Monday, September 19, 2005
a hike! a hike!
Earlier in the week I vowed I would get out of the city this weekend. I decided to make my first trip easy - Royal National Park is just south of the City and very accessible by public transit. I opted for the "Coast Track" since it is longish and you can get to both ends by train so I wouldn't have to retrace my steps. Also since there was the option to camp in the middle of it which I thought I would do even though it's only a 25km trail - just for the fun of it.
Things ended up going a bit differently than planned, which you already know if you have read my previous blog entry.
You see, it started with friday evening. Friday evening it poured. Though the forecast for Saturday was fine, it was hard to believe it at the time, especially being a westcoaster as I am and therefore skeptical of any weather forecasts (as it is turning out, Sydney forecasts seem to be in fact very good, but it's still hard to believe them sometimes). Anyhow, friday evening. I didn't really like the thought of setting my alarm for sometime before 7am on a weekend day, and it was raining and I didn't feel like packing (not that it would have been difficult given that I have so few things to pack), so I decided to just get up whenever I woke up in the morning and decide what to do then. But also I made plans to go see Charlie and The Chocolate Factory on Saturday night with my flatmate, so I guess I had already made up my mind.
You can refer to the blog entry below for what ended up happening on Saturday, so I will jump right to sunday now. Seeing as this post is supposed to be all about Sunday, it's about time I got to it anyhow.
Sunday. To get to the trailhead, I was to take a bus to a train to a ferry. The first ferry was at 8:30am. Which meant I ought to leave my house around a quarter past 6 in the morning. Accordingly, I set my alarm for some ridiculous hour. When it went off, I decided I wanted more sleep, so I snoozed for another half an hour. Surprisingly, especially since the trains had been replaced by busses due to track work, I still made it to Cronulla (that's cruh-NULL-uh, not CRON-you-lah - if you say it the second way, people will look at you like you're crazy) in time to see the 8:30 ferry pull away from the dock. The next one was at 9:30. So I wandered a little bit and had some juice.
The ferry ride was pretty, but rather cold in the wind when I stood up front. It was a lot like taking the Newcastle Island ferry. On the other side, I wasn't really sure where I was going, but I followed my nose and found the trailhead without any lengthy detours (which is more than I can say for my skill at finding my way home from work, even now that I have had a solid week of practice, but that's another story).
Up to this point, I had looked at a couple of not-especially-helpful trail maps online and that's about it, and I was rather hoping for some sort of information centre near the trailhead, although I new that the main information centre was at a different park entrance. Well, all I got was a big sign including a map behind slightly pock-marked, graffitied plexiglass at the trailhead. I studied it briefly, but since I only intended to hike the coast track (which I figured would be pretty easy to follow), I started off on my way.
About 50 metres up the trail I realized that I had with me both a digital camera and a journal, both of which could be used to produce some sort of portable reproduction of the map, just in case I wanted to refer to it later on. Wisely, I heeded the voice which told me to go back.
The trail was broad as were the vistas - on one side, endless shubbery (the more distant stuff was trees, but standing tall above the nearest ones made it all appear as bushes). On the other, blue water roared in great waves, pounding against white sandstone cliffs and into sandy beaches. The path itself was mostly along the sandstone where there was much freedom and the going was easy.
And so it continued.
It was beautiful. But it was all the same. The only wildlife I saw were birds (though there was a huge one and also many small ones with lovely songs - some of them sounded like they were whistling little tunes) and ants. Small ants and one big one. I have seen many ants before.
I wanted change. I wanted the chance to see a broader array of botanical specimens. Though I thought it unlikely so close to the city, I thought that just maybe if I got into the forest I might see something like a kangaroo. I wanted to take the road less-travelled, as the coast track was a bit of a highway.
Luckily, I had my map (I had taken pictures of it with the digital camera). And even more luckily, my examination of said map showed me that the trail branched very close to where I found myself at that point, which was at Eagle Rock. I had already covered about 15km of the 25km trail since my start a little after 10am, and it was only 1ish. I decided that I had time for the longer route to the train station at the town of Waterfall. (Even considering the risk factor of taking unknown trails on a map, which I have come to be rather distrustful of).
The first section of trail was not especially exciting - it led away from the coast and scrubland into groves of increasingly larger trees (though still not large enough to shade my aching eyes, leading to the creation of some interesting bandana headwear - I need to get some sunglasses!).
