by Greg
Introduction (I’m back, a psychological insight, and spiders holding back Australian tourism!)
Regular readers will know that I have recently returned from a holiday. I went to the UK, with a side trip to Budapest. The whole trip was great.
Whilst away I checked and approved comments submitted to the website, but didn’t write any new posts. That worked fine, my spirits were high and I was busy every day. I also kept a bit of a journal of the trip so I was getting a writing fix most days.
However, as I start writing this post I have been back five days, and over the last couple of days I have been REALLY missing Trenna. I think in part this is due to the fact that I came home with a chest infection so I haven’t been quite myself, and I’ve been isolating myself. As I’ve noticed in the past when I’m not well, which thankfully is rarely, that is the time that I really miss her. Perhaps it is just that I have no one to complain to!
However there is another possible explanation as to why I am missing her so much right now. I haven’t been doing any of the website. I’ve previously speculated HERE that I think writing stories about Trenna does help me feel like she is still very close. I find that a bit weird, and I’m not sure what it means for the future, but for the time being, I’m happy to play along.
and that, and not my mental health or tourism is the topic of today’s post
Anyway, getting back to my trip to the UK. From my experience talking to people there it seems that spiders are a big part of Australia’s image abroad. A number of times people told me they were concerned about coming to Australia because of spiders.
Spiders! I found this a bit odd as of all the things that can hurt you, and, admittedly, Australia does have plenty, spiders is one I very rarely think of. Sharks, snakes, car accidents, heart attacks, e-scooters, conservative governments all come to mind as dangerous things. But pretty well never, spiders.
As you would expect, people also mentioned kangaroos to me, not in the context of dangerous things, just as something that interests them. Well, as luck would have it, Trenna and I do have a couple of kangaroo stories, and that, and not my mental health or tourism is the topic of today’s post.
A Camping Trip
In November of 1992 Trenna and I set off for a camping trip to the South West of the state. On the first night we camped in the Emu Point Caravan Park in Albany and got soaked in torrential rain. We left everything to dry out and had a very pleasant visit and lunch at “Whale World”. An attraction that is quite a bit better than its name suggests.
Albany is quite notorious for cold , wet weather so we then headed inland. I was particularly keen to visit the Stirling Ranges which I had visited many years earlier and had loved.
One thing that I remember about this trip with Trenna was that we went to Bluff Knoll, the highest peak in the area. It gets mentioned in the news pretty well every year as it is one of the very few places you have any chance of seeing snow in Western Australia. And even if it does fall there, it quickly melts in our relatively warm winter weather.
It was spring when we pulled up at Bluff Knoll and Trenna surprised me by suggesting that we climb it together. When I had previously been there with my Dad, probably 20 years earlier, we had started the climb but it was quite hard going and probably neither of us were in good shape. Dad and I turned back before very long.
I had told Trenna this story and I am thinking now that she probably thought it was some unrequited dream for me to summit this great mountain.
Here I should probably fess up that Bluff Knoll isn’t all that big (just 1,099 metres) and it isn’t all that mountainous. Although it needs to be respected, in fine weather you really don’t need any special equipment or clothing. As Wikipedia says “The Bluff Knoll trail is a round trip of about 6 kilometres (4 mi) taking three to four hours, and has a Grade 4 rating of climbing difficulty, with some steep and rough steps.” In short no Sherpas or ropes required.
But it is no doddle either and Trenna and I were very pleased and proud when we reached the top, and relieved and tired when we reached the bottom.
Camp Site
The Stirling Ranges area was a mixed bag. There were areas of absolutely stunning forest and bushland. However, in another area when we reached a caravan park we were horrified at the ecological devastation of the area. Silver carcasses of dead trees stood where beautiful eucalypts once stood. The soil was grey and lifeless.
The area had suffered terribly by forest clearing, mining and the resultant salinity. It was heart-breaking to see. We sat in the car at the entrance to the park, stunned, looking at the moonscape and we both said “we’re not staying here”. We headed off without a Plan B.
Disappointed and sad we headed back, and down the main road. Before long Trenna, who had bad eyesight but great observational skills yelled out “campsite! Down there!”
Sure enough, there was a narrow, gravel track leading into the bush on the left hand side of the road with a small wooden sign that said “campsite”. After a couple of kilometres the track widened to a well shaded, cleared camping area with maybe half a dozen campsites.
Like many Western Australian bush campsites managed by the Department of Parks and Wildlife in those days each site had a campfire area defined by some concrete blocks, a wooden picnic bench and a sign to say that a fee would be charged and we should pay the Ranger when they come by. Again, like many sites, there was no toilet and no running water. This was no problem for Trenna and I.
Majestic forest encircled the whole area and you could hear birds and insects everywhere. This was much more like what we were looking for. It really was idyllic.
We pitched the tent and set up camp as far away as possible from another small group of campers. Wood was gathered from the nearby bush and before long we had a fire going and were preparing dinner.
People who have camped a lot in the Australian bush will know that when you start cooking it isn’t uncommon for a kookaburra to come along to see if there is anything they can steal off the barbecue. So it was no surprise when a short while later a kookaburra swooped in and landed on a post a few metres away. What was a surprise was that in it’s bill there was a snake at least a metre in length. Now this was the bush setting we were looking for.
What’s That Noise?
That night, at who knows what hour, Trenna woke me.
“What’s that noise?” she whispered.
“What noise?” Then I heard it. A sort of dull thudding noise.
