Simmos Beach

   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.

I soon caught up to my Wife who had walked ahead with Orla, and I realised a couple with their young child who were walking past were speaking to her. I caught a bit of their conversation, saying that there was a large snake off the path up ahead, giving me flashback to a very similar conversation in Newcastle just a month earlier.
"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.

We stopped in at the toilet first, with Orla giving a little growl at as one of the Mormons also went to the bathroom (I guess she doesn't like organised religion either).

We continued up the road to where we were told the python would be, however we had no luck spotting it, and it appeared to have moved on, so we made our way back to the start of the walk and headed down the steps to Simmos Beach.

(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.)

We walked down to the beautiful sandy freshwater beach on the George's River, and I thought it would be a lovely spot to try and take Orla for a swim. (I didn't take a photo of the main beach area as there were lots of kids playing and people sunbaking, and I didn't want to be suss).

There were no signs anywhere once we reached the beach indicating any particular directions for walks, and my Wife instantly signed and complained that the walk would be 'along sand' (she hates sand).

The way to our right (facing the river) looked like complete sand, while there was a concrete path heading left which I suggested we follow.

We lost sight of the river with the bush growing along it, until a little opening appeared a short away along and I took Orla down the little sand slope to look up and down the river.

As we continued up the path it seemed to lead back to a road where there was a car parked, and another 4WD parked up further, and we were unsure if we were going the right direction. I suggested we head back towards the beach to see if we could notice a path heading the other way.

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.

"Oh god it's still sand." My wife bemoaned.
"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.

"Yeah, it's definitely not an ergonomic chair."
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.

As we made our way along the river, we kept a watchful eye for snakes, while also enjoying the stunning views of the Georges River, beckoning me in for a swim.

We came upon a sign marker, and I made the comment that I wish they had distances for how much left was on the walk (as I like knowing how much progress I have made along the way), and there was a bit here where you could walk down to the water, and so we took Orla down to the water to see if she wanted to cool off her little feet.

However, the way the rocks went into the water must have been too intimidating for her as she wasn't at all interested in walking in.

"This would be a cool spot to bring some kayaks and paddle the river." I said, as we attempted a family photo a few times.

We resumed the trail, with the temperature continuing to increase, I commented with every breeze about how nice the wind felt.

"I really love walks by water." I told my Wife.
"I know." She sighed.
"Maybe it's because I'm a water sign." I joked, referring to my star-sign, Scorpio.

Every so often I would encounter a bump in the track, or Orla would decide to walk a little faster and pull the lead, causing me to yank forward and make short little gasps of pain.

"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 once more looked to the beautiful river on my right, the idea of being submerged and able to move and twist and stretch and crack my back all greatly appealed to me, as I admired the reflection from the trees on the opposite side, mirroring on the surface of the water.

I began talking about the history of Alexander Pearce and a group of escape convicts who cannibalised each other in Tasmania back in 1822 (as I had read about it in the history book I was reading, then watched the movie 'Van Dieman's Land' based on it the night before, while my Wife watched the NRL grand final).

As I was discussing this, the path split in two, with a sign, saying that the track continuing on ahead along the water was 'The end of the track' but also 'Future Track extension'. 

"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.

The trail wound around, further away from the river, and I found the temperature increasing the further away we got from the water (though it might have just been getting hotter as the day progressed).

Following further away from the water, I noticed a change in the colour of the greenery around me, the vibrant green grasses now turned to dry yellow, as we passed another trail maker, that looked like it had a track splitting off from it, heading left a bit further uphill. The marker however mentioned no walk up that way, with a little figure walking facing the way we were going.

"Maybe people have just walked up that way to see stuff." I suggested to my Wife as to why it really looked like a track off to our side. (However, maybe it was the trail, unless there was another trail somewhere we missed, as you will find out shortly!)

We made it to a clearing in the bush, a rocky outcrop, where we were unable to discern any particular trail, and so wandered around looking for an obvious direction of travel.

Eventually as the rocky outcrop returned to bushland, we looked for a way to go, following odd tracks here and there that we thought were the trail, but were either animal tracks, or from just randoms making their way through the bush like we were. 

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.

The road, looking the direction we should have come from

The road the direction we followed

"How did we miss a turn off to this?" My Wife asked annoyed and frustrated.

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.

As we walked along, I could hear all the bees buzzing in the wildflowers off the side of the trail. The day was now well and truly hot, and I picked up on a very particular scent. 
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.

