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+======THE SYDNEY BUSHWALKER======
-/-1 I))
-\	:
+A Journal devoted to matters of interest to Members of the Sydney Bush Walkers, Sydney, New South Wales.
--k1-1
-z
-GLi
-"THE SYDNEY BUSHWALKER"
-A Journal devoted to matters of interest to Members of
-the Sydney Bush Walkers, Sydney, New South iliTales.
 No. 13.	June 1933.
 Publishing Committee:
 Misses Brenda White, (Editor), Marjorie Hill, Dorothy Lawry, Rene Browne and Mr. Myles Dunphy.
-EDITORIAL
+=====EDITORIAL=====
 When the Publishing Committee brought out the first issue of "The Bushwalker" in June, 1931, it was rather in the nature of an experiment. We thought it was high time a Club of our standing had some kind of a paper, either official or unofficial, in which the members could air their views (and talents) in prose and song. On putting the matter to a General Meeting, we met with rather a disappointingly lukewarm reception - the Club as a whole did not seem inclined to take up the suggestion, so it was ours for a private venture. Half a dozen enthusiasts banded together, threw in the nucleus of a working fund, and "The Bushwalker" came into being, with Marj. Hill as Editor.
 We are greatly indebted, as are so many others, to Myles Dunphy for lots of the spade work - in fact, on looking through No.1 we find that it was entirely written by Marj, Rene Browne, Taro and the ever obliging and capable Myles, who also made arrangements for the printing.
-Marj. said in her editorial: "This first publication is brought forward with the hope of future continuous help and patronage of our members; and in this respect the Publishing Committee invites them to consider their various experiences in the light of common interest to fellow members, and to hand in clearly written accounts, in serious or humourous vein, together with personal items or jokes concerning members or walking. Constant features of future issues will be reports of social events and equipment section." We did not knew what kind of a reception our little one would get, but hoped
-for the best - and, as sometimes happens to optimists, we were not disappointed. So we gaily went our way, worrying long-suffering people for contributions, & really their cheerfulness under provocation is amazing, and will probably earn them a reward when they "gather at the river" (not the Kawmung).
+Marj. said in her editorial: "This first publication is brought forward with the hope of future continuous help and patronage of our members; and in this respect the Publishing Committee invites them to consider their various experiences in the light of common interest to fellow members, and to hand in clearly written accounts, in serious or humourous vein, together with personal items or jokes concerning members or walking. Constant features of future issues will be reports of social events and equipment section.” We did not know what kind of a reception our little one would get, but hoped
-At length we arrived at our little one's first birthday, which we celebrated in a fitting manner by issuing our First Annual Number. A few weeks later we received a nasty jolt - a little pink paper made its appearance in Sydney - free, mark you - and it bore on its title page the legend - "The Hiker	ushwalker." Seeing we had not registered that pet word of ours, "Bushwalker", we could not prevent other people from using it, so we decided on the rechristening of our infant and legal adoption by the Club, and now on its second birthday we wish most sincerely to thank all those who have given their support, both literary and financial.
+for the best - and, as sometimes happens to optimists, we were not disappointed. So we gaily went our way, worrying long-suffering people for contributions, & really their cheerfulness under provocation is amazing, and will probably earn them a reward when they "gather at the river" (not the Kowmung).
-"BARRINGTON TOPS"
-By Jean Austen.
+At length we arrived at our little one's first birthday, which we celebrated in a fitting manner by issuing our First Annual Number. A few weeks later we received a nasty jolt - a little pink paper made its appearance in Sydney - free, mark you - and it bore on its title page the legend - "The Hiker & Bushwalker." Seeing we had not registered that pet word of ours, "Bushwalker", we could not prevent other people from using it, so we decided on the rechristening of our infant and legal adoption by the Club, and now on its second birthday we wish most sincerely to thank all those who have given their support, both literary and financial.
-You have asked me for some impressions of Barrington Tops. Well, the "Tops" in themselves- form a very small part of the allurement which takes us so often to that district
-I think it is the absolute change from the rugged and hostile country in the Kowmung-Kanangra district to the soft rolling hills of the Allyn and
+=====BARRINGTON TOPS=====
-Paterson Rivers and the fairy-like charm of the jungles or 'brush' to use the local term. And from the Mountain tops, to look down upon the rivers, threading like ribbons through a broader green band, that is seen in contrast
+By Jean Austen
-to the uncleared 'green timber,' is to feel a sort of restful assurance that
-one is welcome, the countryside as well as its people seems to open its arms and breathe a soothing welcome.
+You have asked me for some impressions of Barrington Tops. Well, the "Tops" in themselves form a very small part of the allurement which takes us so often to that district.
+I think it is the absolute change from the rugged and hostile country in the Kowmung-Kanangra district to the soft rolling hills of the Allyn and Paterson Rivers and the fairy-like charm of the jungles or 'brush' to use the local term. And from the Mountain tops, to look down upon the rivers, threading like ribbons through a broader green band, that is seen in contrast to the uncleared 'green timber,' is to feel a sort of restful assurance that one is welcome, the countryside as well as it’s people seems to open it’s arms and breathe a soothing welcome.
 In contrast to these impressions, I will tell you of the trip which Anice Duncan and I made to the Tops one September.
-Arrived at Eccleston late on a Friday afternoon, we made camp by the
-roadside. It rained a little but we were quite comfortable. Next day we walked through occasional showers to the head of the Allyn and made camp at
+Arrived at Eccleston late on a Friday afternoon, we made camp by the roadside. It rained a little but we were quite comfortable. Next day we walked through occasional showers to the head of the Allyn and made camp at the Hancock home; after the 15 crossings of the Allyn we were glad of a warm welcome and tea with cakes and scones in the early afternoon. Dick Hancock and his wife are indeed friends to walkers and will do anything in their power to ensure for a party the best of trips and comfort while camped at their place.
-the Hancock home; after the 15 crossings of the Allyn we were glad of a warm welcome and tea with cakes and scones in the early afternoon. Dick Hancock and his wife are indeed friends to walkers and will do anything in their power
-to ensure for a party the best of trips and comfort while camped at their place.
+They told us of a party of boys who had preceded us by some days and who had very bad equipment and rations which seemed to be mainly loaves of bread in sugar bags. Their shelter was a tent fly, and as the night before our arrival had been a bad one, there was some anxiety as to the boy’s safety. There had been a heavy fall of snow on the tops and we could see it shining in the sunlight.
