Ralphs Falls 2018 Feb

Ralphs Falls, Feb 2018.


I didn’t think that the walk to Ralphs Falls was going to be particularly exciting (being a mere six minutes along a track from the carpark), or that the falls themselves would offer much, being a thin sliver down a brown cliff, but I am one of those thorough types and I like to see everything at least once for myself. I didn’t think Ralphs would be exciting at any time of year, so why not do it in summer? At least we’d had some rain last week. You never know your luck. And if we’d been certain of a big flow somewhere, I can think of much better places to be than a waterfall that has a single narrow line of water dropping into a space that you can’t see below. So, our adventure for this week would be Ralphs Falls, an attempt at Cashs (or at least a viewing of the Cashs Gorge), and then Alberton Falls.
(see http://www.natureloverswalks.com/alberton-falls/ ).

Cascade above Ralphs Falls
Off Carrie and I set. We were both struck by the extreme beauty of the forest. This, for us, outweighed anything the waterfall might or might not bring. The forest was an end in itself. Luckily I had asked Carrie to meet me nice and early, as, even at this early hour, the sun was casting shadows that were a little too bright for good photography. We enjoyed the fairy forest without photographing it. The falls were as ‘exciting’ as we expected,  but we were glad to see the view, and to make the acquaintance of this Fall.

On we continued around the circuit, wondering how long it would take. (Twenty four minutes, actually, which wasn’t a great deal of bang for the driving buck, but don’t worry, I extended it, as you will see). The route remained wonderful, with a sense of space beyond the trees that felt lovely. The forest floor was really open and clear – like a parkland – and we delighted in it. We got to a point where one could go down the steep, unknown spur to try to see the base of Cashs Falls, but we were both filled with curiosity still to discover what could be seen from above. Nine minutes’ walking  after leaving Ralphs Falls, we arrived at the Cashs Gorge viewing platform, where we learned you could see precisely nothing of the actual falls. Hm.


The situation had not been right to go down the first spur that we could have followed (and then traversed in to the base). I had left a few things at home – like suitable clothes if it got any colder, and had forgotten to charge my gps which now read at 8%, bespeaking a crash at any moment. I had had a fire on my property in the late hours of Friday and early hours of Saturday morning, with very little sleep, and was not in a good headspace. Meanwhile, Carrie was wearing sneakers rather than boots, and it looked very steep down there. And, my tripod was sticking out, and would catch on all the bushes. I needed to have a different pack which could protect it if I was going to do THAT kind of bushbashing. However, now that we could see that we couldn’t see, we were disappointed, whilst still rejecting that first route to visibility for the above reasons.


Therefore, I suggested we follow the big spur opposite around to where it might give an opportunity of approach on that side. It was a beautiful route through more surprisingly wonderful forest, and we happened upon a pad, which a handmade sign said belonged to a Rattler Range traverse. We left that though, to do what I wanted. However, my tripod kept getting stuck here, too, once we started to lose contours, so we decided to come back to Cashs on a day where the flow would justify the bash, and on which I had a suitable pack for my tripod. Just in case, it would also be nice to have a gps that wasn’t going to faint. We had no risk of getting lost – I could have drawn a contour map in the dirt had Carrie wanted one – but for knowing whether you are above or below your destination, and other fine points of detail, a gps is of comfort. We went back to the car and fed her before doing the next falls.

 

Alberton Falls 2018 Feb

Alberton Falls Feb 2018
The web remains curiously silent on the topic of Alberton Falls, and I am an incredibly curious person who likes visiting outré places. Alberton Falls yelled out its challenge to me: “Come and get me if you can.”
I suspected that this wouldn’t be a brilliant mission with respect to photography, but, well, you never know, and we did have a huge storm last night, with a cloudy, possibly rainy day forecast for today. Of course, seeing’s we were there to photograph, the sun shone brilliantly nearly the whole day. The aim with this waterfall was, more than anything else,  just to get there and to satisfy my curiosity. Any good photos would be a bonus.

Off we set. It seemed by the sound of things that Carrie was not appreciating walking through marshy button grass in summer heat. Early on she thought she heard a snake. I forged on, trying to pacify her by saying they’d bite me first. I don’t know how convincing I sounded. It seemed she was of the opinion they could bite either of us, and more likely her, as I had on gaiters. I kept pointing to where the forest began: “See, just there. Once we’re there we’ll be in lovely forest with no snakes.” And I was right. The forest was really beautiful, and we didn’t see one single snake. Now we could both start enjoying ourselves.

Once we were in the forest, we just followed the creek down. I spotted signs that someone had once walked this way, and Carrie, whose eyes were not so glued to the ground, started spotting old bits of faded, rotted tape, many of which were above my head in height, so I guess a kindly giant put them there. They were not to be relied upon, but that’s fine. I was navigating using the normal methods, but their reassurance was a friendly one.

Eventually we came to the “falls” – except that nothing much was falling today. However, just as you can tell that a building was once beautiful by inspecting its ruins, you could tell that this waterfall would be a lovely one when the water was flowing. The drop away from us was huge. We looked out from where it exited the rainforest past a whopping cliff and out, out into the way way yonder. We were both determined to have some photos for our efforts, so snapped away just because that’s what you do when you’ve arrived.
As we both enjoyed the magic rainforest, which was surprisingly open, and so beautiful that we spoke in whispers so as not to spoil the feeling of peace and serenity that prevailed, I took us on a route back to the car that maximised our time in the forest, and thus minimised our time in open land. (The crookedness of the line exists because I was using the parts of the forest with almost no undergrowth, as opposed to areas where this was not the case.) To the north, the land dropped to eternity below us. It was a gorgeous forest and a fun adventure, and we have now documented a previously web-neglected waterfall, and had the pleasure of experiencing a place that not many others have seen, one suspects.

I nearly forgot to add: it took us 23 minutes to the falls, longer on the way back, due to weaving and more map consulting than on the way there.