Having been super busy with work and doing a lot of overtime and weekend shifts (not a complaint, money in the bank for a holiday to Iceland next year!) I had been getting really antsy about not getting out in nature for a walk. Although I had quite a few things occur between now and my last post, I will leave that for the end of this post for anyone who cares to read and get straight on to Bens Walk.
I had been meaning to do the walk for almost a year after learning it was Dog friendly, as I love being able to take my little girl Orla with me. So I finally said to my Wife that we were going to go on the weekend, I locked it in, knowing the weather was too be nice and sunny (or monstrously hot according to my Wife).
"Where are we even going?" She asked in the morning as I packed my backpack with water enough for the three of us.
"I dunno, I looked it up and it just said it starts at Nowra Showground so just GPS to there." I told her as I tied the laces on my brand new hiking boots I had bought for my recent 31st birthday.
We jumped in the car and I set up the bluetooth, asking her what she wanted to listen to.
"Just not jazz." She responded as I had been blasting Louis Armstrong, Charlie Parker and Dizzie Gillespie all week around the house. I chucked on some John Butler Trio, and we set off with Orla super excited for her adventure.
I always find the drive down the coast particular pleasant, maybe some part of me is always reminded of going down there multiple times a year when I was younger with my Dad and my brothers, as we frequently went camping at Coolendel Campground along the Shoalhaven when I was younger, and it's some of the best memories I have.
We arrived at the Nowra Showground, pulling up in the street just before the entry and putting on sunscreen. We hopped out of the car into the hot sun and walked into the showground.
We were surprised by the sign allowing Dogs off leash, but kept Orla on a lead as we didn't trust her to not run in front of cars.
We soon noticed the area was a campground and wasn't too busy, but imaged it would get much busier in the lead up to Christmas.
"Is there a toilet around?" I asked looking around while we also looked for the start of the walk.
My Wife rolled her eyes at my frequent need of the toilet, (due to bladder damage during my Stem Cell Transplant).
Right in front of us was a block with the toilets, I handed the lead with Orla to my Wife and quickly ducked into the large room, with showers that I figured was the campers. I looked around before finding the toilet with a sticker warning of asbestos that gave me pause, before quickly ducking in and looking around for openings in the wall and slightly holding my breath.
As I left I noticed someone had drawn a picture on the back of the door warning of Snakes, reminding me to keep more of an eye out than usual as I had to worry about my Dog, not myself (who I worry little about).
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| *tread |
After leaving my Wife walked to the opposite side to find the female door locked, before trying to enter the men's and finding it locked.
"It must just be for campers." I said, pointing at a point next to the door that looked like a card swipe.
My Wife was annoyed, and I said that surely there would be a public toilet in the showgrounds, before walking up a short way and finding them right next to a sign pointing us in the direction of Bens Walk.
I quickly gave Orla a big drink from a tap here as to not waste any of the water I had packed and we followed the direction of the signpost down to Hanging Rock Lookout, overlooking the Shoalhaven River.
We turned right and began following the stairs down towards the river.
After reaching the bottom of the stairs we passed through the split rock that didn't allow abseiling and turned left to continue on that path down below the Hanging Rock Lookout.
As we continued along I there were more moments of stairs and I noticed that all the plants down by the water were looking much greener compared to up at the showground.
I noticed the walk was now turning in away from the Shoalhaven, but still along a little river. I questioned out loud what an offshoot of a main river was called.
"Is it an Estuary?" I asked before shaking my hand, unable to think of what it might be. But I was right as we were no longer following along the Shoalhaven but Nowra Creek.
We followed the trail on a short distance before the trail split in 3 different directions. Left, looking like it headed back uphill, right over a bridge and straight ahead.
Of course I was excited to cross the bridge, having not a few days early been messaging my brother Scott about how good the 'Rope Bridge Trope' was.
As I began crossing with Orla admiring the water way, a loud boat passed by blasting loud music, but was quickly gone.
"Does it move?" My Wife asked me.
"No it's pretty steady." I said as I continued admiring the creek.
My Wife began to cross shortly after me.
"It moves!" She said, and quickly ran across as if she was afraid it would collapse on her.
I finally met up with her on the opposite side, which opened to a meadow filled with long grass. My Wife began talking like she wanted to go back, fearful of Snakes in the long grass after I had told her of the image drawn on the back of the door.
