With some level of reservation we set out from Somersby Falls & within five minutes I was questioning the reasoning & sanity behind coming along for the walk.
The reality of carrying 20 kilos sunk in pretty quick particularly when the pack listed like Titanic & began to fall apart at the seems.
I started cursing why I even considered such an act, but not being one for giving up on a commitment put to the task & was quickly consumed & overtaken by the beauty of the bush..
The two odd hours down to the Mooney Mooney camp site, being mostly downhill was reached without too much grief & a good night feed helped lift spirits & alleviate the aches caused by the backpack.
Archie not only provided lamb chops but a couple of beers which were like God’s nectar.
Only Ben’s paranoia about things that move in the bush & the drone of the F3 disturbed the tranquillity of that evening.
The removal of a hiking boot & blood soaked sock revealed an unwanted hitchhiker, a leech the size of an elephant’s trunk…….lucky to be alive!!!!
The next morning was greeted with a brisk shower as we started of but good fortune prevailed & the walk past the old Pacific Hwy, Mooney Mooney bridge, up along Piles Creek was magnificent with diverse landscapes & sub-temperate vegetation to match; I get into trouble for calling it pristine….. but it truly was!
Ben had several snack breaks & I reflected on kids going into Woolies at Easter & finding the shelves bare where Jo had been to stock up to sustain Ben’s rampant appetite.
The topography of the climb changed constantly all day & several references to the map left rise to some suspicion about the accuracy of the detail when we seem to go up & down a lot more times than was indicated on the maps contours.
It wasn’t long before these undulations combined with the quantity of steps twice the height of conventional, began to take some toll on our once high spirited party.
It was bad enough for normal sized people let alone someone the size of a Dwarf.
Upon reaching the ridge line of the Hawkesbury escarpment after making good speed all morning what was originally anticipated as an east stroll of approximately five kilometres & possibly one & half hours to our destination of Mt Woodabyne became more like three & a half hours with the track deviating beyond our expectation through further deep gullies & more ascents.
Upon reaching another ridge-top & a camp site perceived to be our goal our expectations were was dashed when a scout ahead revealed we were still short about three kilometres of our goal & with the Water Taxi pick-up at 11.30AM the next day from Patonga we knew that we couldn't’t afford to extend that following day’s commitment.
With much grumbling from myself (yes Coighty had a whinge or two) & cursing of the wretched map we decided to push on.
This was a test of fortitude & we knuckled down & made it with nightfall quickly approaching; a total of nine hours walking with minimal breaks.
Collectively we estimated that the three of us didn’t amount to the quantity of steps Dwarfie did that day.
Not since Gimli the Dwarf accompanied Frodo en-route to Mount Doom had a person of such stature travelled so far in one day!
Somehow after the days experience I felt cursed by Mt Wondabyne & considered it to be our own Mt Doom.
The nights meal was less salubrious with fatigue setting in & weary bodies sought the comfort of a rock bed-down with the sight of Brisbane Waters as a back-drop at the liberal time of 8.15PM.We really did do well to stay up that late!
The next day was not greeted with the brief shower like the previous day but intermittent squalls.
By now though our minds were set on making Patonga irrespective & we were supplemented by the thought of a beer at Brooklyn & from my part a coffee at Patonga.
I was easily persuaded to by-pass the last little stretch of the track down to Patonga & instead followed the lifeline of bitumen instead in the hope that this would get us quicker to the comforts of modern day life.
By now the legs & hips felt like they’d been on loan to a pile driving company, but none of us confessed to the extent of our discomfort & despite the weather s the thought of finishing buoyed us with good spirit.
Standing of the wharf at Patonga watching the fisherman feed the entrails of the mornings catch to a multitude of Pelicans crowded together in numbers as a defence against two magnificent swooping Hawks somehow put the last few days in perspective.
The trip always sounded great in theory but the difficulty’s can only be realised by those who actually participated.
As we headed home to civilisation with a longing for basic comforts & the hardships of the previous days already fading into memory I couldn’t help but feel that a piece of me had been left behind.
To my stoic companions who were brave in adversity & in particular to Dwarfie in achieving even part of was set ou……., you should all feel proud!
