Six Foot Track Day 4: Black Range Road, Jenolan Caves, back to Katoomba.

DAY 4! The end was near! A final 8 kilometres that separated us and CIVILISATION: toilets, coffee, cider, junk food and all the vices of our daily lives. 

We were so motivated to get home that we managed to set off around 8 in the morning, leaving a campsite full of other hikers still having their breakfast behind. And for the fourth day in a row, the weather was cool and sunny. Not a single cloud to be seen in the sky.

There was a mild uphill walk just after we left the campsite, but by this stage, this felt like a walk in the park for us.

We powered on, thinking about coffee, pub lunches and pear cider in that order. BURP.

And soon enough, we found ourselves passing the 5kms to go sign just before the Jenolan Caves Cottages. 

From thereon, it was a steep descent down to the Jenolan Caves House, the end of the Six Foot Track. When I wasn’t worried about tumbling over the end of the track into the steep valley below and remembered to look up, the views were stunning. 

Once we made it to the bottom of the hill, we veered left and soon found ourselves walking past the spectacular Carlotta’s Arc and the Blue Lake, named after the daughter of General Adams, the man who first surveyed this area.  

Suddenly, there were tourists everywhere, escaping to the mountains for the ANZAC Day long weekend.

People! People holding coffees! People holding coffees and eating deep fried food! 

The finishing line was oh-so tantalisingly close. 

Et voila! The El Dorado of our hike, Jenolan Caves House - a Germanic looking, historical hotel tucked away in the rocky hills, surrounded by caves full of stalactites and mites. 

We all crashed onto the nearest chair when we finally made it past the finishing point. There was a mad rush of activity within the group, as we all dashed off to purchase coffees like caffeine-deprived fiends, and book ourselves a tour of the caves. It was another half hour before we all realised none of us took an “after” shot of our trek. So it was back on with our packs as we all headed to the end point of the track to document our success: 

45KMs, 4 days in wilderness, WE DID IT! 

A quick lunch later, we headed off on our tour of the Chifley Cave, one of the larger caves in Jenolan as the park ranger explained to us the formation of the caves and the amazing power of dripping water. 

A rock known as Madonna and Child, apparently.

A rock named Bacon. 

At the end of the tour, we drove back to Katoomba to pick up the other car, and then to Leura nearby for a greasy but satisfying second lunch. With that, it was time to head back to Canberra. 

But we couldn’t go without a quick stop at Echo Point look out to say hi to the Three Sisters - an iconic rock formation in the Blue Mountains. 

By that time, it was late afternoon, a distant fog was rolling in. The autumn air was still warm, and everywhere we looked, happy tourists were posing for snaps.

And as beautiful as it was, we simply didn’t fit in. We stank and itched everywhere, haven’t taken off our hiking boots for 4 days, or pooped into a proper toilet bowl. 

So without a glance backwards, we headed off to Canberra, our adoptive home, eager for that amazing first shower back from the wilderness. 

Six Foot Track Day 3: Black Range Camp Ground

Day 3 was meant to be the Slog Day. 15 kilometres of uphill struggle as we climb higher and higher through the Black Range. 

But as it turned out, none of us knew how to read a topological map. We had managed to do the steepest, hardest part of the trek on Tuesday when we decided to push on past our designated  campsite and get some extra miles under our feet. What was left of Day 3 was simply to finish the climb to the top of the Black Range, and from there on, it was a pleasant walk in the woods and then a slight descent to the Black Range campground. The track was flat and wide, the walk was cool and shady, we came across numerous other hikers and bikers taking their ANZAC Day long weekend in the mountains. 

And the best part? We managed to arrive at our campground at just past 11:30AM.

Say WHUT? Another 5 hours of daylight and sun? Not having to cook in near darkness? Or carry 15kg packs up a hill in the sweltering midday sun? 

OH THE LUXURY.

Needless to say, we spent the rest of the day at our campground, doing yoga in the sun on our sleeping mats, reading, listening to music, and just generally chilling. Not having to walk til dusk felt like the most amazing prize for blood sweat and tears on the day before. 

xx doots

View from top of the Black Range. 

Mountain biker we came across.

Random pine plantation we walked past.

Our campsite. 

My trusty little hiking boots. 4 days. 45 kilometres. NO BLISTERS. 

Six Foot Track Day 2: Alum Creek, Black Range

I don’t have a lot of pictures from Day 2 and there was a good reason for that: it was easily our hardest day on the hike. The good news is that most of the track along here was dirt track, which made for a pleasant change after the rocky steps on our first day. The bad news? 20 kilometres of steep uphill terrain from here on. 

WHAT IS MY LIFE? I asked the skies. Why exactly am I putting myself through this just to walk from Point A to B? 