-They told us of had very bad equipment in sugar bags. Their arrival had been a bad
-There had been a heavy in the sunlight.
+I had promised Ernie that I would take Dick's advice upon the advisability of our crossing the tops. This is, of course, regarding the weather. There come sometimes fogs that are very dense, and consequently very dangerous to travelers. However, this gentleman has a very high opinion of my capabilities in the bush, (unfounded as you will see later) and after many instructions about what to do in all sorts of emergencies, we set out on Sunday morning at about 9 o’olock. One way led us through several miles of brush and over two crossings. The brush was just beautiful with sunlight glinting down through the trees and ferns.
-a party of boys who had preceded us some days and who and rations which seemed to be mainly loaves of bread
-shelter was a tent fly, and as the night before our
+It is best to travel through these places without a hat as the brim hides the beauty of the tall trees, most of them potential telegraph poles draped and garlanded with Bird's Nest ferns, orchids, staghorns and creeping ferns and lichens too numerous to be comprehended in passing. Intermingled with these are trees with berries of all colours, and the large, soft, treacherous leaves of the stinging tree, while the ground is strewn with fallen lags covered with mosses and all kinds of ferns struggling up between them, the track is a path of fallen leaves. The Brush always reminds me of a pantomime stage set of Fairyland. There is not much life in the brush, occasional lyrebirds, a few small birds, pigeons etc., and an odd Brush Turkey.\\
-one, there was some anxiety as to the boys' safety0 fall of snow on the tops and we could see it shining
-I had promised, Ernie that I would take Dick's advice upon the advisability of our crossing the tops. This is, of course, regarding the weather.
+Arrived at the second crossing we sat for a while in the sunshine and admired the vines, ferns, orchids etc., swinging over the river from the trees. Our track now led straight up out of the brush and we climbed for the rest of the day through groves of treeferns and sometimes just ordinary climbing with an occasional pass on the side of the mountain with beautiful moss covered rocks to give us an excuse to stop and rest our weary backs. I will mention here that my pack was in the vicinity of 48 lbs (21.7kgs). Anice, who is not so strong as I, had something under that.
-There come sometimes fogs that are very dense, and consequently very dangerous to travellers. However, this gentleman has a very high opinion of my capa-
-bilities in the bush, (unfounded as you will see later) and after many instruc-
+Having come to the point where our track meets the Williams River and Dungog track, we grasped an opportunity for a rest while I told of my first trip with Ernie, when we had our lunch at this spot sitting on our haunches in the dense mist and heavy rain. On that occasion we went no further but returned to Sydney via the Williams to Dungog in pouring rain for two days and lucky to miss one of their greatest floods.
-tions about what to do in all sorts of emergencies, we set out on Sunday morning at about 9 otolock. One way led us through several miles of brush and over two crossings. The brush was just beautiful with sunlight glinting dawn through the trees and ferns. It is best to travel through these places without a hat as the brim hides the beauty of the tall trees, most of them
+However, back to our trip. Dick Hancock assured us that we would strike the first snow at about 50 yds. before our proposed camp spot for that night, and lol it was so. Anice was quite peeved because I pounced on the first particle and ate it myself. We were frightfully thirsty. However, there was plenty more, We camped on a small saddle in the ridge (Williams Range) where there is a spring, The ground was hard and stony and the space very limited and exposed to all winds, as we found to our despair later. We could not get away from it anywhere and it seemed to be working itself into a fury. Early to bed, We were very uneasy as this was our first night out really alone, in the wilderness. Suddenly our slumbers were rudely disturbed by a crash and the flopping of the tent around our heads. How I cursed Mouldy and his ridiculous tent poles which he had, with all good intentions I am sure, prevailed upon us to take, (A word here to the unwary - Beware of Mouldy's "light-weight" camping gear). I staggered out from under the ruins armed with torch and tomahawk into the night which seemed to be filled with swaying demons roaring in derision at our predicament, for wood suitable for tent poles was at that spot a thing of the past. (The riding parties stop here for lunch.) I clambered about frantically for a few minutes until I realised that my stomach was doing some queer convulsions, so I stopped short and addressed myself sternly and denied that I wished we had a spare husband somewhere handy. I could not find any tree or branch fallen or standing suitable for our requirements:, so I attacked the slip-rail of the horse corral or fence. At every second blow of the tomahawk the torch would go out. However, all things come to an end. Anice all this time was clinging to the flying tent. We were terrified because we were in close proximity to a barbed-wire fence and in danger of being ripped thereon. However, the pole secured, we were not long in fixing the tent again. But our peace of mind was gone for that night, and we were up early in the chilling wind scrambling down the side of the mountain in our endeavour to escape the draughts. The wind was coming off the snow.
-potential telegraph poles draped and garlanded with Bird's Nest ferns, orchids, staghorns and creeping ferns and lichens too numerous to be oomprehended in passing. Intermingled with these are trees with berries of all oolonrs, and the large, soft, treacherous leaves of the stinging tree, while the ground is
-strewn with fallen lags covered with mosses and all kinds of ferns struggling up between them, the track is a path of fallen leaves. The Brush alwaym reminds me of a pantomime stage.-set of Fairyland. There is not much life in the brush, occasional lyrebirds, a few small birds, pigeons etc., and an odd Brush Turkey.	Arrived at the second crossing we sat for a while in the sunshine and admired the vines, ferns, ordlids etc., swinging over the river
+There was a dear little Robin who was very interested in our doings and he looked lovely against the snow. It was piled in drifts all about the camp. We were not sorry to leave this spot, although our way continued ever upward and we were soon walking through snow up to our ankles. Our track now led us to the other side of the ridge away from the wind, over undulating country where the snow grass first became evident. We crossed a small creek and thought how much nicer to have pushed on to here last night and camped an level ground away from the wind. However, on we plodded, very excited indeed to be walking in the snow. We took a couple of snaps and gambolled with snow balls, it being Anice’s first glimpse of snow since leaving England, 5 years before, and the second occasion for me in my whole life. It was very beautiful in the sunlight with the treefems and lower growth showing clearly against the pure white background and the tall gums casting shadows all around.
