The Grotto and Greys Beach Reserve Walking Tracks

 This walk takes place on Dharawal and Yuin Country

25/10/25 - I had been wanting to go for a drive down to Nowra, to try out the Indigenous Café 'Blak Cede Gunyah' for months, but things kept coming up, whether or not our weekends were busy, or my Wife wasn't feeling well due to her pregnancy. But we finally settled on a date to go, and I asked the question if we could do something else, like explore "Maybe go to a lookout?" I had suggested, similar to what we had done when we had driven up to Camden to explore.
"Sure." She had responded, and while looking where about the café was situated in Nowra, I noticed a placed called 'The Grotto' which said there was a lookout there, and I was secretly hoping, a short walk.

As we went to leave that morning I noticed my Wife was wearing open toe footwear. "Is that ok?" She asked, mentioning she was feeling to sick for anything more than just a lookout and I gave a small sad nod, knowing there would be no walking that day.

We set off down to Nowra, crossing over the Shoalhaven River and heading into town for the café. We ordered a 'Wattleseed Hot Chocolate' and a 'Strawberry Gum White Hot Chocolate'.

To eat, I ordered the 'Budjerri Burrito' a pulled Kangaroo Burrito and my Wife ordered the 'Strawberry Gum Scones'. 

We agreed that we would need to come back on another day to try other items on the menu, particularly when my Wife was feeling less ill. We returned to the car, to see the lookout at the Grotto and for me to suss out walks that may be there.

As well pulled up at the location Google Maps had taken me to, I could see no lookout, only trees, with a sign welcoming us to 'The Grotto Reserve'.

I noticed a set of stairs heading down, and could see through the trees what looked like a lookout.
It wasn't far but being pregnant my Wife wasn't even feeling like walking down these stairs, I helped her slowly down them as I passed another sign that detailed the walks that were here.

"The Upper Grotto Walk (Easy) 2.5km (Approx. 1 hour)
The Lower Grotto Walk (Challenging) 2.3km (Approx. 1.5 hours)
Wilsons Walk 1.2km (Approx. .75 hour)"

We continued slowly down the stairs while a woman walking her Dog was heading up them, the Dog was friendly and desperate to say hello to us, as we both gave it a gentle pat and told it it was beautiful.

As we arrived at the open area lookout you really couldn't see much due to the trees. You could see the Shoalhaven River through them, and you could see down from the cliff-face we were standing on.

Completing no walks, we returned to the car to head home, with my mind already thinking about completing the walks, 'Would I do them all at once? Would I do them alone? Would I take Orla for a walk to do them?' All these thoughts raced through my head, as well as childhood memories of Coolendel, a campsite along the Shoalhaven River that my Father used to take us every year, if not multiple times a year growing up.
I hadn't been for years, but the nostalgia and longing was strong, and I thought about even going for a drive just for a day explore there. These memories made me long for my kid who I could take and hopefully give these fantastic memories to as well. 

We headed home, to hopefully return another day.

19//11/25 - As my 34th birthday approached, I had wanted to do an extended trip of what I had done for my 33rd birthday, (my three day trip to the Blue Mountains), but I had planned it as an 8 day trip, with some nights of free camping, so save on accommodation costs, continuing out to Lithgow, Bathurst, Orange, Eugowra and back out to Young/Grenfell/Weddin Mountains, with 8 days worth of walks and other things planned.
However with my Wife getting pregnant, I had to cancel all my plans in order to conserve my workplace leave to take when the baby was born. (Hopefully I will get to do my hiking road trip one day!)
I did however, use an RDO (Rostered Day Off) to at least be able to go for a bushwalk on my birthday. The only question was, what walk should I do? 
I should also reveal now I have at least 3 draft blogs sitting in the Steventure Posts section, did I want to do one of those?
I had a walk up Pigeon House Mountain I had started writing, which I planned to do with my friend Tristan, we even travelled down to do it, before finding out it was shut and doing Tarbourie Village to Termeil Lake instead.
Another was to Bike Ride around the whole of Lake Illawarra, but as my birthday fell on a Wednesday, and bike riding gives me severe leg cramps, I decided to save that and do it on a Friday RDO, so I had the weekend to recover.

The only other draft? And my most recent one? The Grotto in Nowra, so I made the decision to head down on my day off, also my birthday, to try this walk.
I finished a big day of clearing lantana at work, headed to my local bouldering gym for a climb, then spent the night looking forward to my birthday bushwalk on November 19th.