The next section was exciting, but only because it was along the side of the highway with cars flying by.
But then I turned off onto the Wallumarra Track. It was spectacular, and incredibly varied. It started off on a broad desertish plain where the scars of a fairly recent (well a few years ago now) forest fire were still quite evident. It then descended among huge hunks of granite into a first dry forest of eucalypts then to a greener land of big palms and tree ferns. There was a little bench at a stream crossing where you could sit and listen to the cries of the birds (and the occasional passing airplane since this wasn't so far from Sydney airport, but that doesn't fit into this picture, so we'll ignore it).
The cries of the birds. Some of them are downright terrifying. It's the pretty birds like the cockatoos and the parakeets that squak and screech like something horrible is happening to them. The little ones and those feathered in gray and black are the ones with the beautiful songs. At UNSW a couple of weeks ago, I walked through a grove of trees at sunset and was surrounded by a chorus of haunting sounds of a bevy of Australian Magpies (they're not so ugly in fact) - it was amazing.
But on this part of the walk it was cockatoos that prevailed. I shrieked up at one as I passed under its tree and it sqwaked back at me indignantly.
Still I was not at the end of my hike. My legs were rather weary by this time, but the trails were still mostly easy, and so I carried on. I had come to the last segment - the Couranga Track which would lead me up to Waterfall. The sun began to sink lower in the sky, which meant it glared directly into my eyes as I walked westward (at least I knew I was still on track!).
I started to hear more noises in the bush around me. And suddenly, I heard a loud sort of thump. And another, behind me. I froze and brought my hand up to try to block the sun so I could see. Another step forward, and another thumping - I spotted it! A cute little wallaby looked back at me, before a final thump and a hop as he scurried away.
That really made the hike complete. I kept my ears open the rest of the way to the train/bus station, but was not so lucky as to see another.
As if I had not had a fabulous day already, a friendly-looking fellow came to wait for the bus with me. He read the back of my tshirt and discovered that I was an ultimate player - turns out he too is into frisbees; in fact, he claimed to be quite a good disc golf player from Sweden. He lamented that there is very little in the way of disc golf here in Australia - in the first tournament he went to, there were only 8 competitors! So we talked about discs and such things and I said I would be happy to play disc golf, which I will be doing tomorrow afternoon and again in a tournament at the start of October! Hooray for new things to do and with new people too!
I have put a few pictures from the hike in my gallery - enjoy!
Things ended up going a bit differently than planned, which you already know if you have read my previous blog entry.
You see, it started with friday evening. Friday evening it poured. Though the forecast for Saturday was fine, it was hard to believe it at the time, especially being a westcoaster as I am and therefore skeptical of any weather forecasts (as it is turning out, Sydney forecasts seem to be in fact very good, but it's still hard to believe them sometimes). Anyhow, friday evening. I didn't really like the thought of setting my alarm for sometime before 7am on a weekend day, and it was raining and I didn't feel like packing (not that it would have been difficult given that I have so few things to pack), so I decided to just get up whenever I woke up in the morning and decide what to do then. But also I made plans to go see Charlie and The Chocolate Factory on Saturday night with my flatmate, so I guess I had already made up my mind.
You can refer to the blog entry below for what ended up happening on Saturday, so I will jump right to sunday now. Seeing as this post is supposed to be all about Sunday, it's about time I got to it anyhow.
Sunday. To get to the trailhead, I was to take a bus to a train to a ferry. The first ferry was at 8:30am. Which meant I ought to leave my house around a quarter past 6 in the morning. Accordingly, I set my alarm for some ridiculous hour. When it went off, I decided I wanted more sleep, so I snoozed for another half an hour. Surprisingly, especially since the trains had been replaced by busses due to track work, I still made it to Cronulla (that's cruh-NULL-uh, not CRON-you-lah - if you say it the second way, people will look at you like you're crazy) in time to see the 8:30 ferry pull away from the dock. The next one was at 9:30. So I wandered a little bit and had some juice.
The ferry ride was pretty, but rather cold in the wind when I stood up front. It was a lot like taking the Newcastle Island ferry. On the other side, I wasn't really sure where I was going, but I followed my nose and found the trailhead without any lengthy detours (which is more than I can say for my skill at finding my way home from work, even now that I have had a solid week of practice, but that's another story).
