After semi triumphantly completing a section of the Great North Walk the previous week I decided to build on that fungus ridden victory by going to the other extreme and doing a section of the "Great West Walk". Being somewhat less blessed with hilly ground than Sydney's northern suburbs the western regions tend to have been built over to an extent that some would term maniacal. Nevertheless a selection of parks, reserves and the occasional concrete lined creek have been somewhat tenuously linked together to form a walking trail. A fair amount of said walking trail is actually wandering through suburban streets where the most likely form of wildlife is out of control teenagers. It does however cross the Western Sydney Parklands. This is a large chunk of open land that has unaccountably not been built on yet. Making a virtue of a coincidence the state government has turned the lot into "the Western Sydney Parklands" it is apparently one of the largest urban parks in the world. Excited reports on my trail app announced sightings of kangaroos so I knew straight away that I wasn't going to see those. My leech non-experience still burned in my brain.
The walk I selected took me from Blacktown railway station and after sixteen odd kilometres of suburban streets, random parks, shabby creeks and the vaunted Western Sydney Parklands finally spat me out at Rooty Hill station a little further up the line. I alighted at Blacktown, western Sydney's cultural mecca (no wait, that's the Rooty Hill RSL) and blundered around the station for fifteen minutes until my trail app graciously condescended to inform me that I was on the right track. The day was hot and I reached up to adjust my hat to discover that I had left it behind. My brain baked quietly in my skull as I set off.
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| Blacktown may not be a cultural Mecca but its doing its best to be a transport one |
The first part of the walk was a tedious traipse down suburban streets interrupted when the "trail" crossed Blacktown showgrounds which has a fair bit of open space, the occasional tree and a wetland. It isn't a natural wetland rather this is a stormwater filtration system which allows the otherwise grubby water to be used for such purposes as watering the showground. I don't know if these sort of environmental cleansing projects assist terribly much but they're certainly more appealing to walk across than a water treatment plant. Plus I saw a dragonfly!
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| This is not a dragonfly, it is a pair of pointy headed pigeons (I may have clicked on the wrong photo) |
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| Now this is a dragonfly |
The pleasant haven provided by the showgrounds soon gave way to more suburban streets and busy main roads. I choked on exhaust fumes and thought about trees as I plodded down the streets. I was wearing hiking boots and carrying a backpack, other pedestrians looked at me as though I were mad. Before I plunged back into semi-nature I encountered what must be one of the most dubiously named medical practices I've ever encountered. The Lourdes Medical Centre.
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| The Lourdes Medical Centre |
I love this as the name of a medical centre. The marketing slogans write themselves; "Lourdes Medical Centre, if you survive it's a miracle" or possibly "Lourdes Medical Centre, place your faith in God, as opposed to our staff". The ensuing giggles (I am pathetically easy to amuse) kept me going through several kilometres of trudging along concrete footpaths veering occasionally into parks that resembled large lawns.
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| I saw this from the street, my path didn't take me anywhere near it |
The trail app had boasted of "remnant woodland" as a highlight of the walk. As I trudged through a park I saw a tree. I guess a tree counts as remnant woodland.
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| Remnant woodland |
But the park had other attractions. A sudden commotion at ankle level brought my gaze down and I saw a pair of indian mynahs monstering a crane. The mynahs buggered off but the crane posed for a number of photos most of which weren't any good.
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| The best of some not terribly good crane photos |
My mood was enhanced when I came across what could broadly be described as a creek. That is it was too wide to be a gutter and not deep enough to be a storm water channel.
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| A creek, allegedly |
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| A dragonfly hovering over the noxious waters |
This was in fact Breakfast Creek, a watercourse that would be a largely absent companion for the next part of my walk. The environmental report on Breakfast Creek makes rather depressing reading but still it was a waterway, trees lining its artificially enhanced banks. My walk didn't take me near it, rather it paralleled the creek's course at sufficient distance to ensure none of the walkers would inadvertently drown. Eventually I got sick of this and plunged down a narrow side path that took me to the creek in all its scummy glory.