S.P.
(Alias Russell Coight)
The reality of carrying 20 kilos sunk in pretty quick particularly when the pack listed like Titanic & began to fall apart at the seems.
I started cursing why I even considered such an act, but not being one for giving up on a commitment put to the task & was quickly consumed & overtaken by the beauty of the bush..
The two odd hours down to the Mooney Mooney camp site, being mostly downhill was reached without too much grief & a good night feed helped lift spirits & alleviate the aches caused by the backpack.
Archie not only provided lamb chops but a couple of beers which were like God’s nectar.
Only Ben’s paranoia about things that move in the bush & the drone of the F3 disturbed the tranquillity of that evening.
The removal of a hiking boot & blood soaked sock revealed an unwanted hitchhiker, a leech the size of an elephant’s trunk…….lucky to be alive!!!!
The next morning was greeted with a brisk shower as we started of but good fortune prevailed & the walk past the old Pacific Hwy, Mooney Mooney bridge, up along Piles Creek was magnificent with diverse landscapes & sub-temperate vegetation to match; I get into trouble for calling it pristine….. but it truly was!
Ben had several snack breaks & I reflected on kids going into Woolies at Easter & finding the shelves bare where Jo had been to stock up to sustain Ben’s rampant appetite.
The topography of the climb changed constantly all day & several references to the map left rise to some suspicion about the accuracy of the detail when we seem to go up & down a lot more times than was indicated on the maps contours.
It wasn’t long before these undulations combined with the quantity of steps twice the height of conventional, began to take some toll on our once high spirited party.
It was bad enough for normal sized people let alone someone the size of a Dwarf.
Upon reaching the ridge line of the Hawkesbury escarpment after making good speed all morning what was originally anticipated as an east stroll of approximately five kilometres & possibly one & half hours to our destination of Mt Woodabyne became more like three & a half hours with the track deviating beyond our expectation through further deep gullies & more ascents.
Upon reaching another ridge-top & a camp site perceived to be our goal our expectations were was dashed when a scout ahead revealed we were still short about three kilometres of our goal & with the Water Taxi pick-up at 11.30AM the next day from Patonga we knew that we couldn't’t afford to extend that following day’s commitment.
With much grumbling from myself (yes Coighty had a whinge or two) & cursing of the wretched map we decided to push on.
This was a test of fortitude & we knuckled down & made it with nightfall quickly approaching; a total of nine hours walking with minimal breaks.
Collectively we estimated that the three of us didn’t amount to the quantity of steps Dwarfie did that day.
Not since Gimli the Dwarf accompanied Frodo en-route to Mount Doom had a person of such stature travelled so far in one day!
Somehow after the days experience I felt cursed by Mt Wondabyne & considered it to be our own Mt Doom.
The nights meal was less salubrious with fatigue setting in & weary bodies sought the comfort of a rock bed-down with the sight of Brisbane Waters as a back-drop at the liberal time of 8.15PM.We really did do well to stay up that late!
The next day was not greeted with the brief shower like the previous day but intermittent squalls.
By now though our minds were set on making Patonga irrespective & we were supplemented by the thought of a beer at Brooklyn & from my part a coffee at Patonga.
I was easily persuaded to by-pass the last little stretch of the track down to Patonga & instead followed the lifeline of bitumen instead in the hope that this would get us quicker to the comforts of modern day life.
By now the legs & hips felt like they’d been on loan to a pile driving company, but none of us confessed to the extent of our discomfort & despite the weather s the thought of finishing buoyed us with good spirit.
Standing of the wharf at Patonga watching the fisherman feed the entrails of the mornings catch to a multitude of Pelicans crowded together in numbers as a defence against two magnificent swooping Hawks somehow put the last few days in perspective.
The trip always sounded great in theory but the difficulty’s can only be realised by those who actually participated.
As we headed home to civilisation with a longing for basic comforts & the hardships of the previous days already fading into memory I couldn’t help but feel that a piece of me had been left behind.
To my stoic companions who were brave in adversity & in particular to Dwarfie in achieving even part of was set ou……., you should all feel proud!
S.P.
(Alias Russell Coight)
