Do you ever have days when you feel everyone is out to get you? Well, in Australia I know they are. A hoard of mosquitoes hovers outside the tent, a huge spider hides in Treacle’s mane, a colourful praying mantis sits on her rump. Antipodean insects won’t take no for an answer!
But the heights of Kosciuszko are cool while south eastern Australia reaches heights of 46°. We are grateful for the evening cold, the heavy overnight dews, even the rain. Braving the insects, we set out on further explorations on horseback of this wonderful park with its mountains and plains.
CIRCUIT 1
Long Plain Campsite -> Cooinbil Hut -> Dubbo Flat -> Broken Cart -> Magpie Flat -> Hainsworth Hut -> Long Plain
Leaving Long Plain camp our horses step out smartly, keen to be underway, all snorts at hidden smells and unknown dangers. We turn northwards, the plain immense and brooding under cool skies. Electricity pylons march in unison, giants watching over us, their humming a discordant note in the sky above us.
Picking our way on brumby tracks through boggy tussocks, rain begins. We unsaddle in seconds at Coonibil Hut and sit on the verandah listening to raindrops pinging on the tin roof as water drops from old gutters.
*
At the top of Long Plain Road we branch off on the Broken Cart Trail, following the pylons into the wilderness; we don’t see any one else for 3 days.
At Dubbo Flat, startled brumbies do a lap of the clearing before crashing away into the forest, the thundering hooves leaving a faint echo.Tiny mountain trout flash in the clear waters of the creek and in the evening we are an amphitheatre of bird calls.
*
A day in the forest on forgotten trails leads us through tall gums, their silvery trunks ethereal in the early morning light. A lyre bird crosses the track, a plumed flurry of intent, and jewel like parakeets flash through the trees. Turning a corner, a brumby on the track stops his grazing as he suddenly sees us, lifting his head sharply before spinning into the trees, instantly lost from sight.
Old fence posts in abandoned clearings speak of long ago endeavours, of times when thousands of animals were run on the mountain snow leases; miles of rusty wire still lie in wait, half hidden in the grass, to snare an unwary passer by.
Broken Cart is another old clearing where yards once stood. A magnificent bay stallion comes out of the forest to check us out, his loud snorts alerting us well in advance of his presence.
*
At Coolamine Homestead, two old houses have been restored. Paper lined walls make interesting reading from the 1930’s: a form of early insulation along with remnants of horse hair, now the pages are part of the history of the house. Outside there is an unusual double dunny.
Blue Waterholes are green: a creek in classic limestone karst country with tall ragged cliffs. Rock hopping and paddling between the sheer walls of Clarke’s gorge reveal mineral rich waters where platypuses swim. Nichols George is dry and honeycombed with caves. In the evening, kangaroos graze in the clearings. We swing around to the west over dry limestone plains with distant mobs of grazing horses.
*
Waking in the early dawn the cloud sits low on Long Plain: colder than the hills, temperatures can get down to -25° causing an unusual tree inversion: those most able to bear the low temperatures surround the plain with the more temperate ones higher up the slopes.
Magpies burble in the treetops and a kangaroo leaps the creek, legs akimbo, before he spots me and flees. How still it is, yet how noisy is dawn in the bush. A rich bay stallion gallops down to inspect our horses and reluctantly retreats when he sees us, gathering up his harem and driving them before him through skeletal grey gums on the burnt hillside.
The final day and brumbies gallop away from us across the plain. We ford the Murrumbidgee where it is still young with youthful meanders. A cluster of dark trees lead us back to Long Plain hut, pausing at Yorkie’s grave. A miner who died in 1892, his grave is in danger of being engulfed by a eucalyptus. His hut is long gone, only the nearby creek still bears his name.
Campsites on Circuit 1.
1. Long Plain Hut Camping: -35.698697, 148.539295
2. Cooinbil Hut: -35.355241, 148.382357
3. Camp at Creek: -35.323442, 148.371092
4. Dubbo Flat: -35.25250, 148.34452
5. Broken Cart: -35.283047, 148.354349
6. Magpie Flat: -35.371737, 148.404855
7. Hainsworth Hut: -35.401606, 148.360516
8. Long Plain Hut Camping: -35.698697, 148.539295
CIRCUIT 2
Rocky Plain -> Broken Dam Hut -> Happy’s Hut -> Brooks Hut -> Eucumbene River -> Harvey’s Hut -> Rocky Plain
Two clean cut Australian would-be cowboys ride out as we have breakfast. 10 minutes later a loose horse comes galloping back much to our amusement. We saddle up leisurely and wind down to the Eucumbene River. Sulphur crested white cockatoos search for fruit in the trees and take wing with raucous squawking.
