the car I found one that was at least partially open, after which I found my fourth first time sighting:
The Elbow Orchid (Spiculaea ciliata), which I have to say is probably the least attractive orchid I have seen to date. It also grows in large numbers in shallow mossy soil pockets on granite rock outcrops. A late bloomer these were flowering early in their period of October to January. Maybe a reflection of how unseasonably dry and warm it has been. To round the orchids off, and growing alongside the Elbow Orchids I also found lots of Little Laughing Leek Orchids (Prasophyllum gracile). Most had already wilted but a couple were image worthy:
By no means in great condition, but worth including as it is regarded as one of the most common and widespread orchids in Western Australia. Not that we get to see it in our local areas. Sadly there were no reptiles. Meg had shown me some great images of ones they had seen, which had drawn me to check the area out. Maybe next time, but for now it was time to hit the road for another five hours. Although having decided to drive back through the Wheatbelt, I did have two stops to snap the landscape:
I do love seeing the salt lakes. Naturally formed areas where salt has built up over tens of thousands of years. Being an accumulation of trace amounts carried in rainfall and ancient marine deposits. It is concentrated by the high evaporation rates and the creeklines draining to basins such as this. Not to be confused with the man-induced salinisation of the area that is degrading the soil and affecting agriculture and native vegetation alike. That came about due to the clearing the land on mass and changing the way the groundwater and soils interact:
One last image because I had never seen a paddock of purple out here before. While I only saw it in one place I’ve read Woollypod Vetch (Vicia villosa) is a common crop in the eastern Wheatbelt of Western Australia. Used to fix large amounts of atmospheric nitrogen to improve soil fertility ahead of cereal grain crops. An introduced plant with hard seeds capable of self-regeneration and becoming a competitive agricultural pest if not managed. Another pest were the two ticks that did hitch a ride on me, and as I typed Kym said he also found one:
It has been a while since Howsie and I have graced the coastal cliffs that skirt the edge of the Leeuwin-Naturaliste Ridge together. Something we aimed to put right today. An early morning sprinkle meant we were both feeling OK with a slightly later start. Driving out and arriving in daylight, but still with not a sole in sight. We did however spot a couple of Pink Fairies (Caladenia latifolia) walking in. Adding a small splash of colour to the duller green and browns of the scrub either side of the track. I was going to include them but decided against:
Having snapped more images than usual on a morning trip out, I was left to make some tough calls on what stayed in and what was dumped. The fairies lost out for reasons that will become apparent later. We would often have had a little chit-chat about what may be tickling our fancy. In the lead up to today nor during the drive out was there any mention of what we may be keen to hit. I did however find out that Howsie had purposely not spilled the beans, as in the past when he has let me know of his lofty ideas I have held him to account:
On arrival at the base of the cliff he did give some hints away. Standing and peering up at the walls, eyeing up a couple of tricky routes. None of which we ended up climbing. He was not entirely sure where his leading head was at. Due to having not done too much climbing of late, other than a few quick before work sessions clipping bolts. As such the idea was to start easy. And while we intended to jump on some fun routes to place trad gear, the first two did include a few bolts. The third was all trad, and that was also when the rain started to fall:
Just as he was running things out as can be seen above. Holding it together he avoided the long whipper that awaited below. Four routes in and we moved to another wall. The sun may have come back out for the next climbs, but on this face we were directly in the path of the wind. Something we had been protected from on the first wall. It was whipping up from the south, biting cold. As such we stayed rugged up never sure if we were feeling cold or hot, as the weather seemed to flip and flop about. Keeping us on our toes as we made each ascent:
And Bob, as you’ll see above, I too have blown a toe in my Jokers. Reckon I’ll keep wearing them for a while, as I seem to be able to bag a reasonable grade even in these aging shoes. There were no slips or misses today, and we certainly didn’t miss the surprise that awaited us on the last two climbs. A Southwestern Carpet Python (Morelia imbricata) lay there soaking up the sun as we climbed, and from both lines we were able to have a real close up stickybeak of it. It didn’t budge the whole time, other than to make some slight body adjustments:
