Day 4 – Karijini (Mt Meharry)

Sunday, 14/08/2022

I awoke this morning in a sweat thanks to the rising sun that was hitting my side of the tent. After kicking the doonas off and still feeling too hot, I decided I would let Daniel continue baking in our little oven and start my day. I grabbed the keys, put my shoes on, and went to open the canopy. Locked. “Ah, of course! Daniel licks it up at night!” So I press the unlock button on MRT’s central locking fob, waiting for the loud ‘clunk!’ Nothing.

“Huh, maybe I’m holding it too low?” Press, press, press. Nothing, nothing, nothing.

“Uh, Daniel?”

I get a sleepy “Mmmwhat?” in return.

“Than canopy’s not unlocking…”

“Really!?” A much more alarmed response.

“Yep..”

And as I stood there with a perplexed look on my face, it dawned on me. The central locking requires power from the battery in the canopy. The same battery that powers our fridge and our freezer… As I realised this, Daniel confirmed my fears as he said “The battery must have gone flat.”

So, just start the car and she’ll be right! Right? WRONG. Our super smart, high-tech DCDC charger is sometimes a little too smart for it’s own good, and the lithium battery also. You see, when our lithium battery gets too low it goes into a sort of ‘limp’ mode to protect itself and switches off completely, reading 0 volts. The DCDC charger, being the smartarse that it is, refuses to release any power unless its getting a voltage reading. I assume it’s to prevent it from setting fire to something that doesn’t require power, or something like that. So, even if we started the car, the battery was in its safety, 0 volt mode which meant Mr DCDC no so chargy.

Luckily for us, we had actually discovered this issue at home in the weeks Daniel was working tirelessly in the garage. A quick google at the time showed that you just have to bypass the DCDC charger to trick it into thinking there is a voltage at the output side. There are even little ‘jump-start’ or ‘bypass’ buttons you can buy and install on your DCDC chargers just for this. But you can also just use a bit of insulated wire and connect the positive inlet to the positive outlet of the DCDC charger, and Bob’s your uncle. Knowing all of this, Daniel had brough the bit of wire just in case. Sweet! We had everything we needed to do it! We just had to open the canopy to get to the battery and charger!

Ah yes, open a locked canopy with no central locking power… My first question to Daniel upon realising all of this was “Where are the canopy keys?” to which Daniel calmly replied, “In the cable case!” Shit. Last I saw that case it was ALSO in the canopy!

“Isn’t that in the canopy?” I said, my voice raising to near hysterical levels.

“No, I put it back behind the seat.” Daniel replied, still cool as a cucumber. I dashed around the car, my heart pounding as I pulled open the back door, and breathed a huge sigh of relief when I saw the now-beloved cable case sitting in the back seat pocket. Crisis averted! We unlocked the canopy manually, Daniel was out of bed by now and did his bypass surgery on the DCDC charger, and we were away. We ran the DMAX for a good half an hour, conscious of the other campers nearby.

After it got a bit of juice back, we set up the solar panels which seemed to be working more consistently today with a perfectly clear sky. I had assessed the damage and was relieved to find most of the freezer contents still frozen and the fridge still sitting at about 7C. Not great, but not the end of the world. I just wouldn’t be drinking the milk from then on because I’m paranoid about food hygiene. And so our morning was jump started by some luck and pre-planned fixes. We also discussed the idea of wiring the canopy central locking to the main car battery instead of the canopy batter, and Daniel has assured me this is a super easy modification and we’ve added it to our “fix/mod list”.

Daniel had another cook up, I ate a banana, and then we cleaned up the camp and got ready for the day. It was definitely warmer than yesterday, so we decided on another walk to Fern Pool for a swim before lunch. It was quite busy by the time we walked down, but we enjoyed the swim none-the-less. We took even more photos, and I felt a bit like an Instagram model posing behind the waterfall, but it was too pretty not to take a photo! Once we’d finished indulging my more feminine side we trekked back to Fortescue Falls where Daniel enjoyed another swim while I sun-baked on the rocks by the waterfall. Just writing that sounds like something you’d read in a fiction novel, but it was our reality and it is the reality of anyone who comes to Karijini.

Eventually we got hungry, so we made the climb back out of Dale’s gorge and headed back to camp where we made some classic Aussie lunch – snags in bread. We packed up camp and hit the road, heading for Mt Meharry.

It’s about a 1.5hr drive (around 100km) to the base of the mountain from the Karijini campgrounds. We came back into reception somewhere along the Great Northern Highway, so I thought I would google this mountain we were about climb and see what we were in for, and how long the climb would take. We were racing the setting sun, eager to get to the summit and watch it set from up there. What I found was enough to turn any sane person around and heading home. Every article and comment I could find from 2013 to present times said the same thing – It was an extreme 4WD track up to the summit, with shear rock faces and loose slate, large rocks and ditches, and very steep for a very long time. Only the most experiences of 4WDers should try it. As I read these out to Daniel, sounding more and more worried as I read on, we both grew a little apprehensive. However, Daniel was confident, and I have a bad habit of forgetting just how much experience he has. So, we continued South on the highway until good old Google Maps said to turn right towards a bunch of MASSIVE hills.

