5 little-known Royal treasures

5 little-known Royal treasures

Royal National Park, on the southern outskirts of Sydney, is one of the oldest national parks in the world, and despite some 2 million visitors a year, has some little-known sights and sites. 

Flowers and beaches, two of the Royal National Park's well-known wonders.

Royal National Park is a 160sq.km area of bushland, with heathland, swamps, cliffs, beaches, woodland, rainforest and some beautiful old-fashioned parkland. It has rivers and waterfalls, native flowers galore, and a rich and varied bird and reptile life. There are more tracks than you can poke a walking stick at, including one of the country's best overnight walks (or a long day walk), the 27km Coast Track. There are well-known fishing spots, diving, snorkelling, camping and mountain biking and cycling opportunities, all within an hour of the centre of Sydney.
But there are a few lesser-known treasures, particular favourites of mine, and I'm certainly hoping to discover a few more in 2014.

1. Figure 8 Pools

Figure 8 pools, Royal National Park

This sublime ocean-side rock shelf, only accessible two hours either side of low tide, has a gorgeous handful of opal- and jade-coloured rock pools that are deep enough and big enough to bathe in. They are all stunning, but the most unusual is the perfect Figure 8 Pool, big enough to hold a small party of people. Some people even bring masks to have a look around the pools, which are encrusted with anemones, weeds and occasionally have fish and even seadragons inside.
Where: Two headlands south of Burning Palms Beach, minimum of an hour's walk from a car.
Perfect for: A hot, sunny day

2. Uloola Falls

Uloola Falls

There is a walk-in campsite near these pretty little falls, but I think the best way to see them is on the 15km loop walk from Heathcote Station. In it you travel through a huge range of terrain, wade across rivers, and have what feels like an incredible adventure, plus have the option of a real coffee and a sit-down meal at Audley half way through. For full walking notes, see my book (available as an E-book) Top Walks in NSW.
Where: Near the centre of the park
Perfect for: A rainy winter's day

3. Aboriginal engravings, Marley Head

Completely unmarked and, like so many Aboriginal sites, expunged from modern maps, the engravings at Marley Head make a delightful excursion for those with sharp eyes. Heading south on the Coast Track, you begin to head downhill towards Marley Beach. There are some glorious sea cliffs here, great for whale-watching, and around the sandstone platform are a surprising number of Aboriginal engravings. Like most engravings, they are easier to view when the sun is not directly overhead, and the lower angle of the winter sun is often best.
Where: 3km due south of Bundeena, in the north-east of the park
Perfect for: A winter walk

4. Lady Carrington Drive

Okay, this historic 10km track is pretty well-known, as it leaves from the heart of the picnic area at Audley. It follows the Hacking River's upper reaches, and is relatively shady, flat and leafy, with some lovely forest. It's lesser-known feature, however, is that it remains one of the best mid-distance, easy mountain-bike tracks in the country, with the 20km return trip perfect for people starting to venture into the sport.
Where: Audley to McKell Ave
Perfect for: Any time of year

5. Cliffs north of Wattamolla

Thin shelfs of sandstone, like diving boards

Perhaps the most popular of all the spots in the park, Wattamolla buzzes on weekends and public holidays, with picnickers, swimmers, anglers and rabble-rousers. Very few seem to head out on the walking tracks though, and those who head north on the Coast Track often turn around before it reaches the coast again. Pity. It's only a few kilometres walk north of Wattamolla to some of the most breathtaking sea cliffs near Sydney. You stand on the edge and look across to see how undercut and thin the rock layer is, then realise that you are standing on the same completely undercut cliff, with very little holding you above the ocean crashing below. It is one of my favourite spots around Sydney, particularly on a wild and windy day.
Where: Approx 3km walk north of Wattamolla
Perfect for: A windy but clear day

Note: Full walk notes for the Coast Track are also available in Top Walks in NSW

www.kensbigbackyard.com.au     

The greenest holiday possible?

The greenest holiday possible?

Forget ecotours, camping and voluntouring: perhaps the most environmentally friendly holiday you could have this year is staring you in the face.

You don't have to go to the back of Bourke for a relaxing, green holiday break.

I've just come back from a fabulous weekend away with my wife. We hired bikes, we swam in waves and lay on beaches, we ate out, we walked, we talked, we laughed. And we didn't even leave Sydney.
In the past few years, one of the buzz words to emerge in tourism has been the "staycation".  In its purest form, it means being a tourist in your home town, while staying in your own home. You turn off the phone, and tell your friends you are away. You not only save on accommodation and transport costs, but you finally get to do all the things you've never done. For example, in Sydney you might finally do the Bridge Climb, or eat out somewhere special, or catch a ferry to Manly, or go to Penrith Whitewater Stadium.
A worthy variation on the pure "staycation" though, particularly in a large city, is to go and stay somewhere else for a couple of days, still in your home town. In our case, we went to Manly, and had a brilliant couple of days on the beach.

Why is this such a "green" holiday?

Packing our cars crammed full of camping gear or towing a trailer, and driving several hours away, is one of the most destructive micro-things we continue to do to our planet. Don't get me wrong, I'm a huge supporter of holidays, and believe that tourism needs to be supported (read the introduction to my book, Australia's Best Eco-Friendly Holidays, for more clarification on this point). But burning increasingly precious fossil fuel in order to move large boxes of metal around isn't ideal. Neither is regularly hopping on a plane to go "somewhere else".
By choosing to holiday in your home town, especially if you choose to travel by public transport (in our case, a glorious ferry ride to Manly after a night out in the city), you cut that environmental travel footprint down to almost nothing. You also get the chance to slow down a bit and enjoy what is directly in front of you, while supporting local businesses and people.
If you're still deciding where to take a holiday this Christmas, consider the merits of a "staycation". Go to that national park that's nearby that you've never explored. Have a picnic. Rent kayaks. Go to a show. Remind yourself what's great about the area in which you live.
For more green tourism options, see Australia's Best Eco-Friendly Holidays.

www.kensbigbackyard.com.au

  

 

Rocky Creek Canyon

Rocky Creek Canyon

One of the easiest and most popular Blue Mountains canyons is now even easier to access.

