Category Archives: Trekking

November 24, 2015

Road trip – first stop Trial Bay

Some of the most surprising places we’ve discovered lately are actually places one of us has been to in another life, another time.

I haven’t visited Trial Bay on the NSW coast for at least 30 years. And I don’t remember it being quite this stunning.

When you’re a kid, you’re into surf, scenery and wildlife. Just not the same kind of scenery and wildlife as now…

This was once my parents’ stomping ground. Their place in the world.

For the first time, I understand why they loved it – with its rugged coastline, wild-flowering coastal heathlands and secluded coves, it is one of the true gems in the North Coast region of NSW.

We are in awe as we take the coastal walk from Trial Bay Gaol to Little Bay.

It’s been the first non-travelling day of our holiday and EB has me up at the crack of dawn, breakfast eaten, and cycling into South West Rocks for espresso.

A short respite and we’re cycling back for a swim, before walking to Little Bay.

Yep, my usually desk-bound butt is feeling it! Perhaps calling this a ‘holiday’ was stretching the point…?

The best thing about road trips, apart from discovering new and amazing places in Australia, is that I always sleep well at night.

But the day is only half done, the tide is rising in the bay and… it’s time for another swim perhaps?

Common Fringed Lily and a scribbly gum…

Go wild, in a civilised way:

Camping at Arakoon Conservation Area is a great choice if you love nature, coastal walks, pristine beaches and bays, and history – and you like to be a bit civilised too, with showers, toilets and cooking facilities.

Comments Off on Road trip – first stop Trial Bay | tags: Beaches, camping, camping on NSW coast, cycling, Life, photography, road trip, short breaks, South West Rocks, travel, Trial Bay, vacation | posted in Australia, National Parks, Road trips, short breaks, Travel, Trekking, Wellbeing, Wildlife

May 28, 2015

Walk on the wild side – at Binna Burra

By the dragonfly

Crisp air, sweeping views, birdsong and a nice red… you can just feel the serenity. We’ve arrived at Binna Burra Sky Lodges, in the heart of the Lamington National Park, for some post-wedding R&R.

But it’s not long before EB is scanning the Binna Burra map to find a long, challenging walk for us to do. Clearly ‘relaxation’ is all in the interpretation.

The Sky Lodges are the newest edition to the Binna Burra Mountain Lodge, a nature-based resort founded in 1933, which still has that retro feel.

The beautiful, self-contained lodges are designed to capture the spectacular views across Queensland’s Scenic Rim, stretching all the way to the Gold Coast and the ocean.

EB may have his walking agenda, but I also have mine. So late in the afternoon we emerge, feeling very Zen, from the aptly-named Bliss Massage, to a mountain shrouded in mist – which soon unwraps a stunning sunset.

The next morning, we tackle the Ship’s Stern. To say I’m a little anxious is a major understatement. I haven’t done any serious bush walking since we climbed Mt Gower on Lord Howe Island in 2011 and, unlike EB who’s always exercising and has an active job, I spend most days firmly planted at an office desk.

The Ship’s Stern walk descends into the Kurraragin Valley, past towering red cedar, eucalypts and piccabeen palms, and natural viewing spots where looking down makes your legs tingle.

Along the way, dense rainforest gives way to open forest, with sudden transitions to open heathland. In places, the narrow track clings to the mountain edge and the drop-offs are breathtaking.

Pops of bushland colour…

Go fig-ure

When I’m certain we’re nearing the end of the 19km walk, we come across a sign that proves EB right (again). We’ve just passed the halfway point. Ugh.

But surprisingly, my bushwalking legs are back and I’m ready to take on the 9.4km uphill stretch.

Negotiating massive fallen trees and debris on the edge of the precipice along this section of the track soon makes me forget uphill battles and fatigued legs. There’s nothing like the occasional adrenalin rush to keep your energy levels up.

Nature’s hieroglyphics

By the time we reach the end of the walk, I’m skipping – in an exhilarated, kind-of exhausted and lumbering way. I made it – and with far more ease than I expected.

Yes, EB would definitely have arrived at the finish line sooner, but he was very relaxed and accommodating of my slower pace (what a great husband!).

He wasn’t even phased by my constant oo-ah moments, when I stopped to take photos with my iPhone camera (because I wasn’t about to lug my real one on a walk like this!).

