A CROWNING ACHIEVEMENT

The red light is as a portent of disaster, its probing rays straining through the morning fog and sparkling on the ice of the frosty ground as if a harbinger of doom. Ice also covers half the windscreen as I reflect on the previous day’s events.

The road to Tarana (out from Lithgow) is the pothole centre of the universe. If you had kids in the back you could offer a prize to the first one to spot a thousand potholes and one of them would surely claim it. For some of the route you’ll be on Sodwall Road and you’ll understand the “Sod” bit, but not the “well”. I had arrived at Tarana in the dark, looking forward to a hot meal at the local one storey pub after viewing tempting pictures of meals on line.

There were two smokers outside. You could tell they were because why else would you choose to suffer in minus two degrees when inside was much more pleasant….and warm. The elder of the two could obviously trace his drinking back, not in years, but decades. The younger one started chatting to me.

Why was I here? A meal, preferably hot. “I don’t think cook is on tonight”, he mused. “Oh shit”, I thought, nearly an hour of that dreadful road for nought.

I checked inside anyway. The pub was full of characters, about 14 of them all up, one fiddling with a musical instrument. As they became silent, I became the instant focus of attention.

“Do you have hot meals?” “I’m sorry, not Monday or Tuesday”, replied the barmaid. “What about a hot drink?” I probed. No joy there either. I turned and slumped out, only to be confronted by the two outside wanting to know what had brought me to Tarana. I mentioned Evans Crown and was immediately given detailed instructions as to how to get there. Turns out I’d already gone past the turnoff about 5 kms ago.

Then they wanted to know about where I would stay and suggested just down the road near the fire station. When food and drink came up they commenced a rant on mulled wine. “That’ll warm you up,” the elder one enthusiastically remarked. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I was a teetotaller, I simply started moving away.

From where I parked you could see a bright red light adjacent to the railway, though I wasn’t worried about trains, I’d lived next the main Sydney-Newcastle line for the first 21 years of my life. What noise?

Now it was morning and I had to move which is a bit difficult when it’s comfortably below freezing but I managed and was soon swerving to avoid potholes again before turning off and finding a nice level carpark where I should have spent last night.

There’s a very helpful information board at the start of the walk (read “climb”). It indicated that an hour and a half should see you done. I budgeted for 2 ½ and set off up the well laid steps. There’s nothing to see except forest, some bush birds and an odd kangaroo for the first 20 minutes or so. Then you espy the occasional rock peeping through the trees on high. Granite worn in interesting shapes.

At the top a T-intersection sign indicates unmarked trails to the right and left. Since the vast majority of rocks were left, that’s where I, and many others before, trekked off to. It had shades of Girraween in Queensland about but these were more colourful and two were massive.

           

Probing along the narrow worn path I paused regularly for pics, so much was the variation and so many the angles. You’re not quite sure whether to take some leads or not but they all proved fruitful in the end and I was ecstatic with the results. Well over half an hour passed by before I got back to the intersection and took the other direction.

Here, there are occasional spots where the faintest of trails is visible but, basically, you’re on your own. Valley views were promised but, after about 20 minutes I hadn’t found any until I opted for a new direction. Moments later I came out upon a clear section featuring small rock outcrops laden with moss and lichen. The silence, as they say, was deafening. I found a comfy spot, sat down, and immersed myself in the panorama.

For accompaniment the cows way down on the farms decided it would be a good time to moo and, during the whole 15 minutes I sat there, they never shut up! The mist was slowly dissipating but the remnants looked lovely and added calm to the scene. By the time I left it was clear.

I got misplaced on the way back. Knew where I was heading but, since there are no paths on this less travelled side, it’s problematic which direction you should take. Thus I stumbled on another outcrop of granite before finding a way around it and eventually reaching the T-intersection once more.

The three hour mark was already broached as I started the descent, diverting to a significant outcrop before reaching the bottom, just as a group of noisy schoolchildren (are there any other types?) commenced the ascent on their day’s outing, probably not realising how lucky they are to be so close to a significant natural attraction and use it during school time.

After a well-earned cup of tea it was time to hit (literally) the potholes again!