Steam rises from canyoners in Rocky Creek Canyon

There are plenty of absolutely stunning canyons in the Blue Mountains of NSW – places where millions of years have carved deep, polished slots in the sandstone, where ferns dapple the available light, and water is so untarnished you can drink it from the pools beneath your feet. Often using ropes, canyoners descend into these gorgeous spaces, squeezing, swimming and squelching through the terrain, following creeks wherever they lead – through underground caves, chambers and steep-sided valleys.
A few canyons are relatively easy, such as the classic one down the Wollangambe River via Mt Wilson, which is really just a fun day out on a lilo. Others require a lot of experience and rope skills to even attempt.
Rocky Creek Canyon fits into the first category. There are no abseils, navigation is pretty easy, and the canyon is one of the few that you can do in reverse (if water levels are not too high), making navigation even easier.

Like all canyoning, it is worth remembering the risks. If in any doubt about incoming rain or storms, do not enter the canyon. Be prepared to be very cold, even if you have wetsuits, and always carry warm and dry clothing and emergency gear (preferably in a dry bag).

Getting to Rocky Creek

The Zig Zag Railway carpark is near the western end of Bells Line of Road, about 10km from Lithgow. It's a good enough place to meet, with the last toilet available.
Follow the dirt road out to the Newnes Plateau, turning right at the first intersection onto Galah Mountain Road. You will basically follow that road all the way out to the end. It veers right a couple of times, and wanders through pine forest, native forest and over a couple of graded ditches and humps.
However, perhaps because of road grading during the recent fires, the road is in really, really good condition at the moment, and you should have no problem getting any sedan in there (my low-slung Camry made it with just one clunk on the undercarriage).

Walk in

Towering coachwood

The last section of road goes steeply downhill to a small carpark. On weekends it may be crowded in the carpark. There is an information sign, and an obvious track heads downhill. Follow this almost to the bottom, and then take a major fork that goes off to the right. This track will wind sharply down to a gorgeous patch of rainforest at the base of the cliff, with towering coachwood trees and tree ferns. The little footpad then continues on the other side of the creek, winding up slightly and along the creek. Keep following it, until you reach a rock platform with a 3m waterfall off to the left, and another creek coming in from the right. This is the start of the canyon proper and the best place to don wetsuits.

Walk in through rainforest

Canyon

The start of the canyon, with climb-down through a hole on the left of frame

The brave or foolhardy can jump the waterfall, but there are hidden rock ledges, so it is NOT advised. Instead, there is a fun clamber down a hole to the right, and a rope is currently in place to help. From there the canyon involves some short swims, walks and wades, with a gorgeous narrow ampitheatre of rock above. There are yabbies and ferns, and moments when single shafts of light shine on individual rocks way below. There are also a couple of longer swims, particularly towards the end, and a lovely little jump in of a couple of metres. Unlike many canyons, the walking is relatively easy, with a minimum of really slippery odd-shaped rocks.

Finish

Be prepared, if anyone is really cold, or if rain is looking likely, to take the exit about a kilometre downstream from the canyon, when the creek does a hairpin bend to the right. It involves a mildly scary rock scramble up a 30m cliff, then a wander up the ridge and along back to the car park. You should have the topo map, compass and the ability to find this route. However, most people warm up for a little while in any sunny spot they can find outside the canyon (good place for lunch) then return back through the canyon, and it's even more fun going against the current.

Extras
Some people do a higher canyon called Sheep dip, and then go into Rocky Creek from there.

Note

I shot all my images on this trip on iPhone for the first time, discovering that they are pretty useless in low light - all the exposures were too long to handhold clearly. Apologies for the photos on this blog. However, Ian Brown was with us shooting for our feature on Wollemi National Park to appear in Australian Geographic, and his photos are stunning. Keep an eye out for the feature.

www.kensbigbackyard.com.au

Top 5 Summer Walks in NSW

Top 5 summer walks in NSW

As the curtains open on what is likely to be another hot summer, don't put away the walking shoes. Here are some brilliant cool options in NSW, with waterholes, views, rainforests and isolated beaches.

Boulder hopping across the Snowy River

Mt Kossie via Blue Lake

The Snowy Mountains are brilliant in summer, particularly early in the season when the wildflowers are prolific and snowdrifts still blanket the ground in places. The alpine tarns, lakes and creeks are wonderfully refreshing if you feel inclined to cool off, and the air is often crisp in the mornings. Take care with sun protection though, as you have a higher risk of burning.
There are many brilliant walks to do in the Snowies over summer, but one of the best is to the highest point on mainland Australia via the splendrous Blue Lake. It's a 22km loop walk from Charlottes Pass (note, NOT from Thredbo), and will take you over glorious mountains, past tarns and across the headwaters of the Snowy River.

Angourie Coastal Walk

Yuraygir Coastal Walk, Angourie

This cracker of a walk is part of the four-day Yuraygir Coastal Walk along wonderfully undeveloped coast in northern NSW. Those keen to have a night out under the stars can sleep at the turnaround point of Shelley Head, where there is a campsite with no facilities - just a glorious beach that you'll have to yourselves at the ends of the day.
The recommended 12km return walk starts at Angourie, and heads down Back Beach, around the lovely Woody Bluff, over Dirrangan Lookout with views down the coast, then along Little Shelley Beach. Plenty of places to dive in for a dip, although obviously in unpatrolled areas. Wildlife, wildflowers, wilderness: this has it all.

Minnamurra Rainforest

Minnamurra Falls

When you ask people their favourite walk in NSW (as I often do) one of the most consistent answers is "Minnamurra Rainforest". On a well-defined path, suitable for wheelchairs along some of the way, this South Coast walk, less than two hours from Sydney, wanders through some lovely rainforest, with plenty of signs that point out fauna and flora, such as giant stinging trees, figs, beech, red cedar and coachwood. Get there early and you're bound to see lyrebirds.
The easy loop is just 1.6km, but make sure you do the excellent extension to Minnamurra Falls, which takes the total to a mere 4km stroll.