We do not often to get to see these nocturnal snakes out in the open. This one looked really dark, not showing off its normal lovely carpet type patterning. The dark scales are better at absorbing heat, so it may have been thermo-regulating itself. Being able to slightly adjust how light or dark they look or appear, and allowing it to absorb more heat when required. Not a true colour change but a physiological shift. It may also be preparing to shed its skin, after which it will return to its lighter base colours. Cloudy eyes is another indicator of this:
The head was however buried in its folds, so we were not able to check the eyes to see if it was preparing to shed. On the last climb, a group of tourists walked by and took images and videos of Howsie following up, which is where the above picture came from. Taken just before the next one of Howsie about to get his last look at the snake, before we packed up and headed out. It had been another stellar day on rock, and as we drove out I suggested a quick stop to check the little patch of bush that had provided me with a fun spider orchid recently:
We found seven species all up, including one specimen of the Scott River Spider Orchid (Caladenia thinicola). Not the ones I found last time, they were fully wilted although both looked to have been pollinated so that was a good sign. We also found a few Blue Lady Orchid (Thelymitra crinita), one of which had its flowers open. The species name crinita comes from a Latin word meaning hairy. This was used to describe the tiny, finger-like yellow tufts or crests sitting on top of the central column, as opposed to the finer hairs of the purple tuffs:
There were also a couple of spider orchids that I did not recognise. Very distinctive and long pendulous petals and sepals and a lovely highly featured labellum, as shown below. I wasn’t able to work it out so had to wait till I got home to see what we had found. Yet another local orchid that due to development, weed invasion, grazing, and prescribed burning practises is listed as Threatened Flora by the Western Australian Government and Endangered by the Australian Government. There sadly seem to be too many that are at risk in our local areas:
On a more positive note, for me at least, this was a first time sighting. One I have had on my radar for many years now. Thinking I should have been able spot it, as it is one of the tallest spider orchids in Western Australia. It also has the largest flower alongside one other spider orchid, one I have been able to find before. This one being the Giant Spider Orchid (Caladenia excelsa), and very worthy of its name. Despite the continued threats, hopefully these gentle giants will continue to inhabit the earth for many years to come:
I wasn’t quite sure what time of the day to hedge my bets for today. A term that started its origins, as all good idioms do, a long time ago in land far away. Way back to the 1500s when the term hedge began to be used to mean to dodge, evade, or avoid a direct commitment. Possibly likened to staying hidden behind a hedge, coming from an old English word hecg meaning a boundary marker that enclosed property, fence, or thick bush. Then came the 1600s and the use shifted into a context related to protection and finances:
It was first used in a gambling context in 1672 in a satirical play The Rehearsal, written by the 2nd Duke of Buckingham, George Villiers. These days it is commonly used far more broadly, describing anything that may be applied to reduce risk and/or keep your options open. On my mind was that the closest pluviometers, coming from Latin and Greek words pluvial and metron meaning rain and an instrument for measuring, indicated the area received a decent half an inch of rain late in Thursday. Enough to potentially dampen the steep quarry walls:
Friday didn’t look as wet but was potentially a bit sprinkly, yes I have made that word up. As such I put my money on an after work visit. As I left the office with enough of a drizzle to have to use the windscreen wipers, some may have questioned my sanity. On the coastal crags that wouldn’t worry me, but the friction holds on these quarried granite faces quickly become pretty useless. Who, however, was to say that 30km to the east it was also less than ideal conditions. My gamble looked to have paid off and it was dry’ish on arrival:
That all changed by the second route. Despite picking off the well-rehearsed and, for this place, lower grade routes, things became interesting. Not put off, I continued and managed seven clean laps from the ten I hit before feeling completely stuffed. Often having to work a different sequence due to the conditions, and pulling way harder than I normally would. Focusing so much that I did not even stop to take any images of the multiple sun orchids, not surprisingly on a day like today closed up. There was yet another reason for coming up here:
