Exploring the western fall of Cathedral Rock National Park, NSW

The pleasure of waking amongst tall messmate and mountain gums, creates a resonate hum of joy, deep, deep inside. It has been too long between camping trips and the absolute stillness of the morning, coupled with the anticipation of our plan for the days ahead, feels like that exhilarating moment when the orchestra has finished its warm-up, the conductor raises his hand and we wait for the symphony to begin.

We are at Barokee Campground in Cathedral Rock National Park, located approximately 70 kilometres east of Armidale. Our backpacks sit by the car, ready for an off-track adventure. It is mid-winter and the air is fresh, birds are subdued, as is the light. Our plan is not to walk the usual route that attracts visitors here. Most come for the scramble to the summit of Cathedral Rocks – a powerfully visual collection of granite boulders that tower above the surrounding forest by upwards of 200 metres and extending, in length, for nearly one kilometre. From the summit of Cathedral Rocks the view immediately west, across the closest gully, is of Round Mountain and the Snowy Range. That is there we plan on heading. 

Round Mountain reaches 1,584m above sea level and is the highest point on the New England Tablelands. Many of the plants are alpine and sub-alpine species more commonly found in the Snowy Mountains and Tasmania. Our aim is to walk up Round Mountain road then veer off-track on a compass bearing, weaving our way 1.5km through the scrub in search of a collection of rocky slopes and towering granite slabs. For many years, driving east from Armidale towards Dorrigo, these bare slopes have caught our eye amongst the heights of the park's forested peaks. The rocks are not obviously marked on a topographic map but from the road they look enticing.

The range also has one other remarkable feature. As we walk along its spine, the gullies that slope away to our left feed the Macleay River catchment, which emerges at Kempsey. The creeks and gullies sloping to our right, feed the mighty Clarence River, which opens to the ocean at Yamba. We are walking one of the most significant watersheds in New South Wales. This national park protects that watershed but it is also an important corridor linking larger parks to the north (Guy Fawkes River NP) and south (New England and Oxley Wild Rivers NP). It is small in comparison; a handkerchief of undisturbed land on the eastern edge of the New England High Country. Yet, it is crowded with mysterious and impressive wonders – it draws people in – us included.

From Barokee Campground it is an easy walk following Round Mountain Road to a locked gate, which although marked as ‘no vehicle access’ is open access for walkers. We climb over the fence and head up the bitumen road, with a feeling that one of the mountain’s annual snow falls is not far away. It is really cold and the southern side of the mountain is shady, moist and facing the incoming weather. A tall forest of Manna Gums is layered with an understory of tree ferns and scattered with crimson rosellas. 

On a hairpin bend we find the unmarked, but obvious, Snowy Range Trail. The trail cuts through open snow grass and vine thickets where satin bowerbirds squabble. It is not long and we are veering off-track on a compass bearing, following it diligently through thick forest. Despite poor granite soils, the park's flora is remarkably diverse – peppermint gums, mountain gum, snow gums. The understory can be quite densely crowded - pea flowers and mountain holly thrive here. Conesticks, geebungs and crinkle bush grow alongside tantoon tea tree, lemon bottlebrush, and prickly Moses. We feel these tough heath plants against our skin as we weave our way westwards. 

Beneath the treetops lie clusters of granite rock, hidden like lost and ruined cities. There are towering domes and blocks, stone alleyways covered in moss and lichen, shrubs and saplings sprouting from fissures and gutters. As we continue route finding through this maze we notice the clouds getting lower. We are not quite out to the edge of the range when we decide to make camp, finding a nice sheltered patch on a high point with views to the east and the west. We have just a precious hour to admire the view. The low, grey clouds soon become a winter whiteout. Visibility drops to just 50m in any direction. At 4:30pm, steady rain begins to fall.

One of the restrictions of walking along the spine of the Snowy Range is access to water - it lies well below us in the swamps and gullies. We carry enough to get us out and back for one night only but we have enough food for two. Our hope is to find a secret, high mountain water source, or pools of rainwater in the weathered hollows of the granite tors. But as the rain steadily falls our solution is even easier than that. I place our cups on a couple of good drip points off the tent fly. Within an hour, we have another two litres. 

The next day, we use pools of water caught in the granite rocks to supplement our tent water and this guarantees that we can stay another day and night and spend more time walking and exploring this mighty watershed. And, when we finally reach the western edge of the range, and the long admired rocks we have been searching for, we are not disappointed.

The view south reveals the sharply defined edge of the New England Gorge country around Wollomombi and Long Point. And the western fall of our Snowy Range is a playground of granite. We find magical pockets of fairytale forest dripping with lichen and moss.  Many of the trees amongst the boulders impress me with their tenacity and age - their trunks grown in an embrace with the rock.  

But winter darkness falls early and despite the extra time we have had to explore, and the day still to come, it feels like not enough. I want more. Always more. I tuck into my down sleeping bag for our lucky second night in this remarkable park, as the sound of rain on the tent returns. Another familiar and joyous kind of symphony beginning.

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The scenic route - cycle touring Coffs Harbour to Newcastle

The temperature each day is creeping higher and higher. It is hotter than November should be although the type of heat changes as our cycle touring adventure progresses – there is a dense humidity on the coast on day one through to the scorching heat of the bone dry tablelands. Each morning we start cycling earlier and earlier. We wake in the dark and wait for enough light to safely hit the road. Still, on day four and day seven we are caught out by hot winds, lack of water, tougher than expected hills and the many other, inevitable, ups and downs of cycle touring as we make our way from Coffs Harbour to Newcastle via the scenic route – Dorrigo Moutain, across to Ebor and Armidale, south to Walcha, then down to Gloucester and Dungog then back to the coast at Newcastle. 

2012 Campsites: the best of the best

The tent and the campsite is a home away from home, even if just for one night. It’s nice when a campsite comes up with the goods – million dollar views or beautiful forest, soft ground, water, the right feng shui. That’s not always possible. Sometimes we are left searching out a patch of clear ground between too many trees or pitching on a tiny edge of river bed too close for comfort to the rising water.

However, more often than not, nature comes up with the goods and we have had some truly stunning campsites. So, with a new year now in swing and new adventures ahead of us we thought we’d quickly share some of our best campsites of 2012.

Cathedral Rock – night of the warrigal

Jutting out of the New England tableland is Cathedral Rock National Park – a place of peppermint gums, stringybark and swamp land broken by peaks built of granite boulders teetering skyward. Off-track walking here is a battle against tough banskia, heath scrub and sedges all vying for space in a bewildering and yet enticing maze of rock outcrops, sudden drop-offs and blockages, inaccessible wet gullies and dead-end granite alleys that force slow detours and rethinks.