I stood for a bit trying to convince my Wife to follow the path and that it would be fine until I eventually began walking with her following me. The path through eventually widened, and you could see the trail was clearly much lower than the surrounding grass, giving ample time to spot any sneaky serpents.
It was a beautiful spot to walk through, by my Wife soon began to complain about the heat and lack of shade (
she did get sunburned in Scotland in Autumn). As we continued across the field I noticed on the opposite side acorss the long grass seemed to be someone's property. The path turned left away from the property and began along a dirt track in between casuarina trees (She-Oaks).
I told her that at least now she had some shade, as I smiled and continued walking, looking all over at all of my surroundings taking in all the scenery. You could almost see the creek through the thick layering of the casuarinas, and another boat when past with someone saying something obnoxiously loud with a thick bogan accent. She mentioned something about someone being stabbed on Bens Walk a few years ago (I think hinting at being afraid of whoever was in the boat), I just replied to her that she didn't have to worry and it was going to be like in
Deliverance (a movie she hasn't seen).
As we cleared the casuarinas and the area on our right opened up to a puddly grass area I instantly thought of and area in the video game Red Dead Redemption 2 called 'Big Valley near 'Little Creek River', if you've played it, you might know what I mean.
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| Though looking at it here reminds me of 'Heartland Overflow' near 'Emerald Ranch' |
There were openings in on our left along the way giving clear views of the creek and we soon came to an area with a sign designating the spot 'Depot Farm Picnic Area'.
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| Where there obviously used to be some kind of jetty |
I expected to come across a picnic table, or something that made this area a 'picnic area', however there was nothing else around, so I assumed the old remains of the jetty might have been the designated picnic area. I queried to my Wife whether or not this creek would be in the book we had purchased her Father for Christmas, (a book of NSW kayaking locations).
Across the creek from us I saw a Mother and her young son doing the walk, heading the opposite direction to us. We heard her calling to him to 'come down' and to 'not climb up there'. I said that I hoped the kid didn't fall and have an accident, thinking back on
the incident where my own Father fell off a cliff.
We came to the section where we were to cross the creek, I expected a simple path at the end of the creek but where instead met with some rocks to cross over. They were simple enough, however there were gaps between the rocks and my Wife suddenly got cross and refused to try and cross with Orla.
I told my Wife that it would be fine that Orla is good at agility. She adamantly refused, saying she was 'putting her foot down'. I stood out on the end with Orla, looking at the small gap across the first rock, stating that I could carry her while I stepped over, as the rest wasn't too bad for her to cross.
She adamantly refused saying that Orla seemed scared, and so she took Orla and began walking back.
I was annoyed and frustrated, because now we would need to walk back to the bridge and take the alternate route down to the other side instead of simply crossing over and continuing the walk back along the opposite side of the river.
I let my frustrations go, telling myself it just means I get to do extra of the walk, even if my Wife had been negative about it so far (not being very outdoorsy).
I tried to tell her to hand Orla back, as she can sometimes pull, and we were walking along an uneven surface. She wouldn't listen (still annoyed with me for trying to let Orla cross the creek). Not shortly after of course, walking along the uneven surface Orla jumped up, pulling my Wife and hurting her back.
I did a sort of 'I told you so' before taking the lead and continuing ahead with Olra while my Wife proceeded to slowly walk behind. Soon a couple who were doing the walk passed us by, and the guy asked my Wife if she was OK as it looked like she was limping. "Yeah, not that he gives a shit", she said angrily referring to me, causing my blood to boil.
As the passed we proceeded to get into an argument and walk almost back to the field of grass barely speaking to each other, before quickly reconciling (and I assume the pain of her awkward fall lessening). We crossed the wooden bridge back over the creek and I asked if she wanted to simply wait on a little wooden seat while I just ran down the end of the opposite side, to save her having to walk injured down. She said she should be fine, but we sat on the little bench to have some water an allow another couple who were beginning the walk with their Dog to cross the bridge.
"Is that a Shiba-Inu?" I asked My Wife, who is a self-proclaimed Dog expert, about the couple's Dog.
"That or maybe an Akita." She replied.
As we sat mosquitos began to swarm us, and I could see them landing all over Orla too, who was having a rest laying down in all the thick and vibrant green
trad. We quickly got up and began to walk down the opposite side of the creek, back towards the creek crossing.
Compared to the open grasslands or woodland hallway of the opposite side of the creek, this side felt more like walking through a rainforest.
