Day Two: Undara Experience

PWW Note: This is Day Two of the Epic Capricorn Coast Road Trip. Click on these links to go to the Intro and Day One.




When I was in my early 20s, I remember becoming acutely aware of moments when I found myself in the midst of an event--be it big or small--that before, was a mere figment of my imagination. To me, it felt like the end of a thought's journey, when a concept becomes tangible; the physical manifestation of a desire. I'll go ahead and say it's the Law of Attraction demonstrated. Day two of our trip certainly falls under this category.

During the first few weeks when we moved to Cairns, Mrs. PWW and I rented a car to go for a drive and see the local sights. At the rental office was a wall of brochures for tourist spots, advertising local destinations for tourists to visit. One of the brochures that caught my attention was for "Australia's Accessible Outback". The wife saw it and said she's been there (she's been everywhere) and that we should go one day.

That "one day" has now come, and we were driving to Undara Experience. (I just found out that "Undara" is an aboriginal word meaning "a long way." Very apt.)

ON THE ROAD WITH UNSCHEDULED STOPS

Paronella Park was the farthest I've driven south since moving to Far North Queensland, so the rest of the drive from here is uncharted territory for me. With over 200 kilometres to drive to get to Undara, we stopped by a random roadside on the Atherton Tablelands, right beside vast tea fields, to make a phone call. Reception was starting to get intermittent, and to drive the distance only to find out that we have no spot to pitch a tent would be annoying, to put it mildly. The travel gods have looked upon our spontaneous itinerary with favour, and we were able to reserve one campsite out of the final two left.

We were going to Undara. Things have come full circle since that fateful day of searching through travel advertisements.

Westward we drove along quiet, almost deserted country roads. We felt like the only travellers in such a massive expanse of land where the only eyes that stared at you belong to livestock. Entertainment came mostly in the form of music playing in the car stereo, from old bands of my youth like Gin Blossoms, Toad the Wet Sprocket, and Blind Melon. The missus was taking snapshots when towering structures suddenly broke through the horizon.

It was a wind farm.

Windy Hill. The first of many unscheduled stops.

Back in 2008 (I guess), Mrs. PWW and I tried to get to the wind farm in Bangui, Ilocos Norte, during a trip we took with her folks to Vigan. Unfortunately, a spanner was thrown in the works of our carefully planned schedule thanks to a broken radiator hose. We didn't make it Bangui, but managed to get to the airport in time for our flight. As we stood in front of the gargantuan turbines in Windy Hill, I could only imagine the ones in Ilocos Norte to be as breathtaking.

I stepped out of the car and because I experienced a failure in observing the obvious, the car door almost slammed me back inside because I did not expect it to be windy, having been ensconced in a fully enclosed sedan. Crushed bones averted, we ran through the chilly blast of wind and frolicked (the best word to describe what we did) in the grass, taking photos of the farm. We were on the road and this was the first of what we imagine would be plenty of interesting, unplanned pitstops. And speaking of pitstops, we needed one soon, to sate our empty bellies.

Quite literally, we drove past the small town of Mount Garnet. We were moving slowly along its main street, looking for a place to eat when we suddenly realised we ran out of main street to drive on. Blink and you'd miss it. I chucked a u-ey (made a U-turn) and stopped in front of a small bakery. Little did I know that the bakery would change my mind in such a spectacular fashion.

Vibrant. The Shire Hall at Mount Garnet.

It was here that I had my first taste of apple turnover with fresh cream. I've read about it in books, I've seen it on movies and TV shows, but never have I truly understood the magic that is an apple turnover with fresh cream (always with fresh cream) until I was licking the powdery white sugar from my fingers, trying to chase the taste of heaven long after it has gone down my gullet.

A few times my wife has told me that I may have been an Australian during a previous life, as I assimilated with the culture so effortlessly. She said this after I ordered an iced coffee, a meat pie, and an apple turnover with fresh cream for lunch which apparently, is very Aussie. But thing is, had there been a karinderya beside the bakery that served tinola or KBL (kadyos, baboy, langka) it would've been a different story.

UNDARA EXPERIENCE

Thanks to our second-hand navigation system, we arrived at Undara Experience to "check in" to our campsite a couple of hours after lunch. The area was dry but far from desolate; with hundreds of families packing the caravan park, it was actually bordering on festive.

We had been looking forward to taking our bikes off the rack and riding some tracks so soon after setting up camp, we searched for tracks in the area. Below is an excerpt taken straight from my personal journal, the entry written while I was warmly huddled inside our tent after a camp-cooked dinner.

Let's rock'n roll! Our camp site at Undara.

7:25 PM: What a fantastic afternoon! After arriving at Undara Experience, we set up camp on site 518, with the ground so hard, our tent pegs buckled. Nonetheless, the area looks incredible, and soon after pitching the tent, we took our bikes from the rack and asked the staff for tracks.

There were a couple of walking tracks we could go to. (The rest were still flooded from the January floods) The first was named "Bush Walk" and to be honest, I was unimpressed at the start, as there were steps leading up towards the bush. Steps! Upward! Not very amenable to a bike. However, after a few hundred metres, things started to get interesting. The steps disappeared and slowly was replaced with gravel and rocks, bordered by tall grass. Then suddenly, singletracks! I was in heaven. The track led us to rocky outcrops and dry bushland, although my favourite part, the area I found most beautiful, was ironically a display of devastation. We rode through an area which appeared to have been recently destroyed by a bush fire. Black soot and ash was everywhere, turning the vast field ahead into a palette of greys and browns. Despite the utter destruction brought about by the fire, the cycle of life continues, and the resilience of nature sprouted in random spots of green shrubs and grass. The trees burnt black from their roots showed life at its branches, with leaves falling prey to winter, but showing promise to bloom in spring. It was a mind-blowing view.

Our ride this afternoon was just over 10 kilometres. That is a mere fraction of the distances I used to ride. However, that ride was one of the most enjoyable I've had in a very long time.

Even Cherie was giddy with excitement, saying "I never knew mountain-biking could be so much fun!" Compared to the rides we used to take in the metro back in the Philippines, I completely understood. I mean, it's not everyday you can go cycling and need to stop because a kangaroo is in the middle of the track, right in front of you.

Mrs. PWW discovers the joy of singletracks

Again, one of the best rides in a very long time.

OUTDOOR EDUCATION

Some time after 8 PM, we attended an evening activity at Undara, a talk on astronomy. We arrived late, seeing only the final slide of the presentation, but just in time to go for a walk to look at the stars. Our group was led to an open area where we could lay down on a big rock surface to stare into space. The speaker was talking about stars and constellations, and the first thing I thought about was "Okay, how's he going to tell us exactly which star or constellation he's talking about?" With approximately 6000 stars visible to the naked eye, it's always a challenge to ensure that you're all looking at the same one.

The speaker continued to talk about constellations and told us to look at "this star right here." Suddenly, a bright green laser beam appeared, seeming to connect his hand to a specific star. My jaw dropped. I've never seen anything like it before, and as an outdoor educator (yes, I still consider myself one) I found this to be an astonishing tool which practically turned the night sky into a giant blackboard. I imagine it would make for an awesome night activity during a camping trip, especially for kids. I'm definitely going to brush up on my astronomy and do this when I go back to teaching outdoors.

Something to look forward to. I wished on a falling star for it.