I awoke on my birthday, beginning the day the same as every other (doing my morning puzzles), and had a fried egg with chilli oil for breakfast. My Wife eventually remembered it was my birthday and wished me a slightly belated birthday work while I did some gardening work in the morning as she left for work.
The day was starting to warm up and I thought I had better get a move on, setting off back down to Nowra.
I had considered just getting breakfast at Blak Cede Gunyah again (the Wattleseed Eggs Benny, with Kangaroo prosciutto, the next item I wanted to try). But I felt rude going without my Wife, and she had already booked in to take me out for my birthday dinner on Saturday night at 'Bangalay Dining'.
I packed some watermelon slices, and a packet of Ginger Beer flavoured Kettle chips I had been eyeing off at 7-11 for a few weeks, applied a layer of sunscreen and set off down to Nowra. I blasted Shawn James all the way down, and eventually my GPS said I had arrived, but I found myself at a different location to last time.
This time I had been taken to the corner of Arnheim Place and Yurunga Drive.
There was a sign, saying Grotto walking track here, but it wasn't as grand as the other entrance, so I decided to keep driving along Yurunga Drive until I came to the location we had started at before.

I pulled up out the front of the houses across, the road, and set off down the walkway.
The trail either headed straight ahead, to the lookout I had visited last time, or you could go right past a little table, or follow the trail left, which was the path I randomly decided I would follow.

I walked to the edge, looking out over the Shoalhaven River, and the brilliant purple flowers of a Jacaranda trees on the other side.

The day was warming up, and it was expected to be a hot one. I could feel the heat from the dirt trail beginning to radiate upward as it does on those hot days where it's like the earth is heated to much that it gives off a completely different smell than usual.
While I tried to think about all the different sensations my body was experiencing as I walked, a little dirt track cut off to the right, off a proper path leading to a rocky cliff face. I followed it over, looking down below at a grassy field, with a dirt track passing by the trees along the river edge. I knew that must be the lower Grotto walk.

I decided it was a good moment while no one was around to take one of those vain 'hero pose' photo's that look cool until you actually think about the awkwardness of people taking them, whether they're 'influencer' people standing there for hours trying to take that one shot or even just me, alone in the bush, awkwardly standing my phone up on a timer to walk to the cliff edge to look over. But hey, at least this is how I would have looked when I was genuinely standing looking over the edge!

I headed back to the trail, and soon passed a young pretty girl walking her Dog, the only person I saw on the trail for the rest of the walk. I felt a tinge of guilt when I saw her. 'Maybe I should have brought Orla with me.' I thought. Usually on my birthday for the last few years I had taken her out for a walk, most often to the beach where she could run off lead.
I walked at a fast pace down the dusty dirt track. Often in the shade of the surrounding gumtrees, but occasionally in the hot sun. I approached a little wooden plank foot bridge with a sign to the side which read:

"This footbridge was built with the assistance of volunteers from the Grotto Reserve Bushcare Group."

I continued at pace along the top, taking occasional pictures of the trail as I went.

I crossed another wooden bridge, neither of which had anything flowing underneath them but were obviously made for the running water during times of rain.

Shortly after I reached the split in the walk, with a bunch of signs over the place pointing different ways and telling me they led to different things.
I learned I had been, from where I started, walking along a section of the 'Upper Grotto walk', I could now take the stairs down and head to the 'Lower Grotto walk', or I could continue on the direction I was already headed, which one sign said led to 'Yurunga Drive' the street I had parked on, but another further along said it led to 'Wilsons Walk', the shortest of the walks, and the one I wanted to do first.

'This is good.' I thought. 'I can do Wilsons walk, come back, head down the stairs to do the Lower Grotto walk, which will link back to the Upper Grotto walk on the other side, which I can walk through back to where I started doing a essentially a lap.'

With this in mind I followed the sign towards Wilsons Walk.

As I followed along I came upon another sign, perhaps signalling the start of Wilson's Walk (this time written with an apostrophe).

The walk began heading slightly downhill, eventually I passed over a rocky and uneven surface, but nothing I didn't think Orla couldn't have handled, making me feel once more guilty for not bringing her. Soon the trail levelled out, only to head back uphill once I reached a tree with a small sign of a bushwalker nailed to it.

The walk up here was once more rocky and uneven, but like I said, nothing too difficult or concerning.

At the top the trail flattened once more, with another bushwalker sign nailed to a tree. I followed the trail and in my head I thought that I had been walking for a long time, feeling like it had been much further than the distance provided on the walk had told me (though my perceptions of distance and time are often wrong as it felt much shorter walking back once I reached the end).

After a short flat walk out in the open sun the trail headed down again, the trail forever undulating. As it led down into a rainforest, and shade, the trail quickly headed uphill, into the full sun once more.

'Man this walk really is going for ages'. I thought, but I only thought that because of the 1.2km distance given, and I had thought '1.2km isn't very far at all!'.