Fishermen wait patiently. We splash through the river and climb steadily on stony tracks to the top of Four Mile Hill at 1,690 m. Fierce fires have left a forest of skeletal trees, though new growth is well advanced. Further on, Broken Dam Hut is a 2007 replica. Only the old chimney remains of the original, a rusty sentinel in the long grass nearby, burnt in the 2003 bushfires.
A lazy afternoon on the verandah. Ungrazed since the 50’s, the horses enjoy good grass. Wild mint perfumes the air as it is trodden underfoot. Apart from the buzzing of flies, all is still – we kill so many it almost becomes a contest, the wooden floor boards littered with crispy bodies.
*
Thunder and rain clear in the morning as we try to find the old Elaine Mine on a nearby creek. The scrub is too thick to penetrate and we only succeed in startling a possum, all big eyes and fluffy tail. Let her keep her secrets for another day. Skies stay dark and stormy, huge fluffy white thunderheads and black horizons.
On Tabletop Mountain there are 360 degree views of endless rolling dark mountains. I find a mini chocolate bar in a cache. For 10 minutes we have mobile reception: this holiday is a digital detox.
A short cut to Happy’s Hut is overgrown so we have an extra 7 km on high tracks along the Great Dividing Range. The plain is wild with broom and rocky outcrops; it feels very remote.
There is someone in residence, but she doesn’t like horses and cycles off. So many are seeking an unrealistic nirvanah of pristine alpine wilderness that was lost with the first footfall. We enjoy the view from the verandah and warm up by the fire. It is good to be alone.
*
Following the treeline, it is a short ride to Brooks Hut and an easy day for the horses. We have a superb 180 degree view. Undulating wide plains are surrounded by forested mountains. We ride through swathes of yellow flowers, dainty daisies and blue harebells. There are signs of wild pigs but no brumbies. The hut is a replacement following the 2003 fires and offers cosy one roomed comfort. At 1,600 m it is cool and still stormy. Later we retreat to the hut, enjoying the sound of raindrops on the tin roof.
*
Morning cloud lifts slowly off the plain gradually revealing the rugged tors. The horses are bathed in a golden buckskin glow. We skirt the plain, follow power lines and an avenue of eucalpyts then drop down to Lake Eucumbene. There are one time grazing lands with ruined fences and park like clearings. The reservoir is low and we are able to follow the lost highway, crossing the river downstream of the old wooden bridge.
We camp beside the Eucumbene River. There is a fiery sunset on the dappled water as trout rise to the evening flies. Kangeraroos look at us with quivering ears as they think to flee.
*
The next day we climb to the heights of Tantangara Mountain, 1,752 m. We pass an old steam engine, rusting away quietly in a hidden corner of the forest and wind up under power lines. A narrow bridleway cuts over to the Highway, the pack horses scraping through the scrub. We scurry over this sign of civilisation and merge back into the silvery trees. At the top twisted snowgums writhe, obscuring distant views, endless low hills, faint valley clearings.
The weather changes constantly. Thunder rumbles and we descend, though only 100 m. Lightening flashes through the dark skies ahead of us. We unsaddle just in time as the heavens open. Harvey’s Hut is the cosiest yet, we crank up the wood burning stove as rain sets in. A mouse emerges from a corner of the hut, glossy chestnut with a pointy nose. The horses shiver with cold. They were on the plains in 44 degree heat two weeks ago. Later bright stars are revealed and a sharp new moon.
*
Our final ride back along the ridge to Rocky Plain takes only 50 minutes. Scudding cloud and a wonderful play of light and sun on distant hills. There is a cool wind and the horses step out smartly. We give them a feed back at our truck, load up and drive into Adaminaby. In a fly fishing area, it displays a statue of a Big Trout. After two weeks of noodles and pasta, a steak sandwich at the Bake House is heaven. We restock on groceries and drive back into the park.
