Tomorrow’s departure day, so I packed away some of the stuff I wouldn’t need either today or tomorrow before setting off for the national parks.

First, I pulled over on the side of the road to check out Thunderbolt’s hideout.  Remember Thunderbolt from the poster back in Tenterfield?  It was just a short walk along a little trail.

Even though it’s close to Girraween, the environment is different – the air isn’t as dry, and the bush is much denser.

You didn’t think you’d get out of a national park without me dumping landscapes on you, did you?

Or recordings of bird song?

As demonstrated, I could hear plenty of birds, but they were difficult to spot.

But once you ducked underneath the edge, the rock rose so sharply you could actually stand up.

It was weird – the rock went very low on either side, but you had a lot of room once you were inside.  No wonder people thought this would be a good hiding spot – you were very sheltered, and could live quite comfortably without any kind of tent or awning.

There was a small path branching off from the hideout route early on, and a sign promised Paddy’s Flat tank traps, so I followed it.

The path wasn’t nearly as well-maintained as the Girraween ones – I had to do some scrambling to get through here.  At times it was hard to see where to go next, and I was glad of the GPS beacon in my pocket.

Very lush scenery though:

No wonder people say Australia seems very ancient – you could shove a triceratops in any of those pictures and it wouldn’t look out of place.

I managed to record a familiar friend – the New Holland Honeyeater!

Not for very long though – I had trouble recording the birds the way I did at Girraween.  Maybe because the bush was denser here, but it was harder to find them, and so harder to get the camera on them.

I heard some frogs as I passed near a creek, plus a very distinctive bird:

You’re probably meant to continue on, but I couldn’t find the track anymore, and didn’t trust my sense of direction enough to blunder around in the bush hoping for the best.  That’s how horror movies start!  So I turned back.  But it’s alright – I found some more birds on the way back.

Remember that White-browed Scrubwren I found in Girraween?  This is either a female or a juvenile male –it still has the white markings, but not the dark head.

Even though Girraween looks different from the Bald Rock area, they have much of the same birds.  I found another Eastern Yellow Robin:

Even though it fluttered off in the video, it was only to perch on another, nearby branch and then hold so still I had no need for video.  I’m not sure what it is about these robins, but they don’t dart around nearly as much as the other birds – they do a quick flutter, then sit in one place like they’re waiting for you.

There it is, even giving me some different poses.

Now for something different!  A Lewin’s Honeyeater, eating from some flowers.

It was difficult to retrace my steps in some places – the path had been so narrow before it disappeared that it very easy to lose in the undergrowth.  But eventually I popped out just below my car, and I was on the road again.

Not much further along, I spotted a sign indicating tank traps, so I pulled up to see what I’d previously been denied.

As you can see the ‘traps’ were just a whole host of thick poles jammed into the ground.  Apparently the idea was that the tanks would be able to go over them, but they would tilt up as they did so, exposing their undercarriage to attack.

Driving further along the road, I spotted some wallabies on the verge so I slowed down to a crawl just in case.  You really want to avoid hitting kangaroos and wallabies, and not for purely altruistic reasons – they’re big animals, and can really damage your car.  Even the smaller wallabies can put a dent if you hit them hard enough.

Most of them hopped away, but one of them seemed curious – it hung around and let me get this nice close-up.

A few minutes later, I was forced to hit the brakes again, this time for what I think might have been a Swamp Wallaby.  It had a much darker coat than the other wallabies I’d seen, and a stockier build, but unfortunately it was much shyer than Curious Wally up there and was gone before my camera was out.

There were no more close calls after that, and I reached Boonoo Boonoo park in one piece.

With the way it’s spelled, you wouldn’t guess the name is actually pronounced ‘bunna-bunoo’, but there it is.  It’s on the way to Bald Rock, and has a waterfall lookout just a short distance from the carpark, so I’d decided to stop there first.

I took a video of the waterfall.  Partly so you guys can hear the water, and partly so you can get an appreciation of how high up I was!

The view:

I was feeling rather hungry now, so I retreated into the shade for a sandwich and a drink of water.

I could have gone straight on to Bald Rock, but there was a quick, 200m walk down to some rock pools, so I took a stroll.

I didn’t really see much there, but I could hear the waterfall, and some birds.

Then it was time to move on to Bald Rock – the largest granite dome in the Southern Hemisphere.  There were two ways to get to the summit: actually scrambling up the rock face (like Mum and Dad and I tried with the Pyramid) or taking Bungoona Walk, a track that gradually rose to the eastern side of the rock.  I chose to talk the easy route up, and then go down the rock face.

Some landscapes, because I know you’ve been missing them:

As I slowly went higher, I could hear what sounded like a bellbird of some sort:

I heard the Kookaburras before I saw this one.  It’s not quite in focus, but you can see it’s got another bird in its beak – it looks like a yellow robin.  It’s easy to forget that kookaburras are purely carnivorous.

You don’t see much of this Silvereye, but its little head darts into view now and then.

It was right next to the path, and I didn’t even notice until I’d walked right past it, then turned around in search of birds.  We had a tense stand-off for a few moments (during which I took a picture), before it decided I was alright and went back to eating.

A little further than halfway, the path twisted and turned through these huge granite arches:

It was a bit intimidating walking through them – it’s not exactly a fear, more like an awareness that everything around you is much older, bigger and heavier than you.

This made my stomach feel a little funny – it’s flat, and broad, and the wind is gentle, but I couldn’t help but be aware that if I fell, I wouldn’t stop falling for quite a while.

Heard this on the way to the summit.  I’m not sure if it’s a lizard or a frog (and a surreptitious poke around in the bush didn’t shed any light).

The summit at last!

I took lots of pictures of the view.  Can you spot where a fire is going?

Now it was time to descend via the rock face walk.

I think having a backpack helped – it put a bit of weight behind me so I wasn’t leaning forward down the slope.

My legs were killing me by the end, though.  They weren’t exactly painful, but my calves and thighs were trembling and felt watery, so I decided I’d make judicious use of cruise control on the way back.

There seemed to be more ferns along this path, though maybe it just seemed like more after all that bare rock.

In the car park, I spotted another White-browed Scrubwren – they seem to be very common.

It starting to get dark, at this point, so I headed back to Turtle Shell.  In fact, the sun set while I was driving back.

I ate a quick dinner, then had a nice hot shower and started packing up what I could.  Tomorrow I set off for Lismore!