Having already pushed the expedition back a week i was loathe to delay it any more, so after an exchange of text messages the 3 of us (myself, Andy the Fixie Guy, and Shannon From Down South) agreed to meet at Imbil anyway and see what we could do.
Rather than spend who knows how long riding in the rain i hitched a lift in Andy's Subaru. Given it's running eleventy billion psi of boost, the first priority was getting to a servo.
In due course we reached Imbil, where somehow there was no rain at all. We set off through Bella Creek-
We started to climb Mt Buggery, and i was immensely relieved i hadn't come on Yami, as the road was in unbelievably bad shape, with huge ruts, washouts, and sharp edged rocks galore. I spent most of the climb with my face contorted in pain at the horrific noises emanating from underneath Andy's car.
The original plan had been to hike down Fisherman's Spur, which is supposed to pop out just downstream from the Gates of Yabba (ie the start of the gorge), but Shannon had found GPS coordinates for a track that allegedly existed up near the boundary of Old Yabba Station, and which would in theory deliver us straight to the top of the falls.
We reached the station boundary and parked up-
And set off down a 4wd track.
After all the trials Andy and I had endured in the past, all i could think was "can it really be this easy?"
Of course not!
The easy 4wd track lasted only a hundred metres or so before disappearing completely, we then followed a remarkably rusty barbed wire fenceline a little further until we reached Weaner Rock (so named for a stampede of weaners that went over the edge into the gorge and the afterlife).
Lovely though the view was, we had something like 1,000 feet of thin air below us, and no obvious way down (besides BASE jumping i suppose).
We walked off to the side a little way, and decided that it was JUST possible to make our way down to the bottom of the gorge at this point.
As per usual, my photogoraphy "skills" don't convey the gravity of the situation. The valley wall was very close to vertical most of the time, and we completed the near 300 metre drop in only half an hour. The most efficient (and tremendously enjoyable) means of travel was to just sit down and slide as though we were riding invisible toboggans. Unfortunately this meant Andy's shorts were very quickly torn to shreds.
We eventually reached level (ish) ground a little way up from the Gates of Yabba, and while Andy and Shannon had a rest i jumped over to the other side of the creek to send the drone up. There was a very light breeze which forced the drone to drift back over to the western side of the creek, and while the flight ended in a tree, it wasn't far off the ground and was easily recovered.
We made our way up the gorge over the endless array of rocks-
And after a little while (and another successful drone flight) we reached Stehben's Chute.
Now you may have noticed that i've mentioned the drone twice already without posting any footage. Well when we reached the bottom of Stehben's Chute i sent her up, getting some fantastic views. Just as i was about to bring her in for a landing, a breeze came up out of nowhere and pushed the drone towards a cliff face. The motors weren't anywhere near powerful enough to get to safety, and all i could do was watch as my precious drone hit the cliff and tumbled down into a deep, dark washpool.
Like a man possessed (well i was possessed, by fear of losing a $100 drone and 3 excellent videos) i stripped to my jocks, much to Andy and Shannon's amusement, and set about climbing across the sheer rock face above. I got much further than i expected, at the expense of almost pulling out several fingernails, but eventually my luck ran out and i plunged into the gloom, badly hitting my leg on the way.
Laugh if you will (Andy and Shannon certainly did) but i have a deep seated phobia of bodies of water like this, or to be more accurate, whatever the hell might be lurking within them. So this was NOT an enjoyable experience! All thoughts of the drone were gone, and my only concern was getting the hell out of the water as soon as possible, ideally sooner.
While i stared into the abyss and mourned my sinking aerial photography career, Andy and Shannon got started on the other priority of the expedition, climbing past the Gates of Heaven to access the top half of the falls.
From below, it looked like a walk in the park, with handholds galore it would surely just be a matter of putting one hand/foot in front of the other.
30 metres up it was a different story, grip of any sort was laughably scarce and the consequences of even a minor slip didn't bear thinking about. I got less than halfway up before i ran out of grip and nerves (and also got stung by a wasp), Andy got a bit further before his nerves cracked too. Shannon on the other hand, appeared not to know the meaning of the word fear (or the words "plummeting to certain death") and disappeared over the top.
This allowed us to discover the bizarre effects of the various rock formations on sound, as from some points we could hear Shannon clearly, at other points nothing at all. Just as we were getting concerned we heard him call out that he was making his way down, and after about half an hour he was back at the base with a few photos of the Top Plunge and the very understated verdict of "that was probably a bit dangerous up there".
After a short rest we headed back down the gorge, and as we didn't actually know where the Fisherman's Spur track came out, it was decided to just head straight up the western wall of the gorge just below Corner Pool.
In hindsight, this was not a particularly good idea.
For what felt like (and easily could have been) several hours, we fought our way up the near vertical slope, relying on tufts of grass and in many places just burying our hands and feet into the dirt to try and find purchase. It was even more enjoyable for me, as i was stung by another wasp on the way. Around the same time, i reached down to pat my Winchester folding knife, only to find that it had disappeared.
In spite of the overcast conditions, it was hot and extremely humid, and in short order both Andy and Shannon ran out of water. I had enough left to ration it out amongst the 3 of us, with plenty going to Shannon on account of the significant extra work he had done at the falls.
Eventually we staggered over the top onto the Kingaham plateau, and from there it was a straightforward shuffle back to the waiting cars.
We shook hands and headed our seperate ways, with Shannon heading south through Jimna, and the Subaru occupants aiming for Imbil. Now i mentioned earlier that Bella Creek Road was in pretty poor shape, but on the return it seemed a whole lot worse. When we reached Imbil the cause was immediately clear, both of the Subaru's front dampers had failed completely (which made the rest of the drive to Noosa "interesting".
On account of the heat, and the fact Andy has a pool, i got Mrs LDR to meet us there with Winnie, and we piled into the water. It's amazing how much extra energy one can muster at the sight of water that doesn't have algae growing like kelp in it.
The day wasn't quite over though, just as i was leaving Chatueau de Andy, i got stung by another two wasps!
While the final tally of one broken car, a lost drone and a lost knife was rather dispiriting, no one got hurt or left behind, so that's something.
It is clear that reaching the top half of the pools is not really a viable prospect without proper equipment, so the next forays will be to skirt the top of the gorge on the western side, and to find a route up to the Black Gully Pocket ridge which will allow a view of the falls in their entirety.
In other, much happier news, i managed to sail through the tests required to gain a forklift licence, which will provide interesting new work prospects.
Fair Winds,
LDR.