***
Campsites on Circuit 2
- Rocky Plain: -35.533001, 148.323002
- Broken Dam Hut: -35.570999, 148.295566
- Happy’s Hut: -36.00423, 148.322176
- Brooks Hut: -36.01485, 148.311124
- Eucumbene River below Denison: -35.563862, 148.3600
CIRCUIT 3
Ware’s Yards -> Murrumbidgee below Tantangara Dam -> Murrumbidgee south of Love Nest in the Sallees -> Oldfield’s Hut -> Clearing on creek near Currango -> Murrumbidgee south of Love Nest in the Sallees -> Schofield’s Hut -> Gavels Hut -> Ware’s Yards
6 am and minus 1° at Ware’s Yards. The horses are shivering and there is ice on the tent. Custard has gone walkabout: he is near the riding club camp. I call and he comes trotting back. I can tell they are impressed. A warm fire and porridge are a good start to the day.
We head due north on the Tantangara Road. There are good views over the reservoir as we approach. Fishermen are camped around its edges. Passing the dam wall, we cross a bridge and have lunch on the other side. The river is slow moving, its waters diverted elsewhere. Glorious blue skies and sun which is a pleasant change.
We explore an ox bow in the Murrumbidgee and get no further: a simply perfect campsite. Big flats with good grass for the horses, a nice shady tree above the water for us. The joy of lazy days, a good book, beautiful scenery, this wild country to ourselves.
The evening is cool and after supper we linger around the fire as the stars gradually emerge. The milky way is vivid. Later a lone brumby stallion arrives, an old one. He causes no trouble, just lingers close by and nickers wistfully.
*
We continue along the Murrumbidgee on brumby pads, seeing a few near the tree line. It is sad to think that they may soon all be gone from the park due to environmentalism:- they are part of its heritage.
At Townsend’s Hut, there are fishermen in residence with rubbish scattered everywhere. We ride on, criss crossing the clear waters of the river and eventually emerging below the enchantingly named Love Nest in the Sallees hut. One would have to be desperate but frighteningly, I feel it may be the most authentic hut in the park.
A bend in the river due south provides us with another perfect camping spot. Bizarrely there is an abandoned fridge. Every side is punctured with bullet holes. The river runs between vividly green river grasses and water lilies grow on its edges. I narrowly finish my bath before a group of riders come through.
A new moon bright enough to create moonshadows. We fall asleep to the sounds of the horses cropping the short grasses and the murmurings of the river.
*
A sunny day but a howling wind. I don’t feel safe riding under the old creaking eucalyptuses, they are unreliable at the best of times. The younger trees sway violently but are more flexible. A faint car track leads us up from the river to join a fire trail. We climb up steeply and get phone reception briefly at the top. Going down, we walk. I can hardly keep my feet on steep and stoney slopes.. Another trail leads us round the hill and yet more precarious downs. The pack horses have the short straw today. A final steep ascent. I walk and hang onto Treacle’s tail for a tow – it would be unfair to ride up such hills.
Finally the track becomes kinder. We wend past giant trees, a little creek, scattered clearings. There are good camping spots but the wind is ceaseless. The sky is a strange washed out colour. Simon says dust, I hope not smoke. We decide to head for Oldfield’s Hut with its open spaces. A lovely old cattleman’s hut built in 1925, it has a wide shallow verandah and great views. The saddles look quite at home on the worn floorboards and I like to think the old owners would approve.
We tether the horses out and seek a seat out of the wind. Later, the hut looks really cosy by firelight. People once lived in these huts: it is nice to think they are still in use. They have so much history and character.
*
The calm after the storm: a bright sunny day but a very cold breeze. The hut glows in the morning light, warm old timbers and rusty tin. The horses have an easy day. We linger until late morning then cross the hill back into the plain country. Wide horse paths lead us to Old Snowy Camp for lunch.
More narrow tracks through the snow gums towards Currango Homestead, a restored property where it is possible to stay. There are many brumbies in this area and the grass is poor. We camp at a creek crossing in a clearing of scattered tall trees. There is the rhythmic sound of cicadas in the air and the distinctive cry of a magpie. The horses disturb small yabbies in the creek
*
The eerie howling of wild dogs in the night. I would happily shoot them. At least the brumbies don’t prey on the native wildlife. Below freezing again. Frost covered grass sparkles in the early sun but there is a rapid thaw.