"FUCK OFF!" My Wife yelling, flailing her arms around in the air at fly's.
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 came to another marker off the side of the road, this one featuring arrows. pointing both diagonally slightly down and right, and on facing only right.

I noticed what seemed to be a trail behind a bunch of logs which had been laid down over a track off to our left indicated that that trail was closed, which didn't affect us as we continued on down the dirt road, soon coming to another fork.

The Simmos track headed left so we followed it, continuing on to another split, where we continued straight, until we came into yet another split, this time right by the entry road we had driven in through, where we turned right heading closer to the very entrance of Simmos Reserve.

Down the end of this trail, we turned left, crossing over the road, and continuing along behind the back of people's homes on the other side of the road.

The trail eventually wound left, heading back in toward the river, coming to another fork, with us turning right rather than heading down the trail towards the river.

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.

She turned back, noticing I was still a distance behind, as I was trying to take photos of native yellow pea flowers (all which ended up blurry).

I quickly caught up, before stopping to take a photo of a Purple Flag flower in the bush.

Patersonia

The trail split once more, and we followed it left, as that was the way the marker told us to go. We followed it down, where it split once more, this time not giving us any direction of which way to go.

I suggested we headed left, as I saw an older couple coming towards us from that way and assumed that might mean it was the right trail. We headed past them where I noticed the man holding a large camera, taking photos of flowers and plants in the bush.

"Good morning." The lady said. "Although it's probably not morning anymore!"

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.

Along this trail I noticed a lot of semi large ant holes at the top of mounds, where someone had gone along, cutting the flower tops of Arum Lillies and placing them inside the holes.

I pointed them out to my Wife, who asked why, I explained that I didn't have a reason for why the person had done it, I was just pointing it out, before I went on a rant about how Arum Lillies are super invasive.

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.

After a short while we hit a concrete path that head in two separate directions.

Heading left, the direction away from the river

Heading right, towards the river

Directly across from us was a marker, letting us know that we were no longer on Simmos Track, but the 'Quarry Walk' and 'South River Trail'.

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.

We came to yet another split path, this time with a marker letting us know that we were now back on Simmos track, and so we followed this trail left, which now began heading downhill.

We progressed slowly downhill, with me warning my Wife to watch her footing, (from experience of watching her slip on loose rocks on the surface while walking down slopes). She didn't respond, and her face was bright red and she was severely overheating, so we continued the rest of the walk with not much conversation.

We came to another split it the trail, heading left and right, with a sign pointing both directions saying 'Simmos Track', I as confused and annoyed by it because I thought we had been following the track, and so heading right didn't make sense to me, while continuing left following the river along back to Simmos beach made more sense.
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.

The trail thinned again, more like your usual walking trail and less like the more open fire trails we had been on, and so I once more became watchful for snakes, while also enjoying the view from up over the river.

We rounded a little bend, and a gentle breeze was blowing, helping offer some relief from the stuffy heat. I looked out of the river and noticed the gentle ripples over the water which just seemed so peaceful.

The trail began to head up and down as we followed it along.

The trail once more split (I feel like a broke record!), with a trail heading closer down to the water to follow along, and one continuing along straight. I suggested heading down closer to the water, but my Wife suggested we just follow along straight, (I think hoping for less undulation).

Of course, as soon we continued along straight, we had another steep incline where my Wife groaned "I always make the wrong choice."

I powered up to the top, stopping next to a fallen tree while I waited for my Wife to slowly make her way up.

My Wife caught up with us, and I once more offered her some water, which she still didn't want.

As we approached a large overhang, we passed a man wandering along the trail, raising his phone in the air.
"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.

Just next to it was a set of concrete stairs leading down to 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.

As we headed down, we came to another post saying it was the Simmos track.
"So maybe the bottom trail along the river was the Simmos track?" I questioned out loud, shrugging.

We passed a few people heading this direction, and soon the track opened up on the far side of the beach. A boy sitting on a foldout chair just as we entered had his small little dog on a lead, which immediately started barking at Orla, but we just continued by as it was attached.

We continued along the sand, heading towards the stairs to lead us back up to the car when a group of women had a little yappy dog not tied up and it immediately started chasing down Orla, barking at her and running after us following her. My Wife got in-between myself, Orla and this dog to make sure nothing occurred. She then proceeded to loudly yell that it was an 'On leash' area.

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.

If you have enjoyed this post, or my blog in general, please follow it, or like my page on facebook or follow me on Instagram. 

Thanks for reading! - Steven