Somersby to Yarramalong – Another Tough Day’s Walk

Jono joins Muz for the second day of the walk and experiences highs and lows, ups and downs. And plenty of leeches.


A call from Muz confirmed a two-day adventure was on. I couldn’t make the first day due to a prior engagement to see Swedish punk band Viagra Boys. Coincidentally, my favourite song of theirs is called ‘Worms’. We were to encounter many ‘worms’ on our trek from Narara to Yarramalong.

I recently found out that a worm (taxonomy class Clitellata) is effectively a cylindrical taste bud. It was to be a tasty walk as we encountered an astounding number of cylindrical taste buds in the form of leeches – nasty relatives to the segmented worms we find in our gardens.

Our AirBNB host and main man Ashok drove us to our start point at Somersby.  I was mildly hungover and should not have swilled half my water on the drive. But Muz was raring to go. Everyone needs a spark plug in their hiking group.

Easy steps initially, crisp, sun shining and head soothing. The first signpost promised tranquillity –  sandstone, rivers, and a pleasant walk.

All downhill for 20 minutes to the first creek and that’s where the leeches began to take hold. Before the day was through, I lost three walking sticks which was mostly the leeches’ fault as I struck at them or they carried them away.  Maybe it also had to do with me absentmindedly leaving said sticks at various locations.

We defeated the leech masses and arrived at Ourimbah Creek Road. Beautiful bitumen, solid and dry underfoot. The farmhouses were lovely. One was named after the valley itself – Hidden Valley. All the houses were high on the hills, as flooding is a big risk.  The weather was good and we enjoyed the gentle valley stroll.

Our solitude was briefly interrupted by an amplified, smooth American voice. Turns out someone has a job armed with a microphone ringside coaching people how to ride horses. Who even knew that was a career option? Wonder if it pays well?

Hidden Valley farm on a misty morning.
Hidden Valley estate. Beautiful spot on a misty morning.
Jono Lewis on the Great North Walk.
Jono with flask and one of his several walking sticks.

On Muz’s advice I had packed an umbrella, which honestly is a great piece of advice for hiking. Way better than a raincoat – not steamy and no need to repack the wet item. I thanked Muz after a few light showers.

Easy living on the road for about 3kms. I filled my water bottle in a clear creek, treated it with iodine, and definitely did not leave my walking stick there. Well maybe I did.

Into the forest and we had a great chat with the owner of Forty Acres. He was grading his driveway (a few kilometres) and bemoaning that it was really the job of the local council, State Forests, Bushfire Brigade or the Gosford Women’s Bowling Club. We nodded solemnly in agreement and promised to write a letter to these errant organisations. In response to our complaints of leeches he affirmed leeches were the sign of a clean environment. I love the environment but his statement left me with uncomfortable and contradictory thoughts. Not wishing to cause offence we smiled in agreement and parted.

This story is part of our Australian Back Roads & Remote Travel series. Read more here.

Hidden Valley farm on a misty morning.
Muz on the trail.
Jono Lewis on the Great North Walk.
Jono communing with nature, hippy style.

A bit farther on we made a fortuitous error. We continued into Forty Acres rather than turning left on to the Cedar Brush Track. Forty Acres is a private campsite and although an unwitting trespasser, I got to fill up my water bottle from a real tap so I didn’t get dysentery. Massive win, gotta celebrate those. Additionally, there were real toilets available, with a view and all. Jackpot!

We had misplaced the guidebook page that related to our current position, but we had my brand new compass, Muz’s feverish orienteering skills and true grit, so we marched on into the glorious unknown. Actually, we were going in the right direction but on the wrong track. We were on a gravel fire road. Steep but dry and shady.

We figured things out and found that our misstep had circumvented more leech territory, with the price being paid in full with 45 degree hills.  I tried to be positive, but to be honest, I had no reference or experience of the ramifications of adding extra kilometres to an already long day. Muz had been down that garden path before and was less concerned. After some effort we linked up with the Cedar Brush trail.

A cup of tea tasted better knowing our location again. Down through more lecherous territory, but we were armed with tropical strength repellent on our boots and it staved most of them off – I felt like a true bush person!

Leech bites on Jono's leg during the Great North Walk.
Leech bites. They don’t hurt, but the blood flow can wreck socks and trousers.

We emerged from the forest onto Cherry Lane. Make sure you have your stick on Cherry Lane, as we were accosted by dogs that should have been tied up. All’s well, we emerged as top dogs.

We rested and I had another stick stolen by the Clitellata. They are cunning little characters. Or maybe I forgot to pick it up. Third stick down. This was my fault, I’ll admit it. I found a new one fairly quickly.

I am a ‘sweaty betty’ at the best of times, and I was perspiring like a hippie at Woodstock. A waterfall provided my final water resupply for the day and a cool fresh shower.

The last few kilometres seemed endless. 32kms with 1100m ascent is a tough day. But we had adventures, had rain, were attacked by wild things, and solved some problems enroute. Yarramalong (population 329) here we come. The lovely Helen (our AirBNB host) greeted us, and sent us scampering to the liquor store, which was closing soon, for some cold rewards.

The next day Helen (what an angel) drove us to Wyong station and two fatigued mates dozed the hour or so back to Sydney. Great times with Muz and Jono on tour.

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