I haven’t been able to see the above sight for over five years. Not since the 1966 bridge at the base of the dam was closed. That was in May 2021 because of the enormous increase of traffic resulting from the mural, completed just three months prior. With the government not prepared to hedge their bets on there not being an accident, they footed the hefty final $37 million bill. To put things into perspective, that is just under half the amount of funding provided in the state wide natural resource management program over the last ten years:
Onto brighter topics, despite losing my bet, it was great to have a play on the walls of Welly Dam quarry to round off the week. And nice to finally be able to drive home ‘the back way’, through the countryside as opposed to along the highways. Not surprisingly I was feeling somewhat achy the next morning. I did however need to stretch my legs with a march through Peppy Beach, while Lisa and the Peppy Plungers prepared to gather for a dip. Today I was pleased to have a sprinkle in the sky, as it brought with it the promise of a pot of gold:
Due to my early mornings the poodles have come to expect being fed bright and early, or maybe not so bright currently being before first light has come in. In truth it feels like they have trained me into an early breakfast. This morning as the ritual was being performed a Marbled Gecko (Christinus marmoratus), who had been hunting for a fed itself, scurried up the wall. Magically holding on, assisted by millions of microscopic hair-like structures on their feet, called setae. A feature that would be most welcome for today’s destination:
Marbled Geckos, as with many reptiles and some amphibians, can shed their tail if it is grasped by a predator. This is called autotomy derived from two Greek words of auto and tome meaning self and sever. They can also, along with a smaller number of reptiles, drop their tails when they are stressed. Something called caudal autotomy and used to distract a potential predator that has not yet attacked them. Allowing them to get out of the way and hide. Once the tail is gone they can regrow a new one. Taking approx. eight months for a Marbled Gecko:
Regeneration or healing of damaged or lost body parts is another aspect of this little creature that would be oh so great to have. And one that would result in the injuries I’ve been sustaining and then needing to rehab over the last few years being much quicker to resolve. Enabling me to simply get on with climbing. Not that any of them have ever truly stopped me. Slow me down maybe, but it is a rare thing for my rock antics to be put on ice. Moses Rocks was our destination today. Chosen due to someone else’s long absence from climbing:
And also because this person needed to take it reasonably easy, as they are still recovering from an injury way worse than any of mine. Moses Rocks in my opinion offers a bunch of fun, short, and lower grade lines that would be perfect for Jessie’s reintroduction to climbing. She just so happened to have successfully helped me better understand and rehab my latest ailment. So when I found out she was an ex-climbing and keen to reengage with rock, it felt kind of right to offer her the opportunity to get out, which she jumped at:
Not having visited many of the crags in the area before, she was in for a treat. Lapping up one and then two lines. After which she admitted it would probably be best to rest up and leave it at that for today. Practising what she preaches, which was good to see. Applying self-control and listening to her body. The climbs had ignited a desire to work on her own rehab with a greater focus on climbing, so I am sure she will be joining us again. Josh also tagged along, so as Jessie kicked back and took in the wonderful Moses Rocks atmosphere, we cranked on:
He managed a clean ascent of a line that had alluded him on our last visit here. And shortly after suggested a keenness to have a go at another line that has beaten him twice before. A very short but steep and pumpy little number. Taking my time on the route I pointed out all the crucial holds, including a few body position hints for the best way to tackle the crux move. Jessie meanwhile took advantage of my pace to snap a few images. As such while I am usually the photographer on my trips out, here is a rare shot of me on lead:
Try as Josh might the climb once more had him beat, but not for lack of trying again, and again, and again. While feeling pretty pooped he hinted at having at least one more route in him, so we moved into the sun for another line. Here there were some much easier options that I pointed out to Jessie, and her mind starting whirling. Keen for another climb but before committing she tested her body, which once again told her not today. Josh however opted for one more, even choosing the line. Somehow I think he too should have listened to his body:
Since last week’s forays, which were that bit further away, proved to be pretty successful my motivation to get out to the local spots was a little lacking. This afternoon however, after wrapping up for the week of sitting at a computer for work, I made the effort to have a mooch round the Capel Nature Reserve. Really not expecting to see too much, as none of the promised rain over the last few weeks has materialised and it is all getting very dry. I spent over and hour and a half, spotting a few repeat finds and not a lot else to show for it:
It was however exciting to spot my second ever Diamond Spider Orchid (Caladenia rhomboidiformis), so while a repeat find for this season I felt the need to share it. I mentioned last time how it was part of the Clubbed Spider Orchids. It was not given that status however until 1889, having formerly in 1971 been considered one of the Green Comb Spider Orchids. After a bit more looking into things, I noted there have been no sightings of this species reported round or anywhere near Capel on the community scientist forums:
A few being much further south and inland, but most being way to the west. I should probably be loading all my more unusual finds on these forums, but would rather spend the time researching and writing them up here. Between that and work I no doubt spend way too much time already hunched over a keyboard. One last fact about this little gem before I move on. The species name of rhomboidiformis is formed from an ancient Greek word, suffix, and Latin word. Rhombus, oid, and forma meaning rhombus, likeness, and shape:
Which put together refers to the diamond-shaped labellum. Above is a male Milky Flower Spider (Zygometis xanthogaster) on a Sandplain White Spider Orchid (Caladenia speciose). Being distinctly different from the larger, whiter, and more bulbous female, a specimen of which I stumbled across at Crooked Brook last year https://sandbagged.blog/2025/11/28/the-right-place/. I was taking this image to capture the split fringes, which is a good way to identify this White Spider Orchid. Instead getting distracted by the Milky Flower Spider:
Above after seeing lots of buds oh so close to opening up I have finally found a true Sun Orchid in bloom, and only this one plant. Being a Shy Sun Orchid (Thelymitra graminea), called shy because the flowers often stay closed even on glorious sunny and warm days like today. Rather than opening wide like other Sun Orchids. No doubt as this weather continues more species of Sun Orchids will come out, and I’ll get bogged down trying to work out the small details to tell them apart. But not today:
After seeing my first Bee Orchid yesterday, this one starts with a Western Honey Bee (Apis mellifera). A worker bee collecting nectar and pollen from Coast Banjine (Pimelea ferruginea), whose bright pink flowers lit up the round, small and compact shrubs that were popping up between the granite boulders. This bee was busy as shown by its pollen baskets, or corbiculae. Flying from flower to flower the bee builds up a positive electrical charge on its body hairs. This draws pollen from the negatively charged flowers, coating the bee:
The bee will use its front and middle legs like combs to scrape all the loose pollen off its face, head, and thorax. Transferring it to corbiculae, where it is held in by curved hairs. Amazingly a bee can carry pollen weighing up to 35% to 50% of their body weight. No wonder foraging worker bees don’t live any longer than 6 weeks. All work and no play, doesn’t sound like fun to me. And today I was here to play, and in case this sight is not familiar I was once more at Smiths Beach rocks. With a swell a quarter of the size that smashed this place last week:
The winds were also more favourable. No longer strong to gale force and only gentle, plus blowing off shore from where I was climbing. I did not expect the rock to be dry. It wasn’t. But today, for those that know, the blue rope indicates I was flying solo. With a rope above and the great friction this rock provides I was sure I would be fine. Plus I aimed to hit the easier Harbour Wall. Picking off six fun lines. While they shouldn’t present many difficulties I would still have to work as I played, relax your core on a route here and you usually come off:
From blue to purple, with my 0.5 Camelot matching nicely with this Swift-footed Rock Crab (Leptograpsus variegatus). It watched me nervously. Not able to back up, the crab shifted this way and that, as I placed the piece of gear. One of several that I wanted to prevent me from taking a pendulum swing if I fell off. I’m pleased to say that I didn’t force the crab to relocate, and also didn’t fall off. I did however have to work reasonably hard. Howsie and my regular visits to the steep climbing at Welly Dam just doesn’t prepare you for this place:
