This walk takes place on Dharawal Country
Time flies by, and in the blink of an eye it was the October long weekend, which, in giving us the very appreciated 3-day weekend, also gives us the awful daylight savings in NSW (it doesn't need to be daylight at 8pm, get rid of it!).
After two days indoors reading Australian History (I'm reading through the Girt series by David Hunt), and some light gardening (it's stinkbug season on all my citrus trees), I wanted at least one day to get out of the house to go and do something.
My Wife and I agreed that the Monday would be the best time to go, (Sunday was out of the question because she needed to watch the NRLW and NRL grand finals), as many people would be travelling, to return home at the end of their long weekends.
I wanted Orla to be included, so looked through my list of 'walks to do' I keep on my phone, finding a Dog friendly one called 'Simmos Beach'.
I was in no rush to set off super early now that my much-hated daylight savings had come around, so after cooking us a bacon, egg and hashbrown roll we set off north, out towards Campbelltown (which I knew the way to without GPS). I made sure to keep constant vigilance of my speed as I drove, as the long weekend was double demerit points and I thought the cops would be out in force, particularly the day after the footy grand final.
My Wife decided to sit in the back with Orla in case she got scared if we happened to be pulled over for a RBT (random breath test).
As we drove through Campbelltown I started ranting on numerous topics, such as the Fisher Ghost Fun Run that I had meant to do as some sort of catharsis, after being dragged and left there as a child with my brothers while my Mum would go off doing the fun run.
"We would be left on a picnic blanket, and I think it was out the front of some university of something, I remember there being a public bathroom." I told my Wife enquiring if there was a university nearby, before continuing my rant about how I 'couldn't be bothered' to try and do the fun run, having lost all my fitness after catching covid.
"I'll just come up one day and go for an explore along Fisher Ghost creek." I told her. "Apparently my Uncle Mark's house is nearby the creek." I said, before reminding her that before we had the house and Orla we used to just go out for an explore, like 'the one time we drove out to Camden' and suggesting we could do that in Campbelltown.
We soon drove past a little graveyard on our left and I wondered if my 5th Great-Grandfather 'John Madden' was buried there, before I started ranting about how he was sent from Ireland to Australia for being a 'Ribbonman', as I talked and watched her face in my rearview mirror, I could see she wasn't the least bit interested, so I stopped, as we made our way through the apparently dodgy 'Minto'.
"Why is it dodgy?" I asked.
"That's where all the stabbings are on the News." I was informed.
We soon arrived at the entryway to Simmos Beach Reserve, driving down until we reached a car park, where I pulled up, right near the barbeque area. There were a group of young people (late teens or early adult looking), cooking at the barbeque, and as the men were all wearing matching white shirts, I commented to my Wife that I thought they were Mormons, which I found fortuitous as we had just purchased tickets to go and see 'The Book of Mormon' (a musical by the creators of South Park), for the next year.
We applied our sunscreen in the car and made our way back up the road a short while to use the public bathroom we had driven past on our way through. We passed the sign leading down a set of stairs down to Simmos Beach, that offered 4 different tracks to follow, with our intention being to follow the Simmos Track.
We continued up the road towards the toilet block, while three sulfur crested cockatoos, dug around in the ground to my left, as I went to take a photo one flew over my head, landing in a branch up in a tree, and I took a few photos.
"Just a red belly?" I asked, pretty much repeating my response from the aforementioned Newcastle conversation.
"No." They said. Which made me think it would once more be a brown snake, until they described it.
"Oh, a python." My Wife replied to them, confirming she had the same thought about the type of snake as me.
I looked at her and asked if she wanted to go up and see it.
"Of course." She replied and we thanked the people for letting us know as they pointed to a large rock on the side of the road up further, letting us know it was just in the bush from there.
(I have no idea how Simmos is pronounced. I have been saying it like the video game the Sims, Sim - mos, with the mos sounding like most without the t. However, the sim could be said like simon. Ask a local.)
As we began heading back towards the beach, we both caught a strong whiff of paint and wondered where it was coming from. I walked a short way along the sand (but not very far) and couldn't see any indications of paths going the other way (there is one), so we headed back once more along the path towards the road.
As we passed the first car, I noticed a man sitting outside the car with a canvas, beginning work on a painting and realised that was the strong odour of paint we'd smelled. As we got up towards the where the 4WD was parked I could see through the glass a signpost indicating the start of the walk, which had been obscured from our view by the large vehicle.
"It'll be fine." I assured her. "It's more dirty sand, and the walk will lead away from the water and get even less like sand."
As soon as we stepped onto the trail, I felt a twinge in my back, which immediately seized up causing a great deal of pain. I let out an audible noise, and my Wife asked me what was wrong. I explained to her, saying it had felt sore and tight when I had tried to sleep at night, and had felt uncomfortable in the car on the drive up.
"It's from sitting in a chair all day." She told me, as I was doing a relief role at work, different from my usual job, which was much more stationary.
