Hume and Hovel walk, Henry Angel to Lankey's Creek, November 2015.
Peter Lockley and I, having both done quite a lot of walking locally as training, set out on November 24th to walk part of the Hume & Hovell trail, from Henry Angel trackhead, south of Tumbarumba, to Lankey’s Creek, just 60 km away.
The weather was good as we drove out in two vehicles, headed first for Lankey’s Creek and the Lost Patrol Camel Farm, where we intended to leave one of the cars. We stopped for Coffee and fuel at Holbrook, then got on our way as soon as we could.
There was no-one around at the Camel farm, but I had rung Peter Downs, who runs the place, and asked if we could leave a car there for a few days, so we drove in, locked Peter’s car and drove on in mine.
We reached Henry Angel trackhead at about 11 o’clock and quickly got on the trail, following Burra Creek through the abandoned gold mine workings and on to the junction with Tumbarumba Creek, across the bridge and up the hills on the other side.
There was hardly any movement of air and it got very warm as we climbed, the temperature rising to around 35°C. When I last did this walk I found it quite easy and an interesting walk, but that was on about day 6 of a much longer walk. In other words, I would have been much fitter by the time I reached that section, whereas this time it was day one. On the other hand, the total distance to walk that day was only 16 km, and our packs weren’t terribly heavy, mine around 13kg.
Anyway, I found it a bit of a slog, and I had to rest quite often. It is true that I had celebrated my 72nd birthday a week before, so perhaps that has more to do with it than anything else.
On we went, repeatedly thinking that it would be all downhill from there, only to be confronted with yet another hill. But eventually we could see Mannus Lake, our target, through the trees, and eventually it really was all downhill to the end.
We got in, I suppose, at five o’clock. The sun, very low by then, was as hot as hell in the still air. The campsite was almost deserted, just one camper van with a solitary traveller in it, but to find a bit of flat ground we had to move away from the only table available, several hundred metres. We had lots of tea before starting to pitch camp.
The only water available is in the lake, and as it is surrounded by farmland the run-off was likely to be fairly toxic with chemicals. It was, in addition, very brown, almost the colour of black coffee, so Peter got out his filter device, guaranteed to remove all nasties. This seemed like a torturous procedure to me, as the filter clogged with muck very quickly, and had to be cleaned continuously. I decided, instead, on purifying tablets, and put in an extra one for good measure.
To add to our woes, we discovered that the ground, lightly grassed, was as hard as baked clay. Getting our pegs into it was pretty difficult, but we managed it in the end. We had dinner in fading light and went to bed early. The ground proved yet again to be very hard.
The following morning I experimented with a solar panel that I had brought with me. The idea was to keep a fairly large battery charged, and use our phones for navigation. I plugged it all together and hung it in full sunlight, but it was still not long after dawn. But it started charging immediately, and within an hour the battery and my phone were both completely charged. Good-oh!
We got under way at nine o’clock. Our target was Munderoo camp, 18 km away. The problem, which I hadn’t noticed last time I walked there, was that there is very little chance of shade, the route being entirely through pine plantations with wide roads and ten metres of unplanted ground between road and trees. The day got hotter and hotter. Again I was pretty exhausted, as the hills continued along a high ridge. I wasn’t enjoying this at all. The final straw came right at the end of the day’s walk, for the track fell so steeply that it was very hard to keep our balance, and this descent was at least a km long. Very tiring.
So we got into Munderoo at around three pm, I think, and I remembered the campsite immediately… I had stopped there for lunch last time through (having walked from the same spot at Mannus Lake, demonstrating again that I had been much fitter then… I walked on that time to Horse creek, another 7km on.)
There is a very pretty little creek running below the Munderoo campsite, and the water was clean and clear. Once again the first thing was to brew some tea and have a rest.
And then I said to Peter that I wasn’t enjoying the walk at all, and that we should re-think our plans.
I should have said before that right from the start of the walk Peter was having trouble with his boots: they were too small and giving him hell, causing blisters. So this, added to my lack of fun, made me suggest that the following morning we should pack up and walk to the nearest road (just a few ks) and hitch a lift to one or other of the cars.
Peter didn’t like this idea, and we talked it out for a while until he came up with a counter-proposal. We would leave our tents and all our gear except water and lunch, and do the remainder of the walk in one day, 27km. Then we would take Peter’s car and return to the campsite for the night. I said well, that was okay as long as we would turn back to the campsite immediately if we had any problems.