Soon the track split, with no signage telling you which path to take, other than a little bushwalker man with an arrow pointing back the way I had come. I decided I would just continue straight and would suss out the track to my left on my way back, making the assumption that forward would be the correct direction this walk would take.

As I wandered along the trail bending inwards to my left, I encountered a tree tagged with a red arrow, assuring me I was 'probably' on the right track.

Just as the trail started weaving right (facing the way I was going, directions are a matter of perspective, I encountered a large Eucalypt that caught my attention. It was tall and majestic, and as I looked up at its canopy contrasting against the clear blue sky I felt in awe, placing my hand onto the bark of the tree, feeling a strange desire to touch it.

I continued around to a bit of a rocky opening on the trail, where besides taking an unnecessary selfie, my nose and senses were hit with a strange smell.

 It was a strange smell, but it didn't take my brain long to assign that smell to a product.

Vegemite. It smelt like vegemite. A distinctive yeasty smell. But not just straight vegemite, the smell of the vegemite and cheese flavoured packet of Arnott's Shapes.

I wandered away from this vegemite smelling location (which actually made me think of the time I was bike riding near Primbee/Warrawong in Summer and a bunch of bushland smelt like buttery popcorn), I looked out through the bush and in this heat, wondered whether or not I was likely to encounter any snakes.

The trail headed down once more (I feel like a broken record), after the first stretch of the trail down, the track bent around to the right, getting steeper with more uneven surface, and for the first time I didn't feel guilty about not bringing Orla, feeling like she might have struggled on this walk in the heat with her arthritis. 

The track led down into a little valley, the type of plants turning into more of the rainforest sorts, as I admired some of the overhangs I passed as I continued down, and the honeycomb rock formations within them.

The trail flattened out and I welcomed the shade, and the slight difference in temperature, which was cooler, (maybe due to the shade?) in this new section.

I passed by a little creek on my left. It wasn't flowing and the water was stagnant. My eyes followed it left, back up the hill where I called see the little waterfalls it was 'flowing from'. I do flowing in apostrophes as obviously due to the heat and the dryness, there was no water falling.

I continued along, and could see an opening up ahead. Through the trees on my right I could see piles and piles of chopped wood.

At the end the trail opened up onto a golf course, with a large yellow sign drilled into a tree warning to beware of stray golf balls and to stay off the golf course.

I crossed a small concrete bridge behind the tree, taking me left away from the gold course.

At the other side of the bridge a plaque was erected on a stone block for Nowra Veteran Golfers, Micheal Neal and Stuart Crowther "in appreciation" for their "continued care of gardens and surrounds of the Nowra Golf Course 3rd February 2004".

The concrete turned right and up towards a seat, but in the middle a strip of green astro turf that made it look like the sight was once used as a mini golf or 'putt putt' course.

A large sign was placed next to the trail where Wilson's Walk continued. It said 'Par 4 292 Index 9' with a picture that looked like a map of a putt putt course. Underneath was an add for A&D Tree Services.

'I wonder if they're who cut down all that wood.' I thought. 

In red, reading vertically on the right of the sign read 'Lyrebird Lair', and I assumed that was this next section of the walk, so tried to move quieter, keeping an eye out for Lyrebirds.

A little red walker sign pointed me left along the track, but here I noticed a little trail down between two large rocks, boulders, cliffs? I don't even know how you would describe them, because my language skills suck. But I wandered down between them for another look out over the golf course.

I didn't wander out onto the golf course, instead turning back to resume the walk, but not before admiring the vines growing down the boulder, and the large green tree growing high up on top that looked like it was from an ancient jungle.

The trail following the red bushwalker post had some fallen apart stairs that at the start, and then some either new or less decayed hillside stairs after that.

After reaching the top I was surrounded by verdant green, as I passed huge rock masses on either side of me making me feel like I was in a deep gully or valley like when I had done my Blue Mountains walks. 

As I walked through I heard a 'whoing', 'hooting' sound. I wondered if it was an owl as I stood looking and listening. I soon realised I knew what it was, a pigeon. 

I continued along, soon to be immediately awestruck by a huge fig growing atop a boulder, with the roots growing down over the face of it like vines. It felt like some ancient forest temple, like the Forest Temple in Zelda, or a temple from Indiana Jones or an overgrown jungle temple from 'The Jungle Book'.

I had to sit and silently admire it. The nerdy fanboy in me felt like I was ready to enter some sacred ancient temple, and the path continuing along only helped to add the that feeling and aesthetic for me.

However, unlike in fantasy, video games and films, I was not led to an ancient temple (I'll have to stick to doing escape rooms to enact that fantasy fulfilment), instead it led to a carpark for the golf course, with a beautiful tree in the middle.

