The June long weekend rolled around and a number of us were keen to leave the climbers to their rocks, and set off down an old, historic route. The 6-foot track is a 40 odd kilometer track that runs from the Blue Mountains town of Katoomba to the historic and very scenic Jenolan Caves. Every year a marathon is run along its length, but we were content to complete the task is a steady 2 and a half days. Our plan was to leave Sydney on an early train on Saturday morning to get to Katoomba. Under pain of panther mauling, everyone was instructed to purchase a bus ticket to return to Katoomba, from the caves, at 3:00pm on Monday.
Dave, Giordano and I met at central station and awaited the arrival of Nicola and Mike before boarding the train. With time running dangerously short, we boarded the train without any sign of the other two. As the doors slowly closed behind us, we thought that the trip had ended before it had already begun. A phone call to Nicola told us they they were both in last carriage of the train - phew!. We waddled our way through 3 carriages to reach the final car, but no sign of them! Dave Giordano and I all looked at each other and pondered the possibility that they had gotten on the wrong train!
'Surely not though, they said they jumped on at platform 12, right?'
I decided to leave my pack with the other two and scout the other end of train. After tracking back through 6 carriages to the front of the train, to my relief, I found them safe and well. I then returned for others and my pack.
We left the train at Katoomba and immediately had to add anouther layer. The morning air could not have been more than a crisp 8 degrees. Some questioned whether they had brought appropriate clothing - it did make for very pleasant walking though. After Dave and I had gotten over just how impractically small Nicola's pack was (actually, we never really did get over this), we left Katoomba, heading west on the Great Western Highway. After passing the remnants of the Explorers Tree, we found our way to the start of the track and a very nice lookout at the top of Nellies Glen.
We plunged into the valley and had to strip the layer we had just donned. The decent through the glen saw the temperature rise a good 5 degrees
We trekked along the fire trail, heading deeper into the megalong valley for about 2 to 3 hours before we met some friendly horses and the running joke for our trip, the Adventure Tour Group (ATG). The ATG was a commercial group that paid $500 for the privileged of being babysat along a walk so well signposted a blind man couldn't get lost. Much to our disgust (jealousy) they didn't have to carry anything, save some water and a rain jacket. I'm sure they had a very pleasant trip though.
The five of us continued along the track until we crossed a stream just before the Megalong Valley road. I liked the spot so much I insisted we stop and have lunch there! It wasn't hard to pursued them.
After lunch we crossed the road and took some time to expand our minds at the information sign before we set off into Angus beef territory. Dave and I contemplated stopping at the winery that was signposted along the track, to pick up a delicious Merlot to accompany our dinner of pasta, which was waiting for us at camp. We took our time to stop and admire a rather photogenic fence post, and enjoyed watching some stock-men and their aerobatic dogs herd some cattle into an adjacent field - seriously, one of these dogs clear jumped over a 5 foot fence!.
We left the cattle fields and started our decent toward the Cox's river. After a lecture on Blue Mountains Geology from me, we found ourselves staring at a beautiful V1 split running up through a giant boulder. We all took some time to play around before we set off again, bound for the swing bridge. One by one, we filed across the bridge, Mike valiantly facing his fear of heights, after Dave tested the 'structural integrity' by shaking it wildly as he crossed. From there it was a short 10 minute walk down to our campsite.
Fortunately for us, Dave brought the circus with him, ensuring family fun for everyone! We settled in for the evening, and after Mike and Giordano wrestled with the Whisper light stove, we all had our dinners - pasta for Dave Nicola and I, and Mi Goreng for Giordano and Mike. During the night, we were visited by a possum who snuck up on me while I went to pee. I was able to get my camera out and snap and pretty good photo, before he ran back up into his tree. Before bed, we had a few games of cards and joked about how stupid the ATG were - especially the women in the flouro hi-vis shirt!.
As to be expected on trips like this, certain items were forgotten - things left at home in a flurry of packing. On this trip, it was a sleeping mat, for both Nicola and Mike. A cold, uncomfortable night awaited both them.
The next morning we broke camp and reconciled ourselves with the fact that we would be spending the next 4 hours walking up hill - almost 1000m of hill to be exact. After slamming down my, in hindsight quite heavy, breakfast of 3 up and go's, we set off just after 9am. The ATG, without the burden of needing to pull down tents or make breakfast for themselves, managed to sneak off about 15 minutes before us. A lead that they would soon concede.
The features of the day were up hill and dirt bikes, neither of which were in short supply. Dave and I passed the time over a discussion of the state of Australian rugby union and the scandal that surrounded the Lions Tour. The discussion gave way to 'The Picnic Game' and various other mind games / riddles. Ask yourself, what are you bringing to my picnic? I'll be bringing deviled eggs!
