I really tried to prepare and plan for this walk. Not everything went to plan but the goal was achieved.
The start point at Wondabyne is far enough from Sydney to justify a motel in Brooklyn on the Hawksbury River for the Sunday night. Over 120mm of rain had fallen during the day prior to the walk and the rail tracks were flooded. I sat on the train at Central Station Sydney for two hours and finally arrived with a few minutes to spare before the only restaurant in town closed. But I got there.
No roads lead to Wondabyne
More nerves the next morning but the train arrived on time for the 7 minute ride to Wondabyne. Wondabyne is the only train station in Australia without a road connection. It’s on the river and most locals alighting from the train continue their journeys via their own boats. Passengers need to sit in the rear carriage and inform the guard they wish to get off. Otherwise, it does not stop.
It is all uphill from Wondabyne and the track had become a waterfall. I reverted to my childhood tunnel ball skills. Legs spread and dolly steps to keep the feet dry. A slow and tiring start. As I got to higher ground the surface was less sodden but the skies decided to test my umbrella – a few times. It works.
It was pleasant to be in high open heath country, with easy dry walking over a flat rock platform. The problem is it’s easy to lose the direction on the trackless rock. Some helpful souls have made scrapings to keep us on track. I suspect an environmentalist might have a fierce discussion with these helpful vandals. The scrapes likely increase the rate of erosion, so somewhere between 8 million and 70 million years from now, north Sydney may have its own Grand Canyon. I am not sure where I stand in this debate. Lets just say I was happy not to lose my way in the mist and add more distance to my walk.
This story is part of our Australian Back Roads & Remote Travel series. Read more here.
Rule breaker, adrenalin junkie or just plain dumb
My walking notes warned that after heavy rain some rivers may be impassable. Here is what I experienced:
- Crossing 1. Rushing fast but not too wide. Shoes off and tied around my neck. Pants rolled up and over. No problem.
- Crossing 2. This would have been easy had I removed my shoes again. But it had already been a delayed start and I was getting sick of it. By moving three large rocks I created stepping stones and I enjoyed the next few minutes of smugness enjoying my cleverness.
- Crossing 3 (the featured picture for the article). A narrow log traversed the stream with a tree branch half way over. Trusty stick was used for balance and after a few wobbles I got there.
- Crossing 4. The next river was very wide, about 80 metres. The notes directed me to a flat area with many rock pools where a crossing could be made. I found the spot and on a drier day there would certainly be rockpools. But not today. Far away on the other side was a GNW marker. Boots and trousers off and again relying on stick mate to gauge depth. Pride comes before a fall. On the last step I fell forward and my arms and boots got wet. Thankfully my pack was spared.
Sights that amused me
On a walk, some write comments in lock boxes. Some contribute to rock cairns. I appreciate those unusual folk who go the extra mile to make me smile.
The Kettle in the Tree. This kettle overlooks a fireplace. Passing walkers are invited to brew a coffee or just admire it as art.
The Wheelbarrow on the Rock. I pondered its utility. If children were on the walk they could be amused by enjoying rides. Perhaps the wheelbarrow provides cairn aficionados a means to transport larger stones. I was just pleased to pause and accept it as the piece of art it is.
Decrepit Houseboats. In days of yore along the Mooney Mooney River most residents thought it a swell idea to own a houseboat. Possibly to provide a retreat from visitors. At some stage they collectively decided that houseboats were no longer in vogue. All houses now display a rotting houseboat hulk and even new home owners acquire an old boat as a sign of willingness to adapt to the accepted norms of river society.
A familiar sight from a different perspective
Newcastle born and residing in Sydney, I have crossed the Mooney Mooney Bridge many times at 110kmh. Walking the Mooney Mooney River, it was a treat to get up close for more than a fleeting moment to admire this magnificent structure.
Thoughts that amuse me
A pleasure of walking is the time to think. Sometimes my thoughts are deep and reflective of important issues. Sometimes they are meditative nonsense. Some thoughts are original, others I’m sure are deep memories of anecdotes of even ‘Dear Abby’ help columns that emerge to make me smile. These are some of my musings enroute to Somersby.
- National Disability Insurance Scheme. It is crippling us. Unfortunately, many people seem to think that if you are not individually or as part of your business receiving a financial benefit from the NDIS, you are a fool.
- Apologies. When apologising to a friend feign ignorance of what you did, then you are not really apologising at all.
- Personal Behaviour. Lately many countries ignore international law. If they won’t abide, why should I? Its time to start doing whatever the hell I want.
Somersby – A lot can occur in a day
I arrived in Somersby, having covered 26 kilometres over some wet and challenging terrain and ascending 1160 metres.
There being no accommodation available in Somersby, I had arranged an AirBNB in Narara, 16km away. My AirBNB host, Ashok, picked me up in his black Jag with a promise to return me the following day to walk onward to Yarramalong. While I was earbashing Ashok about my fatigue he quietly mentioned he had done some walking himself. Darwin to Canberra! I shut up pretty quick. Ashok’s adventure is available at here and he is on a select list of those who have traversed Australia. See this site.
A lot can happen in a day. Arriving at Narara I was joined by my walking companion Jono Lewis. Jono will report on our adventures the following day from Somersby to Yarramalong. To be continued.
Muz lives in Sydney. When not conducting investigations he divides his time between travel adventures, backgammon, family and luring dumb fish to their demise.