Mt Cabre Bald, Barrington Tops National Park, NSW

The Barrington Tops, in NSW, is renowned as the watershed of 14 different rivers including the once mighty Manning, the Karuah River and the Hunter. These rivers flow out of the Tops like arteries. And between each river valley, runs a long finger of forest-clad ridgeline, spreading from the subalpine heights of the wild plateau to the farm land far below. 

Along one of these ridges, sits a peak called Mt Cabre Bald — one of the most unique, ancient and rare landscapes I have ever visited. The view from the top of the mountain should be enough - it is a vast, 360 degree panorama. The Barrington Tops stands in the north like a Great Wall of forest. I can see east down the Hunter Valley to farmland and dams and the nearby peaks of Mt Royal and Mt Allyn loom either side. But it is not for the view that I am lugging an overnight pack and kilos of water up the steep final pinch to the top. At the grassy summit, Caz and I drop our gear to begin searching for the true treasure. 

The Secret Waterfalls of Barrington Tops National Park, NSW

I know, it looks amazing. But, we’re not telling. 

The creek has no name anyway. And, if we told you, well, it wouldn’t be a secret anymore.

It is beautiful though, one of the prettiest creeks in the Barrington Tops. The waterfalls are only small but they are immensely scenic, surrounded by ferns and Antarctic Beech cool temperate rainforest. Perhaps someone else has walked into this spot, but there is no evidence of previous explorers - no disturbed soil or footprints, no broken branches, no path. It feels like we are the only visitors in a long, long time. 

Crabapple Kingdom - Whispering Gully, Barrington Tops National Park, NSW

14/4/19 5:41pm

I am writing this to you from the forest; sitting in the tent. The ground is lumpy but soft. The creek is just a few metres from the door and it is noisy over the rocks. It is day 2 of our walk. My lower back is aching, sitting hunched over my notebook. Caz is rustling around beside me searching out the lumps under his sleeping mat. He extracts a stick and then a rock. He flattens some dirt. He has filled one bad hollow with his spare socks. 

It has been a long day. I am tired and my eyes just want to close but it seems a ridiculous time to go to bed. It is dark outside. The rainforest trees are so thick, the valley we are in so deep and shaded, that the evening gloom set in at 3:30pm. The scrubwrens are still chattering outside. I envy their energy. I know the first thing you will ask me - was it a hard walk. I’d say no, but it also wasn’t easy. It certainly was not what we planned.

Two ‘Tops’ Days Out - Barrington Tops National Park, NSW

Tuesday, two weeks ago, I was rock hoping down a narrow creek. Tea tree crowded the banks. The rocks were black and the water a dark trickle. Beyond the edge of the riparian zone stood tall mountain gums with pepper bush, banksia and snow grass in an open, rocky forest.

Tuesday, one week ago, I was rock hopping down a narrow river. Sub-tropical rainforest pressed in either side. The water was fast flowing and crystal clear. Huge Blue Gum emergents towered above the steep sides to the valley. There was red cedar, giant stinging trees and lush green moss and lichen. 

For both adventures, I was in the same national park. As the crow flies, just 22km apart. As ecosystems go, it felt like a millennia of difference - the ancient Gondwana rainforest species so vastly different to the more recent dry-living xerophytes. Both of them exploiting the topography of the high plateau of the Barrington Tops: the wet, shaded, rain-soaked southern slopes and the exposed, dry western fall of the mountains. 

Rainforest ramblings - Chichester River, Barrington Tops National Park

The journey ahead is about bringing into focus the essence of our blog - off-track wanderings, a vague route, changing direction depending on the demands of the terrain, searching out campsites, pressing on into rarely visited corners of wild country. The anticipation, the unknown, the mystery - these seem to shimmer in the humid air as we set off from the carpark. 

What we find is this - a remote river valley, untouched forest, trees towering 50m high like city high rises, a fruit laden canopy and hour after hour of beauty. It's been to long time since we've seen beautiful, wet rainforest. It satisfies our longing to escape the dry oppressive summer and disappear into another world.