Mount Gower, Lord Howe Island

Guide Jack Shick, photo courtesy LHI Tourism

Almost as close to paradise as you can get this side of heaven, Lord Howe Island is a World Heritage listed wonderland. Not only does it have gorgeous coral reefs, with turtles and tropical fish galore, not only does it have thick green palm forests to plunge through, with more birds than you could poke a walking stick at, but it has brilliant bushwalks, including the solid 875m climb up Mt Gower. This exciting 10km walk can only be done with a guide, but either of the current guides are brilliant, and you won't regret paying for their services at all over the 9-hour day. In a couple of precarious places you'll even need to hang onto a rope. Simply awesome views over one of the most perfect islands in the world, mist forest and rare species, including the Lord Howe Island woodhen.
Plus, there are plenty of beaches awaiting you when you descend.

Bungonia Gorge

Now how nice is that? Swimming hole, Bungonia Gorge

Perhaps an odd choice, but the waterholes in the bottom of the gorge are some of the nicest I've found anywhere for a swim. Yes, you will get hot on the climb on the way out again, so my advice is to take a nice lunch and spend as much time down the bottom as possible. To find the waterholes, take the white track from David Reid Lookout all the way down to the Shoalhaven River, then head up the gorge.
This is not a walk for the faint-hearted, as the walk down is steep and slippery, and you will need some navigation skills as there is no track up the gorge. My recommendation to get back to the carpark is to follow the gorge until you see the red track marker on the left hand side, and take it back up the hill for a 7km loop. Be warned though, you could miss the red marker, so take care.


For complete track notes, photos and more information on all these walks, please see my book, Top walks in NSW. There is a cheaper e-version to download onto iPads etc.

See you on the track.
www.kensbigbackyard.com.au

Margaret River is overrated

Margaret River is overrated

One of the best-known areas of Western Australia, Margaret River is  disappointing compared to some of the state's other great treasures.

Little Beach, Two People's Bay: not Margaret River

Let me start by clearly stating that Margaret River has some good things. It has some truly exceptional wines. It has some big waves. And it has a great dairy.
But its reputation as one of the great destinations of WA is out of all proportion to what it offers. When I recently went to south-west WA for an assignment, most east-coasters who I spoke to said, "oh, Margaret River?" (And no, I wasn't going there.) It seems that almost anyone from this side of the country who goes to Australia's largest state for a holiday goes to either the Kimberley or Margaret River. It is not only well known, it is almost revered.
There are several reasons for this. It is close to Perth, so the people who get panicky after driving more than an hour out of a capital city don't get too stressed. Or lost. And WA has enough open spaces to get truly lost if you want to.
Secondly, unlike most other areas of WA, Margaret River received a huge injection of capital by rich city investors. Many of the vineyards and other enterprises in Margaret River were established by powerful people with plenty of money to spend on advertising and marketing, and those who were adept at ensuring that government tourism messages encouraged more and more visitors to go to Margaret River. Like almost everyone, government tourism offices have limited capital, and often have to push certain barrows while leaving others to sit relatively unnoticed at the bottom of the garden, only ever seen by the adventurous.
Thirdly, and directly related to the point above, east coasters are generally bereft of knowledge when it comes to anything over the sandstone curtain. If I say I'm going to south-west WA, Margaret River is almost the only place many have heard about in the region.
Yes, it has good wines, but gone are the days when Margaret River was pretty much the only place to get a decent bottle of plonk in the state. Drive a few hours down the road towards Mount Barker, Frankland River or the Porongorups and you'll see what I mean - a quarter of the state's vines are down there, and there are more multi-award winning wineries than you could wave an empty bottle of riesling at.

Some of the oldest shiraz vines in the south west at Jingalla Wines in the Porongorups. Not Margaret River.

If it's beaches you're after, well WA is littered with them. A few years ago Lonely Planet voted one gorgeous little strip of sand, called Little Beach, in Two Peoples Bay Nature Reserve, as one of the top 10 beaches in the world. But all the southern coastline is spectacular, from Cape Naturaliste through to Esperance and beyond, with lichen-splattered granite boulders, gleaming white sand and water the colour you think only exists in brochures. Along the southern coastline, whales and their calves often cruise just metres from shore (visit Point Ann in the botanical wonderland of Fitzgerald River National Park during winter if you don't believe me) and there is a huge mix of sheltered spots and places with wild waves.

The spectacular, subalpine peaks of Stirling Range National Park. Not Margaret River.

If it's scenery you're after, then Margaret River will probably disappoint. Yes, it is pretty, in a Hunter Valley, NSW, sort of way, but it isn't spectacular. And yet south-west WA is full of the spectacular. Try Stirling Range National Park or the gorgeous forests around Denmark, the wild and windswept Cape Leeuwin area, or head north to the Pinnacles in Nambung National Park. Further afield there is the Nullarbor, Kalbarri National Park or the extraordinary red-earth country around Mount Augustus.
My recent trip to the Great Southern Region, the area centred around Albany in south-west WA, reminded me that WA holds so many treasures within its vast sheets of land and crumpled folds, and it disturbs me that some people travel no further than Margaret River.
By all means go there, but just don't stop. Take an extra week or six and get out beyond there to see some more of what WA has to offer.
For more information on the Great Southern Region, look out for my feature in an upcoming issue of OUTBACK magazine.
www.kensbigbackyard.com.au

Baby's Feet Cave

Baby's Feet Cave

An extraordinary unmarked Aboriginal art site near Rylstone, NSW.

Some of the hand stencils at Baby's Feet Cave

In my wide travels across our ancient land, I've been blessed with so many incredible encounters with the oldest surviving living culture on the planet. I compare the pride with which most New Zealanders now hold their Maori culture, with the mixed disdain that so many Aussies seem to have for our much older Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander cultures, and shake my head. I even remember having a strange discussion with a visitor from England, who lamented the fact that Australia was bereft of any cultural tradition. I pointed out we actually have the oldest surviving living culture in the world, dating back an estimated 40-60,000 years, and she dismissed it as "oh yes, but there's nothing to show for that is there?"

