Nobody knows who Simpson was. This gap in the hills was first named Simson’s Gap on a map made in 1871 by Gilbert McMinn while part of the Overland Telegraph expedition. How and who added the P is also not known. What is certain is that there is a gap through which animals and people can pass.
This was our second stop of the day and the site after which the whole excursion was named. Again, the walk was not significant and the sights were magnificent.
As we walked from the car park to the Gap, we again came across one of these fallen trees that refuses to die as a result.
Having seen a few trees like this now I was no longer surprised, rather admiring of the resilience and determination to make the best of bad situation. What did surprise me though was this sign and its placement.
We were obviously walking on a dry riverbed that when flowing shouldn’t be swum in. However as I suspect that happens as a flood event, I would have thought it was self-evident not to swim. There are puddles of water even in the dry season with dragon flies.
The Simpson’s gap itself always has water in it, even if it isn’t very deep at this time of year, it is cold!
The presence of water here means the gap can be a home to other wildlife apart from dragonflies, most obviously rock-wallabies. We saw one at the washing in the water (no picture) and another sunning itself on a rock.
We also saw a peregrine falcon. Our guide pointed out where in the high rock face there was a nest when we heard the young calling their parents. The a parent flew to the nest, fed the young and left again. The young stayed quiet for a bit until they could sense a parent approaching again when they started calling out. My camera lens wasn’t quite up to capturing this, so you will have to make do with the story!
My amateur geologist was again sufficiently intrigued by the rocks to take pictures, but not enough to enrol on a course!