Have you seen the Cape to Cape in Spring? Four reasons that keep us coming back

Every year, when I find myself once again on Cape to Cape I like to stand above the Wilyabrup Cliffs and watch the Indian Ocean throw itself at the coast with a force that makes me feel small and full of awe.
The Cape to Cape has come to mean a lot to me and to all of the people who have walked along its rugged and wild stretches. Everyone has different reasons for returning to wild places.

Here are four more reasons why you might also want to keep coming back to the spectacular Cape to Cape track

1. The Cape to Cape is wild

The Cape to Cape Track runs for 125 kilometres between Cape Naturaliste and Cape Leeuwin, and for most of that distance the Indian Ocean is right there beside you. Crashing against granite headlands, carving out blowholes in the limestone.

And yet for all this wilderness and ruggedness, you're never more than a short drive from Margaret River; from an espresso, a gourmet, cellar door lunch, a hot shower in world-class accommodation.

One moment you're walking through 40 - 60 foot Karri trees in the Boranup Forest with the tall canopies swaying above to the squeals of black cockatoos; the next you're on an exposed headland with nothing between you and the horizon.

It’s rugged; it’s wild and the fact that it sits so close to one of Australia’s most popular tourist destinations makes it feel more remarkable.

Walking towards the Boranup Forest from Contos Campground

2. The wildflowers are abundant

There are sections of the Cape to Cape in the middle of Djilba (August and September) where the wildflowers are so dense all you can see is colour, exuberant and loud, calling out for your attention. There are long corridors lined with bright yellow Acacias, pink Pimelias and blue Scaevola. Further along the native Rose bushes and coastal Boronia line the paths.
Kangaroo paws stands up red and green against the grey-green scrub. Banksia flower spikes glow gold in the late afternoon light, hovea adds patches of deep purple through the forest, and if you slow down and look properly, cowslip and spider orchids are tucked low under lower bushes and leaf litter.

And as the season moves into Kambarang (October and November) the trigger plants start blooming and the grass trees spikes and poppies turn white.
It’s magic. Pure floral magic.

Spider Orchids near Moses Rock

Pimilea sp.

3. The Artist Open Studios inspire us

There's a reason this part of the world turns creative in spring, and it isn't just the wildflowers, though I don't think it's a coincidence either.

Every September, Margaret River Region Open Studios opens the doors of around 150 local artists' studios across the region, painters, potters, sculptors, jewellers, furniture makers, and lets you step directly into their creative spaces.
What a privilege to be able to step into the intimate space where artists create and bring new things into the world.

Ian Dowling’s studio is a regular on our visits.

Rebecca Cool - always a inpiring

4. Walking out doors makes us well … and feel good

Walking towards Gracetown from Moses Rock

Within minutes of being outdoors, walking, breathing ocean air, exhausting your legs, moving through the wildflowers, you can literally feel your nervous system settle.

You start to feel connected, supported, and more alive.
It feels good to spend time in nature and it makes us well.

There are many other reasons, the views are magnificent, the birds are plentiful, the beaches are pristine, the more time you spend there, the more reasons you’ll find.

Yoga at Ellenbrook Homestead

Cape to Cape - Kilcarnup Beach towards Rivermouth

Life on a Little-Known Planet... or life on a little seen and barely understood planet

I've just finished Elizabeth Kolbert's essay collection, Life on a Little-Known Planet: Dispatches from a Changing World, and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it as I get ready to scope another wilderness adventure in the Khuvsgul Lake Biosphere in remote Mongolia.

Kolbert — the Pulitzer Prize-winning author of The Sixth Extinction — has spent two decades writing about the natural world for The New Yorker.

In this book her writing between 2005 and 2023 is gathered in a collection of essays organised into four loose groups: creatures, places, the ideas people have floated for fixing what's broken, and the people already quietly doing the fixing. Each piece has also been updated on where things stand now in each of the topics.

The planet, it turns out, is "little-known" not because we lack satellite data, but because most of us have stopped looking closely at what's in front of us.

That's the line that landed hard for me as someone whose livelihood comes from leading people into wild places.

Kolbert's real subject is attention.
To have the discipline of noticing a landscape well enough to see it changing.

It's what happens on a walk through nature… if you pay attention.

You can't tell that a wildflower is blooming three weeks early, or that a creek line has shifted, unless you've walked that same country enough times to hold it in memory.

I feel this everywhere we walk.

From the Fitzgerald Biosphere and the Stirling Ranges in Australia’s southwest where thousands of flowering species bloom each year and where you have to look closely to find the tiniest of orchids, to the Altai Mountains in Mongolia, where herders read the changing landscapes and move their herds accordingly.

These landscapes are living records of change, you just have to be present enough, and return often enough, to read them.

The other thing I appreciated is that Kolbert refuses to dwell in despair.

Her final section is about people already at work, restoring habitat, redesigning cities, rethinking agriculture.

Showing engagement is still possible, still worthwhile, still underway.
That's the spirit I try to bring to every retreat and walking adventure: walking isn't an escape from the changing world, it's a way of meeting it honestly, together, on foot, with our senses open.

If you're someone who feels most alive immersed in a forest, following a dirt path or walking towards an expansive horizon, this book will feel like proof that careful attention to a beetle, a treelike, a melting glacier, is a form of care.

I'd recommend it especially if you're new to thinking about climate and biodiversity; and even if you're not, Kolbert's observations are clear and rewards the return visit, much like nature trails do.

I also loved listening to Kolbert in this Daily Show interview.

7 Wildflowers of Tavan Bogd and their Traditional Uses

In the far northwest corner of Mongolia, where the Altai Mountains meet Russia, China, and Kazakhstan, Tavan Bogd National Park guards five glaciated peaks and a landscape of scree, tundra, larch forest, and boggy alpine meadow. Every spring and summer, as the snowmelt floods the valleys, the ground fills with flowers that herding families here have gathered for medicine and meaning for generations.

Below are some of the same species photographed on past walks through the park.

Iceland Poppy — Papaver nudicaule

Iceland Poppy — Papaver nudicaule

The park's signature bloom, its papery yellow, white, or orange petals nodding on bare stems above the scree near Potanin Glacier. In traditional Mongolian medicine it is known as a “wound healer”: combined with other herbs into the classic formula Govo jad-5, it is used on fresh wounds, torn blood vessels, and old injuries, while a mix of four poppy species is boiled and drunk for dysentery and intestinal inflammation.

Siberian Globeflower — Trollius altaicus

Siberian Globeflower - Altai Tavan Bogd National Park

Lights up wet meadows and streambanks with globes of golden-orange, closed petals that never fully open. Its Chinese relative, Trollius chinensis, has a long medicinal history for fever, sore throat, and infection, and Altai herders have traditionally regarded the globeflower in similar terms, as a plant of the wet ground linked to clearing heat from the body.

Pink Thistle — Rhaponticum uniflorum

Pink Thistle — Rhaponticum uniflorum

Its rose-purple, thistle-like flowerhead stands out against dry, stony slopes. Across Mongolia, Siberia, and China it is brewed as a water decoction and used as an anti-inflammatory tonic believed to restore vitality and strength to the body, particularly after illness or exhaustion.

Locoweed — Oxytropis sp.