-from the trees. Our track now lad straight up out of the brush and we climbed for the rest of the day through groves of treeferns and sometimes just ordinary climbing with an occasional pass on the side of the mountain with beautiful moss,-covered rocks to give us min excuse to stop and rest our weary backs. I will mention here that my pack was in the vicinity of 48 lbs. Anioe, who is not so strong as I, had something under that,
-Having come to the point where our track meets the Williams River and Dungog track, we grasped an opportunity for a rest while I told of my first trip with Ernie, when we had our lunch at this spot sitting on our haunches- in the dense mist and heavy rain. On that occasion we went no further but returned to Sydney via the Williams to Dungog in pouring rain for two days and lucky to miss one of their greatest floods.
+After some miles of this I began to get uneasy about the direction we were following. You see we had no track to follow in the snow, or rather it seemed we had a hundred tracks to follow. After a while we came out on the edge of a valley and I knew we were wrong before we took our map and compass and found we were heading North instead of West. So hastily consuming some chocolate and raisins we retraced our footsteps and made for the ridge we now knew we should be on. I am amazed at myself now for taking the direction we did but these mistakes are sent to try us. We suddenly stumbled on the track where we hoped to cross it and great was the joy in our hearts, after visions of being lost in the mist and all the terrible things that had been predicted for us by the people in Eccleston. We burst into song, and I found myself singing the 'Mad Scene' from Lucia. Anice was convulsed at my effort. We soon had a fire, in fact we were amazed at the ease with which we were able to get a fire going when everything was apparently saturated. But with some bark and some thin sticks that were standing upright and dry, we soon had some coffee. 'Snow Coffee' we voted as being the best in the world. We drank a large billyful between us, took more snaps and enjoyed ourselves immensely.
-However, back to our trip. Dick Hancock assured us that we would strike the first snow at about 50 yds. before our proposed camp spot for that night, and lol it VW so. Anice was quite peeved because I pounced on the first particle and ate it myself*	We were frightfully thirsty. However, there	was plenty more, We camped on a small saddle in the ridge (Williams Range) where there is a spring, The ground was hard and stony and the space very limited and exposed to all winds, as we found to our despair later. We could not get away from it anywhere and it seemed to be working itself into a fury. Early to bed, We were very uneasy as this was our first night out really alone, in the wilderness, Suddenly our slumbers were rudely disturbed by a crash and the flopping of the tent around our heads. How I cursed Mouldy and his ridiculous tent poles which he had, with all good intentions I am sure, prevailed upon us to take, (A word here to the unwary - Beware of Mouldy's "light-
-weight" camping gear).	I staggered out from under the ruins armed with
+On and upward again. Our next point to be located was Careys Peak, which I knew was not far off on our left. Came at last to the spot where the track swings away for the climb to the peak. Arrived there we had a marvellous view of the Allyn Valley and the surrounding ranges, but the wind was so strong that we mere almost afraid to stand upright. Here, as in several other spots, we found fresh orange peel presumably left by the boys ahead of us. We did not stay too long here but got back again to the track over the more or less level plateau towards the "Hut.” The track skirts around a large swamp. This place always seems to have a peculiar stillness about it. By this time we were feeling very tired and the occasional depressions full of snow that we had to plough through became very tiresome. One comes in sight of the Hut, but owing to the swamps it is a much longer trip than at first expected. We were almost exhausted when at last we dragged our weary legs through the last drift and across to the Hut. After a short rest we set about making a fire. It is a marvellous thing how a change of occupation is as good as a rest. On arrival we thought we could not move another ounce, but it became apparent that to eat and sleep in this place we must do extensive repairs. So while Anice was struggling with the worst smoky fire I have ever seen, I struggled with sheets of galvanised iron and logs of wood to prop them up with. In the wind that howled around the place this was no easy task and at one time I expected to find myself in two halves upon the snow. Poor Anice still struggled with the smoke. Of the two jobs I preferred my own although it required more energy.
-torch and tomahawk into the night which seemed to be filled with swaying demons roaring in derision at our predicament, for wood suitable for tent poles was at that spot a thing of the past. (The riding parties stop here for lunch.) I clambered about frantically for a few minutes until I realised that my
+In due course we had our meal, and as darkness came we turned the table over an its side (the legs immediately sank to the floor) and made a wall with the tent around one side of us, propped some furniture and poles against the loosest of the iron sheets and lay down. In spite of the thousand devils hammering and tearing at our abode, we were so fagged out that we actually slept. I really think it was a state of unconsciousness from exhaustion. My last thought, as a loose sheet of iron clattered on the roof, was the hope that we should be killed outright if something collapsed and not be left maimed to a slow death in that bleak spot.
-stomach was doing SOMB queer convulsions, so I stopped short and addressed
-myself sternly and denied that I wished we had a spare husband somewhere handy. I could not find any tree or branch fallen or standing suitable for our requirements:, so I attacked the slip-rail of the horse corral or fence. At every second blow of the tomahawk the torch would go out. However, all things come to an end. Anice all this time was clinging to the flying tent. We were
+Next morning came clear and beautiful and the sun shone warm and bright. Everything looked glorious. We only had to step outside our door and scoop up a billy of snow and melt it for water. I had developed a terrific headache overnight and could hardly see. A.P.C. (Bex) powders had no effect. We dallied here for a long time enjoying the sunshine. As we had no watch with us we had no idea of the time except that it was before or after noon. We moved on to the Barrington River about mile distant and decided to camp there as my head was too bad to carry the heavy pack. However, we rested ourselves by dragging in logs for a fire. The day wore on and the weather became bad again. We started out to explore but a mist came up and it began to rain, and remembering the stories of all the lost people on the tops we quickly returned to our home. Isn't it wonderful how little it takes to make the security of a home? We had a lovely fire and sat around it in between the bad spells in the weather. We retired early. Next morning, we were surprised to find the tent and all around covered with light snow, and as it was still very dull and cold, we decided to push on although my head was still roaring. We had camped on the spot where the motor road comes in from Scone via Tomalli.
-terrified because we were in close proximity to a barbed-wire fence and in
-danger of being ripped thereon. However, the pole secured, we were not long in fixing the tent again. But our peace of mind was gone for that night, and we were up early in the chilling wind sorambling down the side of the mountain in our endeavour to escape the draughts.	The wind was coming off the snow.