Then we heard it again, and then again. At irregular intervals and clearly quite close to the back of our tent.
“I have no idea”.
“Well go and have a look” she said.
“Why me?” it was quite cold, though I already knew the answer.
“Because I haven’t got my contacts in.” It was true, without her contact lenses in Trenna would have no chance of seeing anything. The thudding continued whilst we had this brief but futile exchange, I knew I was going out into the cold and into unknown danger. Who was to say there wasn’t a psychotic murderer nearby trying to lure me outside?
I pulled on my duds, grabbed a torch and tentatively unzipped the tent. The sky was ablaze with thousands of stars you would never see in the city. “Thud!” “Thud!”
There must have been a full moon because as soon as I stood up and looked over the top of the tent I could clearly see what the noise was.
Boxing
Just a couple of meters behind the tent two large kangaroos were facing off with each other. One would hop closer to the other and have a bit of a swipe with its front paws, and then try to put in a bit of a kick. The other would try to bounce out of the way and then come in with its own version of a one, two.
I watched for a couple of minutes, then “What is it?” came a loud whisper from inside the tent. I’d forgotten to give Tren an update.
“Um, it’s a couple of ‘roos sparing with each other”.
“Oh. Like fighting?”
“Yeah”.
At about this time the slightly smaller one rocked right back on its thick tail, then used it to propel it towards the other hitting it with full force with both its powerful legs. The roo that was hit was thrown several metres head over heels backwards.
It regained it’s composure, shook its little head and with a couple of bounces was on top of the other ‘roo. They both fell but quickly regained their feet and started the sparing again. I watched the lean back on the tail and hit with both hind feet manoeuvre a couple more times. These kangaroos were not happy with each other.
Occasionally one or the other when hit would stagger closer to our tent but would then quickly return to the fray. About this time I started to worry what would happen if one of them was kicked over towards me.
I really didn’t want to get involved in this so I climbed back into the tent to the sound of still more thuds. I gave Tren a verbal report on the action, leaving out how close they were to the tent and before long we were both asleep. In these days of mobile phones and digital cameras I probably would have videoed it and posted it somewhere. But these were analogue days and that really wasn’t possible.
Morning Mourning
The dawn broke to a cacophony of bird sounds, and even louder insect noises. We eventually got out of the tent to cook bacon and eggs for breakfast.
And then, just behind our tent was an enormous kangaroo, on its side, dead.
“I thought they were just wrestling. You know, like boys always wrestle with each other! I thought they were having fun!” Trenna exclaimed. She was clearly upset to see such a magnificent animal lying dead. “Well, I didn’t know that would happen” I said.
“Well what do we do with it?”
“I dunno.”
The problem was resolved a short while later when the ranger came by on his rounds. Tren, me, the ranger and the other people in the camping area all formed a circle and looked at the poor thing. I regaled everyone with my first hand account of what had happened.
The ranger explained that in all likelihood I had seen a young adult male ‘roo challenging the dominant head of the troop. Often the loser will give up the fight and leave the mob to live a more solitary life. But sometimes it is a fight to the death.
The ranger said that in 20 years doing the job he had seen plenty of evidence of these events, but he had never seen the actual fight. This tickled my inner David Attenborough, and lifted my credibility with the the other campers.
The other lifting involved getting a quite heavy animal into the back of the ranger’s ute. But with 3 or 4 of us it wasn’t too much of a problem.
Even though it is now more than 30 years later, I can still very clearly remember that lethal fight in the beautiful camping ground under the magnificent starry sky.
A Nice Kangaroo Story
Whilst our experience in the story above was pretty unique, this next tale explains how until recently almost anyone in Perth could have an up close and personal experience with a ‘roo.
On 1 June 2014, the first day of winter Trenna and I decided to visit John Forrest National Park. We hadn’t been there for ages, and for some reason entry to the park was free on this day (usually $16 a car in 2014).
Looking at Trenna’s 2014 diary I can see that we were away from home from 10:30am to 1:20pm. It says “Bushwalk at the Sir John Forrest National Park. Steep, flat, rocky walk to Glen Brook Dam. BPPV. Tailgate thé.“
To translate the last bit: Trenna had BPPV, a type of vertigo, which must have made the rocky walk really hard. And “Tailgate thé“? Thé is French* for tea. We enjoyed a mug of tea from a vacuum flask and almost certainly some Trenna made fruit cake, whilst sitting on the tailgate of our Suzuki Grand Vitara.
* Trenna’s paper based diaries are a mixture of English and French language. Lots of it is written in French as a way of practicing the language she loved.
But then, whilst we were looking for somewhere to get some lunch we saw some kangaroos. Lots of kangaroos. We didn’t know it at the time, but it turns out that the owners of the John Forrest Tavern had started leaving food for the roos and the native animals in the park had totally embraced the idea.
There were wild, but friendly ‘roos everywhere. We spent ages just watching them, taking photos and enjoying the uniqueness of these animals. It was just a really pleasant experience that both Tren and I enjoyed. And one without the nasty after shock of our experience in the bush.
I have often thought I’d go back for another pleasant dose of nature, and watch the kangaroos both big and small just hanging around looking adorable and attracting attention.
Apparently, in the years after Trenna and I were there the kangaroos at the Tavern became quite an Instagram attraction and very popular.
But, like so many good things it has come to an end. In 2022 the Tavern was closed to make way for a redevelopment and the kangaroos had to go back to foraging for their food, and they are therefore harder to find.