Visiting the relatives - Manning River 60r, 23r and 8r

Manning River 60r

We spread the topographic map on the lounge room floor and spot a relative. We should go visit. It looks like a perfect trip for us. A renowned relative, seldom seen; found in deep, steep-sided wild country.  

What relative?

Well, on all NSW 1:25,000 topographic maps many waterfalls remain unnamed and are marked simply with a blue line across the watercourse and beside that some digits followed by a lower case 'r'. The 'r' indicates a cliff or a drop 'relative' to the surrounding landscape. On the upper Manning River, in Barrington Tops National Park, there are several such relatives, the most visited being 8r & 23r, and further downstream, 60r. What that implies is an 8m, 23m and a 60m waterfall. Now that's a bunch of relatives worth visiting.

Sliding into the green room - Williams River Canyon, Barrington Tops

Moss-green walls of rock rise either side of the river, forming a narrow chute where the water curves right then left, drops into a small hole, and continues around a final bend before disappearing out of sight. I edge my way down the slippery, smooth channel and test the depth of the first hole. Caz is waiting at the top. I give him the thumbs up. It's time for his next water slide.

I scramble out of the way as Caz gives a little "woo-hoo" and splashes to the bottom of the ride above. The water is freezing cold and a rich emerald colour. We swim as quickly as possible across the large, deep pool that lies hidden around the final dip. Our small packs are like buoyancy vests and our wetsuits keep out the worst of the cold. We are both grinning from ear to ear and the day has only just begun.

The Valley of a Thousand Fallen Trees - Barrington Tops National Park, NSW

Last month we walked through The Valley of a Thousand Fallen Trees to reach The Ancient Lands of Poa. Magical places high in the mountains, hidden amongst trees of autumn-colour-in-spring and filled with birds born from the blood of lovers.

In less fantastical language, we spent three days struggling up the tree choked and rugged Kerripit River valley in Barrington Tops National Park until we reached the high plateau and collapsed in an exhausted heap on the snow grass, grateful to have finally reached clear open beech forest where new spring growth blushed the forest in autumnal colours and breeding pairs of crimson rosellas roosted in the treetops. 

And, while we created mystical names for the landscape, there is a very real mystery hidden in the forests and mountains - Australia's only modern-day unsolved aircraft disappearance.

The things you find out walking…Barrington Tops National Park

Caz spots a chunk of metal half buried in the rainforest soil.  Weaving around the next few tree ferns we spot more and more small pieces, some lengths of wiring, plastic and fabric, and now we have our eye in there seems to be stuff everywhere. It intrigues us and we dump the packs and begin searching more closely, rummaging in the undergrowth.  We push and duck under tunnels formed by heavy fronds. Caz pulls up another substantial piece of twisted wreckage with remains of oranges paint on it. I find a labelled section of wiring that finally confirms our suspicions. 

Corker of a Walk - Barrington Tops National Park

Steady rain forces me to pull tight the hood of my jacket. All I can hear are fat drops pinging and thumping on my head and echoing inside this cocoon of Gortex. Walking, in this sort of weather, is an exercise in blinkered observation and internal journeying – I watch the mud at my feet, the puddles to dodge, rocks to step over; think about the strength in my legs and the energy in my soul as we march steadily uphill. Then, I glance up and catch sight of Caz, a few steps ahead. It snaps me out of my reverie. I can no longer take this walk so seriously. 

Gloucester Falls - Barrington Tops National Park

One of the Gloucester Falls

So we jumped the fence at the lookout, and followed a rough pad between rocks and stunted trees. It led downhill to a small saddle, where we turned left and began a steep descent to the river. It is not the sort of behaviour we should probably mention here, or promote by making public on the blog; this breaking of rules and jumping of fences in a national park. But there's a lot of fences in the world these days, and from past experience we knew that beyond this one was a hidden gem of a waterfall.