Take a Sunday, add ten years of urban sprawl into and beyond the purview of ‘North Lakes’, combine with a tacit complicity towards hours confined in vehicles and then estimate how long it will take you to get from Brisbane to Roy’s. Add several dollops of roadworks, a scoop of school holiday traffic, signage with a new meaning, mix well and then go figure how to get to Roy’s let alone the time it will take.
We gave ourselves plenty of leeway, took the turnoff for Roys Rd and duly ignored all signage thereafter. Sealed roads flicked white dashes through a procession of wallum graveyards lined with forestry tombstones. The closer to Coochin Creek the more potted and patched the road became as the influence of the past decade started to recede. That was until the surprise finish where the road curled down and was punctuated by a magnificent car park.
We were unusually early, yet a yellow kayak was ready and waiting accompanied by Ray from the Sunshine Coast Seniors. More kayaked cars nosed down the hill to the boat ramp. A mellow, predominantly yellow, flotilla slipped away on the outgoing tide. A bird of prey took a splashing belly dive. While it lacked the classical finesse as seen on TV, it was clearly effective as it surged out with a massive flap clasping some unfortunate fish.
The closer to Caloundra, the noisier and more humanised the waterscape became. We headed for the tidal induced solitude of Lions Park on northern Bribie. Lions Park holds a pandanus framed view of Pumicestone Passage. It is beautifully maintained, has a loo and covered tables. The need for a low draft and fabulous boot sucking mud protected us from petrol power.
It was a short stroll down a lantana lined grassy lane to a soft sandy track across a low dune to the surf. Little wonder the signage declares “No Camping”. To find this place from the surf side would be difficult as there were no distinguishing landmarks.
The day was warm and soft. All the bay could muster was an occasional wave. Some of us couldn’t do much better. Our thoughts of going on to the bar to play in the waves dissipated with the swell and became a leisurely drift back to Lighthouse Reach for lunch. At the back of the day use area is the main track. 4WD chocked with with rug rats large and small roared by. It was not far to the remnant lighthouse so Mark and I went to check it out while the rest of the flotilla headed back for Roy’s into a brisk Southerly. The sand track was wide and packed firm. We were wearing unnaturally bright clothes so the chance of being squished by a speeding hero seemed remote. It was the quiet crawlers that almost scored the points. The presence of WWII gun embankments provided temptation to explore more but lack of certainty as to location has placed that on a ‘to do’ promise. – next time with a tent.
Thirty minutes after setting out we were back at the kayaks to find the Southerly failing, the waters less ruffled and the silhouette of the glasshouse mountains as immovable and timeless as ever. This time we traveled along what is now signed as Roys Rd and turned right onto Steve Irwin Way. Then up the hill to Maleny to join Robyn for a delicious wood fired pizza at the local Irish Bar instead of a traffic snarl.
In the end it was not the traffic but the road works that played its hand, with more road than work being seen in the slow crawl back to Brisbane.