As I wandered out into the open I noticed what looked like an old trail on my right, and wondered if it would lead me up back to the majestic fig, so I followed it into what was obviously once a manicured garden, but had been left to be half consumed by bushland becoming and odd fusion of the two, with a large maple tree and jacaranda canopy high above me. I decided this wasn't going to lead to the fig, (though I probably could have made it if I bushwhacked), instead I decided it was time to head back, and begin the decent and start the lower Grotto walk.

I began the walk back, where I wondered if the 1.2km distance was one way, or if had included return (the sign didn't say). On my way back I was able to look at everything from that different perspective, admiring parts of nature I had missed on my way in.

As I made it back to the the start of 'Lyrebird Lair', I saw a lizard racing across the golf course. I wasn't quick enough to capturing him running, instead I just watched him sitting on the course, soaking in the sun.

When I approached the little stream before the walk back up hill I saw a Lyrebird on the other side, once more I took out my camera and it vanished into the shrubs. 'I'm not having a lot of luck with animals lately' I thought to myself.

I seemed to walk back a lot faster, and then wondered if the problem was really the distance, or me taking photos of everything. I reached the split before the walk had descended down into the golf course, and followed it along through the bush as it led back to a road.

I decided this was a good time to have some food, taking out the Ginger Beer flavoured chips I had packed for a snack.

I ate my first one, and it just tasted like a nice, salty chip. The after taste however was sweet, and gingery. I wouldn't rave about them, but I found them pleasant enough. 

I made good pace making my way back, loudly munching on the chips. I ate about three quarters of the tiny packet, but I found myself very full from them. I was able to walk even quicker not eating or taking any photos and just as I reached the divide in the trails with the track leading down to the Lower Grotto I noticed a large Robber Fly resting on a nearby tree.

'Neoaratus hercules'

I could only just see the waters of the Shoalhaven River as I began down the track towards the Lower Grotto. There was a metal rail on my left and after I reached the end of it I continued walking straight.

'Where the fuck do I go?' I thought to myself. unable to see any discernible track. I turned back around, and noticed that the trail bent a sharp 30° to the left.

I followed the winding track down, watching the Shoalhaven River get closer towards me through the trees.

The winding path twisted and turned down the cliff, and at one point split once again. Heading to my right the lower grotto walk continued, but to the left led to a little gate that once more took you onto the golf course.

As I had come for a bushwalk, and not for a game of golf, I continued down the trail on my right, passing through a large cut log that had fallen across the track and getting and even clearer view of the river, and once more unnecessarily inserting a photo of myself into the blog.

The lightly declining trail eventually flattened as I watched the environment around me shift, and transform as I entered a plant corridor headed towards the meadows I had seen from the Upper Grotto walk.

I was admiring all the nature around me, especially all the native plants. I was surprised by the lack off weeds I had seen on my walk, getting back into the bush regeneration field of work my brain had begun to target them out. But I had seen no lantana, no obvious weeds. I saw all the native kidney weed (Dichondra repens), growing along the track and felt like this was a nice peace of Australian bush as I ran my hands through some ferns growing along the track.

While running my hand through and filming myself do so I noticed a large passionfruit vine. Not the usual sort of invasive passionfruit you would find growing in the bush, it was a thicker vine, like the one I grow at home (I have a Nellie Kelly passionfruit, you can see more of on my Gardening Instagram Account). After this awakening it was like breaking the seal, and suddenly I began to see all the weeds. I tried to shake my head and tune them out. I wasn't hear to do bush regeneration work, I was here to relax and enjoy nature.

My eyes suddenly caught a clash of something red ahead, down low in the grass. As I approached I noticed it was a bird carcass, half eaten. I wondered to myself if there were feral cats living in the bush, though I suppose really anything could have got to it.

The trail along opened up on my right, to an area full of ferns and a cool large boulder. I took a photo of the boulder, then of the valley again once I had walked to the other side of it, looking back the way I had came.

These open areas would close up and the tree thicket enclosed around me for a section of the walk, and then I would come out into a slightly more open section once more. At one point I stopped, as I saw yet another lyrebird digging around in the bush on my right, I tried to get some good footage of it, but it was too deep into the bush and too hard to locate while filming that all I captured of the lyrebird in over a 1 minute long video was a millisecond of it's back feathers disappearing behind a tree.

Another failed attempt. I passed through another 'fern gully', before crossing over a little wooden bridge and into an open meadow.

I walked across the open meadow, looking up at the cliffs I had followed along doing a section of the upper grotto walk.

As I slowly walked across I watched heaps of butterflies fluttering about. It gave the place a quiet, serene, peaceful feel, like something out of a fantasy. A great spot for a picnic I thought, but I didn't have time for that, as the trail must be walked.

