You’ll hear the story about that a little later, but lets start with some high anxiety first. I arrived in Coona with way less than a quarter tank of diesel, which normally would not be a problem. First the Caltex and then the Shell. BOTH had run out of diesel less than half an hour earlier, the only two servos in town!! I was trapped, or so it seemed. Now, I had worked in Coona many years ago, but had forgotten about the bulk supply depot down a side street nearby. Luckily the pump jockey at Shell suggested I check it out. The directions were vague but then I remembered it. Thankfully he had the juice. Word spreads quick in a town full of diesel utes and grey nomads. By the time I had filled up, there was a conga line of of vans and vagabonds lining up back into the street. Phew! That was close and lesson learnt. After stocking up with eats, headed 34 km west and arrived at Camp Wambelong without further drama.
Now, as impressive as this looks, the wow factor can be found in a network of trails that lead into and up to the top of this ring of ancient volcanic monoliths. I had made a promise to show ‘someone’ a sunrise, (she’s not an early riser) and the weather forecast meant it was the next day or maybe not at all. The Grand High Tops Circuit was the objective and to catch the sunrise meant a 3:30 am wake up call and a 4:15 am start. It was a 7 km climb and another 8 km across the top and back down. Early progress was good. Had packed a rucksack with the kitchen sink and it wasn’t slowing me down. I knew about the 200 steps near the summit, but climbing them over uneven terrain, in the dark, was a real challenge. The torch light would only show rough hewn steps disappearing into the inky blackness, no clue to a temporary respite. Progress became slow and stops frequent. My heart was pounding. It was a race against the clock. What romantic fools will do. Finally, after two hours of climbing, the trail leveled out. My relief was palpabIe. I had arrived at my vantage point with the very first light and 30 minutes to spare before sunrise.
I had to take shelter in the rocks to keep out of the bitter wind as long as possible but warmed by having achieved my primary goal. I was alone at sunrise on a mountain top. The best part of the day was before me and the next four hours would be among the most exhilarating since Tamika and I did our Andes expedition four years earlier.
The hardest part was over, but the Grand High Tops Circuit is still a challenge in places, especially if you choose NOT to take the Dagda short cut, but instead go the extra mile….literally, and do the whole thing.
So glad I made the extra effort. The best views were at the very top. Armed with a staff, I felt like Gandolph as I looked over the vast landscape and distant horizon. I’ll let the pictures do the talking.
On the way down, I encountered several groups on the way up. People who had arrived to do this trek at a much more sensible hour. As I approached them I would call out’ “Do you want the truth or do you want me to lie.” To a man (and woman), they all said, “Lie!”. So, I told them about the cafe with the best coffee and French pastries, “just a little further on” oh, and the recently installed chairlift that would make the climb sooo easy. They laughed like only hard core adventurers and masochists can.
Back in the valley, it was still a long walk to the car park. But the jagged cliffs and towering dykes were now hidden by forest and the sound of gurgling streams.
Triumph and exhaustion in the car park. Mission accomplished.