Recently I said that I might write more about 2015. Still thinking of doing so, but here’s a ramble about when in 2016 I first attempted to reach Mount Dingo. I thought I wrote about this but I’m having trouble finding a record of doing so. I shared a few photos from the hike but a record of writing about it seemingly doesn’t exist.
Back in the far off year of 2016 I decided I’d head on out to Mount Dingo. I think I’d discussed doing it with Ewe around that time. I can’t quite remember, but if I did he wasn’t down for it yet. That would have to wait until the following year, of which I wrote about using far too many words, but I digress.
I went to Katoomba on a Friday night after work, I think. I can’t remember what I would’ve done on the train trip, though I’m fairly certain I wasn’t reading too much at the time. I’d been reading Rogue “by” Fabio and by Eugenia Riley earlier that year and it put me off a bit, though maybe I was reading Leviathan on Trial at the time I went on the hike, but I can’t remember. On one hand I have a vague feeling I didn’t bring a book, but the more I think about this trip the more I have an idea of wanting to read whilst in the tent so I probably took Leviathan on Trial with me.
Anyway, I got to Katoomba, went to The YHA where I’d booked a bed, dropped my stuff, then went to a nearby pub to get some food. I sat there and ate for a bit, talked to someone who also was up visiting and I can’t remember the details of the conversation, partly due to how loud it was at the pub and partly due to the audible stuff being right at the end when we left and were walking for a few minutes before going our separate ways, and I’m fairly certain it was just general life stuff that helped keep the cold at the back of our minds.
I got back to The YHA, went to sleep, woke up the following morning, got my stuff and headed off to a café. I may have went to the police station to grab an EPIRB either the night prior or in the morning. I’m fairly certain it was in the morning, but regardless I had one and that morning I went to eat. After that I’m fairly certain I spent time waiting for a bus to take me to a place near where I was going to walk, bus didn’t come as it was too early or I may have just missed one and so I ended up walking down to where I was going.
Either that or I caught the bus and went to The Three Sisters by mistake, though it’s possible I got off at a stop before reaching them and commenced walking. Essentially there was more walking than necessary due to my own error in judgement.
At some point I walked past Scenic World and still had a bit to go, and it was close to midday. I checked out some of the lookout points on the way and eventually I reached the start of Narrow Neck. Narrow Neck is a great place to walk but, when doable, it’s better to drive part of it if you’ve a good deal of stuff to carry… or at least get someone to drive you part of the way. It doesn’t cut much off the journey, but it gets you past an incline that is very much not fun to walk with a lot of weight on your back. I walked that incline and I’ll be happy if I don’t walk it whilst carrying a lot of stuff again.
By the time I got to the gate for the fire trail along Narrow Neck it was close to one in the afternoon so, in part due to the time and in part due to the cold I tried to keep a brisk pace. In places the trail was pleasantly sun-dappled but there was a cold throughout, and a sense of quiet. I’m fairly sure I saw a person here or there on the odd occasion, but otherwise it was just cold, quiet space. The wind, when apparent couldn’t cut into the silence.
At the time I began to feel a sense of loneliness. It was a beautiful day, but despite the cycling of grand openness and focused, directed space being something to truly appreciate, I still longed for companionship and that longing was worsened by having someone I knew regularly contacting me in a way that was getting uncomfortable. Eventually I had to tell that person to stop contacting me, which was shortly after they started appearing in my suburb and messaging me about being there. That was a good few months after this walk though.
At the time of the walk they’d reached out to me again and it affected my mood. I hurt and I kept on walking, but eventually the sense of loneliness significantly lessened. It would’ve been nice to get to Mount Dingo and see the sunset with someone and it would’ve been nice to not have someone leaving me feeling uncomfortable, but I was out there on my own and I’d chosen to do the walk by myself and that too was nice. It was nice to see views I’d seen before but from differing angles, and it was nice to have the sense of silence. It wasn’t freeing, but it was peaceful and quiet and lively, and it was also relieving to be there.
I eventually reached a toilet which I used. It was next to a fire tower. I think I may have found it odd at first but pretty quickly realised that having a toilet next to a fire tower made sense. I then continued on my trek and eventually reached the end of Narrow Neck.
I had a brief break, in part to work out where to go from there as the path wasn’t clear to me. I saw the greater openness visible from that point, and in parts it just seemed to go on. It was nice, but it wasn’t something I could take my time with as sunset would soon begin. I was pretty sure there was still a bit to go but I remained optimistic about reaching my goal.
As a side note I’ve been writing this over a few months. Just bits and pieces here and there, then putting off writing a bit more. I don’t think it has helped in the slightest.
I found the way forward and started making my way to Tarros Ladder. Tarros Ladder is a series of rungs and stakes driven into a cliff face. It’s roughly eight metres and it’s not exactly the easiest thing to do if you’ve a fear of heights. When I got there I checked out the descent to which my fear said a rough equivalent of “No”. I then figured I’d head back, but I couldn’t get up onto the ledge from which I came down. It wasn’t high but its space was narrow which was what made it difficult for me.
