On an overcast October morning, I set out on a short adventure to revisit the Porongurup Range. As a resident of Perth’s southern suburbs, I’d normally take the Albany Highway to make it a 4 hour journey, but on this occasion I hit the Kwinana Freeway to detour through Busselton. My mate had recently relocated to the south-west and he had his drone ready to take in some of the hiking highlights. A scenic drive through the Ferguson Valley to Mount Barker would take a little longer but present us with an opportunity to enjoy the late spring greenery on some of WA’s less travelled roads.
In the early afternoon we reached our Porongurup accommodation at the historic location of Karribank and checked into our cottage. The room was tidy, comfortable and came with an impressive view of the rolling hills that surround this recently renovated retreat. The Karribank Tavern was bustling with late lunchers, and we skipped the beers but grabbed a pizza-to-go so that we could get straight into our first hike.
After a five-minute drive we entered the Porongurup National Park, pepperoni slices in hand. The carpark offered two pathways. The first was the Nancy Peak circuit, which I had completed with my kids earlier in the year on a very wet and wintry day. On that occasion, visibility was limited until we reached the summit of Devil’s Slide and our prayers were answered – the clouds parted, giving way to an incredible view of surrounding farmland and the distant Stirling Range.
This time the skies were clear but we only had a few hours until sunset, so we were keen to take the second trail which led directly to Devil’s Slide. This one is a Class 5 hike which requires a little bit of scrambling and a decent dose of fitness. I usually travel with minimal gear aside from the essential snack supplies. With cameras and drone on board for this ascent, I realised caution would be required to make sure the gear (and ourselves) safely traversed the trail so that we could get the winning drone shots with the last light of the day.
Apart from one gentleman in the carpark, we didn’t see a soul. To be fair, Devil’s Slide is a bit more of a challenge than local hero Castle Rock with its must-see granite skywalk. Even so, I’m regularly surprised by how few people there are enjoying this corner of the world, whether it be the Porongurup trails or the Stirling Range National Park. I’ll take it though – an uncrowded hike with quality views is medicine for the soul!
In the rainy season, the track to the summit can become a small running river. Being October, the trail was damp but not flowing - still wet enough to make my mate glad that he had undertaken a last-minute swap of Vans sneakers for some sturdy boots.
Just over an hour of climbing took us to the 670m summit. We were greeted by an icy blast of wind but a stunning view over the patchwork of farms below. In the distance the rugged outline of the Stirlings beckoned, with the faint blues of the ocean on the opposite horizon.
The stiff breeze required an adjustment of our drone strategy, so we dropped back to a sheltered outlook from which we could launch our flying camera into the valley between Devil’s Slide and Castle Rock.
I typically dislike the hum of someone else’s drone when I’m out and about, but knowing we were capturing incredible views (with no one nearby to irritate) brought a bonus sense of satisfaction to the pleasure of the hike. After a few sketchy flights in the wind, we completed the aerial mission and headed back down the hill. The effects of the pizza were wearing off, and we were ready to get back to Karribank for a pint and a hot meal.
Back at our lodging, we sampled a few of the on-tap offerings, including the local lager ‘Karribank Crisp’. My mate ordered the Drunken Beef Brisket and I had the Korma Chicken Curry. Both were on point and went down well in the elegant setting. Karribank is over one hundred years old, and recent renovations have added a fresh feeling while honouring the historic aesthetic of the venue.
The only thing left to do for the night was to catch a glimpse of the starry skies, untainted by the city lights and creating that sense of being wonderfully small in a big universe. That, and find a strategy to deal with my roommate’s snoring.
After a day of forests, mountains, and stars, I was reminded of the old song:
The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands. Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they reveal knowledge. They have no speech, they use no words; no sound is heard from them. Yet their voice goes out into all the earth, their words to the ends of the world (Psalm 19).
Cheers to the Great Southern - I’ll be back!