This was yet another reminder in my life (how many do I need?!) that when you think you can’t do something, you’re often underestimating your abilities because, most times, you can.

Somewhere along the Ship’s Stern, I decided there are so many things in life I can’t not do…

Which leads me to the ‘real’ honeymoon we’ll be taking sometime soonish.

It may involve some serious cycling training… but that’s another story.

Bridal waltzing, lou and EB style

A wedding postscript: The rain gods cast their blessing on our beach wedding. But, as some wise person once said, when life hands you lemons, make lemonade, then (our addition) splash in the gin and hand it around.

So we took the ceremony indoors, and nothing could dampen our spirits as the night turned into one huge party. It really was one of the best days of our life, shared with our fabulous family and friends.

After 19 years together, raising our blended family, we didn’t expect to feel any different. But we do. We’re primed and ready for getting on with this next phase of our lives… on the flight path.

And he walks in fields of gold…

Comments Off on Walk on the wild side – at Binna Burra | tags: Australian landscapes, Binna Burra, Honeymoon, Lamington National Park, Ship's Stern, Sky Lodges, Trekking, Wedding | posted in Australia, National Parks, Photography, short breaks, Travel, Trekking, Wellbeing

September 13, 2014

Blissed out at Black Rocks…

By the dragonfly

After a busy week or even a slow one, it’s too easy to head off to the usual short-break destinations. So a few weekends ago, we went somewhere we hadn’t been before. Funny how a simple change can reveal yet another favourite place in the world. In a National Park of course…

Black Rocks campground in Bundjalung National Park is a hidden gem, with a stunning coastline, fabulous creek and coastline walks, a pontoon on the creek for paddlers, amazing birdlife, and super-private campsites.

The campground gets its name from the black rocks (also called ‘coffee rocks’) along a rugged coastline. The rocks are soft, crumble exactly like coffee grinds, and have been eroded by wind and sea into spectacular formations…

Espresso anyone?

We’re hooked and ready to explore. After downpours in the area the day before we arrived, we discover the Emu Loop trail is a chain of ponds. Well, puddles really.

But we get to be carefree kids again, splashing along the trail.

There is something primal about it. You feel more connected to the earth… especially when you occasionally find yourself ankle deep in mud.

The next day, we ditch our shoes again for the six-hour Jerusalem Creek walk, alternating between thongs and bare-foot wading.

Along the trail, the vegetation is amazing – from rainforest to paperbark swamp to coastal lowlands to open grasslands.

We walk to a chorus of frog calls, with gorgeous birds adding in the high notes – and sometimes diving into the puddles in front of us to snatch a bug-snack…

A family of kingfishers are a flash of spectacular teal and russet, lorikeets sip nectar from flowering bottlebrush, a whistling kite soars overhead, and tiny birds are startling streaks of colour in constant motion among the branches…

Along the trail, there are signs of life. The slithering snake tracks are there too, on sandy parts of the trail, reminding us to watch where we put our feet.

…who goes there?

At the end of the track, the creek meets the sea. Here, migratory and resident shorebirds rest, feed and breed in peace.

There are pied oystercatchers, little terns, beach-stone curlews, sandpipers and two tiny mysterious birds whose little black legs are a blur as they run back and forth along the water’s edge.

… some tiny mystery waders

…and a pied oyster catcher

‘Peppa’ the Ozpig… nice

Later that night, we are two blissed-out campers. You can have your posh hotels and even your cozy B&Bs.

There is nothing like sitting in front of a fire (our fabulous Ozpig), under the stars and the swish of the Milky Way, with mysterious rustlings in the bushes, miles from civilisation.

Okay, okay, we are sipping on a rather smooth pinot noir.

There are some civilised things you should never give up…

1 Comment | tags: Beaches, birds, Black Rocks Campground, Bundjalung National Park, coastal lowlands, kingfisher, Northern NSW, Ozpig, paperbark swamp, photography, pied oyster catcher, short breaks, whistling kite | posted in Australia, National Parks, Photography, short breaks, Travel, Trekking, Wellbeing

June 11, 2014

Winter beach escapes…

By the dragonfly

The tourists have gone, the cafes and shops are quiet, and the camping areas are almost empty except for intrepid grey nomads on their way north to escape the southern chill.