As it progressed further, I began to get bayou vibes, though that is an American term I couldn't think in my head of an Australian natural equivalent to that (the closest I could think of were mangroves which is completely different as it referred to specific flora).
My own limitations of descriptive language began to irk me, as I gazed through the melaleuca trees at the creek. I began to think about my writing style of this blog, and conversations with my brother Scott who had criticised it's "this happen and then this happen" aspect of my blog. I thought about how busy I was in everyday life. So much overtime at work, trying to maintain the house, spend time with my family, take care of Orla, and the fact I struggle to find time to even get out on adventures and walk let alone write about them, and when I did write I felt time pressured with the limitations of my memory, to recollect to walk so I would rush to churn out something lest I forget, then I would be disappointed with my writing, unhappy with lack of descriptive or poetry language, that I wasn't writing like how I wanted to write. I thought about how I was constantly entering the lotto, desperate to ease some pressure from my life as interest rates rose, fuel prices inflated, and food was costing an arm and a leg. The everyman struggle that I didn't want. How I envied those who had the freedom of leisure and travel. "Maybe this week I will win." I thought. (I didn't.)
I stopped to video the creek.
"Is that a tick?" I heard my Wife ask, as soon as I had stopped filming.
I looked and saw it on Orla's back. I quickly flicked it away and have her a quick brush over to make sure she had none that had latched on. Luckily she was free of them, and we began moving to make sure no more in the area landed on her.
We soon came to a split in the path, one heading along the creek, leading to the creek crossing, and one leading uphill to a scout hall.
We continued on the path heading towards the creek crossing.
As we passed the rocky outcrop on our left, I pondered out loud if there was maybe Aboriginal art in there, as if I was going to camp in a location a good spot with shelter under the stable looking rocky ledges would be where I would pick.
"Why would they?" My Wife asked me. "They built shelters?"
"Yeah, but going under an established shelter where you can have an open fire, and save the hassle of doing that, I dunno. That's what I would do." I replied.
We arrived at the crossing while my Wife and Dog stopped for some water I quickly crossed over the crossing as I had not crossed from the other side and then snapped a few quick photos as the couple with the Shiba-Inu like Dog arrived on the opposite side.
They saw the same gap we had seen and had a moment of hesitation because of their Dog.
"Yeah." I said to them while I was still standing in the middle of the crossing. "That's why we turned back and walk the other way around." I pointed to my Wife and Dog sitting on the opposite side in the shade.
I walked back to my Wife and Dog to have some water and sat to watch to see if this couple and their Dog would cross.
They seemed like they wanted to, but every time they got near the first gap in the rocks their Dog retreated. After about 5 minutes they decided that they wouldn't be able to cross with their Dog and turned around.
"Not a very Dog friendly walk then, is it?" My Wife remarked.
We began to head back, arriving at the scout hall sign I told her I would quickly jog up to have a look up at the scout hall while she waited for me. So, Orla and I began a fast-paced walk up the zigzagging tarred track to the top. Arriving off the path opened up to and area along the back of houses linking up to fire-trails and power pole trails. There was a bunch of different tracks I could walk down and I didn't have all day, and most probably led no-where and were not part of the walk, I simply turned around and returned to my Wife who was being devoured by mosquitos.
We began the walk back as I stopped to take a photo to our right, away from the creek.
"You take a lot of photos." My Wife stated.
"So people can get an idea of the walk and the scenery. Doesn't that just remind you if Lemoyne from Red Dead 2?" I asked, again comparing the natural scenery towards that of a video game. We passed a couple who were pulled up in a Kayak alongside the creek with Orla hanging her head over the bank looking down on them. "Leave it Orla" I said as we said a polite 'hello' to the couple and continued on.
"A Goanna!" I whispered with excitement, pointing ahead down the trail. I stayed back with Orla as it ran across the path and began climbing one of the She-Oaks. My Wife tried to quietly walk forward and take a few photos and videos of it, but ultimately, I am using the one I took after I had walked back up to her and looked up at it casually hanging in the tree.
"It's not a Goanna, it's a Monitor Lizard." My Wife informed me, as we began walking.
"What's the difference?" I asked.
"Monitor Lizards are smaller I think." She replied before she began looking it up on her phone.
"Oh no," She said still reading, "They're the same. Goannas are just monitor lizards and there was just confusion with it back in the day."
"So, all Goannas are monitor lizards, but not all monitor Lizards are Goannas." I replied, nodding.