So I continued on, sad to leave the open field, I continued through bush, back into meadow, and into the bush once more as I noticed a trail heading back up the cliff towards the upper grotto walk.

It was no way near the end of the trail yet, and I wasn't about to go and explore it as I assumed it would just lead back to the top grotto walk. Soon I encounter a post which pretty much told me it did, but there was another wooden sign nearby which pointed forward the direction I was headed on the lower grotto walk. saying it was the 'Waratah Walk' and would lead to Rock Hill Road in 2.5km.

'Maybe the walk was renamed?' I thought to myself.

I came to a large boulder, where the track seemed to go each way around it. I followed it to the right, which took me into the bush a short way, and I found myself at the base of a cliff, where people come to rock climb.

As someone who loved climbing I wandered about, looking for the hold I would use if I were to climb it myself. I couldn't see any particularly clear ways, but then I'm more of a hobbyist, and only really climb at the bouldering gym now.

'Maybe if I wasn't such an antisocial fuck I could have friends and go climbing in places like this.' I thought. Suddenly, a memory twinged in my mind. I often stay up to date with climbing films, always going to watch the Reel Rock film fest, Climbing film tour (formerly known as the Vertical Life Film Tour), and other things life the Banff Mountain film fest and Radical Reels. I didn't know if it was from one of them or just a one of Rock Climbing documentary but I had a sudden vision of footage from having watched one of them, and remembering it being filmed at the Grotto in Nowra. I wracked my brain trying to recall what it was, but it didn't come to me.

I walked back out away from the Crag, around the boulder and up some carved stone steps, while I began to hear voices, and assumed people where coming down the track but couldn't tell from which direction.

Soon I realised where the voices were coming from. Two men, on the opposite side of the river standing next to their kayaks. Their loud voices travelled across the water, in what I refer to as the 'Australian Volume' as I found over the years we don't speak with 'indoor voices' while outside, instead having obnoxious loud conversation that have no need to be spoken at such a volume.

I came upon a small dirt hill sticking out and walked up it where I had a clear view and was able to take photos of the Shoalhaven River.

'Clear blue skies, and gentle breeze not a bad day to be out on the water.' I thought to myself as I swiped a bit of sweat from my forehead, and continuing along the track.

I came to another divide in the trail, and I followed the left track down towards the water, where I saw what looked like a little island nearby. I walked down closed for a better view.

Over to my left while looking at the island seemed to be a large pile a possible flood debris. It looked thick, built up over time into a dam. I thought it might be possible to cross it and get over to the island, so I made my way through the bush, down to where the debris started.

I didn't know how sturdy the wood would be, but made my way closer towards it to test, stepping over a small native raspberry growing out from a little gap in the ground where the wood piles started.
'I should propagate that' I thought.

Rubus parvifolius

I stood on the wood on the edge, looking at the more flimsy pieces of wood closer to the island. I debated whether or not to risk it, deciding that I would try to get out on the island.

However, I got a about halfway out and thought I wouldn't want to fall in and destroy my phone, or backpack, but then I didn't want to leave them sitting on this side away from me either, randomly paranoid of theft although there was no one else out at all.
I decided to retreat, thinking how I would have definitely attempted with a second person. But thought as I was on my own I should be sensible, though I knew it would irk me.

I made my way back continuing along the trail, enjoying that sights, including a small plant growing on top of a boulder and the birds nest ferns growing along the way until I walked up a set of stairs and found myself at a bench.

Asplenium nidus

For there to be a bench dedicated to this bush care volunteer, they must have spent a lot of time caring and looking after this spot, which they adored. I decided to sit on the bench, snack on the rest of my chips and rehydrate, and take in the scenery from where I sat. I thought about this site and how much it might have meant to this person. 
I knew, working in bush regeneration how much time and effort it could be, and I'm paid to do it, not volunteering and working in my own precious time.

I looked at the base of the mighty fig in front of me. 
'Not a bad stop for a rest.' I thought, allowing myself to cool in the shade a little, breath, rehydrate, before throwing my backpack back on and resuming along the track.

Near a site, I encountered a blue and black feather, where in towards the cliff face I noticed a bit of a clearing. I wandered into it but not much was there other than powerline high above me, stretching out from the top of the cliff all the way to the other side of the Shoalhaven. 

After another short walk I noticed a little walk off to the side, and wandered down it for another explore where I found a sight made of concrete, like some old docking station, and could see the back of the island I had wanted to explore, which had a sign on it, facing away from me, making me more annoyed I hadn't gone on to it, curious as to what was on the sign.

Continuing on the track with questions about the history of the site, the undulation continued, down some stairs, across a and up some small stone steps, before continuing up some more timber sleeper steps, coming to another fork in the road. 

