Seven Darwin Bushwalking Club members set out on a four-day journey through southern Kakadu—a landscape of secluded pools, ancient rock art, rare plants and a spectacular sandstone boulder field.

The walk was planned and led by Resy and Chris, with seven walkers in the group. We left Darwin at midday on Thursday, travelling in two vehicles to Pine Creek. After two hours on the road, a stop at the Lazy Lizard for some excellent homemade ice cream provided a welcome break.

From Pine Creek, we continued for approximately 50 minutes along the Kakadu Highway, followed by another hour and a half on dirt roads to Koolpin Gorge Campground (Jarrangbarnmi). We arrived at about 5 pm, with enough daylight remaining to establish camp and settle in.

Shortly before reaching the campground, Chris—our resident vegetation ecologist—spotted a Koolpin box (Eucalyptus koolpinensis). This rare eucalypt has a highly restricted distribution and is found only in the vicinity of Koolpin Gorge. Having Chris with us added another dimension to the walk, as he identified many of the plants we encountered and explained how they fitted into the surrounding landscape.

We spent our first evening getting to know one another around the campfire and sharing stories of previous walks (and buffalo jerky, with thanks to Hannah). With a full day ahead of us, it was not long before everyone turned in for an early night.

Following Koolpin Creek

We left Koolpin Campground at 8 am on Friday, while the morning was still relatively cool, and headed northeast along Koolpin Creek.

Navigation through the gorge was straightforward, although the walking was rarely easy. The creek was lined with inviting pools and several small waterfalls, offering plenty of opportunities to swim and cool down. Underfoot, however, the route was consistently rocky, with repeated climbs and descents as we made our way through Koolpin gorge.

As the creek banks narrowed into cliffs, we moved onto higher ground on the southern side. The terrain became increasingly rugged and undulating as the afternoon temperature began to rise.

Our efforts were rewarded when we began discovering rock-art sites overlooking the creek. We slowed our pace and took time to quietly appreciate the paintings and their setting. Encountering this art within the landscape—rather than in a gallery or formal visitor site—was a powerful reminder of the long and continuing cultural significance of this country.

After exploring the area, we found a route back down to Koolpin Creek and followed it northwards. That evening, we camped on a beautiful, shaded beach of soft sand near the junction of Koolpin Creek and the gorge that would lead us towards Freezing Gorge. It was an ideal campsite beside the water and a peaceful end to our first full day.

The Approach to Freezing Gorge

On Saturday morning, we were walking again by 8am, heading west along the tributary gorge.

The route initially passed through moderately dense woodland and along dry, rocky creek beds. The gorge remained shaded for much of the morning, keeping conditions pleasantly cool. About a kilometre before Freezing Gorge, we briefly climbed to a high point close to the level of the surrounding escarpment.

From there, the route descended steeply through rocky and densely wooded terrain. As we picked our way down, we were surrounded by a kaleidoscope of butterflies—a wonderful splash of colour against the green foliage and ochres of the gorge.

Freezing Gorge itself was very impressive. We stopped for lunch at the junction of two gorges: Freezing Gorge extending roughly east–west and another gorge running almost north–south. Enclosed by towering sandstone walls, it felt wonderfully remote.

The next stage involved a swim of approximately 400 metres through the gorge. We waterproofed our packs using large dry bags and heavy-duty plastic liners before easing ourselves into the water. Despite its name, the gorge was not quite freezing, although the first few minutes were certainly bracing. Once we adjusted to the temperature, swimming between the high rock walls with our packs floating beside us became one of the walk’s most memorable experiences.

A Maze of Fallen Sandstone

For me, the most spectacular part of the journey began beyond Freezing Gorge.

As the gorge widened, we entered an immense field of collapsed sandstone extending southwards for about a kilometre. Over a very long period, water, weathering and erosion have exploited natural fractures in the escarpment, causing enormous sections of rock to collapse into the gorge below.

The result is an extraordinary maze of boulders. Some were the size of large cars; others rose above us like multi-storey buildings. Our route twisted over, around and beneath them as we searched for a safe way through the boulder field in the gorge.

Progress was slow and required patience. We would climb onto a boulder only to find ourselves above a sheer drop or facing an impassable gap. Many times we had to backtrack and search for another route.

Although challenging, the boulder field was also exceptionally beautiful. High above us, the gorge walls glowed in shades of ochre against a brilliant blue sky. Between the rocks, vivid green trees flourished wherever their roots could reach the gorge’s reliable water supply. The contrast of sandstone, clear water and lush green vegetation created an impressive landscape.

About an hour south of Freezing Gorge, we found our campsite for the night on a broad rock slab with a generous slope, beside a clear pool. Shady trees stood along the western side, and gorge walls surrounded us in almost every direction. It was an excellent place to swim, relax and enjoy the view.

The Final Scramble

We were moving by 7.45 am on Sunday, continuing southwards and downhill through the boulder field towards the open woodland below the escarpment.

Because the gorge ran north–south, we remained in shade throughout the morning. This was fortunate, as the final section proved to be the most technically demanding part of the walk—particularly for anyone uncomfortable with heights.

This was not rock climbing in the formal sense, but several transitions required care and confidence. An eight-metre rope proved extremely useful for raising and lowering packs and providing additional security through the trickier sections. Working together, we were able to help each person negotiate the obstacles safely.

After completing the more difficult climbs, we reached one final water crossing and floated our packs to the opposite side. From there, an easier downhill scramble led us towards the open woodland at the base of the escarpment.

In total, it took us about four and a half hours to travel through the one-kilometre boulder field between Freezing Gorge and its southern end. The time required says much about the nature of the terrain: this was not a place where distance provided any reliable indication of difficulty.

Once clear of the gorge, we turned east and followed a relatively easy route through savanna woodland parallel to the escarpment. When the gap marking Koolpin Gorge came into view, we changed direction and headed northeast towards the campground.

There was, however, one final obstacle. A very large buffalo stood ahead of us and appeared to have no intention of moving. We quickly backtracked and made a wide detour around it, keeping closer to the creek and the protection of larger trees in case they were needed. Fortunately, the buffalo remained where it was, and we continued without incident.

We arrived back at Koolpin Campground at around 1.30 pm. From there, we had a smooth trip home, once again stopping at the Lazy Lizard in Pine Creek—this time for a hot pub meal and a refreshing beverage.

This was an outstanding walk through a distinctive part of Kakadu. It combined clear pools, waterfalls, rare vegetation, rock art, a long gorge swim and some challenging boulder scrambling. Just as importantly, it was shared with a terrific group of like-minded people who worked well together and kept the experience enjoyable throughout.

Thank you to Resy and Chris for planning and leading such a memorable journey.

Written by David Bradley