An easy day today, only a couple of hours back to our last Murrumbidgee camp spot. We move between river and shady tree depending on the temperature. The horses are flat out in the grass. They appear to like it here too. I am reading Game of Thrones, a world as remote as this. We see no one, mobiles do not work, the world outside is beyond my control.
Vivid evening reflections in the water until the trout start to rise and ripples spread.
*
Low cloud rapidly lifting. A lonely chestnut colt trails us briefly until we leave his territory. Plaintive neighs follow us. The Jadar Trail climbs gradually up through the trees to Jadar Mountain at 1,511 m. A eucalyptus forest is a tangle of old and new, dead wood and saplings. The bark hangs in strips creating rainbow colours, they bleed a bright scarlet sap. At the top there is an old wooden trig, virtually indistinguishable from the trees. We can see the Tantangara Dam Wall and our first Murrumbidgee campsite.
Kangeroos flash past as we descend. A short cut to Circuits Hut is a hazard of wombat holes. They are well disguised. By the time one notices them it is generally too late and the horses flounder. Circuits is a smart wooden hut. We have lunch, sign the visitors book and carry on.
Camp is at Schofield’s Hut. It lacks character but there is good grass. I wander the old sheepyard fences, lines of rusty wire and hand hewn posts that list sadly and think of all the effort that someone once put into building them. Four old tin containers lie in the grass. I wonder when the sliprails were dropped for the last time, how it felt that it was all over..
Dinner cooks on the open fire outside the hut as the horses enjoy grazing on the short grass. We saw two snakes today. Normally one never sees them but they are plentiful this year. We wonder what makes a good year for snakes.
*
We do virtually a whole circuit round the edge of Nungar Plain, driving the brumbies from one end to the other and back again. Low cloud is lifting as we leave, softening the silhouettes of the trees and bathing the forest in a soft golden glow as the sun struggles through. Out on the plain under big open skies, the vegetation is low with small creeks.
Merging back into the trees we ride through a Wildwood of eucalyptus with strange contorted limbs. Brayshaws Hut is the smallest in the park but has a great location. More old sheep yards as we skirt the plain, a dog skeleton, a kangeroo skeleton, the latter creating the animal’s outline perfectly on the flattened grass.
A hut that didn’t make it, a pile of rusty corrugated iron sprinkled with old cans, containers, broken bottles. Another snake encounter: having left the track, it doubles back and becomes a writhing mass under the horses hooves. Treacle steps on it. I fear it may be mortally wounded as it finally disappears into the scrub but obviously one isn’t going to check.
Gavels is another quaint old cattleman’s hut, apparently with a resident possum. I have to brush it out before we can safely take residence. A warm afternoon merges into a still evening. The moon is waxing and the nights becoming lighter. Near the plain, the temperature drops rapidly once the sun has gone. It is such an ideal climate, I don’t know why all of Australia doesn’t decamp to the mountains for the summer.
*
Undisturbed by possums in the night. A fine morning and a short ride back to Ware’s Yards, winding up on a bridleway to the top of a baldy hill. Great views in all directions. The going down is much steeper. The horses get a welcome feed and then we throw them on the truck. Sad to say we drive down to Adaminaby again for another delicious steak sandwich, after all, it has been a week of noodles and pasta!
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Campsites on Circuit 3.
1. Ware’s Yards: -35.87674, 148.620273
2. Murrumbidgee Camp 1: -35.79526, 148.680755
3. Murrumbidgee Camp 2: -35.775476, 148.721953
4. Oldfield’s Hiut: -35.677478, 148.7551
5. Creek near Currango Homestead: -35.721961, 148.05961
6. Murrumbidgee Camp 2: -35.775476, 148.721953
7. Schofield’s Hut: -35.852537, 148.67525
8. Gavels Hut: -35.897361, 148.661614
9. Ware’s Yards: -35.87674, 148.620273
CIRCUIT 4
Bullocks Camp -> Hains Hut -> Witzes Hut -> Gooandra Hut -> Bullocks Camp
A short circuit to bring an end to our days in Kosciuszko. From the high plains of Bullocks Camp, we ride down through rolling hills to our old friend the Murrumbidgee as it winds its way through small rugged gorges en route to Tantangara Resevoir. There are a lot of brumbies in this area -and rabbits. I see 1080 poison has been laid for the rabbits, more usually it is used against wild dogs and foxes.
