Volume 32 Issue 1 Summer 2007 - Confederation of Bushwalking ...

Walk Safely—Walk with a Club
Breakfast Creek
as you have never
seen it before
Or What can go wrong on a simple day walk
We met at the Dunphy Carpark on
a fine summer morning,
checked everyone had enough
water, had some commentary about the
silver mine we were going to look at, then
it was all go down the descent into
Carlons Creek.
The most notable and noticeable
aspect of the walk in was the openness of
the whole valley. Prolonged drought
conditions had removed so much green
matter – even the nettles were just about
non-existent. Everywhere there were
vistas of the Carlon valley I had never
noted before. It was as though this was a
new walk in strange country. The deep
glades that used to be full of ferns were
no longer. It was all dry, dry, dry.
There was not even a hint of moisture
in Carlons Creek from end to end. The big
dry continued all the way to the junction
with Breakfast Creek with side creeks and
bald ridges not normally seen now very
obvious. Arriving at the junction there was
some expectation that Breakfast Creek
would be flowing or at least have
significant pools of water. Instead it was
dry, just as Carlons Creek had been dry.
As it was now 10:00, we decided to
have morning tea. The openness of the
area was a shock. Where usually it was
necessary to fight your way around the
bushes to switch from the Carlons Creek
track to the Breakfast Creek track, it was
now a huge, wide and desolate open
space. A check of Breakfast Creek showed
not one sign of water with even the
the bed of Breakfast Creek
deepest of holes being bone dry. In the
whole length of Breakfast Creek down to
the Coxs River we counted only 7 small
pools of water, most of which were very
degraded and polluted.
The views we had of the banks and the
hillsides were atypical of most bushwalker
memories of the area. In the course of our
traverse we encountered only one black
Michael Keats
snake (Pseudechis porphyriacus) and it
was in need of food. Similarly the only
goanna (Varanus varius), which shot up a
tree in the creek had empty folds of skin
where there should be a well-rounded
belly. The wild life is doing it tough.
During the course of the day we found the
carcases of 4 wallabies that
presumably had either died
of dehydration or a
complete lack of nutrients.
The rocks in the creek
were mostly stained
reddish brown, possibly
from an algal bloom that
had flourished in the final
phases of the drying up
process. On the walls of the
deep holes there were
successive tide lines as the
water level fell and fell. At
the point where the
walking track cuts off a
tight loop and mini canyon
in Breakfast Creek, I took
the party down the dry
river- bed – an experience not often
available. Chris was heard to declaim, ‘We
would look back on this walk down
Breakfast Creek as one of the easiest ever
done’.
11:45 and the ‘man-made bench’
below the old silver mine filled our sights.
Taking water, headlight torches and
cameras we set off up the dry ravine to
the opening of the adit. Inside we found
three geckos (Phyllurus platurus) and at
the terminal end of
the workings a
single specimen of
the micro Eastern
Bent Wing Bat,
(Miniopterus
schreibersii
oceanensis) that
quickly moved out of
camera range.
Several wasp nests
were also identified,
some with pupae
intact and some
recently vacated.
A piece of quartzrich
gossan was
cracked open with
another rock to
reveal what might
have been the material that sparked the
original interest in the area. It certainly
gave off a strong sulphurous, acrid smell
that hung in the air for some time. After
an hour of fruitless activity looking for
other traces we set off for the Coxs River
junction for lunch.
13:00 saw most of the party under
the casuarinas munching contentedly. I
Photo at left: The Coxs River.
opted for a swim first. The Coxs River is
not at its best. It was just flowing. There
were many tadpoles to be seen including
a few very close to completing the
transition to frogs. They shot off to the
shallows as I monopolised the deeper
water. The pool I was in was just large
Wilf Hildur, before and after
enough to have a few strokes before I was
beached. At least I was now cool.
Back on the bank I was dry in seconds
and soon into lunch with gusto. Later Phil
had a swim as well. Just before we left
Geoff wanted to take a picture of Mounts
Jenolan and Queahgong with the Coxs
River casuarinas in the foreground. We
both noted that the sky in that general
direction was darkening rapidly. I
repeated my nostrum that it was unlikely
to rain as we were in the catchment area.
Um…
13:45 we started the return trek. The
air was breathless, the humidity rising,
drink stops were frequent. About a third
of the way along the Creek a couple of big
raindrops fell. They then disappeared.
Then they started again. The sky was
darkening rapidly. It was difficult to see
through the gloom. Several members
prudently stopped to put on wet weather
gear. Pam asked me if I thought it would
be heavy. I gave a qualified ‘yes’ but like
John I did not bother to put on a wet
weather
A
jacket.
bout 50 m on Teresa said ‘I think that
is a hail stone’. She stopped, picked it
up and sucked its cold surface, confirming
it. Then there were some more. We kept
walking. Suddenly the heavens opened
and unleashed a fury of hail like I have
never experienced. We each stopped
under the nearest tree to get some
protection from the growing intensity and
barrage of hailstones. They were getting
bigger, some pushing it to nearly 2cm in
diameter. They hurt a lot when they hit.
The fusillade became heavier, and
heavier. We sought protection by placing
8 | The Bushwalker Volume 32, Issue 1, Summer 2007