A little bollard sign said the track on my left was a service road only, but I decided to follow it out of curiosity.

There was a lot of fern meadows, but I didn't go on too far, because as far as I knew it wouldn't end for kilometres (I don't know). So I went back to the fork, where I noticed someone had placed a glass longneck beer bottle over a branch at this fork, perhaps designating something to someone or perhaps totally random, as I now took the right fork, through a little groove until it opened up on the opposite side of the fern meadow.

The trail would dip under the canopy of old overhanging trees, before re-emerging into the hot sun next to the field. Soon I entered the shade of the canopy for a longer stretch, passing by boulders, and over all the leaf litter covering the track. 

I came upon a section filled with lilies scattered all about the ground underneath the casuarina trees on what looked like a little separate trail off on my left so I decided to wander into this weird section of bushland, that almost looked like a horticultural garden.

I wandered in, observing the area. I wondered if this area had naturally formed, as the arum lily always seems to find itself invading waterways. But why was there a path around this area? Maybe it was frequented by people doing bush care? Maybe there was a secret spot in the bush people where growing marijuana? As I have encountered before. I suddenly became weary about snakes as I continued in and ground growth got thicker, so I returned to the main track, pressing on, once more under occasional canopy or next to fields of ferns.

At one point I noticed a clearing closer to the cliff face, and made my way through for a better look, stumbling upon yet another climbing site.

'I for sure have seen this in something!' I thought to myself as I wandered along looking up, at the climbs. I tried to look it up online, desperate to connect those dots in my head of what felt like detached memories, frustrating my mind. But I could not connect the dots.

With a frustrated headache from trying to recollect where I had seen this spot (and a melancholy for not having climbing friends to attempt it with), I resumed along the track, still half in my head as I walked along. 
My attention was brought back to reality by a loud crashing sound in from the ferns on my left, and I gazed into it, trying to spy the source of the noise.

I caught a fleeting glimpse of a Kangaroo disappear into the sea of green, before I decided to try and get a closer look, so I headed down, finding clear patches between the ferns to walk through, hoping I might capture a photo of the creature.

I walked about 10 metres out into the ferns, 'gosh this is risky' I thought, worried I could encounter snakes. Then I heard the crash again, looking left into the bush I saw it's long tail disappear behind a tree, and I followed after it.

I followed it out into the middle, but lost sight of it. The noises ceased, and I was alone chasing after nothing in the middle of a field in the middle of the bush. I had to make my way back to the path but I didn't fancy going through the thick ferns so instead, tried to return the way I had come, finding clear gaps so I could keep an eye of and not accidentally step on any snakes.

I didn't quite end up taking the same path, but ended up walking a little bit further along, before finding a new path in and once again meeting up with my old friend: the 'actual' track.

I continued along, fully feeling the heat now. I helped myself to a drink of water, and had really stopped paying attention to my surroundings as I simply focused on walking on the trail in front of me.
This proved dangerous, as I went to step down and realised I was about to step on a black snake!
I jumped being yelling 'Oh shit!' just narrowly avoiding stepping on it as it slithered off into the bush and I loaded up my phones video and actually managed to find it slightly uphill from me, eager to avoid me.

Content that I had finally managed to get footage of an animal encounter, as I had tried and failed with Lyrebirds and Kangaroos, I pressed on, but now having had an encounter with the red belly black snake, and that jolt of adrenaline I was on edge, and jumpy. 
Every vine, every branch, every tree root shocked my brain into thinking there was danger. I was on constant alert, and though I was able to appreciate the beauty of the scenery, I could tell the difference in my mental state, as I was no longer relaxed.

Along the path I noticed another, little subtle turn off the track, behind a boulder, so I went for an explore, expecting to find yet another climbing spot. 

As I wandered around the boulder, up along the cliff face, I could see no climbing bolts, but did notice a little hole up in the cliff side and wondered if people would boulder up into it, putting crash pads down below them.

I was tempted to put my backpack down, and climb up into it with no safety gear, the recklessness of my youth still apparently existing within me. But my head filled with images of falling and getting injured and sanity prevailed, heading back to the track to continue along, one eye on the track looking for snakes, the other a chance animal sighting out in the field.

My heart jolted once more, but settled down, as I wandered up along the path so a piece of animal carcass. The foot of either a baby kangaroo or a wallaby.

'What could kill it?' I wondered to myself. 'A fox maybe?' Had it died or other causes and been simple meat to scavenge? I'd probably never know.
'The only kangaroo I got to see was a dead one.' I mused.

I had been thinking that the walk was talking an awful long time, when all of a sudden the walk up to the Upper Grotto appeared in front of me.

