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Aboriginal food, Aboriginal medicine, Aboriginal tools, Bingi Bingi, Grey Rocks, Kelly Lake, plants, tracks
Dreaming tracks or Song Lines link places visited by Aboriginal people: the Bingi Dreaming track links campsites, ceremonial and trade sites, fresh water and plentiful coastal food sources. We’re following in the footsteps of the Brinja-Yuin people as we walk the track section by section (it’s 13.5 kilometres one way), returning day after day to enter it at a different point, to cover new territory and to revisit a few favourites: trees, and a pathway or two.
Dreaming Track from Bingi Bingi towards Tuross
Saturday’s stroll begins at Bingi Bingi Point, along a track sloping gently upwards through casuarinas to a bare headland.
I’ve never tackled this stretch before because I thought it would involve beach walking, and I’m pleasantly surprised to find coarse grass underfoot, and a vast view south to Mother Gulaga, who reclines under a blue sky and a warm sun.
We do have to descend to the beach briefly, but a gleaming jut of rocks makes me forget the horrors of deep sand, and I’m more than happy to drag my feet in a triangle to the rocks and then back up across sand to a wooden staircase decorated with lichen.
There the track heads off under a green arch, crosses a flat grassy area where J walks side by side with a magpie, and then enters the familiar banksia forest with its knobbly trunks.
The goal is last week’s tree with the beautiful buds, a eucalyptus as yet unidentified. While J scrutinises it, I spot a half-eaten banksia flower and a couple of tiny mushrooms, and make a study of bladey grass, so different in shade and sun.
J appears with a handful of branchlets from the mystery tree, containing all that’s necessary for ID. We already have photos of the bark.
Back home, he pulls out the plant key and spends two frustrating hours meeting dead ends. Nuts too big. Location wrong. The one tree it looks like in another book doesn’t feature in the key. So the mystery tree is a mystery still.
Dreaming Track: Bingi Bingi to Grey Rocks
On Sunday, after a breakfast of bream and rye toast, we amble along the section of the track that skirts Kelly’s Lake.
It passes through an an Indigenous pharmacy, grocery and hardware store, beautifully signposted with illustrations by various Aboriginal women, who are also sources for knowledge about the uses of native plants.
And there are many. If you suffer from rheumatism or arthritis, or have a swelling, you can harvest a bunch of native nettles (Urtica incisa) and beat the affected area. If you fancy chewing something or want to make yourself, say, a digging stick, the she-oak (Casuarina glauca) will provide green seeds or timber.
If you need a shot of vitamin C, chew the red berries of the saltbush (Rhagodia candolleana), available in summer only. If you’re after something more substantial, seek out the tubers of the silkpod vine (Parsonsia straminea).
If you have a sweet tooth the banksia flower (Banksia integrifolia) has rich nectar you can steep in water for a satisfying drink.
If you want to weave a mat, make string, cook something on hot coals or make damper, mat rush (Lomandra longifolia) is what you need.
if you can’t find Lomandra, saw-edge grass (Ghania sp) will serve much the same purposes.
If you’re bitten by a snake, looking for a fruit snack or need a handle for your axe, native cherry (Exocarpos cupressiformis) will provide.
If you want to munch on a plump pink or purple fruit (the ones in the photo have yet to ripen) head for groves of lilli pillis (Syzygium smithii) in the remnant rainforest, and stop to admire their spectacular bark.
The track crosses the mouth of the lakeand via a wide sandbar, and takes us past an island of black rock plonked at the tideline, to the shapely piles of rock at Gray Rocks, lichened by orange, and spotted with black xenoliths.
We eat lunch – sweet and sour rice and a beer – in a restaurant at the edge of the land, looking out over rolling blue to the horizon, and along the coast towards Mullimburra, our seat folds of grey granite.
We return to the car along a track through dense green, down wooden stairs covered in sand and pigface and along the beach, now hard enough for comfortable walking.
Your photos are simply wonderful Meg, the new camera is doing well, colours so clear and contrast perfect. The beach looks pristine. I would love to walk there. As for the arthritis cure, I can say that nettles don’t cure it. They do however take your mind off the pain as you wait for the tingling to disappear…
Oh, almost forgot to mention the lichens – what fabulous beauties!!
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Thank you. I’m pretty pleased with the camera. It performs as well as my old flower camera on close-ups I think. Having a viewfinder is a huge plus.
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Yes, I like a viewfinder too. Using a screen is a pain when it is bright.