25kms left

20 kms to go

We had planned to camp at Alum Creek for the day. But after pushing ourselves all morning, we managed to get to Alum Creek in time for lunch (mountain bread, laughing cow cheese, canned tuna … never again). With the whole afternoon ahead of us and still a lot of uphill terrain to cover on Day 3, we decided to engage in an act of pure masochism and keep moving. 

And so we walked on, this time with no established camp site in mind, and having to wade across Little River a few times as the path crossed and deviated from the creek. After the creek, we climbed steeply up the hill to the Black Range, and eventually made it to what appeared to be a middle saddle with a rocky clearing. The landscape was barren, rocky, and full of blackened trees trunks due to bush fires and burnings in the area.  To add to the eeriness, when the night descended, there was a full moon. Owls hooted. Wild animals screeched outside our tent. Was it close? Was it faraday? We couldn’t tell. 

The winds started after that and the tent caved in on us, its poles bend from the sheer force of the gusts. It was a wildly long night, and after what seemed like an eternity, someone looked at their watch and cried: “IT’S ONLY 1:30AM”. 

We all groaned. Unable to sleep. Unable to do anything else in the eerie darkness, except to lie there with half the tent caving in on our faces, listening to the sounds of an unwelcoming nocturnal world. 

xx doots

Six Foot Track Day 1: Nellies Glen, Megalong Valley, Cox's River.

Having just done a four day practice hike through Namadgi National Park, we headed off - all “experienced” and still aching - to Katoomba to start the Real Thing: the Six Foot Track.

The Six Foot Track, which runs for 45kms from Katoomba to the Jenolan Caves, was originally built as a horse trail in the 1880s to allow better tourist access to the caves. 

These days, it’s the route of a famous marathon here in Oz, a popular bushwalking trail through the Blue Mountains, and a common training ground for the crazies preparing to hike the Kokoda Trail.

Although typically done over three days, the Duke of Ed program requires us to go on a four day adventurous journey, so we averaged out the hike over four days and three nights, leaving ourselves some time on the last day to explore the caves. 

And so we were off, bright and early on an Aussie autumn day. The photo below was taken at the start of the track by an elderly couple, who became our trail buddies for the rest of the trip. They were both from the Blue Mountains area and told us some stories about the history of the trail. 

From the start of the trail, we immediately descended steeply down the cliffs of Nellies Glen. Straightaway it became difficult, as we thudded down the steep, slippery stairs, trying not to lose our balance or roll an ankle, which I eventually did anyway. By the time we emerged out of the lower sections of Nellies Glen, my knees felt like jelly and my right ankle throbbed ominously. We took a quick break to tape up my ankles and eat some trail mix before setting off again - thankfully this time along a more level part of the trail towards Megalong Village. 

Along the way, we stopped to admire a flock of six yellow-tailed black cockatoos who were silently gliding around among the gum trees, watching us from above without a hint of alarm. They were simply magnificent. 

And as we trekked through the settled parts of Megalong, we came across farms where horses and kangaroos lived side-by-side, one domesticated and the other wild. 

Two puppies from a nearby farm also came out to welcome us, and trotted after us for a while until we hiked further and further from the vicinity of their home. 

And soon, it felt like we were hiking further from the vicinity of anywhere. The trees grew sparse, signs of humanity faded into the margins of our vision. It was nearing noon, and there was no shade to be found. 

I was beginning to wilt a little in the sun, annoyed by the sudden lack of cool shade when I just happened to look back and see where we had come from: 

The views were simply incredible. Mountain cliffs behind us, grass lands and rolling hills ahead. Somewhere along the way, we walked past a fox, curled up sleeping in the grass. It eyed us lazily, and like all the other animals we came across on the hike, it didn’t seem to feel remotely threatened by our existence. We were in its home after all.

Soon after we left the grassy hills of Megalong, the scenery changed again. This time we were walking along a relatively narrow track on the side of the mountain, until we came to the highlight of our day: the Bowtells Swing Bridge - one of the longest suspension bridges I’ve ever seen. It allowed only one person on at a time and swung ominously over the rocky Cox’s River. It took us a good half an hour to cross the bridge individual, as we shouted words of encouragement at each other and laughed when the bridge shook as each person reached the middle section. 

Soon after the bridge, we reached our camp site for the day. The elderly couple who had started out with us had put us to shame by reaching the campsite way before us. They chose to wade across the river rather than go on the suspension bridge. Together we sat in the afternoon sun and talked about our work, our lives and the previous hikes that we’ve done. 

They told us how happy they were to see young people like ourselves out there in the bush, challenging ourselves. I gave a mental hair flick, even as I swore to myself I’d never do this again. 

By 5:30PM, it was almost too dark to do anything. And so we crawled into our tents for our longest, coldest night in the bush yet. 

xx doots