The biggest climb on Day 1 of the Murramarang South Coast Walk was the hop, skip and jump at dusk up the beautifully crafted sandstone stairs from Depot Beach to my forest cabin.
In comparison, day two starts with a heart-stopping climb to Point Upright, so-named by Captain Cook when he sailed past here in the HMS Endeavour on April 22, 1770, due its near-vertical 90-metre rock face.
The elevated platform at the top of the honey-coloured bluff isn't only a perfect eyrie to spot whales, but from the lookout you can also look ahead to check whether Durras Lake is open or closed to the sea.
If it's closed, you'll stroll carefree across the sand, but if its open, depending on the tides, you'll need to wade across Alby Mangels-style, your backpack held high above your head.
You can also phone ahead and ask a local operator to paddle you across, but that's not as much fun. It's refreshing to be completely at the mercy of the tides, isn't it?
Brrr! Mrs Yowie told me I should have packed a spare pair of shorts. Oh well; at least the surge of saltwater washes away an unwanted leech I discover on my ankle.
Emerging from the briny, the long haul along South Durras Beach is, for me, the most arduous of the entire 34-kilometre walk. Beaches are for dragging a boogie board along or strolling hand in hand with your partner, not slogging through soft sand in hiking boots while lugging on overfilled backpack.
I only regain my mojo after passing Murramarang Resort and heading back up into the bush. This is one of the few places in Australia where the Burrawang Palm, and those magnificent twisted spotted gums grow right to the beach.
Near Emily Miller Beach (the "Emily Miller" was a small coastal trading ketch which was wrecked on this beach, and later retrieved, back in the 1800s), the low angle of the winter sun makes the trunks of the spotted gums glow in golden hues and coupled with dappled light glistening on the fronds of the Burrawangs, it's like walking through a Jurassic Forest.
Only there's no dinosaurs here, but if you use your imagination, there are a host of other creatures in the form of spotted gums which have become dwarfed due to poor soils, and salt-laden onshore winds. If you look closely, you can make out dragons, warlocks, and all sorts.
The most curious of these appears to have grown out of a stump and has coppiced into four new trunks which together form a naturally occurring wooden well at the base. It holds water where sedge plants are growing. Talk about nature's cauldron.
But geologists who visit here wouldn't look twice at these trees, witches coven or not, instead they'd make a beeline for Myrtle Beach which forms the exact divide between Sydney Basin sandstones and the much older Wagonga beds of folded, faulted, and jagged rocks.
Even to the casual observer, this change is obvious. The northern headland of the beach boasts horizontally layered sedimentary sandstone cliffs and white beach sand, while the southern end has deeply convoluted layers of metamorphosed chert and phyllite rock, complete with black shingles and sand.
Past Richmond Beach, and a series of sea caves, only accessible at low tide and low swell, is Oaky Beach, where behind the dunes is a knockout new campground, including raised platforms.
I've pre-arranged to meet my kids and Mrs Yowie here and we continue the trek south around North Head and past Yellow Rock. It's a bitter-sweet journey for them.
For many years, we used to bunk down in a rustic old beach house, maintained by national parks, at Yellow Rock. It was our go-to escape a couple of times a year. That was, until it was discovered by others. Now it's solidly booked a year in advance. "Daddy, your article calling it one of the best beach shacks in Australia didn't help," grumbles Emily as we give it a wide berth.
I can't help but think of that modest beach shack as a metaphor for the entire Murramarang South Coast Walk.
Some more mature readers will recall stepping out along this section of coast 50-plus years ago on a maze of abalone poacher tracks. This new walk has formalised those footpads and with increased popularity it will never be the same again. But special places are for us all to share, aren't they? To keep them to ourselves would be selfish, wouldn't it?
On those fun-filled family trips to Yellow Rock, we'd often pick our way through coastal scrub and slide down the steep scree slope to Maloneys Beach, where we'd buy an ice-cream at the shop before scrambling back up the hill like mountain goats back to our coastal hideaway.