+The track to Stewarts Brook goes off to the left up stream. There is a small waterfall about 200 yds. upstream. On through uninteresting undulations to Mount Barrington, whence there is a beautiful vista of hills and valleys. There is a Trig Station here. We were unfortunate on this occasion as all the valleys were filled with mist and we could see nothing.
-' There was a dear little Robin Who was very interested in our doings and he looked lovely against the snow. It was piled in drifts all about the camp. We were not sorry to leave this spot, although our way continued ever upward and we were soon walking through snow up to our ankles, Our traok now led us to the other side of the ridge away from the wind, over undulating country whore the snow grass first became evident.	We crossed a small creek and
-thought how much nicer to have pushed on to here last night and camped an level ground away from the wind. However, on we plodded, very excite& indeed to be walking in the snow. We took a couple of snaps and gambolled with snow balls, it being Anioets first glimpse of snow since leaving England, 5 years before,
+The track from here goes steeply down to the North Arm of Stewarts Brook. It became hard at times to know if we were on the right spur owing to the mist and at times the track fades out entirely. I don't remember this descent very clearly, my head was so terrible. Eventually we arrived, at a deserted house used by stockmen occasionally. We had lunch there and after some good hot tea with lemon and more A.P.C. I felt greatly recovered. We still had a long descent to make to the Brook and finally we were down and we met a man who remembered Mouldy, Ernie and me from our previous trip. He was trapping rabbits and had been in the district for nearly twelve months.	We were charmed with the river and the soft gentleness of the different trees and the birds. Everything seemed fluffy and twittering and was a relief from the hard brightness of the tops in the snow. It is terribly steep from Mt Barrington to Stewarts Brook and you will notice it only took us a few hours to come down and it had taken two days to go up the other side,
-and the second occasion for me in py whole life. It was very beautiful in the sunlight with the treefems and lower growth showing clearly against the pure white background and the tall gums castimg shadows all around.
-After some miles of this I began toiket uneasy about the direction we were following. You see we had no track to follow in the snow, or rather it seemed we had a hundred tracks to follow. After a while we came out on the edge of a valley and I knew- we were wrong before we took our map and compass and found We were heading North instead of West. So hastily consuming some chocolate and raisins we retraced our footsteps and made for the ridge we now knew we should be on	I am amazed at myself now for taking the direction we did but these mistakes are sent to try us. We suddenly stumbled on the track where we hoped to cross it and great was the joy in our hearts, after visions of being lost in the mist and all the terrible things that had been predicted for us by the people in Bccleston. We burst into song, and I found myself singing the 'Mad Scene' from Lucia. Anice was convulsed at my effort. We soon had a fire, in fact we were amazed at the ease with which we were able to get a fire going when everything was apparently saturated. But with some bark and some thin sticks that were standing upright and dry, we soon had some coffee. 'Snow Coffee' we voted as being the best in the world. We drank a large billyful between us, took more snaps and enjoyed ourselves immensely.
-On and upward again. Our next point to be located was Cary' s Peak, which I knew was not far off on our left. Came at last to the spot where the track swings away for the climb to the peak. Arrived there we had a marvellous view of the Allyn Valley and the surrounding ranges, but the wind was so strong that we mere almost afraid to stand upright. Here, as in several other spots, we found fresh orange peel presumably left by the boys ahead of us. We did not stay too long here but got back again to the track over the more or less level plateau towards the "Hut.'"	The track skirts around a large swamp. This place always seems to have a peculiar stillness about it. By this time we were feeling very tired and the occasional depressions full of snow that we had to plough through became very tiresome. One comes in sight of the Hut, but awing
-to the swamps it is a much longer trip than at first expected. We were almost exhausted when at last we dragged our weary legs through the last drift and
-across to the Hut. After a short rest we set about making a fire. It is a marvellous thing haw a change of occupation is as good as a rest. On arrival we thought we could not move another ounce, but it became apparent that to eat
-and sleep in this place we must do extensive repairs. So while Anice was struggling with the worst smoky fire I have ever seen, I struggled with sheets of galvanised iron and logs of wood to prop them up with. In the wind that howled around the place this was no easy task and at one time I expected to find myself in two halves upon the snow. Poor Anice still struggled with the smoke. Of the two jobs I preferred my awn although it required more energy.
-In due course we had our meal, and as darkness came we turned the table over an
-its side (the legs immediately sank to the floor) andmade a wall with the teat around one side of us, propped me furniture and poles against the loosest of the iron sheets and lay down. In spite of the thousand devils hammering and
-tearing at our abode, we were so fagged out that we actually slept. I really
-think it was a state of unconsciousness from exhaustion. My last thought, as
-a loose sheet of iron clattered on the roof, was the hope that we should be killed outright if something collapsed and not be left maimed to a slaw death in that bleak spot.
-Next morning came clear and beautiful and the sun shone warm and bright. Everything looked glorious. We only had to step outside our door and scoop up a billy of snow and melt it for water.	I had developed a terrific headache overnight and could hardly see. A.P.C. powders had no effect. We dallied here for a long time enjoying the sunshine. AS We had no watch with us we had no idea of the time except that it was before or after noon. We moved on to the Barrington River about mile distant and decided to camp there as my head was too bad to carry the heavy pack. However, we rested ourselves by dragging in logs for a fire. The day wore on and the weather became bad again. We started out to explore but a mist came up and it began to rain, and remembering the stories of all the lost people on the tops we quickly returned to our home. Isn't it wonderful haw little it takes to make the security of a home? We had a lovely fire and sat around it in between the bad spells in the weather. We
-retired early.	Next morning, we were surprieed to find the tent and all around
-covered with light snow, and as it was still very dull and cold, we decided to push on although my head was still roaring. We had camped on the spot where the motor road comes in from Scone via Tomalli.
-The track to Stewart's Brook goes off to the left up stream. There is a small waterfall about 200 yds. upstream. On through uninteresting undulations to Mount Barrington, whence there is a beautiful vista of hills and valleys. There is a Trig Station here. We were unfortunate on this occasion as all the valleys were filled with mist and we could see nothing.