Although Aboriginal sites are found pretty much everywhere, occasionally I am introduced to a site that  just oozes "special place". Whether it's the spiritual connection of land and spirit, the echoing footsteps across tens of thousands of years, or just an awe-inspiring feeling from my own psyche, I don't know, but this feeling of awe doesn't happen with many of the more "mundane" sites that I visit.

Places where this sense of stepping through the gateway of time, into a sort of cross spiritual/physical realm, include a spot I was choppered into on the border of Arnhem Land and Kakadu, where art works filled caves, and an ancient Aboriginal skeleton was tucked up in the corner of one cave. I've also been taken to a secret men's initiation site north of the Nullarbor Plain in South Australia. A condition of going there was no photographs and not to write about it, but I can say the eons of men who have left their mark there provides for a haunting and deeply spiritual experience.

Although my experience last weekend doesn't quite compare to these, I did come across a place that had that sense of awe about it. It's locally called Baby's Feet Cave, and is a five-minute walk off the Bylong Valley Way, between Rylstone and Bylong. It is unmarked, and the visitors information centre at Mudgee seems to know nothing of it, even though school groups used to go there.

Getting there

The bird-shaped boulder, Baby's Feet Cave

It's about 15km north of Rylstone, NSW, in a locality called Growee Gulf, opposite the northern end of Ferntree Gully Environmental Reserve. Bylong Valley Road swings downhill around a corner (to the right, if heading north) and a large blue sign saying "Fireplace" on the left hand side marks a fireplace, small picnic table, and room for one or two cars to park. A 4WD track heads away from the fireplace, but turns to a walking track within about 50m. Take this track down into the little gully, past the prickly Bursaria spinosa plants and up the other side. Where the track forks, head left to the extraordinary bird-head shaped boulder.

What's there

Up high on the right side of the rock, you'll see dozens of hand stencils. (NOTE: not hand 'prints', which are found throughout the world, but hand stencils, which are a much rarer form of indigenous art created by blowing an ochre or pigment over a placed hand.) Some are very clear, and others appear much, much older.

Most of these hand stencils are up way too high for the current ground level. 

Are they so old that the ground has eroded away that much since they were painted? Or were ladders or scaffolds or human pyramids used to get them so high? 

I was reminded of some paintings I saw up really high near Ubirr Rock in Kakadu National Park, and when I asked about them was told by my Aboriginal guide, perhaps tongue in cheek, "oh, the spirits painted them".

The spot takes its English name from two little baby's feet, placed higher up than all the other stencils, and way out of reach of even the tallest person. They are an aberration, but a delightful one.

The baby's feet, alongside a hand stencil high on the wall.

There is a visitors book dating back more than a decade.

Nearby, the vast wilderness of Wollemi National Park, holds hordes of such cultural treasures, most undocumented and many undiscovered in living memory and requiring multi-day off-track treks to find, but I found the location of this very special place - just five minutes from the road - so beautifully surprising.

Visit it, but as always please be sensitive and protect this very special Wiradjuri site.

www.kensbigbackyard.com.au

Special thanks to former Wollemi National Park ranger Chris Pavich who showed me the spot.

The best and worst of Sydney camping

The best and worst of Sydney camping

 Big 4 Sydney Lakeside Caravan Park, Narrabeen

Having just finished a pretty poor camping experience in Sydney, I fear that large, treeless caravan parks, with wall to wall canvas and motorhomes squeezed between too many cars, are many people's idea of camping. No wonder so many people say "oh, camping isn't for me". I guess they've had too many bad experiences - perhaps as kids forced on family holidays where they were jammed beside smelly neighbours with a penchant for revving their car/boat/motorbike engine at all hours.
Don't give up! There are still some great camping experiences to be had in Sydney.

Big4 Sydney Lakeside Caravan Park, Narrabeen

There were a few surprising things about Sydney Lakeside Caravan Park Big 4 this weekend. One was its sheer size. It has 260 camping sites, plus cabins, meaning around 1000 people. And even though we were out of school holidays, it was almost full. The small bit of grass in front of the photo above was quickly filled, and everywhere there were cars, tents and motorhomes, with little to no shade (so it must bake in summer). The amenities blocks, though quite large and relatively clean, are a long way apart, and in our case the closest was closed, meaning a five-minute walk to the dunnies.
Best thing: Narrabeen Lake, great for paddling, adjoins the park, and the surf beach and beautiful Narrabeen ocean pools are about 10 minutes walk away.
Worst thing: Lack of shade. Wall to wall tents. Public transport into town is difficult. No fires. Overall, "bleh".

Lane Cove River Tourist Park

Exploring Lane Cove National Park

Maybe I'm biased, because this is one of my local patches of bush, but I love this little hidden gem. It's not actually on the river however - that's a 10 minute walk away down the hill. Still, it's a quiet spot (some would say deathly quiet, as there is a cemetery next door), with a train station a 10-minute walk away and it takes less than 30 mins to get to the city centre. Great cycling, walking, picnicking and birdwatching through the park.
Best thing: amazing to stay this close to Sydney CBD in a quiet national park.
Worst thing: the river isn't recommended for swimming or fishing unfortunately, but you can hire boats, bikes, pedal boats and kayaks at the Lane Cove Boatshed. 

The Basin Campground, Ku-ring-gai National Park

The Basin, Ku-ring-gai National Park

A purler of a spot, this can only be accessed by ferry or taxi from Palm Beach Wharf, or by walking in the 3km from West Head Road (carrying all your stuff. It's downhill, but remember that means uphill on the way back.) There is room for about 400 campers, with a few communal firepits. The site offers delightful swimming, snorkelling, bushwalks and exploring the bush, and you'll probably encounter a range of wild animals, including goannas, wallabies, carpet pythons and lyrebirds.
Best thing: the location. It really is a beautiful spot.
Worst thing: not great if you are hoping to sight-see in Sydney, as you are a long way from anywhere. Large school groups sometimes use the area.