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Some of those cockatoos are here, https://dadirridreaming.wordpress.com/2013/01/05/yellow-tailed-black-cockatoos/ I kept wondering about them and I had seen them before,. What are the horrors of deep sand my lovely? Getting achy legs or something more sinister?
I’m sure I must have passed through Bingi in a previous life 🙂
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You passed through Bingi with Christine. Where we’re walking is absolutely her territory. Lovely to revisit her blog. I’ll know now to protect against sagging breasts, although it’s obviously too late. As for deep sand, I just find it an unpleasant, wearying slog. I like to be able to stride a bit, and it stops me from doing that. I’ve probably half talked myself into it! And look what I missed out on!
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Can you guarantee those native cures will work their magic? Lovely photos to illustrate.
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No guarantee, but the Old People knew things.
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I love the lichens on the steps and all the variety of plant life along this trail. Some of the beach scenes and grasses are wonderful, especially those smooth gray rocks and the dense green where you walked down. It’s so interesting how you can use the various plants as remedies or treats; we found the Hopis and Navajos and their ancestors used all kinds of plants for every purpose in the Four Corners area. It’s fascinating to me how their native ancestors figured out how to put all these plants to use.
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My plumber who’s Aboriginal is very knowledgeable about bush tucker, and probably bush medicine too. My son’s had a number of yarns with him. I think he did a long coast walk a few years ago with the intention of living off the land. I’ve read that old remedies are often “validated” by “scientific research”. I made a grass-woven basket once under the tutelage of one of the info panel artists, (and painted frogs – I’m absolutely no painter! – under the tutelage of another.)
What got me about these two days was the variety of tracks in what couldn’t have been more than 5km – and J’s usefulness as a figure in the landscape!
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You are so talented making grass-woven baskets and painting frogs. A multitude of talents. 🙂 I’m curious about who is J? Very nice!
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Very untalented, and slow! J’s the ex and current, my weekend companion, the father of my children, and a bit of a polymath, to name a few attributes!
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Wow, he’s a bit of everything. Some bits are like my husband, ex- and current and father of my boys (not my daughter who is from my first husband), except he was just an ex by separation, never by divorce, so it was easy enough to get back together once we’d gotten to that point. Thanks for sharing that, Meg. 🙂
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We didn’t divorce either – his job, and he’s not a fan of paperwork. We don’t live together. Eek at the thought both ways! But weekends are good.
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That’s the perfect way to do things in my eyes, Meg. Not living together is very appealing to me! Spending time together on weekends makes the time together special. When we dated for a year before we got married, I lived in Richmond and he lived in Northern Virginia, so we only saw each other on weekends. It was the perfect arrangement. 🙂
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The mystery tree has such delicate dainty flowers. I’ll be interested to hear if you are able to identify it.
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You’ll hear! There’ll be very loud cries of achievement audible worldwide. It’s a eucalyptus – we’ve got that far, but then you’d know that from the flower.
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I need some of those nettles for arthritis. The lichened steps are wonderful and Sue’s right about the variety. I was at the beach this morning and I always think of you when I’m there. Yes I’ll snaffle this for tomorrow. Sand between my toes hugs xx
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I meant to offer it up to you, oh Goddess of the Walk, but upload frustrations drove it from my mind. It was wonderfully various wasn’t it? I’ve now walked pretty well the whole length over the years, but J hasn’t, so I’ll be revisiting sections for the next few weeks, mingling botany and geology – and sheer unthinking pleasure. Is your arthritis bad? Where? Freezing fingers hugs back – pegging out the washing at 8.30 just about gave me frostbite, and I was cold in bed last night. I need to think positive thoughts about camping!
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Thank you, my Lovely Lady of Words. 🙂 🙂 Yes, joyful! but not the arthritis. It varies greatly but often bad in my thumbs and I was almost immobile for a couple of days with the hip joint. Old age is a bummer 🙂
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What a great name….and it looks a wonderfully varied track, plenty to keep mind, eyes and camera at work!
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You’ve encapsulated what the track offers beautifully, thank you.
It’s just occurred to me that I haven’t actually explained what it is. Dreaming tracks or Song Lines link places visited by Aboriginal people: the Bingi Dreaming track links campsites, ceremonial and trade sites, fresh water and plentiful coastal food sources. We’re following in the footsteps of the Brinja-Yuin people as we walk the track. I probably should preface my posts with this information.
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I wondered….I did read Chatwin’s Songlines, but forgotten most of it
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