-The track from here goes steeply down to the North Arm of Stewart's Brook. It became hard at times to know if we were on the right spur owing to the mist and at times the track fades out entirely. I don't' remember this descent very clearly, my head was so terrible. Eventually we arrived, at a deserted house used by stockmen occasionally. We had lunch there and after some good hot tea with lemon and more A.P.C. I felt greatly recovered, We still had a long descent to make to the Brook and finally we were down and we met a man who remembered' Mouldy, Ernie and me from our previous trip. He was trapping rabbits and had been in the district for nearly twelve months.	We were charmed with the river
-and the soft gentleness of the different trees and the birds. Everything seemed flufgy and twittering and was a relief from the hard brightness of the tops in
-the snow. It is terribly steep from Mt. Barrington to Stewart's Brook and you will notice it anly took us a few hours to come down =AO had taken two days to go up the other side,
 (Further adventures; next issue.)
 Ed.
-"REFLECTIONS"
-The sunlight oasts o'er mountain peak
-A haze of shimmering blue;
+=====REFLECTIONS=====
-Through mighty gorge .by hidden creek
+The sunlight casts o'er mountain peak\\
-A. winding path pursue.
+A haze of shimmering blue;\\
-The river bubbles on ite bed,
+Through mighty gorge by hidden creek\\
-Its rippling waters gleam;
+A winding path pursue.\\
-All that my pen has left unsaid
-My soul reflects in dream.
+The river bubbles on its bed,\\
+Its rippling waters gleam;\\
+All that my pen has left unsaid\\
+My soul reflects in dream.\\
 T.W.
-wups GOLD FOSSICKMG STUNT.
-All plans set in my head, no compass or maps, I set off with twc good pack barriers9 Les Hadfield and Alex Ritchie, for Katoombat with over 60 lbs0 each including a heavyweight pick, shovel and dish. We arrived at Katoomba at 11 o'clock Thursday night and set off for the usual camping ground and over the first !farrow Neck. I started off with a bad back, but had to forget it as there are no Chemists' shops out that way. Up early and reduced our weight a couple of lbs. I mean the packs. We set our course for Glen Raphael and arrited in time for dinner. We counted 42 Hikers going over Clear Hill, so the hill will soon be worn away. A solitary tent was there and I knew it belonged to the Duke of Clear Hill as everything was square. He was out. After dinner I took my pals over to the edge and explained the country, told them what to do if they got lost and also told them where the gold was and all they had to do was to go back to camp and peel of their clothes and lay on the ground sheet in the sun and dream about all the gold that was in the Mountains. Just on dusk the Duke arrived with all his clothes in his pack and only his boots on. Informal greetings were exchanged and he told me that a certain Bushwalker was annoyed because he was making the bush safe for the Hilrers. I wonder who sold this Pommy our bush so he oould have it for himself. I think it a splendid action of the Duke to consider other people and let them enjoy the pleasures of his domain. We set off on Gbod Saturday morning over Clear Hill and down the Duke's laddera and along the ridge until we got thirsty, so we headed down to Carlon's Crossing at Breakfast Creek, As it was too cold on top
-we decided to have our first wash here and brought out the soap and had a good clean up, dinner and another sunbake and dream till tea time. Next day Good Sunday we decided to collect some of the gold instead of going to church although
-we heard the bell-birds ringing. We washed here and there along the creek, chased a rabbit, fell over and took a chip out of my knee, and then decided it was dinner time. Alec had a ready cooked fowl which we soon made a mess of and told him he ought to have brought two instead of one. Les shot two cookies for tea. T put them an at once to stew as they looked about 100 years old. I was right, they turnedloutkougher than my crepe soles. So we never interfered with Cooky anymore, only when we were asleep he troubled us after a heavy tea. We decided there was no gold there and packed up on Good Monday and made tracks for the back of Mt.Mouin. Very rough and poor camp sites. We camped on a ridge with a small waterhole in the creek. Tuesdvwe explored the creek down for about a mile before we struck water and had dinner, then triedbur hand with the dish. I had a powerful magnifying glass but could not see any colour. Back to camp and set off in the morning for Mt. Marrigal; we did not like the look of him and went off dawn a creek to try and get to Breakfast Creek; first water we camped. You know I have a weakness for water so can't go past any. Lem and Alec explored the creeks around and said it was too rough to take our packs dawn. I cooked them a full course tea. In the morning set off to find a way dawn and had to climb over some very rough country. I never blazed any trees as I did not know when I WAS going to get lost and did not want other Bushwalkers to follow me. After 2 hours, hard going we slipped down between two creeks, first water of course I oanped. Usual sunbake and exploration and washing for gold and ourselves took up the afternoon. Are saw 6 Wallabies and shut our eyes when a flock of Cookies went past - no more cooky-stew. Next morning we arrived in Breakfast Creek, not far from Canons. Washed a few dishes but no reaalt, dined and made tracks down the creek to a well-known camping ground. We had to stuff the food away as it did not appear to be getting lighter quickly enough. I had overstocked in the hope of getting lost, but no such luck in that part. There are too many landtarks, you can't dodge them. Saturday being the end of the week we decided to wash ourselves instead of washing dirt. I had my bath and
-dry when Alec asked me to get Lack in the water to take my photo. It was a bit too much, you know the temperature of Breakfast Creek at this time of the year. I
-obliged lad got rheumatics. Sunday we went in to the Cox and found our first gold
-under that part of the mountains named after me - Knight's Deck, So I told them to stop digging there as the deck might fall in. We left the gold there and mode for Harry's River, explored two miles of it and found our second speck. It was getting near tea time, so we knocked off and set back to camp. Over-eating made me call off food for two meals and I don't want to see any rice and bacon until next camp I go on. Our mission of locating gold carriediout, Monday we set off upstream until we got bushed at the junction of Little River. A very annoyed chap came along and told us we had no right on his private property and did Are see the notice "Trespassers prosecuted.' We used psychology and told him we were lost and could he put us right. He told us we could camp there, but we decided to push on to Jenolan Crossing, and I think it a bit off when we are prevented from walking along the best scenic River in the State. Rabbits by the hundreds here, shot two for a stew. Another bath in the morning and the razor was got to work on two weeks' growth. I looked 85 before I took it off' and did not want to go home a grandfather. Next experience I got when I left the Church in Megalong. I got lost and found myself going out to Carlon's again. I cut across the paddocks for about a mile before we struck the road to the old Pub site. We came up Nellie's Glen in the morning and home to Sydney. I have earned more gold in day in Sydney than I would make in the Mountains in a year. So ends my first gold hunt.