We soon reached the split in the path where the wooden suspension bridge over the creek was, with straight leading us back the way we had came, I suggested turning right heading up the stairs saying it would probably take us back to the showground at just another point you could begin the walk from (as the couple with the other Dog had come down this way)
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| A very short way up, my suspicions were confirmed with signage |
It wasn't too much of an incline uphill before we once again reached the showgrounds at a different spot to begin the walk right near a bush regeneration site with a sign detailing who 'Ben' was that the walk was named after as well as confirming my suspicion about aboriginal rock art.
We made our way back to the toilets, and returned to the car both commenting that we probably just have packed some lunch as our stomachs grumbled. We loaded Orla into the car and cranked the aircon for her as she was panting pretty vigorously from the heat and I began to drive us home.
Thanks for reading! - Steven
Extra tidbits! - Prior to the walk I had been asked to take part in a scientific study as I was a survivor of a Stem Cell Transplant. The study was apparently the first of its kind, basically testing whether or not after a Stem Cell Transplant if the donor cells could form in the testes thus if you were not made infertile from the chemotherapy, would any children sired be genetically those of the donor? A very important question, so I was happy and fascinated to take part in the study. This took place up at Concord Hosptial in Sydney. Obviously, sperm collection was required so you can use your imagination there. The Doctor informed the study was happening after someone undergoing the treatment was adamant that a child he had sired was not his. I was also told I had the option (if I was not sterile) to learn if this was the case with the donor cells or to remain ignorant (which some people had chosen). I said I would like to know and wondered why this wasn't already known. I was told that they actually struggled to get permission to even conduct the study due to the ethics board being against it.
"We I think it's something we should really know, not just people getting it but donors out there who have people walking around with their stem cells." I said.
Afterwards I had a wait for my results so went looking for lunch, on my way finding a Kokoda Track Memorial Walk so ended up killing some time exploring along there (giving me inspiration to one day do the actual Kokoda Trail myself).
There were signs along the paved walk, marking different sections of the Kokoda Trail and offering up information about the war and the trail all along the path, I stopped to read them along the way as Bush Turkeys scuttled past.
I follow the stairs down to a bay with some remnants of a ship.
I accidentally came across a guy peeing off of the path into the bush and he quickly zipped up and walked away, I continued following the trail snapping a photo of the cool looking table that was next door to an Italian restaurant.
I crossed the busy road over to a mall for lunch before following the trail back the opposite way so I could fully walk it, arriving at the beginning of it right next to the hospital carpark (not in the random suburban streets nearby where I had stumbled upon it).
The path continued left, away from the hospital, and I checked the time figuring I would have time still to walk down and I began following this new trail which turned out to be the 'Foreshore Trail'.
I continued along ultimately running out of time and having to run back to the hospital to not miss my appointment. Returning back, I had a blood test and was told my sperm count was incredibly low, that I wasn't 'sterile' but 'sub-fertile' and would not be able to conceive with the low number. I was told that I would have to retest in another year as it was still too soon from my treatment to be sure whether or not they would recover. (Though I secretly hoped they wouldn't, you can probably image why, plus my sperm was saved already before
my first round of chemo in case we ever wanted children).
This occurred early November. Mid November, for my birthday I bought tickets in Sydney to see my favourite stand-up comedian Louis C.K.
So my Wife and I travelled to Sydney for the day (in order to try and find me some good hiking boots as we could get none in and around Wollongong), we stopped in at the
Lillipad Cafe in Glebe, an Indigenous Cafe as I had read about it on an SBS Food post and had really wanted to go. I got a wattleseed coffee and the Gangurru Burger, a saltbush spiced Kangaroo burger flavoured with wattleseed, pepperleaf, fingerlime mayo, and bush tomato chutney that was absolutely delicious.
Noticing in their fridge non-alcoholic Bush tucker flavoured beers I bought all 3 and as we walked around Sydney during the day looking for my boots I slowly made my way through all three of them.
I finally found a good pair of boots in a Kathmandu and had to carry them around for the rest of the day with me while we waited to see Louie.
Finally we saw him (though we did endure to not particularly funny opening acts), and he was hilarious, I laughed the most I had in a long while (so much so I struggled to breathe). Four days later my actual birthday happened, hitting 31 years of age, getting on in my years. One of the gifts I got was a Kombucha making kit. And thus concluded the very very end of this blog post, with hopefully some more walks in the future, and a trip to Iceland in September next year to look forward to.
