The wild and crazy west - bushwalking on the Bibbubulum Track from Bow Bridge to Denmark

The forest smells of sun-warmed rain. The trees by the track drip with water. It wets my boots and I feel damp leaves against my bare arms.  The path winds between twisted, low gum trees. But, this kind of track walking makes me look inwards more than outwards. A dozen ideas, conversations, random stories and thoughts jostle loudly in my head. 

It feels both cleansing and annoying to let the internal noise run its wild path as we leave the road behind us and begin climbing towards Nut Lookout. The white sand track becomes mesmerising. I watch my feet and am still only half aware of my surroundings so that Caz has to stop me and bring me to the moment. Look at the view, he says. It ranges across verdant farm paddocks to the coast that stretches eastwards. I search, uselessly, for the exact route of the Bibbubulum Track, and where it will takes us over the next 7 days as we wend our way from our starting point (Conspicuous Beach) all the way to the town of Denmark, about 82km east. 

There are track notes for this walk in plenty of obvious places - the reliable and endlessly admirable authors John and Monica Chapman cover this section in their Bushwalking in Australia book. And you can get detailed notes through the Bibbubulum Track website as well as a plethora of other information online and in print.

What you will get here, at awildland, is a combination of the noise in my head and Caz's beautiful images. You'll get the cleansing process that comes with long walks.

Moses Rock and the first commandment in off-track bushwalking - Nymboi-Binderay National Park, NSW

As the lay of the land drops away, we begin down a gentle slope. I notice Caz keeps stopping. Every now and then he looks around the forest with searching eyes. This is Caz taking me for our first off-track walk together (many years ago now but I can still vividly recall this moment) him constantly looking around, checking back over his shoulder. He claims he has been here before but as he stops yet again I grow increasingly nervous. He looks lost to me.

We push through the light scrub and fallen logs. The walking is slow and precise - stepping carefully through long grass, pushing past lanky stalks of cassinia, resting a hand on the rough skin of stringybarks.

Steep Drop Falls - two hundred years of wonder

Everything is gone. The forest of stringybarks, manna gum and she-oak ends abruptly. The very ground drops away at a cliff.  A hole, more than 200m deep, opens up before me and I step to the edge of nature's open cut. It is all air and shadow ahead. 

In 1818, the colonial explorer John Oxley, travelling east from Macquarie Marshes and over the Peel and MacDonald Rivers, stood in awe near this exact spot on the edge of the New England tablelands. Nearly two hundred years apart he and I equally impressed by the view. 

He wrote in his journal: "It is impossible to form a correct idea of the wild magnificence of the scenery without the pencil of a Salvator." 

I have only a pencil from the Queensland Gallery of Modern Art (GOMA). I shall to do my best with it; hopefully drawing with words the spectacle of Steep Drop Falls in Oxley Wild Rivers National Park, NSW.

Stone Country - an overnight bushwalking adventure in Gundabooka National Park, NSW

This story is a reminder to never underestimate the small walks. The shortest off-track sortie can reap great rewards (I've said this before, haven't I). Our night on the red cliffs of Gunderbooka, dazzled by the earth's curvature, awoken by the strange visitations of water birds and humbled by the smallness of our place in nature, taught this to me again.

The Red Rocks - Wollemi National Park, NSW

Ahead lies our destination, Mt Dawson rising gently out of the surrounding plateau and visible through the trees as we stand atop some rocks. It is an hour or more walk away, weaving between numerous sandstone pagodas where they break out of the scrappy forest. And, I already know we are not going to make it. It is not that the forest is too thick or the afternoon too late.  It is the fault of beauty.

Having left the car mid-morning, we have wandered up Little Capertee Creek, climbed the steep slope to the top of the scarp and onto the Capertee-Wolgan Divide, a narrow run of range separating two valleys. We have continued across the narrow divide to check out the view from the other side. And, this is where the plan goes awry.

The song of the wild lands - Girraween National Park, Queensland

A lanky, dark-haired man strolls over to me in the car park. I am standing there making final adjustments to my pack. It bites into my shoulders loaded with winter walking gear and a couple of days of food.

"Have you seen any lyrebirds on your walk," he asks.

At this stage, I haven't been on my 'walk'. I am waiting for Caz, who is in the Visitor Information Centre at the entrance of Girraween National Park, in southern Queensland. We are about to start an overnight exploration around Mt Norman, the highest peak in the park at 1,267m. 

Walking the Dark Sky Park - New South Wales

Journal entry: Packed backpacks with three days worth of food in the hope of finding enough water to stay out that long. Parked at Pincham Camp, grabbed one litre of water each. Plan was to fill up at Spirey Creek and camp on Bress Peak. Old maps show a walking track up onto Bress Peak, now disused and invisible. Set off walking. Spirey Creek dry. Kept walking. Spirey Creek still dry. Rethink plan.

We have blogged about Warrumbungle National Park only once before. It is a long way west in NSW, so we don't visit often. It is also quite a dry park, with mainly ephemeral creeks. Its network of trails climb the high, dry ridge lines.  Carrying litres of water for overnight walks is unavoidable and restocking supplies along the way needs careful planning. We knew this before setting out with our measly one litre each. But, we always have a plan B up our sleeve.