Normally I go on my bushwalks alone. This isn't due to some manic streak of isolationism, rather its due to the fact that the only person I know who periodically hurls herself at the great outdoors for fun happens to live in Tasmania. Or so I thought. As it happens two of my more geographically convenient friends also enjoy a wander through the bush. After approximately eighteen months of coordination attempts we finally agreed to meet yesterday and walk around the Manly dam area. A barbecue was promised to the survivors.
One of my friends lives in Freshwater (note for the elderly, Freshwater is what Harbord calls itself now that the property values have risen) which was a convenient jumping off point so we turned up for a couple of hours traipsing amongst trees. Sadly upon arrival we were informed that the track around Manly dam was so waterlogged that we would need a boat so it was decided to walk around North Head instead. I also learned that there was a definite time limit attached to the walk as there were various football games this afternoon which were the real reason for the barbecue. I pointed out I wasn't interested in football, they pointed out they would happily abandon me to the elements if I didn't keep up.
Speaking of elements they were providing a much better reason to wrap the walking up as quickly as possible. A grey sky was rapidly turning to black and rain threatened. Since this walk involves two other people I feel obliged to introduce them as quickly as possible. They say a person can be judged by the quality of his friends so without further ado permit me to introduce a semi retired merchant banker and borderline psychopath (that is he's standing just over the border looking back) and a property developer who lives up to the standards of ethics and integrity one would expect of someone in his profession.
I rarely bushwalk with others and it rapidly became obvious why. The moaning, carping and complaining were outrageous. Frankly I don't know how they put up with me. With leaden skies above and a moisture laden wind promising to rapidly become more moisture than wind we set off. Almost immediately I stopped to take a photo.
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| The photo I stopped to take |
When I looked around after taking the aforementioned photo I realised I was alone. Catching up with my friends I mentioned that I liked to stop to take photos from time to time. They replied that they didn't. In fact the presence of my camera was greeted with something akin to disbelief. Didn't I have a phone? Why was I taking photos? Do I do that sort of thing often? At this point its probably worth pointing out that they never read this blog which is why I feel completely comfortable in trashing their reputation with the descriptions I provided above.
We continued climbing up to the top of North Head at a pace it must be admitted that was faster than I'm used to. My friends essentially bushwalk for reasons of fitness and probably would be just as happy walking through a housing estate. Nevertheless the property developer made an effort to point out things he thought would be of interest to me such as the abandoned gun emplacements and the convict built wall which date from North Head's time as a military installation.
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| A convict built wall, probably |
The long history of a military presence is the reason why we still have such a generous chunk of semi undisturbed bushland so close to Sydney. Even the most enthusiastic property developer will have difficulty selling houses sitting under a rain of artillery shells. Now the military have left and somehow a conservation group managed to get in before anybody else noticed. They now protect and reintroduce native wildlife that had previously been eradicated from the area. Despite this noble work the most visible sign of their presence is references to an animal they are eagerly trying to deintroduce. Signs everywhere warn of traps, baits and other methods of attempting to rid the area of foxes. They must be having some success, I didn't see a single fox on the entire walk.
The day, as noted, was grey and heading towards rain (quite rapidly as it happened) which was the ideal weather for the terrain. This wasn't an area of tall standing trees but rather scrub, bush, low trees and quite a lot of water. Hanging swamps abounded (walkways had been thoughtfully placed so that we didn't get our shoes wet although one suspects they're trying to protect the swamp more than us) and a general air of bleak desolation (of which I am quite fond) abounded.
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| There is very little to stop the water falling into the sea |
Of course no area is so desolate that it isn't habit for the occasional brush turkey. I'm becoming more and more fond of these birds. They are rapidly becoming the new ibis. One considerately posed for a photo but turned its security on me when I asked for an autograph.
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| A brush turkey and, surrounding it, brush |
I fled the brush turkey's security which at least enabled me to catch up with my companions who had as usual steamed ahead. Of course context is everything. If either of them had a blog they would no doubt be recounting tales of a vigorous walk spoiled by a whiny laggard sniveling and stopping to take photos of fungus. Speaking of fungus...
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| The Clare McIntyre memorial fungus |
Now that we had reached something like the top of North Head a terrain of grasses, weeds, stubby bushes and glistening water stretched out before us. Something else that stretched out before us was the metal grating we were obviously expected to walk on. I trotted along behind my, well companions isn't quite the right word at this point. We came to a spot where the metal grating had sunk into the swamp and a second metal grating had been dropped on top of it. This excited more interest from my comp... associates than any of the scenery or surrounding views as they discussed whether it was cheaper to simply drop another grating on top of the original as opposed to taking the first one away. I took the opportunity to gasp for breath and photograph something more interesting, pretty much anything in fact (although I did include some grating for the sake of balance).
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| Swamp with added grating |
On one of the more solid pieces of ground we examined a gun position which had once housed a 9.4 inch artillery piece but doesn't anymore. Others were examining it too and one of those had a takeaway coffee cup in his hand. Politely I asked where he got the coffee and was directed to a small restaurant about ten minutes down the road. There was much eye rolling but eventually my friends agreed that I would be slightly less irritating if I wasn't crazed with caffeine withdrawal and we popped in for a coffee. At least I did. I was the only one with any money, I asked if they wanted anything and was greeted with a chorus of refusals that lasted until I had paid for my coffee at which point they changed their minds. A cinnamon scroll was divided between the three of us (yes, I'm cheap) and we headed back to the grey outdoors.
Music assailed us as we headed forth and we proceeded in some confusion until we reached a fenced off area from which the aforementioned aural assault emanated. Within the fencing were rows of chairs already damp and soon to be totally soaked and a stage. There were no performers on the stage and no audience although the music indicated that preparations were being made for both. The property developer seemed keen to chat with an individual who came out to talk to us so myself and the merchant banker headed off in disgust until we remembered that he was the only one who knew which way we were supposed to be going. Reluctantly we waited for him to rejoin us and then continued on our somewhat disfunctional way.
Soon we were back among hanging swamps and I was happy. I was also conducting a low grade mutiny by maliciously pausing to take photos of things. This would have worked better as a protest if it had caused the others to slow down even slightly.
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| More swamp |
As it was we were wrapping up our walk, the property developer having essentially led us in a huge loop back towards the carpark where we had begun. Along the way I took photos of flowers. I justify this by saying I would have done so anyway.
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| Flower, or possibly an eyestalk |
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| More flowers |
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| And one more fungus to be good on |
With the carpark achieved we got into the car literally thirty seconds before it started pouring down with rain. The others exuded an air of smug justification while I just sat and muttered under my breath. In my defence I probably would have been doing that anyway.
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