Up to this point, I had looked at a couple of not-especially-helpful trail maps online and that's about it, and I was rather hoping for some sort of information centre near the trailhead, although I new that the main information centre was at a different park entrance. Well, all I got was a big sign including a map behind slightly pock-marked, graffitied plexiglass at the trailhead. I studied it briefly, but since I only intended to hike the coast track (which I figured would be pretty easy to follow), I started off on my way.
About 50 metres up the trail I realized that I had with me both a digital camera and a journal, both of which could be used to produce some sort of portable reproduction of the map, just in case I wanted to refer to it later on. Wisely, I heeded the voice which told me to go back.
The trail was broad as were the vistas - on one side, endless shubbery (the more distant stuff was trees, but standing tall above the nearest ones made it all appear as bushes). On the other, blue water roared in great waves, pounding against white sandstone cliffs and into sandy beaches. The path itself was mostly along the sandstone where there was much freedom and the going was easy.
And so it continued.
It was beautiful. But it was all the same. The only wildlife I saw were birds (though there was a huge one and also many small ones with lovely songs - some of them sounded like they were whistling little tunes) and ants. Small ants and one big one. I have seen many ants before.
I wanted change. I wanted the chance to see a broader array of botanical specimens. Though I thought it unlikely so close to the city, I thought that just maybe if I got into the forest I might see something like a kangaroo. I wanted to take the road less-travelled, as the coast track was a bit of a highway.
Luckily, I had my map (I had taken pictures of it with the digital camera). And even more luckily, my examination of said map showed me that the trail branched very close to where I found myself at that point, which was at Eagle Rock. I had already covered about 15km of the 25km trail since my start a little after 10am, and it was only 1ish. I decided that I had time for the longer route to the train station at the town of Waterfall. (Even considering the risk factor of taking unknown trails on a map, which I have come to be rather distrustful of).
The first section of trail was not especially exciting - it led away from the coast and scrubland into groves of increasingly larger trees (though still not large enough to shade my aching eyes, leading to the creation of some interesting bandana headwear - I need to get some sunglasses!).
The next section was exciting, but only because it was along the side of the highway with cars flying by.
But then I turned off onto the Wallumarra Track. It was spectacular, and incredibly varied. It started off on a broad desertish plain where the scars of a fairly recent (well a few years ago now) forest fire were still quite evident. It then descended among huge hunks of granite into a first dry forest of eucalypts then to a greener land of big palms and tree ferns. There was a little bench at a stream crossing where you could sit and listen to the cries of the birds (and the occasional passing airplane since this wasn't so far from Sydney airport, but that doesn't fit into this picture, so we'll ignore it).
The cries of the birds. Some of them are downright terrifying. It's the pretty birds like the cockatoos and the parakeets that squak and screech like something horrible is happening to them. The little ones and those feathered in gray and black are the ones with the beautiful songs. At UNSW a couple of weeks ago, I walked through a grove of trees at sunset and was surrounded by a chorus of haunting sounds of a bevy of Australian Magpies (they're not so ugly in fact) - it was amazing.
But on this part of the walk it was cockatoos that prevailed. I shrieked up at one as I passed under its tree and it sqwaked back at me indignantly.
Still I was not at the end of my hike. My legs were rather weary by this time, but the trails were still mostly easy, and so I carried on. I had come to the last segment - the Couranga Track which would lead me up to Waterfall. The sun began to sink lower in the sky, which meant it glared directly into my eyes as I walked westward (at least I knew I was still on track!).
I started to hear more noises in the bush around me. And suddenly, I heard a loud sort of thump. And another, behind me. I froze and brought my hand up to try to block the sun so I could see. Another step forward, and another thumping - I spotted it! A cute little wallaby looked back at me, before a final thump and a hop as he scurried away.
That really made the hike complete. I kept my ears open the rest of the way to the train/bus station, but was not so lucky as to see another.
As if I had not had a fabulous day already, a friendly-looking fellow came to wait for the bus with me. He read the back of my tshirt and discovered that I was an ultimate player - turns out he too is into frisbees; in fact, he claimed to be quite a good disc golf player from Sweden. He lamented that there is very little in the way of disc golf here in Australia - in the first tournament he went to, there were only 8 competitors! So we talked about discs and such things and I said I would be happy to play disc golf, which I will be doing tomorrow afternoon and again in a tournament at the start of October! Hooray for new things to do and with new people too!
I have put a few pictures from the hike in my gallery - enjoy!
Subscribe to: Posts (Atom)