What with work, weather and sheer unregenerate laziness I haven't done many bushwalks of late. However the need to prepare myself for next year, where I have for reasons that are as silly as they are predictable I have committed myself to traipsing through South America, means that I need to get into something vaguely approximating shape. My trail app provided me with a 17km bushwalk through Middle Harbour and with an optimism that turned out to be wholly misplaced I locked it in.
The weather it has to be said was not promising. Actually it was promising and what it was promising was rain. A closer look at the weather forecast indicated that the rain wouldn't start until around 6pm by which time I would hopefully be back at home clutching my achey bits. I decided to take the chance and set out for Gordon. Having successfully arrived at Gordon I set out for the start of my walk. Two rather wearying kilometres later I arrived at the start of my walk and considered whether to turn around and go home. Gritting such of my teeth as remained I plunged into the bush.
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| This is not the bush I plunged into. It is an example of bush I encountered on my way to the bush |
The day was cool, the sky grey and I was dressed warmly for the occasion. Fifteen minutes later I was down to a singlet. The day might be cool but I no longer was. The path stepped off a suburban street and promptly started descending towards water.
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| This is the bush I plunged into, not quite as impressive is it? |
Water would be a prevailing theme of this walk. The track I was following spent half of its time roughly following a creek downstream on its journey towards Sydney Harbour then crossed and spent the rest of its time following the same stream back up to my starting point. Water was not long in presenting itself and my downward journey halted for fear of drowning. There were the usual dire warnings about leeches but to date I have seen not one. I'm not sure if I should be offended. For those of you desperate to know such things the water in question was Middle Harbour Creek which flowed, no one should be surprised to learn, into Middle Harbour.
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| See, water! |
Water having been achieved I skipped (well stumbled) over the convenient stones to the other side of the creek and started heading harbourward. The trail I had selected was had a difficulty rating of "Hard" which I found difficult to fathom. Generally speaking if something is "hard" I don't do it. Although there is the occasional exception of course. I strode on through a generally silent bush. Normally I keep an ear out for birdsong in the hopes of getting a photo that consists of more than water and trees but a lot of this path was quiet. Winter probably had something to do with that as well as the sound of a bushwalker blundering along a path, gasping asthmatically and keeping up a low level diatribe of what he could be doing instead. Still if birds were noticeable by their absence there was certainly plenty of trees. And quite a bit of water.
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| Trees and water, don't say you don't get the full experience |
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| And something looking suspiciously like rainforest |
The sky was getting greyer and I quickened my pace. Shortly afterwards I slowed my pace again because, well, fitness. The sudden decrease in pace did allow me to snap the obligatory Clare McIntyre memorial fungus lurking modestly against a log.
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| And quite a handsome one it is too |
The creek which had been a reasonably modest affair when I began started getting into its stride and began taking on riverlike proportions. Fish (I presume) occasionally hurled themselves out of the water before splashing back again. I'm not sure whether this was a desire for a change of scenery or an unsuccessful attempt at evolution. Still the occasional splash broke the silence.
Finally I heard what I'd been waiting for. The sound of birds. I clutched my phone and crept forward my eyes scanning the trees and bushes. What did I see? Trees and bushes. But I persevered. I have never managed to take a decent photo of the tiny birds that flit through the trees despite hanging around at likely looking bushes long enough for a passing stranger to call the police. Today a flicker of movement caught my eye and I just managed to take a semi adequate photo.
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| This is, according to google, an Eastern Spinebill |
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| And here it is again |
I was quite pleased with this trivial triumph and continued my journey with a spring in my step that lasted a good fifteen metres before degenerating into my usual desperate shamble. There was a little climbing to put a decent space between me and the water which was now becoming distinctly riverlike in my opinion. Still it enabled me to looked down over the creek which in my opinion no longer deserved its name.
I turned a corner and came face to face with an echidna. I have never seem an echidna in the wild before and now there was one snuffling its way down the path towards me. Unlike the flighty little birds it graciously posed for photos. I was utterly delighted and the spring in my step after that lasted a good hundred metres.
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| Frontal |
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| And profile |
There were many other echnida shots but I'm exercising restraint. I carried on for a little while after that but I honestly didn't care any more. I had done ten kilometres of the walk plus another two just in getting there. A single spot of rain fell on my face and that was more than enough excuse to find the closest exit and flee for home as though a flood was about to commence.