-Witf. THE CARILLON
-"May is here," came the message,
-liraited from the mountain dells,
-"Sunlit days to cheer your passage,
-It is time you came, Hell's Belles."
-So those five maids in the city,
-Heard the message, loud and clear, Hoisted packs, and sang this ditty,
-"We are coming, mountains dear."
-"Soon wet 11 walk along your bush tracks,
-Climb your rock mountain peaks,
-Scramble down through gorge and rock cracks,
-Bathe in your dear crystal creeks."
-":18y the camp fire, laze each evening,
-Listening to the night birds call;
-Countless stars above us gleaming, 'Tis the life that will not pall."
-W.B.L.
-There was a young lady named Fannie
-Whose ways were most uncanny;
-She went down the Grose
-And injured her toes,
-And now she walks like a grannie.
-Ken Matthews.
-M:_TTP-GONG WOLMNDILLY RIVER WARRAGAMBA PENRITH. EASTER 1929. .
-_
-This was a very early trip in the annals of. the Club; a very good one, with Much excitement The party elltrained on Thursday afternoon for Mittagong and a dark camp was struck an the border of the Municipality We were escorted there, together with another Club party, which was going down the Upper Nattai, by the Town Clerk of Mittagang, who saw us safely emmmped and then departed.
-The first night: Very unpleasant, waterymoon, light &Lowers, cold wind, no flre. It might be worth mentioning that camping was not as luxurious as it is these days. Eiderdowns were unheard of, ruck sacks had just made their appearance, Billy hooks were still fencing wire, and consequently space was at a premium and luxuries few The morning ushered in a beautiful day and the party clambered aboard a motor lorry which conveyed them 8 miles to Burragorang Lookout. This is a very good lookout. The valley lies at ones feet and unfolds itself into the distance to be arrested by the walls of King's Tableland,,
-Our first job was to identify the 'Immediate foreground with the parish map in our leader's hands After everybody had expressed his views, which disagreed with everybody else's, we decided to step into the picture by going over the edge, down a very steep mountain side into the valley. We reached the bottom with very wobbly knees- and would recommend others to look for a sheep track 1- mile further back, the knowledge of which we Obtained from a shepherd whom we met some hours later while wandering around foothills looking for a way to the Wollondilly River.
-We reached the river shortly after lunch when the pleasure of our trip commenced. After a mile of rock hopping the river banks widened out and cattle tracks made the going pleasant. The end of the first day found us at Burnt Flat Creek, which is a good camp site abounding in rabbits and covered in thick grass which makes good beds.	The second day found us following the Wollondilly which is an extremely beautiful river and the going was good. Towards evening, we care to signs of civilization, a woolshed about 5 miles from the Yerranderie Road. Then we 08210B to an apiary which was to be the site of the then President, Jack Debert's, farm. We finished the day at the Wollondilly Hotel and camped on the river flats
-close by.	The third morning was heralded with a dense fpg. awing to the ravages of blisters it was necessary tc leave three of the party behind. This day
-was really most interesting.	Our way led from the Upper Burragorang to the lower, through country known, but still beautiful, on hard roads, the saving feature of the day being a meal of stewed quinces and cream obtained by various means from farms passed en route. The fourth day found us early on the track down the famous Warragamba Gorge which hitherto had been described as impossible. We hugged the Western bank and fought gamely for some hours with all that nature could provide in
-the form of obstacles-.	To add to our discomfort we were hunting three steers, in a dubious state of health, which kept about three yards ahead of us all the way.
-Monkey Creek was reached about 11 a.m. after a very hard struggle. Here we were to cross the river and follow the track into Silverdale, but awing to the amount of water in the river, it was impossible to cross. Many methods were triedi We used every ounce of ingenuity and took many risks but still the river won.. Whet all seemed lost a canoe was discovered high up a tree where some flood had depositec it. When it was finally landed it was full of holes and consequently useless; we were back where we started until someone thought of the brilliant idea of placing the canoe in the tent. It worked The remaining part of the trip was tragedy, caused by lost time & tiredness. We missed the last car from Silverdale, caught till last train from Penrith and finally got home. It was a wonderful trip and one in which we were well pleased and satisfied.	PEDO.
-LITERARY EXPLORATIONS.
-Now that the cool weather has set in, most people on long trips will spend more time climbing hills than bathing in our mountain streams, so I think the following verses, which express so well what we have all felt on conquering a
-height, are most appropriate to the present season.	Brenda White.
-I never loved your plains, Your gentle valleys,
-Your drowsy, country lanes And pleached alleys.
-I want my hills! - the trail That scorns the hollow. Up, up the ragged shale Where few will follow.
-Up - over wooded crest And. mossy boulder
-With strong thigh, heaving chest And swinging shoulder. So let me hold. my way
-By nothing halted,
-Until at close of day
-I stand, exalted
-High on my hills of dream - Dear hills that know meI And then how fair will seem The lands below me.
-How pure, at vesper-time, The far bells ohimingl
-God gave me hills to climb And strength for climbing.
-Arthur Guiterman.
-H E
-	A R
-HAVE	U	D	of the enthusiast who, rather than miss the
-train for a walk on a recent Sunday, did a thing that, as far as we know, has not been done before in the annals of the Club, even by those who do things that are "not done"? This young man left home in a swanky Northern Suburb, attired only in shirt, shorts, and bedroom slippers!
-R
-of the other young man who went out in the dark to chop wood and marvelled at the
-	bluntness of the axe?	Its owner found it next morning with its leather sheath chopped throught
+=====WIFF’S GOLD FOSSICKING STUNT=====
-- 10 -
-KATOOMBA - CLEAR HILL - COX RIVER - KEDDMEA -WENTWORTH FALLS.
+All plans set in my head, no compass or maps, I set off with two good pack carriers - Les Hadfield and Alex Ritchie for Katoomba, with over 60 lbs each including a heavyweight pick, shovel and dish.\\
-OUR EASTER TRIP.	By One of the Trippers.