As we pulled off the highway, we saw a chap airing up his tires and decided to stop and ask if he’d just climbed this mountain. “I tried, but we didn’t make it” he said with a shake of his head. His gearbox had apparently overheated in his VW Amarok and his dash lights had gone crazy. So he’s had to continue up one last section to get to one of the ONLY spots you can safely turn around before heading back down. “Imagine the powerlines track from Perth – It’s like that all the way up, and it goes forever!” With that glowing review, we continued on – Me convinced we would die, and Daniel cautiously optimistic and keen to test out the DMAX on such gnarly conditions.

We had also been warned that the track to the base was extremely corrugated – this was an understatement. And yet, we both marvelled at how much more comfortable the DMAX was with its new Pedder’s suspension kit, and the difference it makes having coils on the front instead of torsion bars like the old Ranger.

With a few mandatory stops for photos, drone footage, and to air down, we eventually hit the bottom of the mountain. Wow was she big! And wow was it beautiful out here! The first part of the hill climb was a nice introduction to what was to come. Daniel engaged the diffs, set her in 4 low, and off we went. At first it was just mild dips, smallish rocks, and rutted track climbing steadily upward. We came to a smooth section and thought “Surely that can’t be the gnarly stuff everyone talks about?” Nope. Not at all.

Five minutes down the track (or should I say up the track) and the real hill climb began. Large shale and loose rocks, huge boulders jutting out from every angle, large ruts from previous downpours where water had cut away the dirt, and the standard alternating holes from previous adventurers and their spinning tires awaited us. We crept our way up, Daniel meticulously placing his wheels to avoid the nasty bits, and even getting me out to direct in some of the tighter, trickier sections.

After some time, we reached the section that our buddy had mentioned where he had to bail with the gearbox issues. There were 3 options, each with their own difficulties. One looked mild at first, but on closer inspection was full of loose rocks, some of which were the size of a football or bigger. Beneath the loose rock was a few angled rocks that wouldn’t offer much more grip. The second option was basically a collection of slabby rocks bundled on top of each other in a messy staircase type fashion. Although much less slippery, there were a few sharp edges and large steps to climb. The third option was, in my opinion, the scariest. It had what looked like larger steps up, but the rocks were more rounded with less sharp angles. Some smaller rocks had been placed to make a bit of a ‘ramp’ up the steep step-up which provided a bit of grip for your tyres. But there were 2 dirty great big rocks sitting about a car width apart, one on each side, that you had to line up between perfectly or risk scraping up the sides of your tyres AND car (if you’re like us and haven’t yet installed rock sliders…). In addition to this, the line into this section was on a sharp corner that required a bit of a 3 point turn to get around, leaving you having to reverse right up to quite a steep drop off on the edge of the track to get your car facing the right direction for the approach. Daniel chose option 3.

So, I got out and helped line the DMAX up, acting as eyes on the ground for Daniel. Thanks to my excellent navigation skills of “Yep, bit to the left! Straight! Left! Right! Left a bit! Straight! Yep yep yep good you’re good yep!” etc, accompanied with hand gestures and all, we got through unscathed. In fact, the DMAX crawled up it like a walk in the park! With that obstacle conquered, we continued the climb. It was a steady trek up rocks, steps, jumps, ditches, more rocks, ruts, a shocky that someone had left behind on the track, and maybe some more rocks. The view just got more and more spectacular, and it was probably the most picturesque 4WD track I’ve ever been on.

After climbing for about half an hour or 45 minutes, the ground finally started to level out a bit. We stopped to chuck the drone up and were instantly rewarded with the most spectacular bit of track I’ve ever seen. We were driving along the ridge of a mountain, climbing the final 20m or so of elevation, and the world just dropped away to a view of the surrounding valleys and hills on either side. The drone footage doesn’t do it justice, and unfortunately my sub-par drone flying skills led to a lot of missed opportunities. That said, it still looked incredible. And so, we drove and flew the final section where we finally stopped next to the piled rocks that marked the summit. We had conquered the mountain. We left the drone circling us while we got out and looked around in absolute awe. Rolling hills with massive, shear ridges slicing through them surrounded us on all sides. There were flat plains beyond that, and another range far off on the horizon. The sun was taking its final dive towards the horizon, and we watched in even more awe as the sky lit up on fire. I started dashing around like mad, barking orders at Daniel to move here or there to get the perfect shot, the perfect photo. And yet not one does it justice. Eventually I gave up and let myself enjoy it in person instead, and it will be burned in my memory for years to come.

We stayed until the sun had well and truly set, signed the book at the top, and admired the view one last time. Then we packed our camera gear away and readied for the descent. Despite being dark, and given the difficulty of the track, we still made good time. We knew what to expect and let the Supanovas lead the way. I jumped out and walked down a fair stretch of the mountain guiding Daniels tyre placement with a torch, and filming the tricker bits as we went. Soon we were back at the bottom, still gushing about the spectacular views we’d just seen. And so the 1.5hr drive back to Dales campground went, with a quick driver swap at the bottom to give Daniel a well-earned break. Our night ended with some pre-made meals that we heated up on the stove, and we got to bed by about 10pm. What. A. Day!