I powered up the stairs, trying not to stop, but on occasion I needed to stop and catch my breath, as I wondered what a huge pipe raised up off the ground, and travelling through the bush was for.

After doing my best to power up the hill while stopping as little as possible, I soon reached the top of the stairs, where someone had placed an advertisement for the Grotto Bushcare group, that I felt it would only be right to also share.

The path ahead of me looked like it could continue on straight alongside a bunch of houses, but a little red bushwalking sign guide directed me to turn right, down another track that led me out onto Murrell Place.

At the time I had no idea, where I was, assuming I was still on Yurunga Drive, where I had parked. I soon came across my first street sign, pointing left onto Kelly Place, also attached to this sign post was a 'welcome to the grotto walking track' sign, so I assumed there was a track in here that I should follow.
I walked into the bush, hoping to find a trail, but there was nothing.
I exited back out onto the road, confused, and continuing along the hot tar road, in the full heat of the sun beating down on me, but also raising up off the hot road.

Eventually the road intersected with Yaurunga Drive and I turned right onto it. Along the start of this road I encountered a lookout over the Shoalhaven, and a Kookaburra sitting up on top of a street light.

The walk seemed to go forever, and I had to stop to reapply sunscreen with no shade. Eventually the road seemed to come to an end which had me confused. There seemed to be a trail leading off on my right but also a little gated section that was blocked for cars that I might have been able to walk through.

I took the trail in on the right, wanting to get off the suburban road and back into the bush.

It led to a beautiful lookout, with views of the river, but the fencing all around the lookout was covered with kids toys, with a big RIP written on there, insinuating the death of a child.

It filled me with sadness. Death in general is sad, but the death of a child more so. Maybe it effected me more as a new soon to be Father.
I wandered what had occurred, but figured it wasn't really my business, and tried to continue along the walk, but my head was filled with finality. I thought about when I had my cancer diagnosis, and negative thoughts about my own health filled my mind. 

I tried to shake off the negative thoughts as I continued along.

Soon enough, these thoughts were brought back, as I encountered a bridge over a small stream, with flowers left at it, and a toy bear with a love heart that read 'Baby Girl'.

My own curiosity got the better of me, and I did a quick google search, finding an ABC News article that filled me in on the tragic events, that you can read here if you so wish: https://www.abc.net.au/news/2025-03-17/body-missing-6yo-girl-found-nsw-south-coast-nowra-bushland/105059652

I thought about death, and the idea that we are eventually all forgotten. Gone, like we never existed. Some people don't mind being forgotten to history, but I thought that why are some more important than others? Who selects which people get to be remembered while others are only to be remembered by those around them, and to eventually fade from memory. Life is cruel, I thought, thinking of untold ancient histories long forgotten. People with loved ones, and stories, and lives. Why weren't they important to remember? Another reason I love the idea of family trees and genealogy. Remembering the stories of ordinary people.

I looked up and found I was entering onto another road.

I noticed a trail in the bush if I followed the dirt, and so I headed that direction, down a path until I came at what I can only assuming is one of the climbing locations I had encountered on the Lower Grotto walk.

Probably not great advice

I followed the dirt track back to the road, which was apparently still Yurunga Drive. I passed the turn off onto Arnheim Place, where the GPS had originally taken me in the morning. Just here there was a walk way into the bush, and had a trail going along, finally I was off of the road.

I wandered along, getting occasional views over the river, at one point stopping to film a boat zip up the river, and noticing the two men who were fishing with their kayaks were both still there.

I continued along the fence line, and I realised my background stress about snakes had been long forgotten. I passed a track down to the Lower Grotto and wondered if that was the way I had seen and not followed when I had passed along the bottom. I was too tired to follow it down and back to verify, but it made sense. Not long after I was heading up hill slightly, where I could see the bench that was by the start of the walk, and I was coming up the trail at the very beginning which headed right.

I headed up to the car, now late in the afternoon, and realised my phone was on 23%, almost flat! 'That's what I get for taking so many photo's' I thought to myself, putting it on charge and cranking the aircon in the car, I set my music up, and then headed back towards Bomaderry to stop in at KFC and try the limited 'Zinger Banh Mi'.

It was nice, if you like KFC. Like a slightly more interesting Zinger, which a taste of chinese five spice. Not a banh mi, and not as nice as one either (plus more expensive). But I was happy I tried it.
I headed home for a shower, to go out to a casual diner with my Wife, Mum and older brother.

I finished my week at work in Bush Regen, and we headed down to Bangalay Dining for my 'birthday meal' on the Saturday night. As we arrived and my Wife headed to the toilet, I looked at the menu only to realise the things we had wanted to get, the interesting things where not on this printed menu.
There was a tinge of disappointment, as the menu was not cheap, and there wasn't too much that interested us in eating it.

