TOD Tour, Day 17 - Dorrigo NP

Skywalk selfie

Dorrigo National Park is one of those places where the importance of preserving some of the natural environment and keeping it from man's desire to consume the planet, makes compete sense.

Even driving there is a sensoral experience. Whether you approach it in a gradual climb across the increasingly thin sliver of the Northern Tablelands which lies to its west or up the steep incline from the coastal plain to the east, sights and sounds and smells greet you. Everything is green and today, wet. The aroma of fresh rain and stimulated decay are pungent when you open the door at the Rainforest Centre.

Standing as it does on the dividing line between coast and inland, this pocket of rainforest which dips over the eastern edge of the Dorrigo Plateau has everything to offer in terms of diversity both within itself and in comparison to the country which surrounds it. Geological time, gravity and a high annual rainfall have developed stunning waterfalls on the way to the park and main fine ones inside its boundaries. Even on the hottest days, relief lies waiting under the rainforest canopy.

A world heritage site and one of the jewels which lie studded along the Waterfall Way between the Pacific Highway at its eastern end and Armidale at the western, it was established in 1967 as one of the early precincts of the then newly created NSW National Parks and Wildlife Service.

The Rainforest Centre which greets you and acts as the doorway to the walks on the southern end of the park, was established much later, along with the sensational Skywalk - a steel and wooden construction that juts out from the edge of the escarpment and over the highest of the forest canopy. The view is stunning. On a clear day, you can't see forever but you can see Bellingen and beyond to the coast. There is even a camera mount on which you can secure your digital cameras - the real ones, not the smart phone ones - and take that most desired "selfie" without fear that some fast running youth will abscond with your Canon.

The far view is one thing but the immediate surrounds are far more interesting and even on days of close fog, that view is uninterrupted. Birds of all sizes come in and out of the canopy seeking treats, many of them used to the strangers on their oddly linear tree. Peering down through the foliage, you realise how high you are and how privileged to be sharing the experience nature's hard work has created in the giants beside you.

It's the walks that reveal the best of this park and for people with average fitness, they are achievable but not without work. We walked the 6.2km Wonga Walk, in the recommended anticlockwise direction, taking the steep slopes down to the first of two spectacular waterfalls. The track is better than when Sue and I first walked here in the late 1970's. Then it was dirt, which more often than not could be slippery because of the pervading moisture of this place but now it is nature infused bitumen. Roots and leaves and a variety of vegetation types are slowly taking it back but in the most part it was an easy surface to walk on.

After nearly three kilometres and a smaller set of falls which came across our path, The Crystal Shower Falls appeared around a bend, nearly a full five minutes after we heard it. It free falls perhaps thirty metres into a plunge pool and across a cavernous opening which sits behind the last third of its fall. A suspension bridge spans the space in front of the falls, where once the track had led directly behind it but entry into the cave has been retained and improved with a steel-grated pathway.

Standing behind the waterfall's curtain is a unique experience and one not fully captured by images. Long roots have followed the waters path to the pool below and this adds to the visual effect. The sound of the water crashing into the pool on this day, after inches of rain, was in direct competition to speech.

Once we had exhausted our photographic hunger, we sat beside the falls for refreshments and took, probably, the best selfie ever.

Our reluctance to move on and especially to go lower still, was rewarded about ten minutes later by our arrival at Tristania Falls. Unlike Crystal Shower Falls, the water here runs across the rock face, taking up many pathways both into and also bypassing small splash pools before racing on. Another suspension bridge takes you across the face of the falls, with it extending above and below you. It is different but no less impressive.

From this point of the walk, at approximately the halfway mark, you begin a long, slow, upward climb which passes below the first half of  the track. Some of it is undulating, some of it level but for much of the time, it is a long, steady climb. By the time we reached the Rainforest Centre, all thoughts of a coffee and cake reward were gone as the cafe had long since shut. We were sweat from top to toe but not as worse for wear as our thoughts might have imagined. Sue, thought incapable of such walks twelve months ago, had coped better than expected and although slower than in bygone days, I still got there. The heavy, humid air, did no favours for my asthma but artificially propped up or not, I made it.

