It made a frightening noise; so frightening that I recall seemingly jumping nearly as high as where the branch had come from. How lucky was I that it was 50 metres behind me though the odds were definitely in my favour that it would miss me. Still, I couldn’t help but look back for the next half a kilometre, it was certainly unnerving. By now my legs were seriously tired and I had to concentrate on merely putting one foot after the other on what would normally be called an easy to moderate track.
Two days clambering over granite rock towers had drained my strength, though my exhaustion was tempered by the thought of having achieved my aims and maybe having shot a good picture or two.
You initially pass through swamps before gently moving upward and then you start to come across quite a few steps at regular intervals. After just over an hour you come to an intersection with an offshoot to the summit. This side trail is not included in the “medium” section; in fact, it doesn’t really rate a mention until you’re at the intersection.
Obviously I hadn’t come all this way to not scale the heights but this outcrop can fairly be described in one word – daunting! The massive boulders tower into the sky, reaching heights that seem improbable from your lowly position with little indication of route.....and it gets steep as access zigzags along the improbable trail to the top.
I passed a couple from Redcliffe I’d camped next to at Native Dog camp area two days ago and they said they’d reached as far as the chain. Well, he had, but his wife hadn’t even got that far. “Where’s the chain”, I asked.
Turns out it wasn’t all that far from the top but they advised me to leave most of my gear behind. For once, I took someone’s advice, and dumped all but my camera about 100 metres before the chain. Life was so much easier without my load as I gazed at the amazing route indicated by the markers and climbed onwards. Suddenly the air was rent by a stark crackle that reverberated around the granite; it was thunder but the crisp sound was unlike any that I’d ever heard before, an octave or two above the usual and it was disconcerting to say the least.
Finally I could see the end; it was a throne like remnant where I imagined thousands had had their photos taken and soon I would join them. Overhead, threatening clouds were drifting towards me and I had no ambition to be the victim of a lightning strike so I hastily retreated to another area where I had some chance of shelter.
Crawling around the unknown I found some untracked places and a comfortable spot in shelter as the rain finally fell and made a mini-waterfall off the granite above. You sort of assume it’s going to finish soon without knowing for sure. This time it did and I scampered off the high points back to the intersection and turned right for the motorhome. It wasn’t that long after when the branch missed me.
Looking for angles to shoot the heights I’m constantly surprised at just how far you can go up and down in a relatively short time while walking. Mind you, my legs weren’t surprised and my gratitude at seeing the motorhome and knowing the relief therein was palpable.
There was a middle aged couple from Nowra just refreshing themselves and he got to tell me that when he’d sat on the “throne” up top he’d been bitten by a wasp. I immediately thanked him for removing that danger from my life.
They told me they’d just finished walking to Woolpack and back which was just over double what I’d just done. Again I felt inadequate but reflected that there were many 67 year olds who hadn’t been here today; in fact, I was the only one I knew of, though when I drove down to nearby Ebor Falls and collapsed for a couple of hours, frankly, I couldn’t have cared less.