Locoweed near basecamp - Tavan Bogd National Park

Carpets whole slopes in purple-blue in a good year, and is treated with real caution by herders: eaten by livestock it causes “locoism,” a debilitating neurological illness. Yet in traditional Mongolian and Tibetan medicine the same plants are prepared for pain relief, inflammation, and bleeding — a flower that is simultaneously feared and used, watched closely wherever animals graze.

Bird's-Eye Primrose — Primula nutans / Primula algida

Bird’s Eye Primrose - Primula nutans / Primula algida

Clusters of small, notched pink-magenta flowers with a bright yellow eye, held on bare stalks above wet, grassy turf near streams and bogs. Across the Primula genus, the roots and flowers are traditionally valued as a source of expectorant and diuretic remedies, thanks to their high content of phenolic glycosides and saponins — one of the reasons primroses feature widely in folk medicine across Europe and Asia. Precise Altai-specific lore for this species is thin in the record, so treat the traditional-use note as genus-level rather than confirmed local practice.

China Pink — Dianthus chinensis

China Pink — Dianthus chinensis

Scatters small, fringed pink-and-white blooms through the drier turf. Traditionally it is taken for urinary complaints and applied to skin inflammation, while its flowers are valued as an astringent and wound remedy.

False Chamomile - Tripleurospermum ambiguum

Tripleurospermum ambiguum

A wiry, white-and-gold daisy with finely dissected, fern-like leaves, rooted straight into loose scree and gravel where almost nothing else takes hold. It belongs to the same Asteraceae tribe as true chamomile, and across the wider Tripleurospermum genus, related species have long been used in traditional herbal medicine for digestive complaints, inflammation, sore throats, fever, skin conditions, and as a calming, stress-relieving tonic — the same broad territory chamomile itself is known for. Species-specific ethnobotanical records for T. ambiguum in the Altai are sparse, so this should be read as genus-level tradition rather than confirmed local practice.

Together, these flowers sketch a landscape where botany and belief sit side by side, and where very little is decorative for its own sake.

The Iceland poppy and China pink are picked for open wounds; the pink thistle is brewed as a tonic for fevers and exhaustion; the globeflower is read as a sign of clearing heat from the body. Locoweed sits at the uneasy centre of it all, at once a folk remedy for pain and bleeding and a plant every herder watches for, because the same purple-blue carpet that treats a wound can just as easily take down a horse.

Even the flowers with no settled medicine attached to them, the forget-me-nots, the primrose, the false chamomile, the alpine aster and silver speedwell, are still markers of a kind: of wet ground versus dry, of shelter versus exposure, of how far the snow has pulled back this year. None of it lasts long. The Altai's summer is short and fierce, and within a few weeks the same slopes that are ankle-deep in colour now will be bare again, grazed over or buried under the first snow.

What stays, season after season, is the knowledge: which flower to reach for, which to be wary of, and which simply tells a walker that they are, for a little while, standing in the richest part of the year

Back From the Brink: A Protection Agenda for Nature - Summary

The Conservation Council of WA (CCWA), recently launched a report: Back from the Brink. Developed collaboratively it outlines a reform agenda for environmental regulation in Western Australia.

Drawing on contributions from conservation scientists, environmental lawyers, Aboriginal leaders, and community organisations, it sets out practical changes to policy and law across four areas:
🌱 strategic decision making
🌱 environmental law and processes
🌱 monitoring, compliance, and transparency
🌱 the independence of decision-making institutions.
It presents 15 case studies illustrating where current systems have failed and what’s being done to address the damage.
DOWNLOAD A COPY HERE

Matt Roberts at the launch of the report - behind him the scope of the ecological devastation.

The report documents the depth of ecological decline in WA since colonisation.

When the state's Southwest was declared a global biodiversity hotspot in 2000, 90% of its original vegetation cover had already been removed — rising to over 93% in the Avon Botanical District alone.

Today, 16 plant species and 23 animal species are formally recorded as extinct, with a further 700 species classified as threatened, and the report cautions that thousands more are likely at risk but remain unlisted.

The Northern Jarrah Forest — among the state's most species-rich ecosystems — has undergone two mass die-off events since 2011 and is now considered at risk of full collapse by the IPCC, yet industrial mining continues within its boundaries. On the Swan Coastal Plain, four-fifths of wetlands have been degraded or lost entirely.

WA also holds the worst record in Australia for federally-approved clearing of critical habitat, with over 34,700 hectares approved for clearance in the Pilbara alone in 2025.

“So many people across our state don’t have a clue about the state of our nature” Chris Tallentire - environmental consultant and former MP.

As a signatory to the Kunming-Montreal Global Biodiversity Framework (KMGBF), Australia is committed alongside nearly 200 nations to halt and reverse nature loss by 2030.
As one of only 17 megadiverse countries on Earth, and with WA holding eight of Australia's 15 biodiversity hotspots, the state is responsible.

The Intergovernmental Science-Policy Platform on Biodiversity and Ecosystem Services (IPBES) has warned of "a closing window of opportunity to halt and reverse biodiversity loss and to prevent triggering the potentially irreversible decline and the projected collapse of key ecosystem functions."

The report argues that meeting these obligations demands a reorientation of WA Government priorities, which currently favour short-term economic returns over long-term ecological wellbeing.

Thousands of species are at risk.

Part 1 Strategic Decision Making

“You almost don’t need any more science” Professor Rachel Standish

The report calls for WA to move decisively away from fragmented, project-by-project environmental decision making.
Key recommendations include:

- the development of a state biodiversity strategy with enforceable targets aligned to the KMGBF's 30% protection goal

- a comprehensive bioregional planning framework that identifies no-go zones based on ecological and cultural values

- and a major increase in conservation funding.

Currently, the WA Government allocates just over $100 million — or 0.2% of the state budget — to environmental protection, a level the report describes as chronically insufficient given statutory obligations.

The report also calls for the meaningful integration of Aboriginal ecological knowledge across all planning and assessment processes, the permanent funding of Aboriginal Ranger Programs across crown land, and legislative reform to allow sole vesting of conservation estate to Aboriginal Corporations.

“You are country” Daniel Garlett - Cultural and Community Leader

Part 2 — Environmental Law and Processes

WA's existing environmental laws are judged to be structurally inadequate.

The Biodiversity Conservation Act 2016 has never undergone its mandated five-year review, grants excessive ministerial discretion, and lacks mandatory bioregional planning or enforceable recovery targets.

The report calls for its overhaul along with reform to the Environmental Protection Act 1986, new water legislation, and the introduction of legally defined no-go zones for critical habitat.

Recovery Plans for threatened species are also criticised as too few, too infrequent in their review cycles, and insufficiently tied to measurable outcomes.

The report calls for full-funded, enforceable plans for every threatened species, updated at least every five years, with the explicit objective of zero new extinctions.

Environmental offsets, which currently allow destruction of habitat to be offset by compensation elsewhere, are identified as a mechanism that has repeatedly enabled ongoing harm rather than preventing it.

Part 3 — Monitoring, Compliance, and Transparency

The report identifies a deep accountability gap.

The upsurge of community support is unprecedented and CCWA reports an increase in people wanting to be involved.

“There has been no State of the Environment Report for almost 18 years” Matt Roberts - CCWA Executive Director

Likewise, no publicly available Biodiversity Audit has been released in a decade.

The Auditor General's 2024–25 review confirmed that under-resourcing is preventing agencies from meeting basic statutory requirements.

The report calls for proper investment in environmental monitoring, an end to reliance on industry self-reporting, and a legally guaranteed right for communities to receive reasons for decisions that materially affect the environment.