Cockatoo Island, Sydney Harbour

For first-time campers in Sydney, I don't think you can beat this experience. In the middle of Sydney Harbour, so only accessed by ferry or water taxi, this campsite has one of the greatest views of Sydney you can wake up to. There is space for your own tents, but if you are going just for a night, I'd recommend paying a bit extra and using the tents that are already set up, with chairs, torches, beds and everything provided. There are gas barbecues to cook on, and you can wander the historic island at will.
Best thing: early morning or late at night, being right on Sydney Harbour
Worst thing: nowhere to swim or hire kayaks. Also the most expensive option.

What are your best and worst camping options in and around Sydney? Let me know!

www.kensbigbackyard.com.au

The year's top five hikes

The year's top 5 hikes

From Western Australia to New Zealand, here are my five top new walks for 2013.

Okay, they might not be "new" walks in that any of them are even remotely new tracks, however, they are new and exciting to me, with a mix of history, environment, wildlife and experiences . They're all very different, and I've ranked them here from shortest and easiest to longest.

Don't forget though, there are 63 brilliant other walks in my book Top Walks in NSW. It's been reviewed with words like "highly accurate" "inspiring" and "practical". It's designed to get everybody out and walking more – whatever your level of experience. It's a great buy for Christmas, and if you hunt around online, you'll find it on sale.

1. Wilkies Pools Loop Track, Mt Taranaki, North Island, NZ

Swingbridge, near Wilkies Pools Loop Track

Walking on one of the North Island's most perfect volcanos, the 2518m high Mt Egmont (Taranaki), has lots of delights: ice, snow and an amazing summit for starters. Its flanks are tangled Tolkien rainforest, with stunning waterfalls, bubbling creeks, berries and the highest suspension bridge in NZ. In a motorhome you can also camp for free at the Dawson Falls carpark, with a wide vista greeting you in the morning. This little 2.3km loop takes you through some gorgeous lush terrain, and its worth adding a couple of extra kays to walk down to and across the suspension bridge.

2. Weir Walk/Long Cave and Pagoda Lookout, Wollemi National Park, NSW

This walk has so much to recommend it. Pagoda-style rock formations to clamber over, Aboriginal sites, a gorgeous wide waterway to cool off in, with turtles and platypus, and soaring cliffs. It's about 5km all up, and one of the must-dos when you camp at Dunns Swamp (Ganguddy). 

3. Newnes Industrial Ruins Track, Wollemi National Park, NSW

Locals at the Newnes Hotel

It isn't just the amazingly well-kept 100-year-old shale-oil mining and processing plant ruins that are worth seeing on this 6km loop walk. It has prolific bird and wildlife, with goannas galore, scooting swamp wallabies, and endangered birds such as gang-gang cockatoos and glossy black-cockatoos. It's also an introduction to the fringe of the vast Wollemi Wilderness, the second-largest national park in NSW (after Kosciuszko). You can start at the campground, but you can also start at the Newnes Hotel (unlicensed) where there are excellent cabins.

4. Bluff Knoll, Stirling Range National Park, WA

Bluff Knoll. Yes, the walk goes up the top.

It's hard to pick a favourite national park in Australia, as I've had so many incredible experiences in so many, but the Stirling Range is definitely one of the main contenders. It's pretty much the only place in WA that it snows, its soaring jagged peaks over 1000m getting a dusting a couple of times a year. It has rich and diverse plant life, from the lowland scrub up to the semi-alpine peaks. All the walks are spectacular, but this one is listed elsewhere as one of the top 25 walks in the country, and I was stoked to get a chance to finally do it (at a cracking pace with two other blokes) when I was there a month or so ago.

5. Bay of Fires, Tasmania

The gorgeous Bay of Fires

Many people now know of the luxury, stunning Bay of Fires lodge and the deluxe (read "expensive") walking tour along this stretch of the north-east Tasmanian coast. However, there is another way to do the walk, and that's with the excellent guided walking company, Life's an Adventure. On their tour you walk further, do it in one less day, and at a considerably reduced cost. You get one night under canvas, and one night in a beach "shack" (a bit like a family holiday house, with two shared bathrooms), with great food, a knowledgeable guide, and all the logistics worked out along the way (so you only carry your lunch, camera and towel.) It's a corker of a way to see this stunning stretch of coastline over three days.

There are a zillion other brilliant walks out there, and I can't wait to get into some more next year. Please feel free to let me know of your recommendations, and I'll see you on the track.

www.kensbigbackyard.com.au

Note: Ken's travel this year was supported by South West Tourism, Tourism Tasmania and Life's an Adventure.

10 tips for cycle commuting

Top 10 tips for new cycle commuters

As daylight saving arrives this weekend, we enter the BEST time of the year for people to try cycle commuting.

This is the best time of year to dust off the bike and try for the first time, or the 20th time, cycle commuting to work.
Mornings are still relatively cool, which means you can still arrive at work fairly fresh. PLUS, as a bonus, the extra light at the end of the day means you shouldn't need to worry about lights or riding home in the dark.
Many people still find the idea of cycle commuting daunting, particularly in cities such as Sydney which topographically and logistically are not well set up for cycling.
But I firmly believe that for many people it would just take a few positive experiences, and a willingness to give it a go, for them to find the joy, freedom, healthy lifestyle, green credentials and endorphin rush that comes with cycling commuting.
You do not have to become obsessed! Some people are quite happy to cycle commute once or twice a week. If everyone did that, our roads would still be less clogged and safer for all. Plus, you'll be getting a gentle workout to and from work.

Here are my top 10 crazy tips, primarily for those who aren't too sure about giving it a go. For yourself and for our environment, at least try it twice, and let me know how you go!

Top 10 tips

1. Don't wear lycra

In countries where cycle commuting is commonplace, people wear all sorts of stuff on bikes: suits, dresses, ordinary clothes. This idea that you have to be some sort of lycra-loving superfit athlete in order to choose to ride a bike to work needs to change. Of course, you may well find that lycra is comfortable and suitable for you: that's fine. But at this time of year, shorts and t-shirt do me just fine. I do believe that your top should be brightly coloured and highly visible. I wear a high-viz vest most of the time.

