The Conondale Range Great Walk in southern Queensland is a roughly 60 km loop through the Conondale Range behind the Sunshine Coast, west of Maleny and Kenilworth, and is designed to take four days. I felt the daily distances looked rather short but I decided to give it a try as prescribed rather than rushing through. I booked to camp my first night close to the start line which gave me a leisurely 1.1 kms walk from my car; I couldn’t drive to the campsite because of a flooded creek crossing.
So I enjoyed a campsite on Booloumba Creek with a flush toilet and water taps. There were bush turkeys strutting around and occasionally running, which is a funny sight. I’m back to the land of darkness by 5pm. I slept extremely well, possibly because I no longer had the uncertainty of whether or not I would be able to get across the border into Queensland.
22 July 13.3 kms. I was woken by the turkeys making their strange ga-llum blab noises as they took a good old stroll through the campground. While I was packing up one of them grabbed my bag of jumbo croissants and made off with it, but I gave chase and got them back.
I had breakfast by the creek nearby and started the hike. The weather was really overcast. I was straight into rainforest, huge buttressed figs and hanging vines plus tall slender palms and yellow beech. The path was easy to follow. The first highlight was Artists Falls, three skinny cascades over a rock into a black pool.
The trail became steeper after this and I came to Booloumba Falls. This was an amazing area of waterfalls in all directions running over granite, interspersed with flowing creeks and pools, and interesting rock formations. I sat here for a long while and made a cup of coffee.
Two more kms and I was at my day's destination, Wongai campsite, very early. It was a tranquil spot in the forest. I chilled all afternoon listening to podcasts and had a chat with a walker who suddenly appeared, but otherwise I was alone. I was surprised how cold it was, this being Queensland.
23 July 17 kms. It started raining soon after I went to bed and rained on and off all night. I packed quickly in the rain in the morning and thought I would walk for a bit until the rain stopped before having breakfast. It showed no sign of stopping so after 4 kms I sat on a log by the path and had coffee and a breakfast bar. It was only light rain and sounded worse than it was because of the trees dripping noisily. It seemed totally appropriate for it to be wet in the rainforest.
Very soon after my break the rain stopped and I couldn’t be sure if it started again since everything sounded wet and I was constantly being dripped on. When the rain had stopped the birds started chirping. The trail varied between narrow footpath and fire trails and undulated the whole time, with a long climb over Mt Gerald. I crossed many dry creeks filled with logs and debris. All the forest was a dazzling bright green.
The last section to Tallowwood campsite was on a lovely narrow trail above a gully filled with palms. There was such dense foliage, tall eucalypts and ferns, that it felt like it was getting dark at midday.
Again I got to camp really early; I decided to stop just in case the weather might improve the next day. The campsite was very wet (and unattended) but there was a little hut with a seat inside, a door that could be propped open and no obnoxious smell where I could escape the dripping trees.
Interesting to compare how each state's national park operators decide what infrastructure to build to provide a roof with guttering to collect rainwater to fill the water tanks for hikers. In South Australia on the Heysen Trail they have the smallest possible roof with a short gutter so the resulting shelter is so tiny it is of no practical use; in NSW on the Great North Walk the shelters are equally tiny and used to store firewood; in Victoria on the Great South West Walk the shelters are bigger and have a picnic table; in Western Australia on the Bibbulmun the shelter is even bigger and has a sleeping platform; in Tasmania there’s a whole hut with bunks; in Queensland there’s guttering above the spacious dunny and no other shelter. Which is just fine if you are alone on a wet day.
24 July 30.5 kms. It rained most of the night and things didn’t look hopeful in the morning. I walked to Peter's Falls, a thin trickle which was hard to see from the trail, and continued in the forest, bright green as usual, going through another valley of palms. The path undulated constantly, crossing many creeks, some with water and some dry. Then the rain stopped and everything went quiet (apart from the birds) and soon it seemed like there was a patch of blue sky and the sun might be coming out.
After a while I could see pools of water far below and with a big descent I came to Summer Falls and the campsite where I had intended to stay, but it was only 11am so I wasn’t stopping yet. Summer Falls was only a light trickle, it being winter I guess, but in a spectacular setting. The falls cascaded over a granite cliff and directly across the valley was an enormous granite sheer rock face; in between were pools and slabs of rock. There was probably a way to hike down to the bottom but I thought it might be slippery.
I sat here to have an early lunch and to dry out my tent fly. But soon the sun went in and it looked like the rain was coming back. So I packed up and got going.
I walked in wet schlerophyll forest to the top of Mt Allen, and through gaps in the trees I got glimpses of high forested mountains all around. The fire tower on top of the mountain was apparently closed due to structural damage but the chain blocking access to the stairs was broken so I went up anyway, to be able to see the surrounding mountains more clearly. As I came down the mountain I inadvertently turned back the way I had come but fortunately I soon came to a junction that looked far too familiar and I was able to get back on track.
From here I had a long descent to finish the hike. I had not appreciated how much I must have climbed on the first day. I had done 2300 metres of ascent in total. I zigzagged down to the picnic area where I had breakfast on the first day, then went past where I had camped and said hello to a turkey there, and returned to my car. On the entire hike, three days, I had seen only one person.