As the Executive Summary states: "laws are only equal to our ability to enforce them."

Part 4 — Independence and Public Participation

The right institutional conditions are needed for robust decision making.

The report recommends establishing an independent Environment Court to enable merits-based judicial review of environmental decisions, ensuring the operational independence of the EPA, strengthening the powers and funding of regulatory bodies, and creating genuine, rather than tokenistic, pathways for public participation.

“We have a war on nature and we need to rally” Professor Kingsley Dixon OAM - UWA - botanist and conservations expert.

Ministerial accountability must also be reinforced through legislation that prevents the approval of projects known to cause significant environmental harm.

The report concludes that the reforms it proposes, while ambitious, are both necessary and achievable. It frames them not as optional improvements but as essential to preventing further irreversible loss. It calls on the WA Government to match the strategic energy it applies to industry and jobs with an equally serious commitment to environmental protection — recognising that, in the long run, the two are inseparable.

Source: Conservation Council of WA — ccwa.org.au

Our Walk through the Altai Mountains - Tavan Bogd National Park 2025 - photo essay

There are many elements that make walking through the Altai Mountains in northwest Mongolia a unique adventure.

The remote and untamed wilderness of the Tavan Bogd National Park, the immersion over nine days in this pristine natural environment of wildflowers, wildlife and waterfalls.

Exposure to the nomadic lifestyles of modern day Kazakh and Tuvan herders - witnessing traditional cultures present in the region since the Palaeolithic age (that’s over 15,000 years).

The mountains, white-capped peaks, giants by our sides, always impressive, and then that first glimpse of the Five Sacred Peak -Tavan Bogd - one of which is Mongolia’s highest mountain, Khuten Peak at 4,200 mts.

This photo essay describes three important components that make this adventure magic: the location, the people and the challenge.

These three elements come together every year during Edgewalkers Mongolian Walking Adventure in the Tavan Bogd National Park (TBNP) in the heart of the Altai Mountain Range.

THE ALTAI MOUNTAINS

The Altai Mountains in Central Asia expand over 1600 kms across Kazakhstan, China, Russia and Mongolia. On the Mongolian side they extend 900 km from the northwest corner (where we walk) in Bayan-Ulgii Province to the southwest, in Khovd Province.

In the background the Altai Mountains welcome us into the Tavan Bogd National Park.

You wouldn’t know it but most of these eight gorgeous individuals had only just met a few days before this picture was taken.
They all like they’ve known each other forever.

They also look super excited.

Can you blame them?

They’ve just got their first view of the snowcapped peaks of the Altai Mountains - our home for the next 9 days.

The Tavan Bogd National Park makes up over 600,000 hectares spread over the northern-western tip of Mongolia - on the borders with China on the west and Russia on the north. We access it from Ulgii, an ethnically Kazakh town with a growing economy from tourism and trade with Kazakhstan and China.

Stepping up to the challenge is part and parcel of an expedition like this… EVERYONE excelled!

The terrain changes dramatically over the nine days.

The landscape varies dramatically throughout national park.
Where our walk commences, at the junction between Khoton and Khurgen Lakes, there are larch pines clustered along the western edge of the Khoton Lake and populating the distant slopes.

There are so many streams flowing from glaciers on the mountains - they are usually no more than knee deep and we cross most of them easily - they are, however, icy!

Some wildflowers are scattered near the streams. Edelweiss, forget-me-nots, the odd white poppy.

Deeper in the mountain, there are gorges, and fast-moving rivers before commencing the ascent over high passes.

There are huge boulders and one side of the mountain is visibly dry and rocky and the opposite side lush and green with more fir woodlands. The milky white river flowing rich with the sediment of the glaciers.

Nomads access their remote camps along a network of dirt tracks.

We love the wooden bridges that allow us to cross the wider and deeper rivers. Not the white colour of the water?

However, after a certain point, camels and horses are the only way to transport food and equipment. There are many nomads whose livelihood depends on commercially raising camels.

As the altitude rises we walk over rugged and dry mountain passes. The highest is 3200 metres, dark slate covers much of the pass. On the way up the mountains the display of wildflowers is extraordinary,

Fresh fruit is a real treat - and luxury on this expedition.

Borlotro - our gorgeous cook and her assistant cook busy in action.

Can you believe these vegan moms full of protein and veggies at 3,000 mts?

I don’t know how she did it but Borlotro (our expedition cook) served us fresh fruit and veggies every day of the hike, as well as some spectacular meals that would be challenging too cook in a well-equipped kitchen!

Camping takes on a whole new meaning when your views are 5 star in front ands a million stars above!

Up and up towards the highest pass 3, 200 mt.

Oh and this lake always takes our breath away.

NOMADIC LIFE

Kazakh and Tuvan nomads make their summer homes in the heart of the Altai Mountains where they fatten their animals on the grassy valleys of the Tavan Bogd National Park.

We are so lucky to be invited every year into the homes of local nomads - these sisters are making butter. Notice the large leather receptacle next to the wooden vat? That’s where they mix the mare’s milk to make Airag - the local alcohol with very high alcohol content.

This Tuvan father and daughter are part of a family camp that we see every year - the baby is a new addition to the family. Tuvan nomads originate from the southern Russian region of Siberia. IN the are near Khovsgol Lake there are the more better known Reindeer People who are of Tavan origin, but through the Altai Mountains nomadic Tunas also prevail.

Tuvan nomads bring their animals to pasture in the park every year.

cheese drying out in the sun and fresh air.

Tuvan women milking yaks

THE CHALLENGE

Whether it’s the physical challenge of walking 15 - 20 km daily, steep ascents and descents, the altitude of 2,500 plus Mts; or the mental and emotional challenge of being out of our comfort zones, the remoteness and wilderness, or the disconnection from the rest of the world. Or the discomfort of sleeping in tents, changeable weather and unfamiliar foods, there is no question that walking through the Altai Mountains int eh Tavan Bogd National Park is a challenge for most people who join this adventure.

While the ascent is steep - getting back down can be equally challenging.

Camping beside White River - aptly named - this river flows directly from the Potanin Glacier - Mongolia’s longest.

one of the longer and more challenging days from 2600 to 3, 100 mt - but what a view to walk towards!!

Those who attempt to climb to the 4,045 mt summit of Malchin Peak truly understand the physical challenge of walking on scree.

Walking through the Altai Mountains in the TAVAN BOGD National Park in Northwest Mongolia is not for the faint-hearted. It is for the adventurous hearted, the brave-hearted, the open-hearted and the humble-hearted. It is for those that are ready to push through their limitations and step outside of comfort and familiarity to experience the wild and pristine natural beauty of remote wilderness - to experience what not many people will experience in their lives.

4 Ways Nature Helps Us Restore Our Creativity

There is a long list of benefits that come from spending time in nature.

You know it.
I know it.
We all know it.

There’s plenty of quantifiable scientific evidence demonstrating these benefits including: increased longevity, physical health, positive thoughts and reduced stress.

It makes sense that nature is also place where our creativity thrives and our capacity to focus and problem solve is restored.

According to Attention Restoration Theory, this is exactly what happens.

When we spend time concentrating, focusing on specific problems or trying to get results out of our thinking, our brains grow fatigued.

When we are mentally fatigued our cognitive ability to ideate, imagine, and think laterally, discern, choose, plan, is reduced.

This is especially true during the phase of creativity we label the incubation period.