2. Don't buy a new bike

Well, there goes any chance at sponsorship for this page. It's little known that bikes have outsold cars in Australia for quite some time  But is that a good thing? So many bikes sit in people's sheds or on their balconies not being used. You don't need the latest $10,000 carbon fibre bike just to get to work and back. Try any old thing you've got, or borrow one from someone for a while. If it is a mountain bike with thick knobbly tyres, you might want to spend a bit of money buying more road-suitable tyres (will make cycling less effort). I bought some recently for my second-hand give-away bike for $30 a pop from Bike Bug. Down the track, you may want to upgrade your bike, but for now save your pennies. Get your rusty old heap serviced perhaps, so that it runs smoothly, and make sure it has brakes that work.

3. Shhhhh. Don't stress about showering

Oh, bound to get in trouble here.

I'll let you in on a secret. Many cycle commuters don't shower. 

Some workplaces don't have accessible facilities, and other facilities are so dauntingly disgusting that people fear they will come out dirtier than they went in. Cycling is different to running at the same intensity - the extra speed means you have wind in your face, and so are less likely to get really sweaty. You also can coast on downhills and along flats (unlike running) so quite often you can arrive at work with perhaps a healthy glow, but not soaked in sweat. A complete change and a bit of a wipe down, then liberal use of deodorant, and I can assure you no one will know the difference. (Of course, if there is a suitable shower, then it's quite a nice way to start the work day.)

4. Smile

Cycle commuting for me, from near Ryde to either Milsons Point (about 15km) or the city (about 17km), is quicker than catching public transport or driving. I pass people sitting in traffic honking each other. I love the wind in my hair, arriving at work having done some exercise, and feeling the conditions, listening to the birds, watching the little things in life. It's not a chore, it's a joy. So smile!

5. Don't start on a Monday morn
The best time to try a cycle commute to your work place is on the weekend. You will get a feel for how long it will take you, where the tricky bits are, and how tired you are when you get to work. If the first time you try it is on a work day, and you arrive late and stressed, you will not enjoy your first experience.

6. Don't do it five days a week 

Unless you are already superfit, to go from not cycle commuting to five days a week (ie, 10 trips a week) is probably not sustainable. You will quickly become tired and sick of it. Start with something achievable and work up from there, e.g, "I'm going to cycle every Tuesday and Thursday". Or, cycle in one day and leave your bike at work, then cycle home the next day initially. Hopefully you will build up stamina and love of it, so that you do become a regular commuter both ways.

7. Play the conditions

When I started cycle commuting to the city, on a route that is more than 50% on roads, I had two rules in my head: "I don't do dark, and I don't do wet". If it started raining when I was at work, then I would not cycle home. If it was raining in the morning, then I didn't cycle in. If I stayed back late to work with a client, then I didn't cycle home. Gradually I became more confident with rain, and then confident with dark, and temporarily had a rule "I won't do dark AND wet", but now I actually love all conditions that are thrown at me: storms, wind, floods, heat. To me it now adds to the fun and variety. But initially, keep all your experiences positive, and within your comfort zone. Play the conditions.   

8. Watch the death lane

Although cycle lanes and facilities are becoming more commonplace and better, some are death traps, and as a new cyclist you need to be very aware of the worst kind. It is where a cycle lane is drawn on a road as an extension of the left "parking" lane: usually a narrow strip alonside the parked cars. These lanes have resulted in serious injuries in cyclists and, unfortunately, worse. The lanes are too close to the parked cars, and all it takes is an inattentive driver opening their car door at the wrong time, and a cyclist can be impaled. This could cause death. ALWAYS ride at least an open-door away from parked cars – even if it means you are now out in the traffic lane.

9. Don't ride in the gutter 

Similarly to number 8 above, another trap is feeling like you need to ride in the gutter on some roads so that cars can overtake you. This is a dangerous practice because it encourages cars to overtake you without there being enough room. They will squeeze past in the same lane and you will have too many close calls. I think it is best to sit about a third into the lane, so that drivers know they have to go around you, but at the same time you are not making it difficult for them to overtake by sitting way on the right of the lane. It is hard to get used to this at first. If you are going super slowly, such as up a long, steep hill, you may find it less stressful and better for drivers if you temporarily go on the footpath, but bear in mind this is not ideal, and potentially illegal (although if it is safer and less stressful, I would still advocate doing it for short distances).

10. Encourage others 

No one likes an obsessive Nazi about these things, but if you can encourage someone else to try cycle commuting too you will have a buddy to at least laugh about the high winds or to give support, advice or encouragement. Maybe it's someone who you could cycle with to work, or set up for the occasional weekend ride. Or maybe it would just be good to spread the word. Remember, our roads will be safer, our environment will be cleaner and we will be healthier if we can become a community where cycle commuting is the norm.  

See you on the track.

www.kensbigbackyard.com.au

Go camp in a swamp

Go camp in a swamp

"Go camp in a swamp" is perhaps not the encouragement you'd want to hear for a weekend away, but Dunns Swamp (or Ganguddy), on the edge of Wollemi National Park, is a camping spot with it all.

Kookaburra Beach, Dunns Swamp

 Wollemi National Park, part of the Greater Blue Mountains World Heritage Area, is the second largest national park in NSW (after Kozzie). Most of it is a dark and impenetrable wilderness area, with a tangled web of gorges and sandstone cliffs. Exploring the fringes of this wild green canvas can give you a wonderful taste of this very special place.

Ganguddy, or Dunns Swamp, is one such place. It's near Rylstone, north of Lithgow, and about a 3.5-hour drive from my place in Sydney, so a bit further than most Sydneysiders could be bothered going. Which is a good thing! The camping area is vast, with separate spots for campers and trailers, and plenty of little nooks for smaller tents to squeeze in. The bulk of the sites are away from the water, but there are a few closer to the water.