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| Breakfast Creek again. This is actually a rather flattering photo |
I gazed at the murky waters. Then looked aside as more dragonflies disported themselves for my entertainment. A flicker of movement caught the corner of my eye and I turned just in time to see an eel sliding past a discarded shopping trolley. As I stared the eel broke the surface, writhing before sinking back into the water. Sadly I had no time for a photo and the eel didn't reappear but my entire attitude towards Breakfast Creek was transformed. I love me an eel and the presence of one in Breakfast Creek simply reinforces the sheer indestructibility of them as a species. Incidentally the birds in the photo above made themselves scarce shortly afterwards. The last time I saw the eel it was heading in their direction.
I spent a bit more time at the creek hoping the eel would return and failing to take photos of dragonflies. Dragonflies are another one of my favourite bits of nature. I love the activity and the glittering colours. The knowledge, recently gained, that they are murderously lethal predators only adds to their appeal. Unfortunately they're not terribly easy to photograph.
Leaving aside Breakfast Creek I resumed my journey. The plodding through suburbs was almost over as the park that Breakfast Creek infested led to the Western Sydney Parklands. Well actually it led to Quakers Hill Parkway but that in turn led me to the parklands. A neat sign announced my entry into this hallowed ground and straightaway things were different. Open plains stretched before me with remnant woodland lurking at a discreet distance. Even the human habitation took on a slight rural air with farming equipment and a horse that looked like it had been the subject of an unsuccessful mummification attempt.
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| A badly mummified horse |
Stepping away from the suburbs I plunged into a reasonable approximation of nature.
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| See, nature |
There was a jauntiness to my exhausted stumble as I strolled through one of the biggest urban parks in the world. There was plenty of open plain where kangaroos could frolic, none did so. In the background the remnant woodland kept far enough away from the trail so that anybody walking with a chainsaw couldn't trip and accidentally cut down a tree.
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| Parkland, trees lurking at a safe distance |
Another creek presented itself for my delectation, it didn't look much better than the previous one but was somewhat larger. Going by my map I think this was Eastern Creek into which Breakfast Creek deposited its fetid waters a little further downstream.
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| Eastern Creek (I think) |
Incidentally can we have a word about our colonial forebears naming habits. Breakfast Creek, Eastern Creek, they weren't exactly stretching the limits of their imagination were they? At least I hope they weren't.
The sun beat down as I made my way through open parklands and the occasional motorway. Wildflowers (at least I assume they were wild) grew among the grasses. On the way I took a series of photos of bush with a tiny blue splodge in the middle of them. These were a series of attempts to photograph the superb fairy wren a flighty little blue bird that behaves as though it has a severe amphetamine addiction. I see them frequently on my walks and would love to get a photo but the most I've managed to achieve is random blue splodges.
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| The best random blue splodge photo |
I was heading towards the Nurragingy Reserve (now that's a name although knowing my luck it probably means "breakfast" in the local indigenous tongue). Here the woodlands, creek and path had come together to provide a proper bush experience. The locals had celebrated the fact by building a miniature railway, unfortunately it wasn't running the day I went. I also walked through the only natural wetland in the Blacktown region. As is traditional boardwalks had been built so you didn't get your feet wet. The other thing preventing your feet from getting wet was the absence of water. I guess its been a dry Summer.
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| Dryland or at the very best dampland |
Leaving behind the dryland I wandered out of the bush into a carpark. The carpark was attached to an ornamental pond and a Chinese garden. People thronged so I decided to leave but took a photo of some cute birds and an impressive duck before I did so.
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| A cute bird I think we can all agree |
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| And that is quite an impressive duck |
My journey wasn't over but the most interesting parts were. Leaving the Chinese garden behind me I wandered on and wound up on a cycleway that paralleled the M7 motorway. Once that was behind me I found myself in Rooty Hill and stumbled eagerly towards the train station and my ticket home. I had walked the best part of seventeen kilometres and was definitely looking forward to a rest. The train journey from Rooty Hill to Blacktown took all of four minutes.
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