A crisp wind sweeps the beach, where only the locals brave the elements to fish, walk or give their dogs a run.

Surf and sun are definitely big drawcards, but winter is my favourite time at the beach.

When our kids were little, we’d wrap them up all cozy and warm and we’d go to the beach to play – to search for shells and other treasures, make icy sand castles, brave a paddle, throw a ball, look for dolphins.

Here in northern New South Wales, from June to November, humpback whales are coming and going along their migratory highway. Seeing them breaching and playing just off the beach makes you want to wait forever for each magical glimpse.

But there is plenty to do around here that doesn’t involve the beach – or practicing your whale whispering techniques.

Try an early morning climb – with that last chain-assisted scramble – up Wollumbin (Mt Warning), the remnant central vent of an ancient volcano and an icon of the region.

Or slightly easier (with goosebumps of a different kind), paddle up the river towards the mountain. Along the way, you’ll see raptors riding the thermals above you. Last weekend, we counted twelve raptors, possibly square-tailed kites, in one breathtaking group…

If you’re not into chilly water sports or ‘hill’ climbs, there are so many forest walks around here – and so many stories. Like the walk to Protestors Falls on Terania Creek near Nimbin, the birthplace of Australia’s environmental movement in the late 1970s.

Or head down the trail in Springbrook National Park to the Natural Bridge, created over millions of years by water tumbling through the roof of a basalt cave.

For something a little more civilised, the Taste of Kingscliff is a delicious foodie fest in July 2014. We’ve booked in with a bunch of friends for the Long Table feast under the stars, so more on that in July…

Then there are weekend markets, the Mt Tambourine wine trail, theme parks, the Currumbin Sanctuary, places for golfing and cycling, cozy bars and cafes, music, and more.

This is the kind of place where, once you dig your feet in the (now chilly) sand, you never want to leave. For too long, anyway…

Comments Off on Winter beach escapes… | tags: Beaches, hump backs, Kingscliff, Life, Nimbin, Northern NSW, photography, raptors, short breaks, Springbrook National Park, Taste of Kingscliff, travel, vacation, whalewatching, wine tasting | posted in Australia, kayaking, Travel, Trekking, Wildlife

December 9, 2013

The Keepers of the Path

By the dragonfly

Saturday dawned hot and still in Brisbane. It may have been perfect beach weather, but we were staying in the city for silly season festivities with clients that night.

What’s the next best thing to surf and sand? A (very long, very hot) stroll in the bush of course.

So EB and I headed to Mt Coot-tha, where a network of trails crisscross the forest, up steep hills and into valleys, and it feels like you could walk forever and never find a way out (especially if you’re directionally-challenged like me!).

It’s a favourite place for intrepid travellers to train those walking legs for their trekking adventures. We spent many challenging hours on these trails back in 2007 when we were preparing to walk the Annapurnas in Nepal.

the black dog

We couldn’t hit the trails without our black kelpie, who may be getting on in years but adores her bushwalks and doesn’t know how to give up (she gets it from EB, I’m sure!).

Let’s just say that when we arrived at the Simpson Falls after walking for a couple of hours, she dropped into a rock pool and wasn’t going anywhere…

But half an hour of water therapy does wonders and, with a little gentle persuasion (for me, not the dog), we were on our way again.

Soon we noticed that two crows were keeping an eye on us along the trail. They would perch in a tree to watch us pass, then their shadows would slide over us as they soared ahead to wait in another tree until we were a few metres past them, then they’d glide ahead of us again.

Occasionally, they’d koww koww and eh-aw to each other, as if chatting about these odd, dusty creatures below.

I vaguely recalled that crows were believed to be a bad omen, a warning of danger to come, shape-shifting creatures with evil intent, or vessels for restless spirits. And who hasn’t seen Alfred Hitchcock’s The Birds, where a terrified young socialite is observed and harassed by flocks of the black menaces and other winged avengers?

But being shadowed by these two crows was strangely comforting. It was as if we were being guided by the Keepers of the Path.

Back to reality. Perhaps they were curious about our four-legged companion, glistening black like them, but with no ability to fly? Or were they just tagging along in case we stopped for a picnic and they could swoop down to snatch up the leftovers?