When we are waiting for ideas to pop into the ‘aha’ realm and become suitable ideas.

In nature, or while looking at nature – even photos it seems – our attention is free to wander without the brain having to make too much effort.

We are biophilic beings.

We love nature and all things nature. That’s one reason most of us feel GOOD in nature.

But there are four elements that are present in nature, especially in wilderness and more unfamiliar natural settings that contribute to this restorative potential:

1.     Fascination – this is apparently, the most important factor. You would have experienced it.

It’s the way our brain’s focus naturally goes towards natural features that catch our attention – waterfalls, streams, wildflowers, clouds, sunsets, mountains peaks, the ocean.  
The lack of effort needed to pay attention in nature; the way our brains take it all in effortlessly, helps our brain to relax and restore its capacity to focus and problem solve.

If you listen to Radio National in Australia there was an interview today (9 Nov 25) with Professor Hannes Leroy – director of the Erasmus Centre for Leadership in Rotterdam - who talks about the ‘lost art of daydreaming’.

He studies the way the mind wanders and how that has positive impacts on creativity and problem solving.

It seems when the mind is let free to wander it can filter through the ‘unresolved’ incidents, ideas and ‘stuff’ we carry around with us.

Being in nature creates opportunities for the mind to wander freely and, if it does it long enough, it can start to find solutions, make connections and associations that may lead to complex problems being solved.

Look at these – would they capture your attention?
Would your attention wander from wildflower to wildflower feeling the effect of the aesthetic beauty?
Would they enable a lightening of the mental load carried on whatever you might have been working on until that moment?

2.     Being Away – being away from the habitual stressors, experiencing unfamiliar surroundings and different stimuli can be restorative.

We get used to a certain daily experience and when we change this, especially in nature, it can help our brain relax and reset.
We don’t spend enough time in nature, so most natural settings are unfamiliar to us.
Even looking at a pot plant, a nature video, or an image of a lake and sunset on a wall can have some effect.

Professor Leroy talked about the art of retreating.

Taking ourselves away from the centre of activity, taking a step back to reassess, in effect, taking our eyes off the ball, not paying attention to anything in particular, but letting the mind be distracted by everything in general – so it can be unfettered to reassess, reconsider, reset and restore.

Not the usual lunch spot - I wander where her thoughts are going?

3.     Extent – the scope or range of the experience affects the impact – there is going to be more awe and immersion if the experience in a multi-day walk through remote wilderness full of visual vastness and richness, or if it is a few hours in a nearby park where there are lots of trees and birds but you can still hear the traffic.
Both are useful and beneficial; both are restorative, but there is a huge reset and restorative impact of prolonged time immersed in nature where you start to feel at one with the environment.

Where there is no end in sight to the freedom to wander.

Not a single brain was left unaffected by the spectacle of this view.

4.     Compatibility – each individual has an affinity and motivation to be in nature and be impacted by it.

how much does the person want to be exposed to nature?
How much motivation do they intrinsically have to appreciate the time away?

As biophilic beings we are drawn to the natural fascinations we encounter in nature.

We ‘know’ it feels good to walk through a forest.
We ‘know’ it clears our head to go for a beach walk.
We ‘know’ taking time out is important to get perspective.

However, increasingly research is showing us that it’s this combination of 4 factors - often present when we take ourselves to pristine and natural environments - that lead to “involuntary” or “indirect attention” allowing our brains and their creative and problem solving functions, among others, to be restored.

Fan, J., B. D. McCandliss, T. Sommer, A. Raz, and M. I. Posner. 2002. Testing the efficiency and independence of attentional networks. Journal of Cognitive Neuroscience14:340–47. doi:10.1162/089892902317361886.

Kaplan, S. 1995. The restorative benefits of nature: Toward an integrative framework. Journal of Environmental Psychology 15:169–82. doi:10.1016/0272-4944(95)90001-2.

Leroy, H., Rofcanin, Y., Ogbonnaya, C., Benischke, M. H., & Fainshmidt, S. (2025). The Devil is in the Details: Zooming out in Leadership Research. Journal of Management Studies. Advance online publication. https://doi.org/10.1111/joms.70013

Staats, H. 2012. Restorative environments. In The Oxford handbook of environmental and conservation psychology, ed. S. Clayton, 445–58. New York, NY: Oxford University Press.Natural environments have been consistently found to be conducive to creative performance.

The Peaks of the Balkans - a day by day photo journey

The Peaks of the Balkans is a 190 km circular mountain trail across Albania, Montenegro and Kosovo.

Established in 2012 as part of a peace project, the trail is now a unique hiking experience that has united the post-war region through an immersive, wilderness hiking adventure through a section of the Dinaric Alps, also referred to as the ‘Accursed Mountains’. It crosses a number of national parks including the Prokletije National Park and the Valbona Valley National Park.

DAY 1 & 2 - Skhöder

View of Tuna and Drin Rivers from Rozafa Castle in Skhöder.

We transfer from Tirana to Skhöder where we we stay at the Hotel Tradita, a lo0cal household name for tradition, hospitality and delicious local food. We walk around its famous castle, the historical centre and enjoy the lively nightlife and music before we set off to the Theth.

Day 3 - Theth & Blue Eye

On the drive from Tirana to Theth the views are a great preview of what’s to come!

The ‘Blue Eye’ Waterfall - a popular watering hole near Theth where our walking adventure begins.

Depending on the traffic the drive from Tirana to Theth in a private car is about 2 hours. On the way, we’ll get panoramic glimpses of the mountains.

DAY 4 - Theth to Valbone - 18 km

The first day of walking follows a track from Theth to the valley of Valbone. This is the busiest section of the whole trail - many day walkers hike this section before catching a ferry back to Skhoder.
It starts in the beech forest above Theth and follows a mule track all the way up the edge of the mountain to the Valbone Valley.
The views of the rugged peaks are spectacular and the descent through the pine forest also a beautiful way to end the day.

walking from Theth to Valbone through the pine forest overlooking the Valbone Valley.

One of the many traditional wooden guest-houses.

This is the Albanian marker for the Peaks of the Balkans Trail.

Day 5 Valbone to Cerem

We make our way from Valbone to the more remote and traditional village of Cerem through a challenging route past the Zla Kolata Peak on the Preslopit Pass.

We are driven to the start of the trailhead where the steep ascent to the pass begins, there is a bit of a scramble up a rocky section an then through some forest and finally we arrive at the rugged, expansive pass with big views of the tall mountain peaks, including the tallest mountain Peak in Montenegro, Kla Kolata.

Almost at the pass - views of the peaks.

DAY 6 - Cerem to Doberdol

This is a stunning hike that connect two remote summer villages and as local guide Emir Cirikovic puts it’s
”… is a highlight of the Peaks of the Balkans for two reasons. First, once you gain elevation, you keep it. The hike is mostly flat with great views and meanders through enchanting old growth forests. Second, Doberdol is an absolute dream. It is the highest overnight stop on the trail and by far one of the most isolated.”
We love Doberdol and on the way we stop at an even smaller summer village where the local owner makes the most delicious cakes and coffee.

On the way to Doberdol.

Chalets at Leonard Guest-House - one of the oldest in Doberdol.

