Go Climb A Tree

It's a great morning. The birds are chirping, the sun is shining, and the remainder of that fantastic winding road lies ahead. To think I could be stuck in some dreary office in Canberra instead of riding a bike in Western Australia. It doesn't bear thinking about.

We eventually reach Pemberton, home to the Gloucester fire-spotting tree. Rangers used to climb and sit in trees like this one to look for signs of bushfire. Now it's open to the thrill seeking public. Dozens of two foot metal rods have been driven into the trunk like pins into a pincushion. You climb the rods to a platform 61 metres above the forest floor. I have grave concerns about climbing the tree. I'm not afraid of heights but physical exercise scares the bajeezus out of me.

But I want to see the view from the top so I start climbing. With Dave right behind me shouting encouraging words such as "hurry up" and "we don't have all day", I eventually reach the topmost platform. The view is great so I soak the scenery in while listening to the drum solo that my heart is performing. Looking down it doesn't seem all that high. My tolerance for heights is probably better than most people.

I thought that would be enough but Dave hears about an even taller tree and he wants to climb that as well. The Bicentennial Tree reaches 71 metres above the forest floor and it's only a short detour. When we reach the tree it's obviously a harder climb; there's a resting platform halfway up and the rods are spaced less evenly. I consider making the ascent but my heart threatens to go on strike so I sit this one out.

We continue along the coast until we reach the southwestern tip of Australia at Cape Leeuwin. There is another lighthouse here - honestly it looks the same as the last one - but this one is special because it marks the point where the Indian and Southern oceans meet. The lighthouse is locked tight and it's not very interesting from the outside. The sea is putting on a decent show instead with huge waves crashing onto the rocks.

We're heading towards Margaret River to make camp when we spot a sign for the Jewel Caves. The last guided tour for the day begins in 10 minutes; the timing couldn't have been better. Dave has been spelunking before but I have no idea what to expect.

The descent into the cave is easy. The owners have blasted an entrance and installed stairs and lights. After climbing down approximately one million stairs I finally see the cave in all its glory. The sight is jaw dropping. The ceiling of the cave is completely covered in stalactite crystals. Gigantic tree roots emerge from the ceiling, curl down through the void, and then disappear into the floor. Bulbous crystals cover the walls and there are sheets of crystal like stained windows between surfaces. The crystals are in a natural state so they don't refract light into rainbows like polished stone. However the crystals do glow from within when light shines from behind. It's an alien world.

After an exhausting climb out of the cave - I thought the Gloucester tree was bad - it's getting late so we dash into Margaret River and erect the tents. It's going to rain again; I swear we are cursed.