We drove through Dorrigo for a late afternoon viewing of Dangar Falls, located just outside Dorrigo on a road that will eventually take you to Coffs Harbour the original way, through Ulong and Coramba and past one of my favourite Australian place names, Upper Bobo. To think such a locality could be divided into and upper and lower! The falls were as I remembered them, having driven this way in 1977 in my original vehicle, a four door 1968 Cortina, which I would write off outside Kootingal only weeks later. It was the fencing and picnic area that were different. In 1977, you simply walked to the edge and looked. Perhaps in Western Australia, you still would.

After the falls, we followed a lesser known route which departs from the Waterfall Way almost immediately before it begins its descent and runs along the top of the mountain - with a few turns and a single lane for good measure - until you reach Griffiths Lookout. The view would have been superb on a late afternoon which didn't accompany the mist with rain. We didn't get out of the car.

Our last act of the afternoon was to detour off the Waterfall Way between the base of Dorrigo Mountain and Bellingen, to a quiet little crossing over the Little North Arm of the Bellinger River at a point where the Summerville Road crosses. Less than a kilometre off the Waterfall Way, this quiet spot with it low-lying road bridge - different now than it was in 1977 - was the place where the ashes of Sue's father John Gibbens were scattered and then, less than a year later, those of his grandmother, Kate Knapman nee Margaret Stuart. It was a place we had found only once before and given other tasks we hope to achieve before leaving Nambucca, it was a significant thing to do.

Our return to Nambucca was quiet until we had to get out of the car. Parts of us groaned and complained and made it sound like it was a corporate decision. Our mouths just went along for the hell of it.

The hot chips and cold beer were suitable compensation.

TOD Tour, Day 13 - Drive To Tamworth

The for the first time in almost two weeks, we set an alarm for the early departure and our drive back to Tamworth. The repairer finally had all the parts and it was time to take the Forester back home. We left our soaked little Avan behind at 7:30am and took to the road.

Soon after leaving, the weather returned to its foulest and remained our travelling companion all the way up the Bellinger Valley, the climb up Dorrigo Mountain and a well known path to the Ebor store.

There were compensations.

It wasn't hard to see why the Bellinger River had been under scrutiny and placed under a moderate flood warning for the past few days. Before we even saw the river, the valley leading to Bellingen was wet, with heavy rain still falling as we headed west. The road surface was pitted with potholes, some of them deep and inconvenient and the conditions tricky, especially when trapped behind an overly cautious Queenslander who crawled along at hardly more than 60kms/hour. In such circumstances, even when unencumbered by the van, you have no option but to play the waiting game ... unless you are impatient to die and driving a BMW. As experience has taught, its always some other idiot you have to watch out for. My defensive driving skills, taught to me b my father all those years ago when I was a hot-headed twenty year old, stood me in good stead.

Bellingen looked pretty in the rain and the Kombi looking for a hippy park in the main street gave us plenty of time to see it.

The climb up Dorrigo Mountain was free of traffic but I remember it as being more difficult and steeper. Its remarkable the difference a good vehicle makes.

Compensation two came near the top.

Newell Falls

The Newell Falls, only a few kilometres from the crest of the mountain, were running with great vivacity, covering the road with a thick spray despite filling the big culvert under it. We had seen them in good voice before but never before calling this loudly, running down the mountain at the top of its volume like boys escaping from school at home time. It made a spectacular sight but was a mere taste of what was to come.

We made two more stops at Dorrigo. The first, at Dorrigo National Park, was ostensibly for toilets - all that rushing water was inspiring - but we took advantage of the stop for a short stroll along a fog-bound Skywalk. The platform, jutting out as it does above the canopy of the rainforest, may have been short on views but the bird life was active. We saw a brush turkey, could hear a pair of Eastern Whip-birds and watched a Yellow-Faced Honeyeater flitting about in the high leaves, at times less than a metre away. Back in the car as the rain returned, a family of Superb Fairy Wrens were working the grassy areas; the male on a branch watching for danger and the females and young scouring the ground. It was one of those times when the inexperienced eye might complain that there was nothing to see.