DAY 7 - Gjeravica Peak

You can choose to hang around Doberdol and have a rest day - or attempt to hike to the summit of Gjeravica Peak - the tallest peak in Kosovo.
This day has 2 steep ascents. The first is from Doberdol to the ridge where we cross over towards Kosovo. The second is to the summit - it’s a steep, rocky, craggy summit. On the way there are glacial lakes and views as far as the eye can see of this mountainous region.

DAY 8 - Doberdol to Milishevc

Lojza Guest-house - remote and serene, deep in the mountain forest.

Doberdol to Milishevc starts with a steep hike up past Tromeda Peak where the three countries’ borders meet. The views are expansive the whole way and the lush forests and frequent streams make this another day of perfect mountain hiking.

What a view - Balbino Polje seen on the walk down.

DAY 9 Milishevc to Balbino Polje

This is the shortest section on the trail and the easiest as there is very little to ascend - the descent into Balbino Polje is gorgeous. Lots of wildflowers and birds on this section.

Hrid Lake - at 2,000 metres one of the highest on the trail - beautiful any time of day.

DAY 10 - Balbino Polje to Plav

The highlight of this section - other than the great view of Plav and the lake when we descend into the town, is the beautiful sight of Hrid Lake. Hrid Lake is a glacial lake sitting at 2,000 m surrounded by dense pine forest and a couple of Montenegro’s tallest peaks.

Swimming in the lake is said to bring good luck in all areas of life, specially love and health. It’s chilly but well worth the dip.

DAY 11 - Plav to Vusanje via Grevaje Valley

Views of the peaks at the Talijanka Loop in the Grevaje Valley!

Only 14 km in total but this circular Talijanka Loop in the Grevaje Valley between Plav and Vusanje is ABSOLUTELY breathtaking.

There’s a bit of hike up to the loop through dense and old beech forest that takes you up into the valley from where we can access the trails to walk up to every peak in the Loop.

There is nowhere without a mind-blowing view - made lunch there very special.
The view from the guest house in Vusanje is stunning too - one of the best guest houses on the trail!

DAY 12 - Vusanje to Theth

This might be (might) be our favourite section. Maybe because it’s just soooooo expansive and the view so large and the rugged peaks stand above us the whole way to the final descent into Theth.
The historical element provided by the bunkers that are spotted about in this area also add to the magnitude and importance of this region.

Deep in the valley making our way back to Theth from Vusanje.

Stone buildings typical of Theth.

DAY 13 & 14 - Theth to Skhöder to Tirana

Back at the Tradita Hotel in Skhöder we celebrate together before we head off in our different directions. You will be dropped off at the airport in Tirana on the last day.

Find out more here!

3 Western Australian Artists - Women Wild About Wildflowers

Western Australia is known as The Wildflower State.

From August to November, people from all over the country - and the world - travel to our remote corner of Australia,  to experience the vibrant and colourful displays of wildflowers that transform our wild and rugged landscapes every year. 

The southwest corner of Australia, known as the Southwest Botanical Province, is one of the most florally biodiverse regions in the world. 

These three West Australian artists have all found in native blooms a source of beauty, resilience, adaptation, survival and inspiration.

It is safe to say, all biases noted, that Western Australia has some of the most diverse and inspiring flora on the planet.

From the carpets of yellow Pom Pom Everlastings (Cephalipterum drumondii) and Yellow-seeded Goodenia (Goodenia xanthosperma) that cover kilometres of the ground north of Perth; to the singularly unique WA orchids like the Queen of Sheba or the endemic variety of Hakeas, Banksias, Melaleucas found through the Kwongan landscapes, the wildflowers of WA have been these artists true muses.

Helen Ansell

Helen Ansell - in action painting Desert Blooms inspired by the Wreath Flower - Lechenaultia macrantha.

In Mullewa, about 500 km north and slightly east of Perth, Helen Ansell has found a home whose landscape and native wildflowers inspire her every day.

But it wasn’t always like that. Helen found her love for the native WA species while living overseas. Her vibrant art has evolved alongside her appreciation for the wildflowers that thrive around her.

And that’s no surprise - the wildflowers in that region of WA are jaw-droopingly beautiful.

You will find clusters of delicate spider orchids under the alarming red of Bird Beak Hakeas (Hakea orthorrhyncha) or delicate but abundant hues of yellow, purple and salmon coloured eremophila.

Spider Orchids - Caledenia sp.

Bird Beak Hakea - Hakea orthorrhyncha

But no wildflower draws more people to Mullewa, and more specifically to the nearby settlement of Pindar, than the mysterious Wreath Flower - Lechenaultia macrantha (below centre).

Lechenaultia macrantha - Wreath Flower - Pindar, WA

Lechenaultia macrantha - Wreath Flower - Pindar, WA

Lori Pensini

Recently awarded the Collie Art Prize - one of Australia’s most lucrative regional art prizes -  Lori Pensini has been inspired by the raw beauty and huge expanse of WA’s landscapes since she was a child.

Lori Pensini is a child of the Wheatbelt, she grew up near Narrogin and also spent time living in the spectacular Pilbara region of the state.

Lori refers to her art as an exploration of the ‘confluence of self and landscape’. 

Some of her most dramatic paintings are botanical portraits that stand out for their distinct bold and abstract compositions of people, wildflowers, and landscapes as one. 

Like this one:

Hakea - Hakea cucullata - by Lori Pensini

Hakea cuculatta - Stirling Range National Park.

Lori Pensini, March 2024.

Inspired by this wildflower the Hakea cuculatta,  found in abundance through the Stirling Range National Park.

On a visit to her studio in early 2023, Lori and I talked openly about the disconnection that exists between human existence and nature, and how her art redirects our gaze to images of humans as part of nature, belnding together and being the product of the natural environment. 

“ …​My art practice is an exploration of myself, my identity and placement within my family’s multifaceted history. It is illustrated directly from lived experiences on country and my responses to, and relationship with our landscape. “

Lori’s website reads:
“The botanical elements … link key positive personality traits of people with ecological characteristics of botanicals to create a distinctive 'language of flowers'... create a narrative around our cultural identity and role within our natural world.”

Today, Lori lives with her husband in Boyaup Brook, in WA’s southwest, where she works from her spacious studio. Her and her husband are involved in regenerative agriculture and adhere to principles that respect the delicate balance of human activity and agriculture.

Look out for times of the year when Lori opens up her studio, it is worth the visit.

Jude Taylor

Summer Scented Wattle - Acacia rostellifera by Jude Taylor in Jurien Bay - north of Perth

Jude grew up in North Perth and remembers a time when there were fields and horses around her. Her love for for landscapes and wildflowers was inspired by these natural surrounding and regular trips out to country.

“As a young girl growing up in WA, wildflower season was always a great joy.

Her colourful and bold linocut artwork and prints reflect how they have inspired her.

“Western Australian women can relate to them. The flowers and the female experience have a lot in common.” she says.
”Having to survive surrounded by the rather harsh (male) environment and its a hard land - having to survive and managing to hold on to the feminine quality - both dealing with a similar situation and still supporting and trying to bring great joy to every one.”

”Wildflowers are a great asset to WA - their abundance, the quality and quantity, and they beauty.”

Jude Taylor prints - bold and vibrant.

Visit her studio in the Swan Valley for a display of her beautiful linocuts.

Jude’s studio is a creative landmark in the Swan Valley and she is a regular contributor artist at the annual Ravensthorpe Wildflower Show. Look for her there from 8 - 20 September 2025.

Reflections on My Annapurna Hiking Experience - ultralight or ultra ill-equipped?

