CANYONING IN PARADISE 

My intention today was to sample four connected canyons. These notes are written for those who have yet to succumb to the seduction of canyoning as a logical summer extension to bushwalking. If you are still wavering about whether this  is for you, now is the time to put doubts aside and give it a go. I promise (as does leader Graham Conden) that the experience will add a new dimension as to how you view your relationship with the Australian bush. Forget all about grid references for this. Your mind should be focused on beauty, form, colour, contrast, sound, light and the multi-dimensional sensations that arise from interacting with water as well as land.

Forget about the walking required to arrive at the start point. It is merely a means to an end. As you enter Joe’s Canyon the emotions click into overdrive. There is an intensity, a quickening of the heartbeat, an expectation of adventure. The towering walls, water-sculpted over aeons of time close in; the light play of sun and shadows forces you the intruder to feel diminutive in this scene. You are in a canyon – albeit a dry one. Water-shaped pebbles raw with recent natural wear crunch under foot; ferns clinging precariously to impossible places festoon the walls; the air is markedly cooler; convoluted twists and turns become more complex; expectations of what is around the next turn are heightened. This is adrenalin time. The canyon widens, then narrows; log-jams remain as mute evidence of the power of floods past; a bold water dragon challenges your presence - experiences chase each other. All this and we have not yet put a foot in flowing water.

Abruptly, Joe’s Canyon comes to an end as it joins the larger Du Faur’s Canyon. The abrasive crunch of feet on dry rocks and stones ceases on a rock shelf overlooking an extensive, clear deep pool. We have arrived at the point where any pretence of bush walking ends. It is canyoning time, gear off and wet suits on. Lilos are inflated. Dry bags are secured. Some are eager to test the crystal clear water. Photo opportunities as we record the interfacing event. Some final words from Graham, then it is splash and paddle as we move with the current into a magical, silent water world. We are in a real canyon – a wet one. We are in Du Faur’s Canyon.

It is another world - a world where water, light, sound and nature’s sculpture combine. The need to capture images is obsessive. A large water spider  poses elegantly for a photo, its attenuated legs giving it a spread of over 80mm. A real beauty. Gliding along, the sun is warm on my back, I stop and prop on my lilo to capture image after image of deep pools where the bottom is lost in inky blueness; to a red and orange gravel bed with white water bubbling across it; to lazy stretches of white sand covered with just enough water to take on a blue green tinge.

All too quickly we are at the Bell’s Canyon junction. Here the erosion products of two powerful creeks have created a large sandy beach and swimming pool. Whether it is the effect of global warming or whether I have become more cold tolerant, Bells Creek’s reputation for being 6–8 degrees colder than Du Faur’s seems to have ameliorated. It is quite pleasant. The Bell’s canyon contains some brilliant sections. Our journey takes us over wonderful moss and fern encrusted boulders, through slots, up mini waterfalls; along narrow dark swim sections and finally to the first set of falls. It is tempting to go further, but time is an issue. The retrace is as good as the explore. We notice things we had missed. Glaxia fish, their dark, sleek bodies gliding effortlessly; epiphytes beg to be examined and photographed . We arrive back at the junction ravenous. Lunch! The sun warms us while we eat.I close my eyes and am back in Bell’s Canyon, savouring the experience.

Reality check. Time to push downstream in what is now Bell’s Creek. The rock blockup provides a challenge as large boulders of impossible shape with equally impossible access are negotiated without mishap. Several more specimens of fresh water crayfish show little fear and move effortlessly in reverse when approached.

Suddenly a sand bank and we are at the junction with the Wollangambe River and its own canyon complex. Not enough time today to explore this wonderful canyon, (I have followed it previously to Geronimo Canyon), so forsaking these pleasures we return to the Wollangambe River. Here the canyon walls start to widen and the water shallows. Vistas open up. In no time at all we are at the exit point.   I feel deprived. I am to be taken off my summer narcotic of choice and forced to be a bushwalker again (a damn good second choice).The change area is busy. Wetsuits are washed and partially dried. Lilos are deflated and the process of reverting to bushwalking is completed.

Photos and story by Michael Keats