Not anymore. The 34-kilometre walk ends abruptly with a metal staircase with more than 100 steps drilled into the scree slope. It's an incongruous way end to the walk - which predominantly winds along a spectacular stretch of coastline.
Of course, the stairs are much safer and practical than the alternative, and will save us having to re-patch the bottom of our trousers again. However, it's also an obvious sign that whether we like it or not, the secret is well and truly out.
With its secluded azure bays and coves, rugged headlands, dramatic rock platforms and sparkling ocean vistas, I guess it was only a matter of time. But try telling that to Emily.
To book and for full details: Visit nswparks.info/MSCW
Limestone cave memories run deep
This column's recent exposé on the limestone caves around central Canberra prompted a bulging mailbag.
"The outcrop at Acton had a reasonable-sized cave that people could explore," reports Mick Mason, adding "I understand it became a tip for a time before it was submerged under the waters of the lake."
Mick further reports that his father, who worked with the crew that built Lake Burley Griffin, would tell him about the incredible amount of concrete that went into the foundations of buildings like the National Library of Australia because "load after load would dribble down into the caves and be lost".
Meanwhile, several readers asked why the Cotter Caves are off-limits to the public. "What a great boost it would be to tourism in our area if organised tours operated there," says John Higgins of Duffy.
I wouldn't be holding your breath, John - each time I've asked park authorities whether they'll ever open them to the public again, I'm met with a similar response: "No - due to safety, vandalism and conservation concerns."
The conservations grounds mainly revolve around the bent winged bat, which it is hoped will return in numbers to the cave due to a lack of human disturbance.
However, the vandalism and safety concerns could be minimised if the cave was opened only to accredited tourism operators like it was in the 1940s and 50s when Stan Margules would lead willing participants into the cave.
Several years ago, Max Hill of Griffith shared with me his memories of when he regularly ventured into the cave with Stan as a teenager in the 1940s.
"Stan was generally helpful and tolerant but had a sharp eye for those who broke the well-known rules," revealed Max. "Somewhat fearfully we used to climb down to the rocky floor of the cave with no torch, just matches and cigarette lighter to light up our way."
WHERE IN THE REGION?
Rating: Medium - Hard
Clue: 1120m
How to enter: Email your guess along with your name and address to tym@iinet.net.au. The first correct email sent after 10am, Saturday June 24 wins a double pass to Dendy, the Home of Quality Cinema.
Last week: Congratulations to Alison Allen of xxx who was first to identify last week's photo as a cast iron bulls head water fountain on the wall (opposite the Court House) of the former Berrima Gaol. The overflow of water from the prison used to gush out of the head and into a trough below for passing horses to drink.
Alison and her husband particularly enjoyed reading the first instalment on the Murramarang South Coast Walk as they were married on Depot Beach and try to stay there for a week each year.
Did You Know? At Berrima Gaol, between 1863 and 1868, speech was forbidden for the first nine months of a prisoner's sentence.
SPOTTED
On the Murramarang South Coast Walk you are likely to encounter all sorts of wildlife, from pythons slithering through the undergrowth to lyrebirds fossicking in the leaf litter.
I have a particular soft spot for the wonga wonga pigeon with its pastel blue-grey back feathers and black-dotted stomach. If you don't' see it, you may well hear its repetitive 'whoop whoop' call that resonates through the forest. However, in terms of awww factor, it's hard to beat the greater glider. I didn't spot any on my trek, but a wildlife researcher recently captured this very cute photo.
SIMULACRA CORNER
Being nocturnal, unless you are out spotlighting, it's unlikely you'll come face-to-face with yellow-bellied gliders in the forests of Murramarang National Park. However, you may see their distinctive signature left on sap feeding trees. The shape of the score marks on this particular tree left a smile on my face!
CONTACT TIM: Email: tym@iinet.net.au or Twitter: @TimYowie or write c/- The Canberra Times, GPO Box 606, Civic, ACT, 2601
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