“Hey guy with hydration pack, 2 hiking sticks & North Face vest; my 5 yr old walked the same trail in Crocs carrying a naked Barbie. Relax.”
Jack Boot @IamJackBoot X 2017

My first multi-day hike was in Nepal.
It was very relaxed.

It was February.
On the spur of the moment, I decided to hike the Annapurna Trail.
I got minibuses, train, rickshaw and coach from Darjeeling to Kathmandu.

After getting a permit, I bought a map, a knock-off Mountain Hardware puffer jacket, a headtorch, and a small roll of duct tape.

In Pokhara I rented a sleeping bag.

In the taxi to the trailhead, the driver was chatty.
Heavy bag?
Not very, about 7 kilos.

You have guide?
No guide.

You have porter?
No porter.

You have raincoat?
No raincoat.

The driver smiled at me over the rear-view mirror.
He pulled up in front of a shop, got out and came back with two jumbo size black plastic bin liners.
If it rains, you cut hole. Put head here.
Thank you.
I stuffed them into my pack politely.

At the start of the trail, I bought a wooden walking stick for fifty cents.

In knee-length designer yoga pants, shiny white Asics, and extra absorbent cotton shirt; with the sleeping bag dangling under the China-made, no-name daypack, I set off to Annapurna basecamp.

Ultralight and basic, wooden staff in hand, relaxed and happy, like a hobbit.

I huffed and sweated up the rocky paths, dirt tracks and stone steps, happy with my choice to travel as light as possible.

When I hiked past people decked in Gore-tex, moisture-wicking technology and carbon fibre walking poles, I smiled to myself said Namaste and strode ahead.

The Nepali porters didn’t have poles.
Few had boots.
They floated up and down the mountains in flip flops or plimsolls.
Heavy packs, double their height balancing between their shoulder blades.

No guide
No porter

Spontaneous.
Hardcore.
Relaxed.

The Annapurna Circuit is one of the most popular hiking destinations in the world.
The trail is clearly marked and well worn.

Along the way guest houses accommodate hikers, serve food, coffee, chai and have drinking water.
Some of them even have hot water for a shower.
In my mind it was a perfect trail to walk lightweight.

I knew it wasn’t easy.

Basecamp is over 4,130 metres. Pokhara is at 800 metres.
It’s over 3000 metres up.
It’s THE Himalayas – they’re the tallest, steepest, most changeable, and dangerous.

I knew that.

The stick

I knew the stick would come in handy.
At first, it was a nuisance.
Unaccustomed to using one, it bumped into rocks and got caught in bushes.
But then, when parts of the trail became slushy; when the icy, wet stone became slippery, when it was so foggy I couldn’t tell how close I was to the edge of the pass,
then I quickly learnt how to use the stick.

It was while tottering down one icy path that I met a group of friendly Nepali guides.

With the stick in my right hand, wedged between two small boulders; my right knee bent at a right angle while I tentatively moved my left foot further in front of me, down the path.
The stick shifted slightly.
I shrieked, wobbled, found my balance, and sat on the frozen ground.
I slid on my bum down the short section using the stick like it was an oar slowing down a canoe.

The socks
The local guides approached.

Namaste, they were all smiles.
Namaste! I had stood up by now.

You have guide?
No guide.

You have porter?
No porter.

You have crampons?
What?

They pointed to their boots.
He said something funny in Nepali to the other guys because they laughed.

Ok, you have extra socks?
I was confused but nodded.

Yes, why?
You put socks over your shoes.
You don’t slide – like crampons.
With their big smiles, they left.

I did as was advised.
Counterintuitively, I stretched some socks as far over my shoes as possible.

I stood up.
Well, what do you know?
Instant grip.

No guide
No porter

I made it to basecamp!
I was very, very pleased with myself.

The bin liner

Even the few drops of rain that started spitting down could not dampen my joy.
When the rain turned torrential, I shrugged and slid into one of the bin liners.
Then the wind picked up; the rain turned to snow, then sleet, then back to rain.
It got cold.
I put my celebration on hold and got serious about getting down safely.

That was the hardest day of the 9-day walk.
Each step felt precarious.
The black plastic flapped against my wet knees and slipped over my eyes.
The rain running off the poncho was going straight into my shoes.
It felt like my feet were under a tap.
Icy gusts of wind threw me off balance.
Despite the socks and the stick I slipped and fell several times.
The ponchos were in tatters.
Later I found out I’d just missed an avalanche that almost killed some Chinese hikers.

In the end I returned to Pokhara in one piece.
A run of idyllic walking days followed the downpour, and I went back to a state of mild euphoria.
In awe of the colossal mountains.
In awe of myself.

A stunning view of one of the Machhapuchhre Peaks from the Annapurna Circuit.

I was also very, very grateful.
I knew I hadn’t climbed Everest, and that I wasn’t wearing a pair of Crocs or holding a naked Barbie, but I wasn’t optimally prepared.
I’d bruised my whole body, had cuts on my legs and arms.
I’d destroyed all but one pair of socks.
My Asics were brown.

Benjamin Franklin might have tutted and disapprovingly said:
“Failing to prepare is preparing to fail”
He might’ve been right.

Ultralight or Ultra Ill-Equipped?
Spontaneous or reckless?
Hardcore or foolish?

Here’s what I would bring if I were to do this hike again:
- Wet weather gear - jacket/pants/pack cover
- Hiking boots/trail runners
- First Aid Kit
- Personal Location Beacon (PLB) / Garmin GPS - Emergency device|
- Crampons
- Walking Poles (2 of them)
- Quick-dry (wool/Smart wool) clothing
- Spare gloves

What kind of hiker are you?

Have you ever felt too relaxed on the trail?
Have you ever over-prepared?

READ Why adventuring out of our comfort zone helps us reach our highest potential

Wildflowers of Western Australia - Masters of Survival

The southwest of Western Australia has been called ‘one biodiversity hotspot to rule them all…’.

It is home to over 8,000 plant species, most of them endemic.

It is by far the most biodiverse region in Australia and one of the most diverse in the world. (see figure below).

Plant biodiversity Austrealia - in Brundett 2021

Evolving over millions of years these species have adapted to survive the extreme and hostile conditions and constraints to survival.  

Along with increasingly frequent and devastating fires, plants in the southwest also face extreme heat and drought; soils with next to no nutrients, an abundance of plant-eating animals, and a lack of pollinators.

None is more spectacular, and relevant for this time of the year than the Nuytsia floribunda, aka WA Christmas Tree.

WA Christmas Tree - Hopetoun, January 2021 flowering after fire.

Most people in Western Australia know that the appearance of the dazzling orange blooms points to the start of the warm weather and with that, fire season.

Fire is one of the main constraints to survival facing all southwest species.

Moodjar, as this parasitic mistletoe tree is known in Noongar language, is so distinct there is only one species.

Dating back 45 million years it has developed some unique traits to survive fire and other constraints.

Here are some:

2. Uses fire to sprout new growth from buds held deep inside branches and roots.

2.   Some of these underground shoots can spread 100 metres around the parent tree and develop small, shallow roots that eventually develop the mechanisms (known as haustoria) that help it dig its way into the host roots

3.   The Nuytsia haustoria are the ring-shaped structures that surround the roots of the host plant and cut into it, to suck water or other nutrients.

4. Its fruits are dispersed by the wind using the papery and three-winged shape. The papery surface of the fruit helps it absorb water and germinate the seed.