We got two mocktails, a saltbush margarita and a davidson plum sour. Both were excellent. We ended up just getting a focaccia with black butter, which was almost a small loaf of bread (though I wouldn't call it a focaccia), it was tasty and bigger than we thought and the black garlic butter was good too. Next we both got the 'south coast yellowfin tuna', as it came with the geraldton wax and pine vinegar we had wanted to try on another dish we had planned to order. We were only told as ordering it though that it was actually 'sashimi'. 
We weren't going to look through the menu again, and agreed to get it.

It was ok. A much bigger portion than we expected as well, but it was pretty one note in flavour, and had a very drying sensation on the mouth, and with so much sashimi we got a bit sick of eating it after a few pieces, but made ourselves finish it.

For dessert we got the sour cherry ice-cream with quandong syrup. However, it was actually more like a white chocolate magnum, with sour cherry powder and the syrup and came out on a paddle pop stick. It was sickly sweet, and not what I was expecting. Again it tasted generic and not worth the cost, so it was a bit disappointing. We however, both left full enough and the sun was still out as we returned to the car from the restaurant in the little drizzle of rain.

"Ah well, you don't know unless you go." I told my Wife, trying to be not too disheartened by it. "We can just go to Blak Cede in Nowra, at least we know that's good. And it was nice to come down this way just for the drive." I said.

The following day I had another big drive, this time down to Milton. I took my Mum and Nan (my Mum's mum), as we were going down to see my Uncle Colin, who my Mum had told me was dying of kidney disease from being an alcoholic. "I will come too!" I had told her when she said her and my Nan were going to see him. I hadn't seen Uncle Colin in years (I write and call him Uncle Colin, but he's my Nan's half-brother).

Uncle Colin had once stayed and looked after us in my younger years of High School. He had let us drink beer and I remember thinking Uncle Colin was great. We even had a pet Gallah we named Colin in honour of him.

Colin the Gallah and my old Dog, Bella

Uncle Colin also would write beautiful poetry, and I was always in awe of the way he could write, wishing I could ever be anywhere near that brilliant. It reminded me of old school poetry, the sort they force you to learn in English class at school and you usually hate at the time out of principle. 

As we arrived at the Seachange Parks in Milton, I saw the old worn down hovel that Uncle Colin was living in. The dingy heap was filled with mould, leaks (where I sat inside dripped into a styrofoam container the entire time), and the place stunk of stale beer. It was really sad.

He was already drinking a beer as we arrived, with an egg on a old gas camping cooktop cooking for his breakfast. I wasn't even sure he remembered who I was when I arrived and we greeted him. We all made our way inside. Twice, I got up to help him with something as he was struggling to walk, both times I was asked to grab a fresh beer from the freezer.
"Go on grab it for him." My Mum, said.
I felt bad enabling him, but he had already chosen that this was the way he wanted to go out.

He was an avid story teller my Uncle Colin, and the entire time he told stories from the past, back when he was young and hung around with my Mum's Dad 'Tiny', they called him as a nickname. I always called him 'Cloclo Pop'.
All the stories where the same. Gambling, poker machines, betting on the horses or the 'dogs' aka greyhound racing which personally I'm ethically against due to the past history of that industry and my love of Dogs.
The stories would end the same, either they'd lose out, or win and use the money to buy more booze.
It went on for hours, stories about finishing a days work, getting some money, putting on a bet, drinking 'Toohey's Old'.
'Jesus' I thought to myself. It was not the life I would want to live.

He told stories of my Pop: 'Tiny' hiding in the boot of a car so he could enter into 'Dapto Dogs' for free. Even stories of jumping fences, hitting up other people for a loan of cash for booze or gambling.

'These are my relations'. I thought to myself in disbelief, literally every story involved drinking or gambling.

I was exhausted by the end, as we said goodbye to Uncle Colin. Getting photo's with him and I wondered if it would be my last time ever seeing him...

Mum, Colin, Nan

Me and Uncle Colin

As we drove away my Nan said what we were all thinking. "What a shit hole."

It made me feel bad. What a place to end up, in the twilight of life. What a way to go out. I guess he looked back on his memories with glee. Maybe he lived his life on his own terms. I'll never know. It wasn't the way I would choose to live. I need travel, adventure, nature, family. But that's what brings me joy, brings me peace, brings me fulfilment. Maybe that was the life he led? I didn't know. But as I drove the long way home I thought about the reckless lives these men had lived back in their youth.
I was now 34, days of young stupidity long gone, the drinking and partying of youth, all things we want to experience I suppose. But I wondered what my own legacy would be. What I would leave behind, where I would end up, and how I would be remembered if at all.

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Thanks for reading! - Steven