About eight kilometres later and no picnic stops, they were still hanging in there. They arrived with us back at the car – waiting, watching, and clearly unimpressed with our pathetic attempts to bid them farewell in crow language.

It may be a bit spooky for some, but I’m going with the other myth that says two crows mean joy.

Because there is definitely something joyful about the distraction of two crows, when you’re out walking in the midday sun, your feet are sore and what you really need is a stiff drink…

Comments Off on The Keepers of the Path | tags: birds, Brisbane, Brisbane walks, Day walks, dogs, Life, Mt Coot-tha, mythology, two crows | posted in Australia, Trekking, Wildlife

May 24, 2013

Climb every mountain… on Lord Howe Island

By the dragonfly

A life lived half in the city and half on the coast has left both EB and I temporarily speechless. The upside is I’ve overcome my fear of packing, but that’s another story. I’m taking a mental break with some retrospective travelling while we adjust to our life in motion. It’s 2011, we’re off to Lord Howe Island, and I have no idea what I’m in for…

We’ve just landed at Lord Howe Island, 600km off Australia’s east coast. It’s a tiny speck on the ocean dominated by two enormous mountains, Mount Gower and ‘little bro’ Mt Lidgbird. EB points at the biggest one (in case I hadn’t noticed).

That’s Mount Gower.

I’ve been here before, back in the day with my parents, so I nod. Yep. That’s Mount Gower.

We’re climbing it tomorrow, he informs me.

I shudder the full length of my desk-fit body. Eight kilometres straight up.

No, I say. EB looks at me incredulously. What do you mean no? I mean ‘never’. I’d love to, but I can’t do it. I just can’t.

EB appears to agree, reluctantly booking in for the climb later in the week – on his own.

He is ever the optimist. So, he leads me off cycling around the island, walking the trails, climbing every mountain.

Except Mount Gower. Never Mount Gower.

Bring it on… or something

Way too early one morning, I’m on yet another path that hugs the spectacular rugged coastline. This one leads to the base of Mount Gower (Don’t even ask!).

The walk is long enough for me to find comfort in a group where some find rock hopping challenging. Okay, I’m still nervous about the 8-plus km straight up, but I’m suddenly glad I decided to come.

Imagine how annoyed I’d be with myself if EB returned and told me the group wasn’t made up of fearless fitness freaks and rangy mountain folk. Just people like me – excited, in a slightly hysterical way, but definitely more puffing than puffed up.

The rope-assisted climb begins and I’m remembering how much I love this walking-slash-scrambling up mountains thing, edging along narrow paths above sheer drops, challenging my fears (and yes, there’s nowhere to hide when EB knows this about me!).

A few tough but amazing hours later, we reach the summit and find ourselves in a mystical forest where pathways made by wild creatures could just as easily lead you off the edge of the cliff.

Our guide Jack Shick is a fifth generation Islander and third generation mountain guide. His passion for this place – and shimmying-up-palm-tree ability – is already obvious. But wait, there’s more.

A bird’s-eye view

Jack points out some elegant birds, with wingspans slightly over a metre, gliding on the thermals high above us.

Providence Petrels, he says. This is the only place they breed, and you can ‘call them down’. Yeah right.

Then he starts making weird noises that sound suspiciously like mating calls.

Suddenly one of these totally wild and extremely rare birds plops to the ground at Jack’s feet and fearlessly climbs into his hands. Then there’s a lot of serious plopping going on as several others land in awkward feathery bundles around us.

Their landing ability may be severely lacking, but they have to be the extroverts of the bird world.

They soon toddle off, unimpressed by the motley bunch of humans. So do we, back down to a sunny spot overlooking Mount Lidgbird.

For me, there’s always a moment, on a walk like this, when I look back to where I’ve come from and feel stunned. How did my legs carry me that far or that high?

Soon EB and I are sliding and scrambling down the mountain with two 13 year-old boys who have energy to burn (and yes, our well-honed parenting instincts are in full swing!).

At the bottom there’s a lot of whoop-whooping going on (mostly in my head). Not just because it’s a fascinating climb or even because I conquered the mountain – but because I did something tougher. I faced down my fears.

And there endeth the lesson.

Except… all that learning maketh me peckish (and thirsty). Time for a celebratory bubbly and a very civilized dinner in the fabulous Pandanus restaurant.