I started to think about the possibility of getting stuck there. I couldn’t go down and I couldn’t go up and sunset had begun. I felt overwhelmed as being stuck there was dangerous. I considered triggering the EPIRB. I’m fairly certain it was a few months after the walk, but at some point I’d found out there was a bypass to Tarros Ladder, but I didn’t see it then and I didn’t see it when Ewe and I made our attempt.
It was probably ten minutes (quite possibly more) of being stuck there and gradually despairing before I decided to get myself out of the situation by trying to go back up to the end of Narrow Neck. Getting back onto the ledge I came down from wasn’t easy but after a bit of struggling I succeede. I made my way up from there and I saw a little bird, to which I said “Pretty Bird”. I repeated it a few times as it was all I could say. I’m fairly certain I had a panic attack that started at the top of Tarros Ladder, but at the time I wasn’t thinking about that. My concern was just to get back to the end of Narrow Neck.
It was mostly dark and windy when I got there so I started worked quickly to set up my tent. There was difficult in keeping the pegs in the ground but eventually with my bike light, some perseverance and I think a few rocks I was able to get them into a spot where they would stay. I then went into the tent and rested.
Being able to rest was great and it helped me relax a fair bit, but it wasn’t long before I started growing concerned about the possibility of running into one of the fabled wild people in The Blue Mountains. Sometimes they’re referred to as yowies (which, to my understanding is a creature of Indigenous folklore) and sometimes they’re referred to as a bunch of people who live in the bush. As far as I’m aware they’re not real but on that night that was something my mind was pushing to the side for a while.
I eventually saw a bright light from outside the tent and I became quite worried that I was going to be abducted and this was it, but it was still better to stay in my tent. At the same time I had to urinate which meant leaving the tent. I wasn’t sure what to do. I didn’t want to see myself disappearing in this manner. I didn’t feel ready to have to deal with the terror of the unknown.
Anyway I left the tent and did my business and saw that the bright light was just the moon. Once done I diluted where I peed with water just in case it attracted anything, then got back into the tent and fell asleep not long after.
All things considered I woke up after a good amount of sleep. I saw the sunrise, took a few photos, had breakfast, packed up and left. On the way back I stopped off at the toilet and prevented someone else from using it just by my being there. I’m pretty sure I’ve also written about this happening but doing so is also something I’m having trouble finding. The thing is how often to you end up blocking toilet use in the middle of “nowhere” at an early hour of the morning?
Once done I continued on my way. The person who went to use the toilet wasn’t around. As I walked along I saw icicles hanging from a rock and I thought that was interesting.
The walk was long, or at least it felt long and I was growing sore. The weight of my pack felt heavier and so I stopped regularly for brief rests. The views were the same, but they also were different and the air was crisp and cold. I was slower, or at least it felt like I was slower, but I continued on and I remained as steady in my pace as I could.
When I reached the parking area at the entrance to the fire trail portion of Narrow Neck I saw someone there and I asked them for a lift. They were happy to oblige and once their partner arrived we were on our way.
They were keen walkers and did (I imagine they still do, but who knows what happens in seven years) their walks over many hours and lengthy distances. They had walked something like fifty kilometres through The Megalong Valley the previous day. I might’ve misheard it, but it seemed believable to me.
When I told them about what happened to me and where I camped they expressed surprise as the temperate had gotten to -3°C overnight. I hadn’t realised due to how well I slept (the sleeping bag I had was quite warm) and it helped explain the icicles. I’d thought about it being cold enough for them to be there when I saw them but it wasn’t something I thought much about. I’m pretty sure I was more interested in their appearance when they weren’t there the day prior than I was why they were there.
I can’t quite remember where the couple dropped me off. I’m pretty sure it was near the police station as I needed to drop off the EPIRB, but it might’ve been closer to Scenic World. Regardless, I was appreciative of their help and I returned the EPIRB before heading to Katoomba station to go home.
In writing about the first attempt I’ve remembered some things about the hike that were nice, but I’m also realising how much fitter I need to be for the third attempt. I also need to make sure that when it happens I’m properly prepared. Usual stuff.
I tried to write this in a way that captured the experience but to do that properly would require more words and less sloppy editing. I wrote something that is dry to read. Perhaps I was too concerned about creating a highlight reel which is something I try to avoid – probably too much – because it was life happening and that’s what I wanted to capture but I didn’t do a good job of.
It was a trip I was incorrectly prepared for, but it was still an experience that, both at the time and now I’m glad to have had. I reattempted the following year with Ewe (Even though the links are closer to the start of this rambling, here they are once more, just in case you want more dry writing) and the plan is to make another attempt at some point, hopefully within the next twelve months depending on what happens. But yeah, I’m glad both attempts happened. They were experiences and despite how tough they were at times, to me they were worth having.
Stupidity Hole 