Hains Hut lies on a little creek just above the banks of the Murrumbidgee. Swallows nest in it and it is rather grubby and dusty. After a sweep, it is good enough for us. Late in the afternoon a storm rolls in. One thunderclap is so violent, I can feel it reverberate through the verandah. It is nice to sit and watch the rain fall when one’s dry and warm.
Later in the evening calm I climb the opposite hill and find an enchanted river valley with grazing brumbies.
*
We ride east following the track I found the previous evening. The Murrumbidgee wends its way through tranquil river flats. We cross a couple of times then climb up and over a ridge. A large flat grassy area with brumbies. They flee and 10 minutes later a foal emerges, having been left behind. He runs in panicked circles around us until he gets his bearings and follows the herd.
We drop down to Nungar Creek, too late as we end up in thick forest, but eventually we emerge and follow it upstream to where we can cross. The ground is not as boggy as it looks. Another ridge and we get fabulous views over Tantangara Reservoir. We are lucky enough to find a brumby pad going in the right direction and follow it up and over a hill through many dead trees. The pad is well worn. Sometimes a new limb has fallen and it deviates onto a fainter path.
Heading south again along Nungar Creek, the horses jump the boggy streams. We emerge on a road near Blanket Plain for the final few km to Witzes Hut. Built of reclaimed timber slabs from an older homestead, it has a lot of character. On a popular walking track, it is well kept and clean.
A huge full moon rises through the trees and slowly the world is turned into a griselle collage. It is bright enough to read by.
*
Car tracks on the landscape will endure longer than any brumby pad should the brumbies go. We follow old scars across the plain and join a track. If we swung a left we would be at the hut in 2 km but we take the longer, as scenic, route. A rounded hilltop looks nondescript but here is nothing nondescript about the view at 1,384m.. The wide sweep of Tantangara Plain lies below us, dotted with herds of grazing horses. There appears to be a strong roan gene at this end of the park. The greys stand out, betraying the location of the mob, but they are shy. We are at least a km away yet they are galloping for the trees.
We follow a new gravel road that scars the landscape, part of the Snowy Hydro 2 scheme. I am not sure it is doing the park any favours. The plain is boggy in places and our horses, unused to bogs, flounder. They jump and end up making more mess than the brumbies who just paddle through.
Our final hut stop is Gooandra Homestead, a big wooden house with a spacious veranda from where there is a lovely view of the plain. To one side stands the incongruous ruined fireplace of a previous miner’s hut, like a bizarre bush Parthenon. We chill out on the verandah. In the evening, I walk down to the plain to watch the brumbies come down for water.
We are sitting by the camp fire as the full moon climbs through the trees. It crackles and embers fly in the sky.. All is peaceful and still, how lucky we are to be able to enjoy such country.
*
26 days of riding are over. Cloud lifts slowly as we skirt the plain once more. We meander back to Bullocks Camp on a bridleway, untack and tie the horses out. Later we take their shoes off: they have all done a good job and can have a well earned rest. Custard attacks the scotch thistles.
A final campfire as the day fades. Big fluffy white thunderheads gather over the dull green mountains.The magpies call, and far away I can see the plain where the brumbies are grazing.
***
Campsites on Circuit 4
1. Bullocks Camp. -35.463481, 148.310744
2. Hains Hut: -35.4611.56, 148.352997
3. Witzes Hut -35.484207, 148.350005
4. Gooandra Homestead -35.480231, 148.321161
5. Bullocks Camp -35.463481, 148.310744
NOTES
More information on Kosciuszko National Park here. There are designated horse/truck campsites at Bullocks, Rocky Plain, Cooinbil, Long Plain, Ghost Gully, Ware’s Yards and Old Snowy. All are free, as is park entry to this end of the park. Using packhorses gives you the freedom to go anywhere (apart from Wilderness areas and the area in and around Blue Waterholes and Yarrangobilly Caves) and camp anywhere. If coming from the north, the Tourist Office at Tumut has an excellent range of maps – the Rooftop Series are generally adequate.
There is little mobile reception in the park, except on top of the occasional hill. The nearest supplies are at Talbingo and Cabramurra (limited) or Adaminaby and Tumut. At Adaminaby, I can strongly recommend the Bakehouse Cafe. In Tumut, the Tumut River Brewing Co, opposite the Tourist Office, does great pizzas and has 24 yummy home brewed beers on tap.