…and there’s still some walks we haven’t done yet.

On the track to the Goat House Cave…

A ‘climb every mountain’ chorus line: It’s all here. Pick your grade – from 1-5. There is Transit Hill (2 km return), Malabar Hill and Kims Lookout (5 hours return), Goat House Cave (5 hours return and awesome), Mount Gower (8 hours return), Rocky Run and Boat Harbour, Intermediate Hill and more. (Note to self: next time, hide all maps from EB).

Climb the mountain…

6 Comments | tags: Lord Howe Island, short breaks, travel, vacation | posted in Australia, short breaks, Trekking

January 3, 2013

Hinchinbrook wanderings – a retrospective

By the dragonfly

Mt Bowen on Hinchinbrook Island

My only resolution this year is to ‘seize the moment’.

So EB and I have been lapping up the holidays, paddling the Brisbane River and freewheeling on our Bromptons around the city.

And while we’re at home, it seems like the perfect time for a little ‘armchair travelling’ – retrospective style.

Here are some memories from my first through-walk effort with EB…

October 2007: A friend of mine has just come back from Fiji and she’s still floating on ten days of waves lapping the shore just outside their beach hut, water of the perfect colour and temperature, cocktails and smiling happy people…

We’re off to the coast next week ourselves. Except I’m carefully packing bush camping gear, insect repellent, dehydrated food, snake bandages and two changes of undies into a backpack that looks big enough to carry me.

We’re getting ready to walk the Thorsborne Trail on remote and beautiful Hinchinbrook Island, off the Queensland coast near Townsville. When I say remote, I’m talking about the only way out being evacuation by emergency helicopter – or on foot.

Achtung! Crocs hang out here.

So, once the ferry drops you off, you’re on your own. Unless you count the company of estuarine crocs, marine stingers, bush rats that steal your food, and a variety of bitey insects.

I’m sure I’ll appreciate the cloud-covered mountains, fragile heath vegetation, patches of lush rainforest, sweeping sandy beaches and rocky headlands – once I’ve dumped my pack for the day.

Did I mention I won’t be able to have a wine for a week?

But there’s bound to be a bit of whine-ing going on! The whole ‘experienced and fit bushwalkers’ thing has me shaking in my sturdy footwear. What was I thinking?

Next time my intrepid adventurer partner EB decides we need a holiday, I’m going to be there when he books it.

Five days later…

As we wait for the ferry to collect us at the end of our Hinchinbrook walk, you could knock me over with a feather. Not because I’m exhausted, but because I am in shock.

I started the walk thinking I’d be counting the days and the kilometres until I reached the end. But here I am, feeling sad that it’s over and wanting more.

I’ve lugged my 15 kg pack along rocky trails criss-crossed with tangled roots, negotiated slippery creek crossings, scrambled up and down rocky sections, and (almost) got used to March flies with a fatal attraction to my hair.

And I’ve loved every bit of it, with the possible exception of EB whacking me over the head constantly (It’s a March fly, he says. Yeah right).

Even with the bities and the humidity, it’s a fantastic walk. One moment we are deep in cool, lush rainforest or rock hopping across crystal clear creeks, the next we’re walking through mangrove and palm swamps, open eucalypt forest or grass tree shrubland.

Zoe Falls

Along the way, we stop to cool off in deep forest pools beneath cascading falls or slide into the pristine blue of one of Hinchinbrook’s bays.

At night, the island comes alive in a very Jurassic Park kind of way.

There’s a whole lot of squawking, hunting and foraging going on beyond the campsite – which is strangely comforting, except when you want to go outside for a pee.

Who would have thought carrying all your stuff on your back for four days could be so relaxing?

Hinchinbrook has left us both floating…and there wasn’t a cocktail in sight. Perfect.

Crab art on Hinchinbrook

Comments Off on Hinchinbrook wanderings – a retrospective | tags: travel, vacation | posted in Australia, Packing light..., Travel, Trekking, Uncategorized

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Category Archives: Trekking

Road trip – first stop Trial Bay

Walk on the wild side – at Binna Burra

Blissed out at Black Rocks…

Winter beach escapes…

The Keepers of the Path

Climb every mountain… on Lord Howe Island

Hinchinbrook wanderings – a retrospective

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