Discover how to embrace the secrets of South East Queensland's Mount Barney with indigenous wisdom.
The dusty dirt road, well, it is more like a track, continues until I am hopelessly lost and off the grid, deep in the undulating foothills of the Scenic Rim.
Slowing the car, I decide to turn around and just like that the Mount Barney Lodge entrance reveals itself with a manicured drive leading into spacious treed grounds.
After a long, wet South East Queensland summer, the surrounding bush is lush and green.
Platypuses dibble in the headwaters of the Logan River and nest on the banks, where the silvery water cascades into deep pools. River she-oaks, red flowering bottlebrush, golden silky oaks and patches of rainforest shade the edges.
I’m here to immerse myself in nature with a Yarriba Dreaming journey led by the affable Kruse Summers, aka Gurruhmun ‘Old Man Kangaroo’, a Ugarapul and Bidjara man.
On this one-day sampler of the threeday course, I’ll be walking through the landscape in Kruse’s footsteps, listening to his stories and seeing the world through his eyes.
Innes Larkin, who with wife Tracey owns Mount Barney Lodge, partners with Kruse to share his deep knowledge of local ecology during the experience.
There’s no choice; I’m in the slow lane. No Internet, no television, and the closest landline is in the office.
It’s blissful to be unaware of today’s news disaster.
I meet Kruse under the dappled shade of a rangy macadamia tree. He fans a small fire of glowing coals ready for the smoking ceremony.
“We’re in a very important place,” he says. “Not just to my people but also to a lot of other mobs.”
Kruse gives a traditional language welcome and then translates:
Kruse Summers, aka Gurruhmun ‘Old Man Kangaroo’.
“I say good day, beautiful people. Come along, sit down with Old Man Kangaroo. I say now truth for the purpose of you to hear my sacred land. Go, walk good. Talk with the sacred land, give good spirit.”
Kruse throws gum leaves onto the fire and adds a touch of lemon myrtle because life has been fast lately and he says it aids relaxation.
“People like to interact with the smoke differently,” he says.
“Some push it up their shirt or on their feet. It doesn’t matter how you get the connection.
“I get my feet over the fire too because when I walk on country, country talks to my feet.”
It’s the start of a day full of surprises and increasing understanding as my group of four explores the landscape.
We leave the homestead grounds and walk towards an ancient birthing waterhole, sharing stories along the way.
Kruse spots a bright orange butterfly. He says this means it will be a bumper bunya nut harvest this year.
“When they saw this butterfly, it was a signal for the mobs to gather in the Bunya Mountains and feast,” he says.
Mount Barney waterhole.
Photo Kerry Heaney.
Photo Kerry Heaney.
Approaching a secluded waterhole traditionally used by women to give birth, Kruse asks for permission to enter from the tree guardian at the entrance.
It’s a deeply peaceful, spiritual spot. He shows us a natural rock cradle for newborns and warns men should not swim here.
Kruse proudly wears his heritage as a leader and teacher, which he inherited from his grandfather.
As we relax around a picnic table for lunch, he respectfully displays the artifacts that his grandfather handed to him.
“This one’s one of my favourites,” he tells us.
“It is a woman’s tool; you can see the grooves where they would have tied the handle with kangaroo sinew. You’re probably looking at one of the oldest mattock hoes in the world.”
Hikers in the Scenic Rim. Photo Tourism and Events Queensland.
We walk the ridgeline tasting bush food. At the top, there’s a stunning view of the impressive 1,359m (about the size of four Ulurus stacked) granite mass of Mount Barney.
The likeness to a pregnant woman lying on her back is easy to see. It’s no coincidence that this is the birth spot for the Logan River headwaters.
Innes shows us how to mould dry grass stems into a replica bird’s nest, adding the smallest amount of wispy seed pod to coddle the flame.
As evening falls, we sit around a campfire eating an impressive camp oven stew mopped up with a crisp damper.
Kruse plays the digeridoo as the Milky Way is revealed in a profoundly dark night sky. Tonight, I’m sleeping in a single bed inside a traditional Queensland-style timber and tin three-bedroom cottage, Boolamoola Homestead.
It’s decked out with enough knickknacks that I feel like I’ve stepped into a previous century.
Despite the obvious age of the castiron bed, it is superbly comfortable, with a flower-sprigged bedspread and fluffy cushions.
I’m drifting into a good night’s sleep with a mind full of wonder.
Tomorrow, I’ll wake up with different eyes.
The author was a guest of Mount Barney Lodge and Yarriba Dreaming.