I was doubtful that we could, in fact achieve this, but it was certainly better than continuing as we were.
So next morning we set out at 7am under an overcast sky in a cooling wind, leaving our tents and gear at the campsite. The track was mostly easy, almost flat for the first three hours, and we got along famously, probably averaging 5km an hour. There were numerous logging gangs working in that district, and trucks were belting by every few minutes. The drivers were very thoughtful, and when they saw us ahead reduced speed to cut out the clouds of dust that would have enveloped us. Most of them stopped to talk to us for a few minutes.
Again, the first half of the walk was through forestry, but with the cool air and the clouds, I think we were both enjoying the walk. There were a few big hills, but with lightweight packs we took them fairly easily with only a few stops. I should add here that earlier this year it was discovered that the arteries in my right leg were 75% blocked, and for years I’ve had the sensation, when going uphill steeply, that my leg muscles were running out of oxygen. After this was discovered, and under the guidance of my good friend and GP Max Graffen, I started walking (almost) daily, most days going about ten ks, up hill and down dale without stop. This has produced, they tell me, collateral passages (arteries?) that by-pass the blockages. So I’m much, much better than I was six months ago.
Anyway, we came to the end of the pine forests at Carboona Gap and went on through old-growth forests, part of the Clear Springs station. This was lovely walking country, high above the valley below which we could see clearly through the open trees. From there we gradually descended in a sort of sloping saw-tooth, going down perhaps 50 metres then up 20 and down another 50, gradually reaching close to the valley bottom. Mind you, once clear of the trees the track was continually overgrown by blackberry bushed, three metres high and more, with branches like tree-trunks… the track will disappear if someone doesn’t do something soon!
Near the bottom the blackberries ended and we walked through grassy paddocks for a few ks , then across a smashed bridge over a creek, up the other side and down again to the next creek, which was Lankey’s Creek. It was around noon, so we stopped for lunch. A hot day, and my salami and cheese were turning to oil in their zip-lock bags, but nevertheless delicious. As we were resting in the shade of a rather decrepit poplar tree in a stiff breeze, there was a sudden crack from a tree twenty metres from us, and the top four metres of the tree snapped off and speared into the ground. Bloody glad we weren’t underneath that tree!
From there we walked through the paddocks towards the Lackeys Creek road, reckoning that the tarmac would be easier on Peter’s feet than an up-and-down dirt track. Once we reached it, Peter took off his boots and changed into Crocks. ‘Ah’ he sighed. ‘Bliss’.
We had eight ks of road to walk to reach the car. It was hot, we had a lot of ks behind us and we were both tiring. It took close to to two hours, but as we approached the Camel farm, from the wrong side of the road, someone called out ‘Michel’, and it was Peter Downs who had recognised me from years before. We had a bit of a yarn, he brought us a couple of ice-cold beers, and we got back to the car.
I have to say the whole walk was saved by the pleasures of the last day. I think Peter, too, too enjoyed the final day’s walk, though his feet must have been killing him. We drove back to the campsite and packed everything up, then on to the Henry Angel Trackhead to collect my car, on once more to Tumbarumba where we searched out a huge cup of coffee, drank it and then drove on back to Wagga Wagga. All in all I enjoyed it, though two hateful days out of three should be seen as a failure.
Afterword:
Well. This walk gave me plenty to think about.
Maybe I’m getting too old for the type of walking I used to do. Maybe I have to find a different way.
So: It is true that the weather can deliver a huge range of conditions. But mostly, when I walk it is fine. Sometimes hot, sometimes cold. On the whole, daytime walking, hot or cold is not a serious problem.
Why can’t I reduce my requirements? How about if I carried my usual 300 grams of food for each day. No tent, but a bivvy bag, much lighter. No stove, just a billy can… I only need to boil some water, easy done with a few twigs and a match. A vey light sleeping bag. The smallest of mattresses, which I already carry. No more than 2 litres of water.
Another alternative is to plan circular walks through a series of huts: take a car and carry just a mattress, just enough food, just enough water, a light sleeping bag and visit three huts - four days. Should be easy.
Or perhaps take a camper-van and visit a spot with one night away within reach. Two nights could make it a circular trip. Or maybe just day-walks, with a warm mattressed night between. Makes you think, yeah?