5.  Seedlings can survive 3 to 4 years without a host if the soil has enough nutrients.

Three-winged fruit dispersed by wind can be scattered up to 50 metres away from tree.

Nuytsia floribunda haustoriogens - these ring shaped mechanisms surround the host root and cut into it to access nutrients and water.

In addition to having some unique features to survive fire and other constraints, the Moodjar is also of great spiritual importance to Noongar people, especially the Wardandi and Bibbulun people of southwest WA.

The dazzling flowers of the tree are believed to represent the spirits of people who have passed and are on their way to Kurannup or the home of the dead.

For many Noongar people it is disrespectful to stand in its shade or to collect its roots or sap.

‘No living Bibbulmun ever sheltered or rested beneath the shade of the tree of souls; no flower or bud or leaf of the tree was ever touched by child or adult; no game that took shelter beneath it was ever disturbed.’ (Bates 1938 in Bridge 1992: 153)

It is also believed that a cluster of Nuytsia has been used as a ceremonial space for women to conduct ‘women’s business’.

Like many of the diverse plant life of Western Australia, this spectacular tree represents the heating up of the weather, traditional culture and displays extraordinary features that enable its survival in our unique and demanding conditions.

Brundrett, Mark C., 2021, One biodiversity hotspot to rule them all: southwestern Australia – an extraordinary evolutionary centre for plant functional and taxonomic diversity, Journal of the Royal Society of Western Australia, 104, 91 - 122.  

Groom, Philip K. & Lamont, Byron B2015, Plant life of Southwestern Australia, adaptations for survival. De Gruyter Open, Berlin.

https://www.broadsheet.com.au/national/food-and-drink/article/just-because-its-there-doesnt-mean-you-have-right-use-it-why-moodjar-sacred-tree-nyoongar-people-and-should-never-have-been-used-make-gin

Wildflowers of Western Australia - the shape of flowers PT 1

This is a Eucalyptus lehmannii subsp. Lehmannii.
Also called a Bushy Yate.
They’re endemic to the southwest of Western Australia. 

I think it’s one of the most joyous of flowering trees.

This one was photographed in the Fitzgerald River National Park, near Bremer Bay

When it’s in flower it looks like there are hundreds of suns exploding inside its canopy. 

Each one of those globes is a cluster of flowers bonded together.
They (botanists) call the flowers and how they’re arranged, the plant’s inflorescence - that’s my favourite new word. 

Along with all the other plant species found in the highly diverse southwest region - 8000 or more - Eucalyptus have evolved and ‘innovated’ - the features necessary to survive the intense conditions of the region.

This evolution began over 100 million years ago.

Angiosperms and the revolution

All flowering plants - AKA angiosperms - appeared at least 100 millions years ago possessing a distinct and innovative feature.

A flower. 

This meant they could do two things:

1. Be pollinated by other organisms 

2. Store their seed inside a fruit.

This was a reproductive system double whammy. 

They also produced natural insecticides and maximised photosynthesis with 10x more veins in their leaves.

Armed with these features, and helped along by the extinction of dinosaurs, flowering plants continued to diversify. 

A major shift came when they engaged insects, birds and small mammals to help them pollinate and distribute seeds.

This drove the biodiversity of those and 100,000s of other organisms too.

They are the foundation on which our civilisations are built: our food, our materials, our medicine. 

It took them 50 million years - not that long in evolutionary terms - to colonise almost every land ecosystem on the planet.

They (paleobotanists) call it the Angiosperm Terrestrial Revolution.

Today, 90 percent of all plants on the planet are angiosperms. 

Most of the major families of WA’s southwest appeared during this period.

Ravensthorpe Range - Eucalyptus epicentre in WA

Plants of the southwest and their prolific biodiversity

The environment into which plants appeared in WA’s southwest posed a lot of challenges. 

1. Poor soils - hardly any nutrients, depleted of Phosphorus

2. Seasonal drought and lack of water

3.  Seasonal heat - high temperatures 

4. Fire - with the environment becoming increasingly flammable increasing over time

5. No useful organisms to pollinate or spread seeds

6. Plenty of plant eating creatures

It was an extreme Darwinian survival of the fittest scenario. 

Adaptation or die!
Many perished.

But the ones that made it, thrived.

The ones that made it diversified, and proliferated.

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Eucalyptus - Myrtaceae

Eucalyptus made it!

Thank goodness. They are the quintessential Australian plant. 
There are 900 species of Eucalyptus - apart from a hand ful of species in Indonesia, New Guinea and one in the Philippines, they’re native to Australia.

147 are found in the southwest of WA, about 60 of them are endemic.

How did they do it?

About 62 million years ago, when they first appeared, Eucalyptus had distinct features that enabled their survival

1. Against fire

• the ability to sprout a fresh shoot from branches or trunk 

• The ability to resprout fresh shoots from a lignotuber (a woody structure containing nutrients to help feed new growth)

1. Against poor soils 

• relationship with fungi where a mycorrhyza is formed allowing the roots of the tree to reach further away and access water and nutrients

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Above is Eucalyptus proxima - with colour variations of its flowers.

It could also be a Eucalyptus cernua. They’re very similar.

• Both are both found exclusively around Ravensthorpe, northeast of the Fitzgerald River National Park. They share the same downturn in the flower stalk and the fruits and leaves are almost the same.

• The big difference:  one is a mallee (many branches coming out of a root in the ground) and the other is a mallet (one trunk).
  
  But these are both Eucalyptus proxima - because the cernua is very tall - and I took the photo of a mallee not so tall that I couldn’t get to the flower!

  How beautiful are the bud caps?

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Banksias - Proteaceae

There are about 1400 species of Banksia around the world and Australia.
800 of them are found in the southwest and almost all of them are endemic!

How did they do it?

• Clustered roots that allowed them to optimise the access to nutrients

• They have leaves that are hard and thick-  to survive the heat (schleromorphic)

• They have seeds that are contained inside woody fruit that have to be heated by fire to be released.

• Seeds are dispersed by ants and emus

• There is often a delay between flowering and seed dispersal - called seretony

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Hakea - Proteaceae

18 million years ago, they appeared in the southwest. 

There are 150 different species of Hakea, 100 in southwest WA.

How did they do it?

• clustered their roots to optimise access to nutrients.

• evolved into being insect-pollinated and then bird-pollinated - maybe helped along by black cockatoos.

• their highly nutritious seed is inside a hard woody fruit that is made of resin and melts during fires to release the seed.

  Sometimes these fruit are large and sometimes they are scarce and difficult to find.

• They have resprouting features (like Eucalyptus) near the roots that enable them to survive fires

• Leaves shapes vary - some have thick and hard leaves to tolerate heat (sclerophyll) and some are spiny to deter insects or birds from eating the flower
  
  Look at the Royal Hakea below (Hakea Victoria).
  Endemic to the Fitzgerald River National Park - it dominates parts of the landscapes.

Hakea victoria - Royal Hakea - Fitzgerald River National Park

References:

Benton, M. J., Wilf, P. & Sauquet, H. 2021. The Angiosperm Terrestrial Revolution and the origins of modern biodiversity, New Phytologist, 233: 2017–2035

Brundett, M. 2021. One biodiversity hotspot to rule them all: southwestern Australia—an extraordinary evolutionary centre for plant functional and taxonomic diversity, Journal of the Royal Society of Western Australia, 104, 91 - 122.

