IS THIS SYDNEY’S BEST WALK?

The weathermen and women had said it was going to rain for four days.  Thoughts of bushwalking were somewhere on the horizon if that was the case.  The first day came and went with little precipitation though, sometime during the night a few showers were heard but, by the time the second day rolled around, it didn’t seem all that likely.  In fact, only 12% likely upon checking again.  The hours went by.  Eventually I decided to risk it, but what walk would I do?

I’d done Waitara Creek the day before under threatening skies and that was nice.  Today I needed to go a little further.  I eyed off a waterfall on the map and decided to include it in the Blue Gum Trail loop, a 4.5 km affair in the gorge below north western Hornsby.

Looking at the flat map it wasn’t that far away, 5 minutes’ drive was all, just up the hill there somewhere.  Except, it transpired it wasn’t up that hill.  Well, initially it was and then it plunged down what must be the steepest road in all Sydney, zig-zagging down an eyes wide open descent all the way to Ginger Meggs Park.  Really?

At least I’d found one of the entrances and stepped confidently out, down a locked access road, across Waitara Creek to the trail.  Clockwise was my chosen direction and there’s one thing you can’t help but notice immediately, why the route carries its name.  The Blue Gums (eucalyptus saligna) are magnificent, there’s a large stand of straight upright trunks with cascades of ferns below them right beside the trail.  They are the last remnants, just 14 hectares, before felling ceased.

                                        

Then I divert left on a smaller trail, because Wirrega Falls is on a side path somewhere around here.  I follow for about half a kilometre, dip down into some small cascades and mossy rocks before conceding that it’s not down here.  Back to the main track.

The next thing you notice is that the dirt road is suddenly concrete with ribs and it’s heading almost skywards, so steep is the gradient.  Off to one side there’s the Ginger Meggs Loop Trail where you’ll see a row of English Oaks, put there as a lead-in to a dwelling that once was.

Shortly after, it’s indicated that you should leave that and head up some well-placed (and new) wooden steps.  Climbing, climbing, climbing until the trail turns right and you’re ushered into a new world of towering cliffs and Sydney Peppermint Gums (eucalyptus piperita) whose grey rough bark peeling off leads them to be called “ribbon gums”.  The sandstone ridge is impressive, to say the least.  Though it’s out of reach except for the truly adventurous, the eroded shapes, overhangs and caves demand your constant attention.  They really are spectacular.

For me, the scenery has been so good I’ve ignored the energy I’m using up. The vegetation also changes, there’s a turpentine or two and a couple of classic angophoras, whose holes in their trunks are a haven for many animals. Eventually, we’re crossing over from the ridge line and dipping quickly down to another creek, except there’s a negotiation required around a solid block of sandstone, or should that be “through”, as the trail dips under a large pock marked overhang and comes out the other side before the crossing is achieved. 

Here is a photographer’s delight.  It’s called the Washtub where it struggles to navigate its way through the pockmarked Hawkesbury sandstone.  I’m unsure where to point the camera first, so simply blaze away at whatever has potential.  It’s obvious that the crossing would be closed after heavy rain and dodgy after a medium fall.  The trail would also be uncomfortably muddy and, judging by all reports, leeches abound.  Still, a quick bit of Vaseline around your sock tops will alleviate that.

The track then follows the creek for a few hundred yards and is decidedly scenic, a real snappers delight, to the Fish Ponds of Berowra Creek where there’s a neat man-made set of concrete stepping stones that you can cross to a fairly large cave where you could relax and keep an eye out for turtles and water dragons. 

I turned around, back to the Blue Gum Trail intersection that heads uphill, but only for a short time in order to get around a tricky bit of the river.  There’s a couple of scribbly gums, so-called, whose marks are caused by the Red-Triangle Slug foraging on algae.

Then it’s undulations for the next kilometre or so, past a couple of splendid angophoras, whose hollowed trunks are havens for animals; more rock formations until, finally, I can glimpse houses in the distance which makes me feel relieved as tiredness is rearing its ugly head. 

Crossing Old Man’s Creek (knew I was in the right place) I burst out of the bush into a park, but it’s not Ginger Meggs, it’s Rosemead Road Park, wherever that is!  A consultation with a stranger walking his dog informs me that I’ve still got a ½ km walk along suburban streets before I reach the car again where blessed relief takes over but I can’t stop smiling.  The walk had lived up to its reputation and then some.