Just prior to the final (and biggest) hill of the day, we had to negotiate a number of creek crossings. I.E. we had to cross the same meandering creek three times. Fortunately, we all made it across dry. Unfortunately, a British women in the group just in front of us, didn't.
The hill was long and un-releanting. The tight pack that we had been walking in for the past day and half had thinned out to form a determined ant-line. Eventually, worn out and sweaty, we made it to the top and had some well deserved lunch. By the time we had all eaten, and were just about ready to head off again, I noticed something behind a tree in the bushes. I went over to investigate and found a big pile of camping chairs - 1 for every person in ATG. Lucky Bastards!
After we finished lunch, with tired legs and sore backs, we resolved to finish the last 7-10km, and walk into black mountain camp site with our heads held high. The track that led from the top of hill was flat, monotonous, open fire trail, and to perfectly honest, I really don't have a lot to say about it. This whole section of trail has blurred into one in my mind. The only notable stand out is when we past passed the junction of anouther fire trail, with the comical name of "Beefsteak Creek Fire Trail".
We walked into camp some time around 3 pm. It was already getting chilly, and with no intention of being cold for a second night in a row, Mike immediately began gathering thatching on which to pitch his tent. The rest of us thought he was gathering wood for a fire, and none of us had the heart to tell him that we weren't aloud to have them at this camp site. Eventually we did tell him, but only after he had amassed a rather large pile. It was then that his intentions became clear to the rest of us.
After the sun set it got really F'ing cold and, sign be dammed, we resolved to build a fire. Our British friends, who we had met on the track early that day, were all to happy to help us collect wood and share in the radiant warmth. Curious thing about fires though, particularly on cold nights, is they tend to attract things that you don't expect. Tonight's catch was a particularly grumpy man, who went by the name of Carl. Carl was not a fit man, in fact I think this may well have been his first overnight expedition. In his mind, the only thing worse than the pain in his feet, was the emptiness of his rum bottle. The only thing that did seem to cheer him up, was talking about Game of Thrones. After a while, the temperature had dropped considerably, and with wood stocks waning, we all decided to go to bed.
I should mention that while were thinking about bed around the fire, a late group rolled into camp at about 7pm. By this time is was dark, cold and oppressive. When we all decided to go to be at about 8pm, they had managed to set up their tent quite close to ours, and as we crawled into bed, we could hear a faint sobbing coming from nearby the tent. Some time later, I swear I head someone say "If you cry one more time, I am going to shoot you". When we saw the skinny white guy, and the fat black girl who crawled out of the tent the next morning, a lot of things made sense. We didn't see them again until the bus on Monday afternoon
The next morning, we were greeted by a grumpy Carl, who was just setting off as we were dismantling out tents. We told to him to 'have a nice day', to which is sharply replied "Have a nice day?!" in a tone that could only be described as disbelief. We finished packing up and, once again, did not manage to get away before the ATG.
With only 10km to walk that day before 3pm, were weren't exactly in a hurry. The morning was cold so a few of us left camp wearing some extra layers. After only a few kilometers, these extra layers had to come off. We continued along the trail with sore legs and feet, spirits buoyed by our imminent arrival at the caves and the promise of a hot pie! After all the threats I had made about a panther eating anyone who didn't buy a bus ticket, were exposed to be a lie, finding a sign that said 'No Panthers' heading down into Jenolan proved to be quite amusing.
After a leisurely 2 and a half hours of walking, we found or way down to Jenolan house, just in time to escape the imminent rain storm - we made it, to Dave's delight, with only minutes to spare. We crowded into a tiny corner in Jenolan house, ordered a pile of hot food and settled in for our 3 hour wait for the bus. With phone reception, Dave and I both sent text messages, abusing Alex for loaning Nicola a pack that was far to small for a 3 day walk. She was not impressed.
With about an hour before the bus was leaving, we had mustered the strength and enthusiasm to explore the area. We made our way to aptly named 'Blue Lake' where we found a platypus diving for food at the base of the dam wall. I was very excited!
At 3pm, we piled onto the bus for our journey back to Katoomba and , ultimately, Sydney. A traffic jam, caused by a bus trying come down into the caves, meant that we missed not only the 4:20pm train, but also the 5:20pm trian, by the narrowest margin! With an hour to wait for the next train, we went and sunk a few beers at the pub.
Good times were had by all. Except for Carl. He was a cunt.
Date: 08/6/2013 – 10/6/2013