French M. & Nicolle, D. 2019, Eucalypts of Western Australia The South-west Coast and Ranges

Groom, P. & Lamont, B. 2015. Plant Life of Southwestern Australia. Adaptations for Survival

Lamont. B.B & Pausas J.G. (nd) Ecology and biogeography in 3D: The case of the Australian Proteaceae

https://doi.org/10.1111/jbi.13348

Celebrating 6 Western Australian Trails on International Trails Day

A couple of years ago while hiking to the top of Burringurrah/Mt Augustus - a giant monocline in remote Wadjari country in Western Australia, I overheard a couple of hikers talking about how bad the markers on the trail were.

I'd thought the markers were OK.
I’d even thought whoever had the task of figuring out the best place to put them, had done a great job. 

Burringurrah sits in the middle of the Mt Augustus National Park about 1000 kilometres north of Perth in the West Australian Outback. It’s remote (even by Australian standards), rugged, extremely hot in summer and surrounded by arid vegetation as far as the eye can see.

Beedoboondu (or The Summit Trail) is a challenging 12km, steep, grade 5 track that makes its way up the giant rock through pristine bush to the 700 metre summit. There are lots of unclear paths, plenty of uneven or loose ground, boulders in the way, narrow sections close to cliff edges and some on-all-fours scrambling. The view from the summit is worth every misstep, bruise, scratch and moment of suspense between seeing a marker and locating the next one.

Once you enter the trail, apart from the small circular markers (yes, some of them are a bit worn) and the odd set of footprints, you might not know it was a planned hiking trail.

And that’s what I love about wilderness trails.

They take us into places that connect us to nature, to our wild; where we can 'undomesticate' ourselves, use our instincts, challenge our bodies.  In nature we reconnect with our spirit, with others, be inspired and even healed.
On trails we can learn about cultural and natural heritage, about nature and about ourselves.
Trails can support local economies and generate income for people who live near them.

When I think about what it took to get Beedoboondu trail up and ready for public use, it's amazing anyone bothered.

Someone had to convince stakeholders / secure funding / seek tenders / conduct environmental surveys / identify threatened species / mark sensitive habitats / consult with local Wadjari custodians for cultural issues / assess risks / attempt various routes / select the safest routes with least impact / write many reports / get the right markers for that extreme climate / get a team of people to fix them to the rock…

The point is even trails that don’t have a lot of infrastructure are created with a lot of effort, resources, and understanding of the many benefits they bring.

As someone who has chosen to earn part of her livelihood on trails, I know these benefits first hand. 🥰

Are we taking trails and their benefits for granted?

International Trails Day is a day to celebrate everything that trails provide and ensure they are never taken for granted.

Here in WA our trails give us access to some of the most pristine, biodiverse and blow-your-mind beautiful wilderness environments in the world. That is so worth celebrating!

Here are images from 6 Western Australia Trails we are celebrating today.

1. Beedoboondu - The Summit Trail - Mt Augustus National Park

Mt Augustus Burringurrah nearing summit

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Mt Augustus Buringurrah Mulla Mulla

2. The Escarpment Base Trail - Kennedy Range National Park

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Kennedy Range National Park

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Kennedy Range National Park

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3. The Hakea Trail – The Fitzgerald River National Park

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4. The Mamang Trail – The Fitzgerald River National Park

The Hakea Trail in the Fitzgerald River National Park

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Fitzgerald Beach on the Mamang Trail - Fitzgerald River National Park

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5. Yued Ponar Trail - Lesueur National Park

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Yued Ponar Trail Lesueur National Park

6. The Cape to Cape - Leeuwin Naturaliste National Park

The Cape to Cape - Photo by Donna Wolter

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The Cape to Cape - Wilyabrup Cliffs

For reliable and detailed maps, optimal times, conditions and what to expect go to www.trailswa.com

The Murchison Gorge - Walking A Wild and Ancient Landscape

I made it to the start of the Nature’s Window Loop Trail at 6:45 am.
It was February, and the trail is closed from 7 am.

For good reason.

The heat is intense in the summer months between November and February.

Feeling the heat … 8 am and already over 35 degrees in the Murchison Gorge - Kalbarri National Park

 It took me just over 3 hours to complete the 9 kilometres of this impressive class 4 trail, with a couple of short stops for shade.

Despite the intense heat, this first and short immersion into this ancient landscape of white and red layered sandstone, weathered rocky ledges skirting the winding river, sandy riverbanks lined with paperbarks and reeds, black swans … it was a magical introduction.

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Enough to make me want to come back for more.

 And we did.

We walked the 38 km of the 80 km riverine system, from Ross Graham Lookout to Nature’s Window, twice more before offering it as one of our Edgewalkers adventures.

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The first of these was also in February. There had been a dip in temperature rom low 40s to mid 20’s, I got permission from the head ranger to scope the gorge with a photographer for 4 days.

With water levels at their lowest, crossing back and forth across the river is easy, most of the time there are enough exposed rocks to step comfortably all the way across.

 The second time was in June.

The difference was significant.
First, the lower temperatures made walking with 15 plus kilos of water and food much easier. We also did not need to drink as much water.

Edgewalkers guide Kirra Diconza, staying close to the edge of the Murchison River - Kalbarri National Park

 Second, the higher water levels meant having to work out the safest place to cross the river and shorter distances covered every day.
It also meant having wet boots from the start.

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Both times were breathtaking.

The Murchison Gorge is one of our regular walking adventures usually run in June or August. We love this raw West Australian wilderness.

Mongolian Wildflowers ... through the Tavan Bogd National Park

Above: poppies above the Potanin Glacier Papaver ammophilum or nudicaule?

Walking through the Tavan Bogd National Park in Mongolia’s northwest in spring and summer is a delight for the senses.

The spectacle of snow-capped mountains always visible in the distance, picturesque rocky gorges, raucous streams rushing or gently meandering; the changing terrain underfoot: soft grassy stretches, sometimes dry, sometimes wet and boggy, dirt and gravel paths, loose rock, slippery slate, banks of unmelted snow, scree.

The scent of alpine larches mixed with the scent of juniper and the surprisingly not unpleasant odour of livestock scat that litters the ground. The calls of domesticated animals that wonder free throughout: horses, yaks, sheep, goats, camels and dogs; the scrambling of land squirrels and marmots, overhead the occasional shrill cries of hawks and kites.

And to add a magical touch, scattered in bursts daring bright, from under slate and in between rocks, sometimes carpets of them, sometimes solitary tufts swaying defiantly and vibrant, an abundance of wildflowers celebrate with jubilant colour the end of the long and relentless winter that until not long before had covered everything with ice and snow.

Wildflowers are everywhere and although we are still learning the names of these beauties, here are some of them.
Please feel free to make any corrections!

Siberian Globeflower - Trollius altaicus

China Pink - Dianthus Chinensis

Forget-me-nots - Myosotis krylova

Plumeless saw-wort - Serratula centauroides

Purple Pasque Flower - Pulsatilla sp.

Silver Speedwell - Veronica incana

Eriophorum latifolium?

Locoweed - Oxytropis sp

Alpine Aster - Aster alpinus

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This article is a work-in-progress … wildflowers abound throughout the Tavan Bogd National Park and each year it seems that more that have not been photographed appear … they adorn our surroundings while we walk, when we rest and eat, and fill the hike with burst of colourful joy.

Rhaponticum uniflorum