She offered to carry my backpack as I walked Orla, which I accepted as there was significant pain, which although lessened as we warmed up through the walk, the pain stayed with me through the entire walk.
"I know." She sighed.
"Maybe it's because I'm a water sign." I joked, referring to my star-sign, Scorpio.
"Are you sure you're alright?" I was asked.
"No, it's really bad." I said, knowing that I was going to push through anyway, wondering if there were going to be any walks in the future I did without some sort of injury or complete lack of fitness that I'd have to whine about.
"I wonder how much further up the river it will go." I wondered aloud, as we turned left, heading up a short hill which flattened out once we reached the top.
I decided to load up the 'All Trails' app to see if we were on the right way, and it was telling us we were in the middle of the bush and that the connecting trail lay ahead of us. We started through the bush, hoping to simply reconnect with the trail on the other side, but as the scrub got thicker, I worried more and more about an unseen snake biting Orla, and suggested we turn back and try to find the actual path.
My Wife went on a tangent complaint about the lack of signage on Australian bushwalks (seemingly a staple of our walks together).
As we arrived back at the rocky outcrop (with the All Trails app still saying the path was still further back), I noticed a trail heading off on our right and I continued down it a bit, through the scrub and saw the trail was now a big dirt road in front of us.
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The road, looking the direction we should have come from |
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The road the direction we followed |
I turned to look at her and could say her face getting red and how with the heat. She asked how Orla had been walking.
"Good." I replied. "She's not pulling at all.
My Wife offered to walk her for a bit because my back was still so still and sore, I agreed, but insisted on taking the backpack, stopping to give Orla and ourselves a drink of water before continuing on.
It was a scent I've smelled a million times but probably never actively thought about. It was a distinctive smell that's hard to describe. But it was like the smell of the earth. Like the heat was taking the moisture away from it, and the smell of the heating earth is what I could smell. A familiar smell, the smell of spring and summer in Australia. It's a scent I've never had anywhere else in the world, and it hit me with strong nostalgia. 32 years of living in Australia and experiencing the natural world.
It was a smell that made me smile.
Her face was red, and she seemed angry, and Orla seemed to be pulling for her on the lead, so I offered to take Orla, keeping the backpack on.
"But what about your back?" My Wife asked.
"It's fine, like, it hurts, but it's warmed up a bit now. I'll be ok, you're overheating and it's hotter wearing it."
We stopped to give Orla some water, avoiding the numerous ants that were scuttering all over the place, with my Wife once more offering to walk Orla for a bit.
I quickly caught up, before stopping to take a photo of a Purple Flag flower in the bush.
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Patersonia |
We laughed and agreed, and when were a distance away I checked my phone to see it was well past noon. We once more swapped, and I took a hold of Orla's lead.
Orla pulled to the side of the trail to do a wee (she never goes directly on a path, it's like she knows!), but she squatted and happened to wee directly into one of these ant mounds causing us to laugh at her and telling her to watch out for ants.
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Heading left, the direction away from the river |
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Heading right, towards the river |
My Wife got angry and frustrated again, annoyed by the lack of signage. She was hot, overheated and frankly done with the walk, and she suggested we just follow this trail now.
I didn't want to do that, so I made us walk back past all the arum lily stuffed ant holes, to our last split, where the older couple had barely progressed and were still snapping pictures in the bush.
There was a seat here too and I asked my Wife if she needed to sit and rest, but she just wanted to 'get back to the car and put the aircon on'.
I suggested she have a drink of water, but she said she 'felt too sick' to drink any.
As I read down the sign, I noticed an arrow pointing right, but slightly diagonally forward saying 'Unmarked extension trail'.
"I think that slight diagonal means the trail on the right, I think the direct right arrow means the hill we just came down from." I said, and so we headed left, which had been my instinct.
I powered up to the top, stopping next to a fallen tree while I waited for my Wife to slowly make her way up.
"No reception down here." He said, smiling as we passed him.
"Maybe when you get up a bit higher." I responded, telling him to have a good day, as we continued to the shade of the overhang.
Soon the trail we were following opened up, and in front of us we could see the car park, and a lady walking her Dog, who turned off into the bush up on our left and we didn't see where she went. There was a manmade lookout for of structure, where you could see the other trail below, as well as a view of the river.
We continued towards the carpark, but there was another dirt trail heading into the bush, and I suggested we follow it, as I believed it would lead us back to Simmos Beach to the very start of the walk. My Wife just wanted to cut through the car park, but I convinced her we were right near the end, and just to finish the walk down the trail.
"So maybe the bottom trail along the river was the Simmos track?" I questioned out loud, shrugging.
We made our way up the steps back to the car, and Orla didn't even react to the dog, so we reassured her that she was a 'good girl'. My Wife went on a rant about people being not in control of little dogs, that attack big dogs, with the big dogs reacting and people blaming the big dogs and taking no responsibility for the lack of control over the little dogs.
I nodded in agreement, starting the car, cranking the aircon for my Wife, and beginning the drive home.