A New Kind Of Blue
Newcastle Herald
Saturday June 29, 2002
Tony Troughear's account of a mid-week in the mountains concentrates on the top end, what you can get if you are prepared to spend something on your pleasures.
WE are creeping down a ragged mountain staircase in the dark. Water is dripping from cliffs and trees and our torches are off, but Tim Tranter, who runs Tread Lightly Eco Tours, goes ahead with a red light, which helps a bit.
`Doesn't frighten the animals,' he says, and launches into an explanation of how people's eyes often come out red in photographs.
Tim talks a lot during his night-time Glow Worm tours and by the time we emerge from the bowels of forest darkness into the open air at the top of the cliff we have a pretty good idea of where we have been and what we have seen in the past hour or so.
Tim talks of planets and galaxies, the rise and fall of mountains, Dharug Aborigines, animals and plants, hanging swamps and the glowing worms that light up the cliffs at night.
I'd seen or knew about all of them before. I knew a lot more by the time we got back to the car at the top of the cliff. And, somehow, taking all this in while feeling for a foothold in the dark concentrates the mind wonderfully.
Once a woman froze halfway down and could go no further says Tim. But everyone else, including me, has succumbed to the dark mountain magic.
WE are standing high on the side of a wide valley, beside the unoccupied buildings of Kyangatha Station. The air is cool but the sun is warm.
Ted Taylor is walking up and down pointing out the sights. That's the Hydro Majestic over there. I get out my binoculars. So it is ? that grand old pile, recently brought back to life, hangs majestically on the huge cliffs of Medlow Bath.
We see the Narrow Neck plateau, the specks of houses far over there in Katoomba. I soak up the breeze and the space. To our right is a pyramid-shaped hill. That's Gibraltar Sugarloaf, and that's Gibraltar Rocks. We go between them, Ted tells us.
Ted is Coxs River Escapes, a four-wheel drive and bushwalking company. I am not much taken by four-wheel drive types. I have a mental picture of hoons in expensive vehicles spinning wheels in the mud to deepen the holes just for fun. Another piece of bush stuffed up.
But during the day we find Ted feels pretty much the same. He is not in the bush to tear it up but to look at it and love it. That's his business.
During our day winding across the Coxs valley we see the bush close up. We picnic by the river itself, near a grove of the most ancient casuarinas I have seen. We drive slowly later as a mob of four horses runs free along the road before turning off to join some more in the bush nearby. They look sleek and healthy.
Ted says winter scares some people off these tours. But this is the best time, the most beautiful time of year. He tells of a stressed Japanese client and his wife who informed him they were going to take a short walk by the river. Please don't disturb.
Hours later Ted found them a short way upstream, fast asleep on a rock. Peace had overpowered them.
WE are up on our horses and ready to ride, with Shadow the resident dingo ranging around and clearly eager for the bush. Mel and Shiralee, our two riding teachers-cum-guides are the only ones with Akubras. We all have hard hats. There are seven of us.
I'm on Stanley, a horse that Kathy Barnett, who owns Werriberri Trail Rides in the Megalong Valley, says operates on autopilot. I don't know what that means, but I soon find out. I've done this horse-riding thing before but didn't learn much about horses or riding.
This time was different and it turned out to be one of the high points of our time in the mountains. I had expected a camel train ride, nose to bum at a snail's pace beside a country road, with one minder at the front and one at the back to prevent rushes of blood.
But Mel and Shiralee did a Girl From Snowy River act all the time we were out, guiding us, racing up and down through the bush, shouting out to each other and us, pulling us up, urging us on.
Do you want to trot? asked Mel a few hundred metres out from the gate. The girls quickly sorted out the cautious from the adventurous and split the group into two. Don't laugh, you horseriders who have forgotten your first trot. It can be a jolting experience; and I was jolted. But I got the hang of it after a few well-timed short bursts. So did everyone else.
Want to gallop? This was heady stuff for someone whose most exciting experience on a horse had been when his mount waded into some high blackberries and stayed there, leading to a painful dismount. But we galloped. Not too far and Stan knew when to stop and when to go. Autopilot.
A few howls came from some members of the posse as their own delicate members were thumped a bit. But hey, we were galloping through the bush, with Shadow galloping beside us.
Mt Elphinstone came and went. We rode up and down tricky mountain trails close between the trees. I never knew horses before and now I do. And I have never had instructors in anything who seemed more in control of the situation than Mel and Shiralee.
Werriberri does what they call The Awesome Pub Crawl; days on horseback and nights in a country hostelry with a good beer. That's where riders can really let themselves go. As for me, even my mini-gallop was a revelation. And now I know why dingoes are so skinny ? they never stop moving.
WE are seated around a large table in the Rooster Restaurant, Leura. My neighbour passes me a snail, which doesn't look as bad as I thought it would. Doesn't taste as bad either. Another milestone ? my first escargot.
The Rooster is ooh la la, very homey and very French. Derek Hagbeck shows us around the small Jamison Guest House that contains The Rooster, telling us only reluctantly about the resident ghost. That sort of thing is too low-brow for a place like this.
We sat around a lot of tables in the mountains, notably at the Mercure Grand Hydro Majestic (still The Hydro to most people) where a winter ball kicked off what the tourism people now call the Winter Escapes season. Yulefest sounded better to me. Christmas in June. Hearty meals and big fires in stylish eateries.
Winter really is the time in the Blue Mountains. The place is full of food, full of luscious guest houses and grand resorts, all three ranging from no stars to five. Restaurants in profusion line the streets of Leura, Katoomba and Blackheath. This is one of the few holiday destinations in the State that has no real low season.
I have been visiting the Blue Mountains since I was a child, and my parents before me. My childhood visits were magic. This month's trip was a notch up in knowledge and maturity.
The mountain grandeur is still there. You can still walk to your heart's content and you will have a great time. But there is more.
When you get back from a day's walk, you might like a night's walk. Or a day's drive. Or an afternoon ride. Or a trip in a dedicated bus. Especially, you might like something fancy in the way of food, served in very fine surroundings.
contacts:
* Blue Mountains Tourism 1300653408
* Tread Lightly Eco Tours Tim Tranter 47881229
* Coxs River Escapes Ted Taylor 47841621
* Werriberri Trail Rides Kathy Barnett 47879171
* The Rooster Derek Hagbeck 47821206
* Mercure Resort Bryan Dennis 47 841 331
Tony Troughear visited the Blue Mountains courtesy of Blue Mountains Tourism and stayed at the Mercure Resort, Leura.
© 2002 Newcastle Herald