North Qld - The Devils Thumb - Intensity

A day before, I'd heard only whispers of a trail catapulting you thick into the rainforest. A day later and my life would not be the same. Guided by a friend of a friend, whose words sung its praises, ‘one of North Queensland’s best’ he lured. We may have been naïve, but how could we resist the temptation? To the Kubirri clan, traditional owners of the Kuku Yalanji it is Manjal Jimalji – also known as The Devils Thumb.

It’s a trail that few have heard of, and fewer have attempted.

With excitement and anticipation, we were up early from our camp site in Port Douglas. Our buzz mirrored in nature by a choir of tropical birds. They danced amongst the huge creeper laden fig tree above our tents with the rising sun. Lunches were packed – hard boiled eggs, hummus, crackers and fruit. Water for the day, first aid kit, insect repellent strong enough to burn your nose - essential items for a day of adventure.

A gentle 700m walk from the carpark to the head of the trail. Crossing a sweet little creek we came upon the Parks sign. ‘Above average fitness required’ it guided, ‘allow 8 hours to walk 10.6kms’. With a steady confidence we were not deterred. Surely, they were exaggerating.

A gentle slope to begin with, as the trail wove in an out amongst the rainforest, was quickly replaced by a steep track, with each step up requiring a pang determination. There was something decidedly lacking... Sweeping bends, acting to reducing the slope of the inclination, the same bends you enjoy on a Saturday drive up the Paluma Range. They were no where in sight.

The upwards hike - Daintree Rainforest

No - this track was not forged by someone looking for an easeful ride. It was forged by someone on a mission. It was not cut by someone who wanted to take the easy way up. It was cut by someone who looked at the options, and decided it was now or never. And so, with each step we inched forward. Taking an agonisingly long time – the 1km sign was finally revealed. A bitter sweet moment – pleased to be making progress with a side of disbelief this meagre distance had taken 1.5hrs.

Keeping thoughts positive and morale high – we intentionally chose the conversation. 'It was not inaccessible – only tough. Gosh the hummus and crackers tasted good at that break. And thank goodness we started hiking at 7.30am' we mused. The journey was becoming a molten, yet fun adventure. Like walking into timeless world.

The rainforest was lush. Trunks of towering trees competing for light at the canopy. Staghorns hugging trunks, vines dancing between, palms reaching up towards the light, ferns carpeting the undergrowth. Birds hidden from view, singing with unbridled gusto. It felt nice not to be noticed. We were well and truly in the thick of it. A feeling of honour washed over as light filtered through the trees, completely surrounded by luminous green. I mused about how evolution has shaped this environment allowing species to fit niches in which they now occupy- in a dance together making up the fabric of the forest. This trail through the Daintree – the feeling of a ceasing of time. We were really in the wild.

We continued onwards and upwards – slimy hitchhikers wanting to attach to exposed flesh ensured few stops. Making steady progress, we continued with each rock, boulder, or tree root one step at a time. Physically, we are strong and capable women – though this was becoming a mental game. How had we only covered 3kms? How would we make it back down? Was this really a good idea after all? Yet amongst the discomfort – the beauty prevailed. The trail hugged the spur of the mountain - only 2m of rainforest with a steep drop either side into the valley below.

Edith contemplates the next leg

The waves of emotion flowed. We were not talking in conversation, rather singing praise to the vegetation, cursing the slope, pleading with Mother Nature to let this be the end of the trail. Finally, there was a change in the dynamic. The sweetness of reprieve in the form of a fern thicket at 800m high with views to the Coral Sea.

Opening into the Coral Fern grove

The joy of a gentler slope short lived, as the trail next took us again down into a valley. It seemed the summit was not going to give itself up to us so easily. Climbing up between the boulders of split rock, we pressed on becoming robotic versions of our formerly spritely selves. The final steps to the summit had arrived.

The final steps to the summit of Devils Thumb

Wobbly legs over a perfectly placed 5m high tree bridge at the top of the mountain, spider webs of strategically placed ropes for security, and we made it to the top. 1000m high, amongst a blanket of cloud, we shouted in joy and anguish to the distant peaks.

Freezing in the clouds! I'm sure on other days the view would be spectacular :)

Sliding back down the mountain in silence, teeth gritted, feet light, trusting as we moved with pace. What had felt like a relentless push upwards – now morphed into a downwards free fall. Knees singing, vision blurry, lungs grasping for breath, words of encouragement, waves of exhaustion and wonder. The final kilometre, feeling as if time was stretching itself out to make each step feel like 3, when finally we saw the sign. Yelling in disbelief – we had arrived. Boots off, quick steps and into the crisp deep swimming hole just a few meters from where we crossed on the way up. Barely noticing it on the first pass, on the return this water hole felt like a place surreal in nature. We felt what it was like to test our limits, to feel strength in determination and most importantly, to be completely immersed in nature.

There we floated, held by the chill of the water coming off the mountain, buoyant we had made it through this day. What an honour to venture into the heart of the rainforest.

If you are keen https://www.tropicalnorthqueensland.org.au/listing/product/devils-thumb-manjal-jimalji-trail/