Mossman Gorge 30.04.05

[shapeofthings]

Boyd's forest dragon, Mossman Gorge National Park

After leaving the orchid gardens, Alex and I drove back to Mossman for a leasurely lunch. After chilling in a local cafe we headed out towards Mossman Gorge in the still-drizzling rain. I'd heard lots of good things about the gorge and was keen to get there. Lots and lots of tourists, most with way better cameras than mine, but most were staying pretty close to the car park and the water. This poor little lizard was attracting lotsa of attention as each new photographer stopped to check what the previous one was shooting at. He held is pose politley, but did look rather unhappy about all the fuss.

The gorge itself was quite pretty, though the overcast skies, reflected light and heavy contrast of the rainforest made it very hard to get good pictures. I tried my best though, balancing on rocks and leaning over the very cold, deep, swirling water. You can swim at the gorge, though given it had been raining, meaning the flow was up and it wasn't exactly warm, it didn't seem advisable, so we kept walking.

It's a proper wet rainforest at Mossman, mossy, thick and dripping. The rushing water keeps the humidity high in the thick, still air between the crowding trees. There is moss everwhere, hanging of branches in lush green beards, carpeting rocks and climbing fallen logs. Everything is green on green, even the water reflecting a greeneyed hue.

The track leads to an old swing bridge, built by army engineers many moons ago (maximum 20 people on the bridge at one time, the sigh proclaims). Hanging over the gorge, watching the water suck and swirl beneath. The tropics are full of unfamiliar sights and smells, a wealth of wonderment and damp discovery. At the end of the bridge the track was blocked, a large, wired gate proclaiming "danger, no entry" to the loop of track beyond. My parents walked this very track 2 years ago, and my colleagues trod it only last year - I knew there was no major difficulty ahead, and the gate itself provided no more challenge than a play-ground jungle-gym for two adverturers with little fear of heights.

Around we swung, to find ourselves on a stretch of under-repair trail, not a soul in sight. Just the two of us, we set off in excited anticipation of life and rushing water. The track winds close to the water and we turned off, scrambling and hopping over slippery granite boulders to the water's edge. Water straight from a rainforest stream always tastes best, earthy and crisp, edged with the tannin of fallen leaves. Contentment!

We need to get out of the city more often.