I thought my Sunday was well planned: a morning trip to Alison Homestead in Wyong and the night concert in Camelot Lounge in Marrickville. But all that changed after Geoffrey called me with the invitation for a morning walk in the nearby bush. ‘We will be back by midday, maybe 1 pm’- I said to my husband. Geoff said 4, maybe 4.5 hours, so we should be OK. Wyong can wait. We walk nearly every day around 3 km and last month we managed to walk down 1,000 steps and then come back up in shape. – ‘Let’s have a new strength enhancing morning’.
So, we met the bushwalking group early next morning at Berowra railway station and easily walked through the suburban streets into the bush. A nice, warm morning sun with a well looked after track among variety of plants, made an inviting start of the day. The little flowers popping out of greenish or greyish sticks and leaves were catching my attention, as they according to my limited expertise, were flowering out of season.
People were friendly and cheerful about the day, and it was easy to keep pleasant conversations and fast pace. We had the morning tea overlooking the Crossland waters, which we well know from our past kayaking endeavours and went back into the bushes.
Soon, the trail started to become narrower with overgrown vegetation, went up and down, left to the right and right to the left as bush tracks do, and then back up and down. “It’s not too bad”, I thought, “We are slowly going down to the bank of river, there’s an easy walking track there, I presumed”. There was one but it was very short. The rest of it was rocky with tree roots sticking out from the ground exposed by stormy waters which poured over them with excess recently. My Merrell hiking boots held my flimsy ankles well and I was happy to be wearing winter socks for better protection. There was hope in my mind that this was the most difficult part of the hike and I will be fine to the rest of the day.
This hope was soon shattered by one bushwalker coming towards us from opposite direction who with a pleasant smile explained that we were only a quarter of the way to Cowan, and we haven’t experienced the steepness of the three hills yet. With a bit confused mind about the incoming challenges, I enjoyed walking and surroundings anyway, but at the Berowra Waters Road I was hot, tired and disappointed that the restaurant does not serve coffee and was almost ready to ask any driver coming from the ferry to take me to the nearest railway station, so I could have a cool shower and lay down.
But I did not. Instead, I went to see a car squashed by a falling tree and had a thought that the passengers wouldn’t not had any chance to survive if they were in. So, maybe I should continue to live my life even it does require an effort to walk in this high temperature.
The first hill was steep, but fun to climb up, as it had sort of built levels. It went up several meters and then levelled for short horizontal distance for catching breath. At some point I was so happy thinking I reached the top just to find out that I was only halfway to the summit. We looked for a shady cover to take a rest for lunch, but with limited success, as sun was presenting its full glory.
The sandwiches were delicious, they almost tasted like taken out of the oven.
A few minutes of good conversation about saving birds and seeing personal passion for the matter, gave me wings to fly up higher. Slowly, the flying became walking and then crawling. I was swimming in my own sweat, cursing Geoffrey for telling me about the danger of leeches and for that reason wearing long pants. The pants were thin, airy, and protecting my skin should I tip over, but at that point the short shorts would be more desirable. Descending on the other side of that hill was pleasure for five minutes and later big effort not to fell. My neck reminded me about its existence every few minutes and calling for rest until felt as I was carrying a rock of spasmodic muscles on my shoulders. My carrying husband released me from my backpack and it helped just for some time.
The effort brought some old memories. International Trail Walker Competition. Years ago, my son was running this part of Great Northern Walk at night. I had no idea that it was so difficult, despite being a member of the support crew back then. “A miracle he did not hurt himself” - I thought. They did 100km in just under 24 hours and his team was 9th in the competition. Very proud of him again, I decided to take my husband’s suggestion to look at the next hill as the first one to walk up for today. Ha, ha.
The second mountain I cannot recall very much. I was walking, walking, and walking, and walking being careful to rise my legs high enough not to tip over the sticking roots and stones. Washing face in cold running water was beautiful and uplifting experience. Seeing young people on the track gave me hope in the Earth future. Maybe not all youths are lost to the computer games and TV propaganda. My husband was holding the trip very well, his daily routine exercises, sauna and cold showers seem working for him, but his legs were shaking too while climbing big steep rocks, I noticed.
The group spread out over the track as those who were fitter and bush-walked frequently could ménage easier and faster. -“Good lack for them. They will be able to get on the 4.10 pm train. “
I identified very much with the exhausted woman standing under a shade of a hanging rock and had a slight satisfaction that I was finally not the last one. Her husband explained that we were on the top of the last rise and the further track is wide and flat, so the 7 km to finish is very easy. “-7? Still seven to the station? – ‘7, stubbornly he said. I am sure’.
He was right it was looooong walk but not so difficult and the mirrors of water to the right and left visible between branches and leaves were great pictures to remember. Fried but not burned out of live trees grown in bird like shapes, gave some energy to keep going. - “I wish I could spend more time with them”, but the pressure of getting to the 4.10 train did not allow for that. There was obsession to get to the 4.10 train for unknown for me reason but possibly we were not the only ones with the booked appointments for Sunday evening. My husband was optimistic. - “We will do it, Joanna“.
Cowan Station, Flickr |
The sign showing 1 km to Cowan was read with huge relief by all four of us. We could hear Pacific Highway traffic nearby. So, we walked and walked, and walked, and noticed that we were going around the valley. In the straight line on the map there was one kilometre, perhaps, but we waked not less than 3.
As my husband believed, we got on time to the station for the 4.10 train. We found the rest of the walkers resting splashed on the hot station platform as eggs on the frying pan and we joyfully joined them collapsing. They informed us that their computerised watches showed we did exactly 19.8 kilometres and, with my walk for coffee, I did 20!!
“What is the physical benefit of such an effort? -I asked myself.
“The whole body needs to adopt to unusual energy requirements -7 hours on the move in temperature 30/36 degrees- so all what was not needed would go as fuel. Great. I had a body spring cleaning today! Old friend, you are off the hook!”
Janna Kazmirowicz Reporting on Bushwalking Berowra to Cowan,5 March 2023
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