The second stop was in Dorrigo itself, as I tried to sort out the hire car we would be picking up in Tamworth. GIO's only disappointment for us in an otherwise efficient and comforting treatment of the situation with our car, was to book us a Corolla Hatchback as the replacement vehicle, after assuring us of a similar vehicle as our own. There was no way our gear would fit into a Corolla! Wait time on the phone was too great and the internet proved slow, so we pressed on to Ebor. Once there, we had the usual surprisingly good coffee/tea at the Ebor Store and a delicious slice of gluten-free almond cake, while I sorted out the hire car. Unfortunately, it would involve taking what was booked, staying in Tamworth for two nights and then changing to a larger vehicle.

I find shrugs useful under such continuing circumstances.

Upper Falls, Ebor

We had anticipated the twin falls at Ebor since leaving Dorrigo and they weren't to disappoint. From the moment we opened the car doors, the roar coming from the closer Upper Falls was enough to peak our expectations but even that was no preparation. Having lived close enough - for many years in Armidale and then in a bush work setting at Wongwibinda - to come here for picnics, we have seen these falls often but never in such robust and opulent form. The cascade was enormous and the rush of megalitres over the edge was broad and thick and characterised by the tans and deep browns of river beds and banks being scoured from place by the pace and power of the increased flow. A huge boulder halfway down was suffering a fearful pounding, as water collided with it and then splintered of in all directions, catching the sunlight which was beginning to appear and sparkling highlights like intermittent Christmas lights. Capturing it in the camera was a fools errand, even with all the tricks I know. It was too wild to tame with digital images which wouldn't have the noise or the presence it exerted over us.

Inspired, we walked the track which follows the edge of the gorge as it begins to open out into the Guy Fawkes National Park. The bush, soaked from days of rain, was all shades of green, offset by the orange and browns of peeling bark on the Snow Gums and Mountain Gums which stood dominant among so many other smaller species. Some old wooden yards and a cattle race still stood, covered in lichen and moss which were slowly taking the timber back into the fold of the colours from which they came.

The track emerged onto the picnic area and two viewing platforms. One looks to the west across the expanse of what is still largely the hundred thousand hectare wildness of Guy Fawkes NP. The Guy Fawkes River, fresh and invigorated from its double fall off the narrow spur of the Northern Tablelands that the Ebor area represents, has cut a winding path and created huge spurs above it, taking advantage of an old fault line. Its joined along the way by other side gorges where the Aberfoyle, Sara and Henry Rivers have made their own mark on the landscape. A habitat for more than fifty threatened plant and animal species, it is perhaps best known for the controversy which erupted in late 2000 when six hundred wild horses - the descendants of the Walers used at the famous charge by the 12th Light Horse at Bathsheba in 1917 - were culled by the NSW National Parks Service.

The other viewing platform offers the only uninterrupted view of the Lower Falls and a near complete view of the Upper Falls, in the distance, behind it. Its a much longer drop but being so much further away, it lacks the near and present danger that the Upper Falls inflicts.

Either way, our hour here was stunning.

Lunch at Wollomombi Falls

More rain along the Waterfall Way and lunch at Wollomombi Falls, in the northern end of the far ranging Oxley Wild Rivers NP. Once thought to be the tallest falls in Australia, they are at best the second, although debate leads strongly to suggest that both Tin Mine Falls in the Snowy Mountains and Wallaman Falls near Ingham in Queensland, have their measure. The Wollomombi and Chandler Rivers make their confluence at the base of these twin falls but even though both were running well, they were far from spectacular and because of their alignment to the sun, as always, difficult to capture in the camera with out too little or too much light. The compromise seems insipid. Sandwiches were made even more pleasant by the near obligatory conversation with fellow travellers.

Onto Armidale and then straight for a let afternoon arrival in Tamworth, organising accommodation along the way. It seemed weird booking into a caravan park in our own town but such is life.

Cars were exchanged and we managed a quick coffee break at Gemocha on Goonoo Goonoo Rd, before hasty visits -  us tired and exhausted and lousy company - to both sons and their families, to pick up things we needed.

Pasta and beer for dinner and a good night's sleep.