The rounded holds and blank faces demands use of friction. It took a while for me to get into the style. The first few routes felt way tougher than they ought to. I should probably take a breather between each ascent, but struggle to deviate from my solo session routine that has been embedded over many years now. While the grades went up so did my familiarity with the rock condition and climbing style required. Although I almost blew it on the last route. The final move being the biggest move on any route today, massively relying on a foot smear:
Another pair of shoes hit the wall. The toe blew out just as I pushed up on it to reach the very far away next hold. Making my foot slip. Just like when you have a blowout while driving, it is a case of staying calm. I somehow managed to stay on the wall, adjust the foot placement, and finish up with twelve clean ascents. Being way more successful that the real reason I came here, which was to find that elusive Limestone Spider Orchid. Giving up after scouring the scrub for way too long. I probably should have pinned the location of the spike found last week. At least I was rewarded by finding a Western Bearded Dragon (Pogona minor):
Loading the car ready for an early morning start to head up the hill with Howsie, the moon lit up the evening sky. Forming a specky phenomenon in the same way I described when the sun had, as Craig and I were climbing at Castle Rock some months back. Not surprisingly 22-degree halos tend to occur more often around the sun than moon. For the night time display to come on the atmospheric conditions have to align with a sufficiently bright moon. It was at 95% and I did check on subsequent nights as the full moon approached but there was no halo:
This post is not about climbing. Although I will say that we had a quick look for sun orchids at Welly Dam. Sadly being an early morning climb none of them were on display. And no I didn’t head to the Capel Nature Reserve after climbing. Work was calling so my destination was the office. I did however have a quick walk round my local reserve in Capel Thursday afternoon. Yes the images are out of kilter, but the above picture felt like a nice one to start with. So now it is time to see what orchids I have found recently starting with this lovely and small spider:
The Diamond Spider Orchid (Caladenia rhomboidiformis) measures no more than a couple of inches across. Four years back I thought I had come across this inland near Nannup. Looking at that find in more detail and with a number of years more experience, just like another species in my last post, I had incorrectly identified it. As such this is the first time I had seen the Diamond Spider Orchid, or at least I think so after finding two past incorrect assessments. It is included in the group known as Clubbed Spider Orchids, but has a distinct difference:
The clubbed group all have thickened, club-like glandular tips on their petals and sepals. The Diamond Spider Orchid displays this on the sepals but not the petals, which are pointed rather than clubbed. The one I got confused four years back is one of the other Clubbed Spider Orchids, with the sepals and petals being clubbed. The above one could also prove tricky if found round Dunsborough. That is because the above Swamp Spider Orchid (Caladenia paludosa) is closely related to the Dunsborough Spider Orchid (Caladenia viridescens):
The Dunsborough Spider Orchid has a massively smaller range. Other telling features being it is slightly smaller, has paler greenish-yellow petals and sepals, and the labellum has a more dull maroon apex. I bumped into a couple of people experiencing the reserve for the first time and got chatting. They mentioned an impressive spider orchid they saw at Crooked Brook Forest, and I knew straight away what it was and where they found it. Having seen the above Carbunup King Spider Orchid (Caladenia procera) there before:
Despite seeing it last year, I still made a quick trip after work on Friday to see what else there may be. The answer being nothing new, and not much at all. Interestingly the Carbunup King Spider Orchid is listed as Critically Endangered under both Western Australian and Australian legislation, a key reason being an ‘extremely limited range’. I have however seen it pop up in in some unexpected places that are quite far and wide, and regularly see it each year. The Dunsborough Spider Orchid is only listed as Endangered under Australian legislation:
Not only does it have a considerably narrower range, but based on my efforts it has been far harder to find. I don’t think I will ever understand the logic applied, so time to move along both in terms of topic and geographical location. The people I was chatting too also told me of something they had seen down in Augusta. Something I have definitely not seen before, and have been keen to find for years now. This place would take a little more time to get to, which saw me driving down there on Saturday despite the forecast looking a little messy:
My destination being Flat Rock, where I have only been once before with Craig. That trip was in December, looking for orchids that have a festive theme. Conscious of how dry it has been this year my hopes were not too high, even though this visit being in spring. Flat rocks is a granite outcrop, with a thin veneer of soil. This means the area is open with no tall trees and very few shrubs of any height. The undulating granite provides areas for water to pool both on the surface and within the thin soil prolife, as such it can be quite a productive area:
And as the images show I was having a ball! The first image being a Forester Moth (Pollanisus cupreus) on a Pepper and Salt Shrub (Philotheca spicata). The wind was up so while I did get one image of the lovely metallic forewings shining in the sunlight, a gust resulted in the moth splaying its wings for balance. The reason for using this image was its proboscis can be clearly seen deep inside a flower. The thin soil did not stop the plants, and there were blankets of them all over. I also liked the Woodbridge Poison (Isotoma hypocrateriformis):
Again not an orchid but the deep red stem that grades to green, as do its narrow upright leaves, really drew my attention. Now onto the orchids, of which there were more than I have included but having seen some already this year they are not in the post. The Lemon-scented Sun Orchid (Thelymitra antennifera) will however get a special mention. There were literally thousands. Unfortunately, and even with the sun out for long periods, they were all closed up. Two images up is a first time find for me, although not the one I was hoping to see:
Lots of tiny Swamp Mignonette Orchid (Microtis atrata) were in clusters. The flowers are 1-2mm and the plants reach four to five inches tall, although when in water they can reach up to eight inches. These were on the short side, maybe two inches. The next one I am going to play safe, and say it is a Common Mignonette Orchid (Microtis media) as opposed to the more rare South Coast Mignonette Orchid (Microtis quadrata). I’ll need to take some macro images of the flowers next time, as the images I took just aren’t clear enough to make the bold call:
The mossy patches on the granite were in parts covered with small hairy leaves, and I was lucky to find two of the White Fairy Orchids (Caladenia marginate) in bloom. Then there was the above, which made the trip worthwhile all by itself. The Augusta Bee Orchid (Diuris molloyae). Like so many that I mention this also has a limited range, and while it has been known for just over twenty years it was only formally named as a new taxon last year. Bee Orchids are lumped in with Donkey Orchids, and this is the first of any of the bees I have seen:
Rain started to lightly fall, so it was time to head off. I had selected a few spots to check out on the way back, locations that my twenty year old orchid book suggested. The first one was behind the waste transfer station at Kadardup, I kid you not. I do wonder why these little patches of bush made it into the book with so many expansive areas not mentioned. Regardless I went there, having my doubts as I walked through Arum Lilly infested and rubbish littered bush. But it did improve with the above first find:
It may have been a Scott River Spider Orchid (Caladenia thinicola), but it is hard to tell at such an early stage. The next find was however easy, being a Leaping Spider Orchid (Caladenia macrostylis). The only one I saw and well hidden in the scrubby understorey. This Spider Orchid shows almost zero variation across its very wide range. This is a little unusual as most spiders will hybridize and vary wildly in appearance depending on where they grow. Next is a Karri Cowslip Orchid (Caladenia flava subsp. sylvestris), identifiable by the white colouring:
Generally found in the lower south-west, so not one I come across too often. The next two spots near Karridale and Witchcliffe didn’t yield anything at all. Maybe due to the season we are having, but equally it may not be. Making me think that twenty years on the book could be a little outdated with its suggested areas. Although the last spot off the road to Gracetown proved very successful four years back. This time it was quiet and I only found one Funnel-web Spider Orchid (Caladenia infundibularis), which is what I wanted to see, but not quite ready to put on its full display:
