The Pinnacle Walk is the walk to do in Halls Gap. The one walk you must do if you only have time for one walk. It doesn’t take long to discover that anyone who is anyone, is doing the Walk today. Parked cars are strung out down the narrow road leading to the official parking area. We duly tag on to the end of the line, don our trail shoes, stock up with water, and set off. We aren’t exactly early, so we expect to see more foot traffic coming down than going up.

Distances are deceptive around here. The sign says it is a mere 2 km to the top, something we’d normally knock off in a brisk 20 minutes or a leisurely 30 minutes.  But most of the trail involves walking over rock. And walking uphill. And there are so many things to stop for. Time disappears. We have all day so why rush it?

The first section crosses the lower sections of the Elephant Hide, following small yellow arrowheads which indicate the way. Always up.  Past the Grand Canyon (where later Ian sees his second snake for the weekend), gaping at the amazing formations and towering cliffs. On to the timbered section with hewn rock steps, ever climbing.  The rock here is jaw-dropping in size and scale. Past an enormous overhang, creating a cool dark cavern.  Past the Bridalveil Falls, which some walkers use as a cooling shower.  Onto the next section of Elephant Hide, across creeks, more open vistas. Is that the top we can see?

Down some rough wooden stairs and into Silent Street, an ever-narrowing canyon filled with boulders.  A tight squeeze, less than shoulder width, right at the end, before emerging out of the crevasse. The final push, a bit of scrambling.  We’re there!

The actual Pinnacle is a narrow outcrop, slightly higher than the multitude of similar vantage points, and fenced off. It is crowded with posing people. No physical distancing up here, as we nudge our way briefly onto the highest step, cling to the rail, and peer gingerly over the edge – a sheer and terrifying drop. I don’t linger. Ian snaps a photo from below to record the occasion. There are people dotted all over the place, like goats.  If this is The Pinnacle minus international visitors, I would hate to see what it looks like when the busloads are there.

We find a rocky perch to eat lunch, trying to get some shelter from the wind.  A gaggle of crop-top clad girls is posing nearby. They take it in turns to pout, toss their hair, fling an arm randomly skyward, and smile winningly for their followers.  After “the session” is finished, they spend ages checking the photos on their phones, and congratulating themselves on the outcome. Apparently, looking good on screen has made the whole effort worth while. I don’t see any of them, at any point, look at the view. I fear for the human race.

Eventually we head down, down, retracing the route. Back through the squeezy bit. Follow the arrowheads in reverse. Pause at the waterfall. Gaze again at the massive cliffs. Knees are feeling the descent, and toes are jamming in shoes. But at least we can breathe.  Several hours after starting out, we are back at the bottom, more than satisfied, and not having taken a single selfie.  If there is one walk you must do in The Grampians, this is it.

The best part of the day is early evening, and we head to Lake Bellfield, to walk across the dam wall. From here you have a good view of the ranges on both sides of the valley. The water level is remarkably low; the wet summer doesn’t seem to have helped much.

Our final stop is Silverband Falls. As we follow a dry creekbed upstream, we wonder if there are any falls to see. There is evidence of long-ago flooding. The track meanders gently, lined with tall timbers. We can hear water now, and are surprised to see how high these pretty falls are.  We are standing at the bottom of a steep canyon.  The water disappears underground as it hits the rock at the bottom.  It emerges briefly further downstream, to form a few placid waterholes.  The eucalypt leaves shimmer in the glowing evening light.

Don’t let anyone tell you there is only one walk to do in The Grampians. Do as many as you can.