Revealing Mt Plagyan & The Pinnacles - Mount Kaputar National Park, NSW

This is one of those walks where I cross my fingers and hope the route will 'go'. Especially as we pop out onto the first high point and realise we've tracked a little bit too far north. Which is not surprising as we have no topo map to hand and bugger all pre-trip research that can help us navigate a route.  Even the access road proved so anonymous it took a day to find it. This is becoming one of those walks that we keep re-thinking, on the fly. 

We are trying to find Mt Plagyan - an ancient mountain tucked away in a rarely visited parcel of land at the southern extreme of Mt Kaputar National Park, in north-west NSW. It's one of those spots we have taken a punt on. We spotted it while camping at Camel's Hump in the main section of Mount Kaputar National Park - visible way off in the distance (read here, WAY OFF). But, close enough to entice us on this wild goose chase through the unchanging, sameness of acre after acre of cypress and box woodland. And that first high point, saves us. As we 'pop out' of the woodland onto the rocky hill, Mt Plagyan is visible and close. It also looks spectacular. The punt has already paid off. There is a sweeping wall of rock along its north-west flank. This towers over a deep gully. At the head of the gully is a collection of awesome, rounded, chunky rock pinnacles. Man, I hope our new route goes.

Grattai Wilderness - Mount Kaputar National Park, NSW

From atop the rocky cliffs, the views are uninterrupted. The vast, clear sky burns orange at sunset and again at sunrise. But it’s been *@!# hard walking. If I hadn’t experienced this kind of off-track challenge before I would have left after the first night. Instead, I’m leaving after the second.

Just two days of moving through this wilderness and the emotion that spills out can’t be hidden. I try putting a ‘gloss’ on the place. Then decide on honesty - it’s fuckin’ shite off-track walking. Even the good open forest has so many sticks that trip you, poke, slap, scratch, snag in your gaiter strap on each forward step. Then there’s the sections of dense, sticky hop bush, scratching everything. We have had to push through it with our arms and the weight of our whole bodies. There’s the downright evil spikey-leaved shrub on the rocky plateau above Waa Gorge (pronounced War Gorge, appropriately enough). My back aches, my legs are exhausted, my knees and feet ache and my body craves replenishment. I have burnt so much energy - carrying water and tackling the ridiculous terrain - I can feel kilos dropping off me. 

We are in Mount Kaputar National Park, exploring its northernmost reaches around the spectacular Waa Gorge, Mt Waa and Mt Bobbiwaa. It is incredibly scenic country - from a distance.

Capturing the Ephemeral - mist and fog in the Australian landscape

This is an old, but strong, memory: Caz and I standing on the edge of an extinct volcano at dawn. Mist, settled in the valley below. In the distance, the volcanoes remnant central vent, Wollumbin (Mt Warning), and 600m below my feet lush farmland now covering the ancient crater. We are at Pinnacle Lookout in Border Ranges National Park, entranced and awestruck by the day’s first casting of shadows. 

The sun’s morning light is soft and golden. Birds are calling in the rainforest behind me. The metal lookout fence is cold beneath my arms. The sky is clear. And, the mist is making this moment magic. It has thrown a thin veil over the landscape below. The trees, the paddocks, the farmhouses and dams are a mosaic of light and dark - long rays of shadow streak across the hills like the strands of a fine and delicate tapestry still being woven.

Camel's Hump - Mt Kaputar National Park

Caz and I cross through open forest behind Mount Coryah and steal silently south. It is 10:30am and only 5 degrees celcius. The sky is blue. A north-westerly wind feels icy. We walk for a long time without speaking. This is usual. Many words would spoil the growing pleasure of getting out into a Wilderness Area*; there are few that do it justice. 

The silence gives time for my mind to cast lines of thought and memory as we emerge at a cliff edge and stop to check the view. East is Euglah Rock, north is Mount Kaputar, the Governor and all around are as many cliff lines as you could hope for. I remember how years ago, when my father, a civil engineer, read one of our first blogposts he commented that it 'needed more geology'. In this national park, there is no getting away from it. 

Every interpretive sign in Mt Kaputar National Park mentions vast geological timescales and talks of resistant trachyte, shields and dykes and sills, lava, basalt and rhyolite, organ piping or columnar jointing. So this blogpost I dedicate to my dear old Dad. There shall be geology. And one of the best little off-track bushwalks in Mt Kaputar National Park. 

The Caterpillar - Mount Kaputar National Park

A chance encounter, in the campground at Bark Hut, has us inspired and busily re-stuffing our backpacks with overnight gear. We have only just walked in from three days out in the bush and now this nice couple are telling us how beautiful the Mt Coryah Track is.  Our discussion also reveals that the track will take us close to an un-named mountain of rock we have seen from a distance and are keen to climb. It all sounds so enticing we can't be bothered with our planned rest day. Loading up again with food and water, we stride off up the Mt Coryah track with surprising speed and energy.

2013 Campsites: the best of the best

A good campsite can elevate a simple weekend exploration into a memorable adventure. It can add wonder to a trip. In truth, each of our journeys into the Australian bush is as much about camping as it is about walking. Each adventure is a continuing conversation about what makes a good campsite, what hazards we have to avoid, the best gear for each unique situation, what is the ideal mix of serenity and scenery.

Mt Yulladunida - Mount Kaputar National Park

Mt Ningadhun sunrise

the mood

Waking in the dark, disorientated after a deep, exhausted sleep of wild dreams, it seems crazy but it's time to get up. Caz unzips the tent fly to reveal a starlit sky, a thin sliver of moon hangs precariously in the west. I fumble for my head torch then reluctantly shimmy out of the warm sleeping bag and drag on extra layers of clothing. There is no frost on the ground but a southerly breeze feels like ice and before long my fingers are aching with cold as I prepare tea and coffee.