One of the areas near the water, Dunns Swamp. Short walk from the car

School holidays it does get busy - particularly the Christmas holidays - so go out of those times if possible.

There are no showers or tap water, but the pit toilets have recently been upgraded, and are cleaned regularly.

There are quite a few fire pits and wood-fired barbecues. Some firewood is supplied, but if you really want a fire (e.g, last weekend, even in September, it got down to 3 degrees), make sure you bring your own.

What's there

Pagoda Lookout, Ganguddy

Smack in "pagoda country", the area has a 3d maze of rounded sandstone features, with mini canyons and squeezes, and rock faces to climb on and explore. Adventurous teenagers will adore just being allowed to roam, finding little caves and climbs and tracks. 

It is not a place for helicopter parents!

The area has a long Wiradjuri history, and there are plenty of handprints and other markings etched on the walls.

Unlike almost everywhere else in the national park, there is a vast, cool body of water, which was formed when the Cudgegong River was dammed in the 1920s. The dam has extensive reed beds on the sides, and rich wildlife, including musk ducks, kingfishers and more than 100 other bird species, wombats, black snakes, eastern long-necked turtles, platypus and eastern grey kangaroos.

The water is great for swimming, paddling and some quiet fishing, supposedly for golden perch, Murray cod and catfish, but I didn't see anyone being particularly successful when I was there recently.

During school holidays, and one week either side, Southern Cross Kayaking rent single and double kayaks. There's a lovely paddle downstream to the weir and back for about an hour, past sheer sandstone walls, or paddling the other way, you can wind your way through reed beds and upstream through interesting country rich in wildlife for another hour. A double kayak costs $40 for an hour.

There are a few short walks (up to about 5km), and they're all quite different, and quite lovely. Don't miss the one up to the Pagoda Lookout, with great views over the water. The "Beehive Pagoda" is the small one directly across from Kookaburra Beach, and it's quicker and more fun just to swim across to it.   

Tips

Bring a lilo, blow-up boat, or something to float on

Bring climbing shoes for some great bouldering. You could even bring a rope for some short rock climbs or abseils.

Some easy mountain biking is available on the tracks and dirt roads.

Bring plenty of drinking water.

It is not too far from Sydney to go for a weekend, or even just one night, but you will want to get there by lunchtime on the first day.

Marathon madness: story of a first (and last?) time marathoner

Marathon madness: story of a first (and last?) time marathoner

Written after the 2013 Blackmores Sydney marathon, when I can barely hobble from one room to the next

After Pheidippides ran the first marathon, just to deliver his one word message ("Nike", or "Victory"), he fell over and died. People seem to forget this crucial part of the story. His countrymen thought "what a great idea –- let's turn that into a race" and so the marathon was born. In the first modern Olympics the event had only nine finishers, and eight were Greeks.

Now of course, there are thousands of marathons every year across the world (more than 700 this year in North America alone) and most of the podia are graced by those with African heritage. In Sydney yesterday, the Blackmores marathon was won by an Ethiopian woman and a Kenyan man.

But while the elite have their race, the rest of us, particularly those on our first marathon, are in our own battle. Perhaps a race against the clock we have set for ourselves, but more a battle against the dark, negative forces deep within us, that beg us to lie down and stop, and question why we thought we could do this anyway.

Anyone can run a marathon  

One of my favourite magazines in the world is the US's OUTSIDE magazine, (it has the tagline "live bravely")  and a few years ago I found an article that I've dubbed "marathon running for the time poor". It was actually titled "Yes, you can run the New York City marathon", but the premise was this: if you have general fitness, it doesn't take that much more training to do a marathon. The emphasis was on a lot of cross-training to help protect your legs, joints, knees, and every other part of the anatomy that is damaged by long-distance running. It recommended six exercise sessions a week, three of which should be running. But what caught me was that the distances, on the whole, weren't that big (and, listed in miles, they seemed even shorter). In short, my short runs (then 30-45 mins) needed to jump up to about an hour, and my long runs (then 60-75 mins) needed to increase to about 1.5 hours. Not a big ask at all, or imposition of time. And about four weeks before the race, you need to do a very big run (about 32km). It looked achievable and manageable in a busy work/life schedule, particularly when I worked out I could run 12km each way to and from my part-time work .

I tried a couple of times to get ready for a marathon, but did my Achilles one year (those Greeks featuring again) and then got quite ill with a lung infection another year. This time, this year, however, I felt ready to go, so enrolled about five weeks before the event.

After all, I really enjoyed a half marathon a couple of years ago, and a full marathon must be twice as fun, right?

The start  

The strangest thing in training is the last couple of weeks, and particularly the last week, when you "taper off" your running. The theory is to give your legs a break before the big day, but it feels weird after doing a lot of kilometres in the weeks leading up to the event, to suddenly be running a maximum of 6km.

Still, we arrived at a way-too-early time of the morning (tip to future marathon event planners - what about an event for us night owls? i.e, one that starts at about 8pm?) under the Harbour Bridge for the tight Sydney circuit. I sort of wish I had a chance to do the Sydney Olympic marathon course from the year 2000, as it covered a lot of ground, finishing in Homebush - you'd actually feel like you had run a long way. But I guess too many roads have to be closed for that course, so instead the Blackmores course has a lot of doubling back in and around Sydney, picking up such Sydney icons as Lady Macquaries Chair, St Marys Cathedral, Hyde Park, Oxford St, Sydney Football Stadium, Centennial Park, Randwick Racecourse, Harbour Bridge, the Rocks, Darling Harbour, Circular Quay and the Opera House.

So we stood at the start line, and a woman next to me had goose bumps in the cool air.

One runner gave me a great summary before we started. "A marathon is like a 20-mile warm up to a six-mile race." Another told me about two years ago when the temperature topped 30°C, and the last six kays was covered in technicoloured vomit, and sprawled runners receiving attention that you had to step over if you wanted to finish. It didn't bode well. He said simply: "the first 35km is fun".

