Trekking Australia

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Comment by Random Walker on March 22, 2009 at 9:26pm

It was the day we left Cowombat Flats, from where I straddled the mighty Murray River, one foot in New South Wales the other in Victoria. Hiking off track for a couple hours I broke out into a clearing where immediately I was surrounded by horses moving so fast that it was only later that I remembered to breathe. In the dusty silence they left behind I look up into the bush and see John, his eye's wide and grinning from ear to ear. "What the hell" I ask. "Brumbies" he says joining me in the clearing. We followed their tracks a ways that day but never saw them again.

Comment by Joshua Cocks on March 22, 2009 at 7:33pm

'The following day, having found a steep but negotiable route up, we traversed almost the entire ten kilometres of those mighty cliffs. They were long, of white sandstone and had an occasional contrasting intrusion or layer of red. I was reminded of the coastal cliffs of the Royal National Park, south of Sydney, but where we were the cliffs bounded a vast ‘sea’ of dry eucalypt forest. It was ‘unimproved’ country used for raising cattle but as far as we could see there was no sign of man’s encroachment. It was virtually untouched. The only blemish had been Barry’s find of “G.R. ‘45” carved into a rock near our previous camp-site. Not many people had seen nor would see that amazing place. I thought of places such as Kanangra, west of Sydney, which are equally beautiful but, compared with where we were, have been walked to death. I’d not realised that such a difference could exist, until I saw those northern cliffs. I was stunned and humbled.'

The Never Ending Bushwalk, Steve and Ruth Tremont (1997)

Comment by Joshua Cocks on March 22, 2009 at 7:33pm

'Amongst the fun and despite our sore feet the serenity and peacefulness of our surroundings soon had us captured. The evenings were filled with a spaciousness which merged with my mind, allowing me to rise above the sensation of mere physical pain. The setting sun shone golden across rounded whaleback slopes which in turn extended long shadows blending into night. Then, while the sky held its last rosy glow, dozens of bats flew, silently wheeling into our camp site. I was experiencing the very reason for my presence there. The fulfilling reward of being able to realise, acknowledge and accept the beauty of my bush surroundings as they entwined with my own existence. It is such a shame that modern living is so tied up with sophisticated lifestyles and that we're often unwittingly forced to overlook the natural wonders that constantly surround us. Such wonders embody the reality of my heart's desires, and often enshroud me with feelings of inner peace.'

The Never Ending Bushwalk, Steve and Ruth Tremont (1997)