We headed up on Friday night to stay at Newnes, which was a former mining township but now exists of one pub which is in the process of being done up, and some holiday cabins. Oh, and some spectacular scenery. We stayed at the Newnes Holiday Cabins which are the only option other than camping - but what an option. All sustainable, eco-friendly and boasting solar panels and a help-yourself vegetable garden, the cabins are set in a valley and wrapped by wattle which happened to be flowering during our visit. I almost didn't want to start the hike.
But start we did, the following frosty morning. We'd secured topographic maps and looked up all the track notes we could find and were planning on leaving Newnes and walking 13k to Rocky Creek to camp for the night. On advice from the proprieter, we decided to add an extra 5k to camp at the national park ranger's campsite further into the park. We'd then do a day trip to Annie Rowan Creek before heading back.
The first day of walking was lovely. The track left Newnes and crossed a river into the national park. The first 3k or so took us up to historic ruins - this area used to be a shale mine, and there was extensive and overgrown ruins, the likes of which you rarely see in Australia. We passed old chimneys, retaining walls, and a series of coke ovens which blistered out of the side of a hill. The track then went on to Rocky Creek - a relatively easy up and downish walk. We stopped next to the Wolgan river for morning tea and continued the walk on to Rocky Creek for lunch. This was a little more difficult - had to cross the river and I, ahem, slipped in. But the sun was shining, my shoes dried while we ate, and then went on our merry way (to find only a few metres down the track a second river crossing - but shoes came off for this one!).
A guide book I'd read had recommended doing the walk in August as that was when the wattle is in bloom. It was and it was glorious. Walking through grey green valleys with cliffs looming on either side, the entire canopy was haloed with the beautiful blossom. My eyes couldn't have been happier to see it.
The walk to the national park campsite was also easy, although Tim and I had both invested in new hiking packs (and hadn't been hiking in a million years) so we were feeling a little sore and sorry. One more river crossing and there was the camp - complete with a sink and a chopping board in an otherwise remote and isolated area.
We had a lovely evening - setting up camp, cooking (chorizo pasta) and drinking (whorts. Whisky and port mixed together. Trust me, better than it sounds).
The next morning we packed a day pack and headed off along the track to find Annie Rowan Creek. After about 1k the track petered out as we hit a rocky outlook. We skirted around the river bed and climbed up it...and from there, my memory tends to be a little blank. All I can say is there was no proper track (we since learned that there isn't one as such - it is more or a scramble and see sort of thing) and we got somewhat lost. Tim did really well orienteering - he had the map and is experienced however I got a little freaked out in the absence of street signs! We scrambled over rocks, rushed through glades where we could, saw lots of animal tracks but never managed to find Annie Rowan Creek. By Tim's estimates it was another 30 mins or so ahead - but I'd had enough and we agreed to turn back. At which stage we promptly got lost. It wasn't a lost forever sort of lost - the track was between two mountains and next to a river, however finding our way back across the rocks was very difficult. We are now both nettle-stun and bramble-scratched and I am not prepared to disclose whether there were or were not tears.
Either way, the sun it was a shining and we made our way with much relief to our camp for lunch. We then packed up and walked back to Rocky Creek - my favourite part of the trip. The walk (after our lostness) was simple, there was a warm breeze, the wattle smelled like honey and the light dappled down. Can confirm that there were no tears during this section. We were wise to the double creek trick and took our shoes off for the walk over. The first crossing was fine - all sandy banks - but the second enlightened us as to why the creek is called rocky. Ouch ouch bloody ouch. On the plus side the water was so cold that feet were somewhat numb...actually, no plus side, it bloody killed.
We set up in a covered glade by the river and enjoyed the evening. Tim had snuck in an extra bottle of wine, which we enjoyed with an indian meal. Some little bits of rain started falling, which made us batten down the hatches, but it never actually took off. That night was surprisingly hot - I was ROASTING in the tent (which for me is the most unusual thing, I'd freeze in a sauna). We could hear the wind blowing above and the river running next to us, and it was just lovely. I was convinced the rain was going to come and that we would have to walk out in the middle of the night (cos of course the river was going to rise and kill us) so I was pleasantly surprised that we managed to stay put and dry the whole night.
We walked out the next morning - we'd forgotten that there was as much uphill as there was. Not bad uphill, just continuous for the first section of the walk. But like the rest of it, beautiful glades with wattle and the gentle trickle of the river to keep you company. Dreamy.
(Incidentally - the Blue Mountains police stations loan out Personal Locater Beacons. We borrowed one Just In Case. Didn't need it but was wonderful to have the peace of mind it brought).
Possibly one of the nicest things about this walk - not another soul along the way. From the moment we left Newnes until we returned, there was nobody. No bloody Annie Rowan, noone. Tops.