I asked one nearby runner, who was starting his ninth marathon, if he had any advice. "Don't go out too fast."

What's it like?

I hadn't expected to be so emotional. At the 10km mark, as a woman passed her husband and young child, calling "go mummy, go mummy, we're proud of you" I held back a little tear. At the 25km mark, an older man, perhaps Russian, was given drinks, food and encouragement by his wife, and I found that moving too. 

Surprisingly, although I have been running in my race shoes for weeks, I started to feel a blister on one toe at the 12km mark, it grew bigger than the toe itself, but didn't pop. A piece of gravel got stuck to my shoe on the Harbour Bridge and it bugged me for the next 10km as I could hear it "click, click, click on the bitumen". At 15km my right knee was hurting way more than it should have, and at one point my right leg completely gave way, but somehow I didn't plummet to the ground. But 10km later I couldn't feel my right knee anymore, and had other issues. Still, my time was going really well – better than expected, and I was still running ahead of the 3.15 time marker (these poor guys run the whole race with a stick taped to their back and a time on it). They slipped past me though when I stopped for a quick toilet break in Centennial Park.

Because I struggle to drink from an open cup while running (all my training was with bottles, not open cups) I decided before the race to stop at selected drink stations, walk for 30 seconds, and have two cups, then start running again. I figured it was more important to keep the fluid intake than to save the extra seconds. What I didn't bargain on was that each time it became harder and harder to start running again. By the end it was agony to go from a walk to a run and took me about a minute to convince myself to do it.

After the 20km mark, we were offered Gu gels at some drink stations. These are highly concentrated bursts of sugar, in a suckable gel form. It's a bit like drinking cordial straight. I had trained with them a couple of times, and knew that the flavour was really important (some are quite foul). After my first gel, an espresso flavoured one, I nearly threw up - could feel the gag reflex, and just held it in. I took a second gel 7km later and almost threw up again. I gave up on them after that.

Up to 33km, my time was very good and the pain was manageable. After that, it became a slog. They used to talk about "The wall" when marathon runners would run out of carbohydrates in their body, and so in order to fuel the activity, the body starts breaking down proteins, fats or anything else – sort of destroying itself in order to keep going. At this point your brain says "this is really dumb, it's killing you, you should stop now". No one talks about this much anymore, because Gu gels etc are meant to stop it, but I definitely felt it. It wasn't just the pain - by now my thighs were solid knots and my calves on fire - it was the very strong voice in the head. "Just stop. Lie down. Give up. Look, that guy there has. Those people will give you medical attention. You've done enough. C'mon, this isn't fun anymore." I guess it's the ability, or the stubbornness, to override those thoughts that makes any great achievement great.

My aim in those last 9 kilometres was to get to 3km from the end. I knew that if necessary, I could walk the last 3km home. But then, in some sort of delirious haze, 3km became 2, and 2 became 1. I stopped at the last drink station, and looked at my watch. If I could do the last 1km in 9 minutes, I'd make it it under 3.5 hours - which was the best time I was hoping for. As I'd started the race at 4 minutes a kilometre, I thought "c'mon, even you can do that now."

Pretty much every runner was overtaking me now, as I hobbled and shuffled my way to the finish. Others seemed to be sprinting, and I wondered where they found the energy. 

As I ran over the line, I cried, surprisingly. And a woman, old enough to be my mother, was standing there to give me a medal. "Perhaps I'll come to you," she said kindly, realising I could barely go another step.

I sat in the shade and cried again. I really don't know why. 

42.195 km

3 hours 28 minutes

www.kensbigbackyard.com.au

Is this your next car?

Is this your next car?

Why I'm excited about a car race for the first time in years.

Sunswift eVe

For the first time in many years, I'm excited about a car race. And a car. Probably not since the days of the legendary Peter Brock, and the days when as a pubescent boy I had posters of Porsches on my walls, have I cared one iota about car races. Or cars.

Through my journalistic work on science and sustainability over many years, I've followed (without a lot of passion) solar car racing, and in particular the World Solar Challenge - a 3000km road race from Darwin to Adelaide, using only the power of the sun. The image of the founder of Australian Geographic, Dick Smith, squeezing into a ridiculous looking vehicle, with a tiny cabin beneath a huge flat solar array, is burned into my memory.

As the race has gone on, every two years, it has received less and less publicity, and interest in these bizarre-shaped vehicles has waned. Who could possibly imagine themselves squeezing themselves, the kids and the shopping in these weird three-wheel contraptions that at one stage were notoriously likely to roll over at corners or not be able to stop?

This year, the event, which will be held 6-13 October, has a whole new class of vehicle: Cruiser Class. Among other requirements, the vehicles must have four wheels and be able to carry a passenger.

Enter the team of hardworking, innovative students at UNSW, with their Sunswift eVe car. Although the UNSW team have dominated the main solar car racing class for many years now, with an exceptional record with solar cells and mechanical engineering, the team decided to start from scratch and design a brand new car. And this is what I really love - they wanted a car that would excite the public again, and energise the discussion about solar and electric vehicles.

“We want a sports car that will turn heads, that people will want to drive,” says project manager and engineering student, Sam Paterson. "It’s written in our concept design document… it should turn heads, make people want to drive it and be car-shaped.”

Built from carbon fibre, based on the design of supercars, and as light as four blokes, the sports car has 4 square metres of solar panels across the bonnet and roof in a sleek design. It has "proper" controls inside so that anyone should be able to get into it and drive it. Expected to reach top speeds on the track of about 140km/h, it also has a range of about 600km.

Many of the objections many people have to the "solar-powered future" of transport, or even the electrification of cars, have been solved with this design. With an extra battery on board, it could go from Sydney to Melbourne without stopping. It looks great, can be plugged in for a top up of power at any stage, and could just be the way of the future - particularly as Sam and the team are going to try to legally register the vehicle for normal road use after the race. 

Keep an eye out for Sunswift's eVe and the other cars racing in the Cruiser Class this year. One of them just may be your next car.

One of many UNSW volunteer students working 15-hour days to complete the vehicle in time.