+We arrived at Katoomba at 11 o'clock Thursday night and set off for the usual camping ground and over the first Narrow Neck. I started off with a bad back, but had to forget it as there are no Chemists' shops out that way.\\
+Up early and reduced our weight a couple of lbs. I mean the packs. We set our course for Glen Raphael and arrived in time for dinner.\\
+We counted 42 Hikers going over Clear Hill, so the hill will soon be worn away. A solitary tent was there and I knew it belonged to the Duke of Clear Hill as everything was square. He was out.\\
+After dinner I took my pals over to the edge and explained the country, told them what to do if they got lost and also told them where the gold was and all they had to do was to go back to camp and peel of their clothes and lay on the ground sheet in the sun and dream about all the gold that was in the Mountains.\\
+Just on dusk the Duke arrived with all his clothes in his pack and only his boots on. Informal greetings were exchanged and he told me that a certain Bushwalker was annoyed because he was making the bush safe for the Hikers. I wonder who sold this Pommy our bush so he could have it for himself. I think it a splendid action of the Duke to consider other people and let them enjoy the pleasures of his domain.\\
+We set off on Good Saturday morning over Clear Hill and down the Duke's ladders (Tarros Ladders) and along the ridge until we got thirsty, so we headed down to Carlons Crossing at Breakfast Creek. As it was too cold on top we decided to have our first wash here and brought out the soap and had a good clean up, dinner and another sunbake and dream till tea time.\\
+Next day, Good Sunday, we decided to collect some of the gold instead of going to church although we heard the bell-birds ringing. We washed here and there along the creek, chased a rabbit, fell over and took a chip out of my knee, and then decided it was dinner time. Alec had a ready cooked fowl which we soon made a mess of and told him he ought to have brought two instead of one. Les shot two cockies for tea. I put them on at once to stew as they looked about 100 years old. I was right, they turned out tougher than my crepe soles. So we never interfered with Cocky anymore, only when we were asleep he troubled us after a heavy tea.\\
+We decided there was no gold there and packed up on Good Monday and made tracks for the back of Mt. Mouin. Very rough and poor camp sites. We camped on a ridge with a small waterhole in the creek. Tuesday we explored the creek down for about a mile before we struck water and had dinner, then tried our hand with the dish. I had a powerful magnifying glass but could not see any colour. Back to camp and set off in the morning for Mt. Merrigal; we did not like the look of him and went off down a creek to try and get to Breakfast Creek; first water we camped.\\
+You know I have a weakness for water so can't go past any. Les and Alec explored the creeks around and said it was too rough to take our packs dawn. I cooked them a full course tea. In the morning set off to find a way dawn and had to climb over some very rough country.\\
+I never blazed any trees as I did not know when I was going to get lost and did not want other Bushwalkers to follow me. After 2 hours hard going we slipped down between two creeks, first water of course I camped. Usual sunbake and exploration and washing for gold and ourselves took up the afternoon. We saw 6 Wallabies and shut our eyes when a flock of Cockies went past - no more cocky-stew.\\
+Next morning we arrived in Breakfast Creek, not far from Carlons. Washed a few dishes but no result, dined and made tracks down the creek to a well-known camping ground. We had to stuff the food away as it did not appear to be getting lighter quickly enough. I had overstocked in the hope of getting lost, but no such luck in that part. There are too many landmarks, you can't dodge them. Saturday being the end of the week we decided to wash ourselves instead of washing dirt.\\
+I had my bath and was dry when Alec asked me to get back in the water to take my photo. It was a bit too much, you know the temperature of Breakfast Creek at this time of the year. I obliged and got rheumatics.\\
+Sunday we went in to the Coxs and found our first gold under that part of the mountains named after me - Knight's Deck. So I told them to stop digging there as the deck might fall in. We left the gold there and made for Harrys River (Jenolan River), explored two miles of it and found our second speck. It was getting near tea time, so we knocked off and set back to camp.\\
+Over-eating made me call off food for two meals and I don't want to see any rice and bacon until next camp I go on. Our mission of locating gold carried out, Monday we set off upstream until we got bushed at the junction of Little River. A very annoyed chap came along and told us we had no right on his private property and did we see the notice "Trespassers prosecuted”? We used psychology and told him we were lost and could he put us right. He told us we could camp there, but we decided to push on to Jenolan Crossing, and I think it was a bit off when we are prevented from walking along the best scenic River in the State.\\
+Rabbits by the hundreds here, shot two for a stew. Another bath in the morning and the razor was got to work on two weeks' growth. I looked 85 before I took it off and did not want to go home a grandfather. Next experience I got when I left the Church in Megalong. I got lost and found myself going out to Carlon’s again. I cut across the paddocks for about a mile before we struck the road to the old Pub site. We came up Nellies Glen in the morning and home to Sydney. I have earned more gold in day in Sydney than I would make in the Mountains in a year. So ends my first gold hunt.
+=====THE CARILLON=====
+"May is here," came the message,\\
+Wafted from the mountain dells,\\
+"Sunlit days to cheer your passage,\\
+It is time you came, Hell's Belles."\\
+So those five maids in the city,\\
+Heard the message, loud and clear,\\
+Hoisted packs, and sang this ditty,\\
+"We are coming, mountains dear."\\
+"Soon we’ll walk along your bush tracks,\\
+Climb your rock mountain peaks,\\
+Scramble down through gorge and rock cracks,\\
+Bathe in your dear crystal creeks."\\
+"By the camp fire, laze each evening,\\
+Listening to the night birds call;\\
+Countless stars above us gleaming,\\
+'Tis the life that will not pall."\\
+W.B.L.\\
+There was a young lady named Fannie\\
+Whose ways were most uncanny;\\
+She went down the Grose\\
+And injured her toes,\\
+And now she walks like a grannie.\\
+Ken Matthews.\\
+======MITTAGONG WOLLONDILLY RIVER WARRAGAMBA PENRITH======
+ ====EASTER 1929====
+This was a very early trip in the annals of the Club; a very good one, with much excitement. The party entrained on Thursday afternoon for Mittagong and a dark camp was struck on the border of the Municipality. We were escorted there, together with another Club party, which was going down the Upper Nattai, by the Town Clerk of Mittagong, who saw us safely encamped and then departed.\\
+The first night: Very unpleasant, waterymoon, light showers, cold wind, no fire. It might be worth mentioning that camping was not as luxurious as it is these days. Eiderdowns were unheard of, ruck sacks had just made their appearance, Billy hooks were still fencing wire, and consequently space was at a premium and luxuries few. The morning ushered in a beautiful day and the party clambered aboard a motor lorry which conveyed them 8 miles to Burragorang Lookout. This is a very good lookout. The valley lies at ones feet and unfolds itself into the distance to be arrested by the walls of Kings Tableland.\\
+Our first job was to identify the immediate foreground with the parish map in our leader's hands. After everybody had expressed his views, which disagreed with everybody else's, we decided to step into the picture by going over the edge, down a very steep mountain side into the valley. We reached the bottom with very wobbly knees and would recommend others to look for a sheep track 1 mile further back, the knowledge of which we obtained from a shepherd whom we met some hours later while wandering around foothills looking for a way to the Wollondilly River.\\
+We reached the river shortly after lunch when the pleasure of our trip commenced. After a mile of rock hopping the river banks widened out and cattle tracks made the going pleasant. The end of the first day found us at Burnt Flat Creek, which is a good camp site abounding in rabbits and covered in thick grass which makes good beds.\\
+The second day found us following the Wollondilly which is an extremely beautiful river and the going was good. Towards evening, we came to signs of civilization, a woolshed about 5 miles from the Yerranderie Road. Then we came to an apiary which was to be the site of the then President, Jack Debert's, farm. We finished the day at the Wollondilly Hotel and camped on the river flats close by.\\
+The third morning was heralded with a dense fog. Owing to the ravages of blisters it was necessary to leave three of the party behind. This day was really most interesting. Our way led from the Upper Burragorang to the lower, through country known, but still beautiful, on hard roads, the saving feature of the day being a meal of stewed quinces and cream obtained by various means from farms passed en route. \\
+The fourth day found us early on the track down the famous Warragamba Gorge which hitherto had been described as impossible. We hugged the Western bank and fought gamely for some hours with all that nature could provide in the form of obstacles. To add to our discomfort we were hunting three steers, in a dubious state of health, which kept about three yards ahead of us all the way.\\
+Monkey Creek was reached about 11 a.m. after a very hard struggle. Here we were to cross the river and follow the track into Silverdale, but owing to the amount of water in the river, it was impossible to cross. Many methods were tried. We used every ounce of ingenuity and took many risks but still the river won. When all seemed lost a canoe was discovered high up a tree where some flood had deposited it. When it was finally landed it was full of holes and consequently useless; we were back where we started until someone thought of the brilliant idea of placing the canoe in the tent. It worked.\\
+The remaining part of the trip was tragedy, caused by lost time & tiredness. We missed the last car from Silverdale, caught the last train from Penrith and finally got home. It was a wonderful trip and one in which we were well pleased and satisfied.\\
+//PEDO.//
+=====LITERARY EXPLORATIONS=====
+Now that the cool weather has set in, most people on long trips will spend more time climbing hills than bathing in our mountain streams, so I think the following verses, which express so well what we have all felt on conquering a height, are most appropriate to the present season.
+//Brenda White.//
+====HILLS====
+I never loved your plains,\\
+Your gentle valleys,\\
+Your drowsy, country lanes\\
+And pleached alleys.\\
+I want my hills! - the trail\\
+That scorns the hollow.\\
+Up, up the ragged shale\\
+Where few will follow.\\
+Up - over wooded crest\\
+And mossy boulder\\
+With strong thigh, heaving chest\\
+And swinging shoulder.\\
+So let me hold my way\\
+By nothing halted,\\
+Until at close of day\\
+I stand, exalted.\\
+High on my hills of dream -\\
+Dear hills that know me\\
+And then how fair will seem\\
+The lands below me.\\
+How pure, at vesper-time,\\
+The far bells chiming\\
+God gave me hills to climb\\
+And strength for climbing.\\
+//Arthur Guiterman.//\\
+**HAVE YOU HEARD** of the enthusiast who, rather than miss the train for a walk on a recent Sunday, did a thing that, as far as we know, has not been done before in the annals of the Club, even by those who do things that are "not done"? This young man left home in a swanky Northern Suburb, attired only in shirt, shorts, and bedroom slippers!\\
+OR\\
+of the other young man who went out in the dark to chop wood and marvelled at the bluntness of the axe? It’s owner found it next morning with its leather sheath chopped through!\\
+======KATOOMBA CLEAR HILL COX RIVER KEDUMBA WENTWORTH FALLS======
+=====OUR EASTER TRIP=====\\
+//By One of the Trippers.//
 The trip may be said to have commenced with the journey from Sydney to Katoomba in a painfully overcrowded train - so much so, in fact, that when the passengers were piled on top of each other three deep (believe it or not), there was still no room for all their luggage, despite the generous facilities provided by the Government in the shape of about a dozen luggage racks quite 15" long. The train conductor had nothing but scorn for those sarcastic individuals who maintained that fifty or sixty suit cases could not be placed thereon, and, to show what he thought of the capacity of a carriage, even went so far as to order all the ladies inside off the train platform, under penalty of being put off.	Three of our party of eight responded to this edict, and travelled warmly in the carriage - the other five travelled incognito (a Latin term meaning "out in the cold").
 There are several interesting tales we could tell, if we chose, regarding that train trip. Have you heard the one about the commercial traveller and that Aythological lady, Delilah? No? Well, no wonder. The lady in question perhaps prefers to keep that to herself; but we might say in passing that we are happy to see the spirit of chivalry is not dead. And then there is the one about the poor little lad who was cruelly out off from his party, travelling in an earlier train, by a relentless guard who held that the train was overcrowded. We invited him to join our party, which he did, and sat, a dejected little figure, among the cinders an the train platform, with a piteous look on his face. Thinking he was beseeching coppers a kindly fellow-sufferer threw him a penny. It is worthy of note that he Ooorned this charity. And there was the lady who slept in a vacant apace of two Square feet in the carriage doorway, so that anyone who essayed to pass through had to step over her recumbent frame. One damsel who tried to pass through caused oomplications by becoming wedged in said space, thereby causing the unfortunate viotim all the horrors of partial asphyxiation. For the benefit of posterity the said victim aforesaid wishes to plaae an record the fact that asphyxiation is not an experience to be desired. We could also tell the tale of the three men Who dashed off the train at every stopping place and raved up and dawn the platform in an endeavour to bring back the warmth of life to their chilled anatomy. AS I have said, I could tell detailed stories under these headings, but space will not permit of this. Suffice to say that WE GOT THERE.