Text and photosIan Smith

First look at the Nepean River from The Rock Lookout

It gnawed at me. Every so often it would erupt in my head, letting me know it hadn’t forgotten. The vision of a scene denied by a fly, exacerbated by the fact that I’d only taken the one shot and was so anxious as to whether I’d be able to climb back up the sandstone safely I left it at that. Yet, when I got back to base, that should have been the shot of the day.... and I'd stuffed it up. Or, at least, the fly had.

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There was also the matter of that little trail at the first lookout of three. People had obviously walked there but, where did this tiny unregistered track go to? Would it get me beneath the sandstone which was the ultimate goal? While most others were satisfied merely with the lookouts, I felt that maybe there was more on offer here, a prize for the adventurous.

About three years previous, I’d been on the other side of the Nepean on the Fern Glen Walking Track. At the apex, beside the river, you can discern the sandstone ridges on the far side. I’d hoped one day to get there, especially beneath them. Today was that day.

The weather was kind; low twenty degrees and lots of sunshine. The only excuse was my fear of clambering down and up the sandstone again. Still, I had to go. The danger side of it would have to be repressed.

The Blue Mountains National Park entry was only a couple of kms up the road. I pedalled out in anticipation and broached the fence for the fourth time, bypassing the Rock Lookout and riding on past the Rileys Mountain Trail where, just a couple of days previously, I’d

The Rock Lookout

Ian C on The Rock

Rileys Mountain Trail

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walked with my namesake - except his middle name starts with 'C' so that’s what I call him 'Mr. C.'. We’d met on a misty rainy day somewhere on the Blue Mountains, became instant friends and have done a few walks since.

Up and down the erosion humps, getting slightly airborne as I crested a few, fulfilling the thrill seeker genes.

It was only beyond the Rileys turnoff, en route to Nepean Narrows Lookdown, that I nearly came unstuck. One hill is seriously steep and I’d been warned about it but had made it safely the previous trip. This time I eased off the brakes going downhill, to the point where the speed became unmanageable and it morphed into a real white-knuckle affair. At the bottom there’s a sharp left-hand turn and I just managed to pull it up and regather my senses.

Now climbing and more relaxed, I turned off soon after on the Nepean Narrows Lookdown track, a narrow walking trail where speed isn’t an option; which is just as well, otherwise I may have hit the large goanna before he had a chance to scarper up the nearby tree.

I parked at the Lookdown and the Nepean River was at its sparkling best. The lovely vista all the way to the Narrows and beyond was at its finest whereas, on my previous visit, the bridge at Penrith in the distance was made invisible by haze. A jet ski, a house boat and a fishing craft were all that disturbed the water.

Nepean Narrows Lookdown

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Dillwynia retorta

Ian on Rileys Mountain Trail

White gum cluster

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However, I was after the overhang and safety was the utmost consideration. I edged towards the drop, seeking a potential easier way down to the photographic point, though it was the ascent that I really feared. The descent made, I racked off half a dozen shots and checked them immediately before turning to ascend. After about a minute’s study I figured out a safer way up. Relief was palpable as I slithered between two small trees back to safety.

Wandering around to the actual viewpoint, it became apparent that more shots may be available by heading south along the sandstone outcrop. At every opportunity I sought out gaps and possible places for a descent, but none, save for those who carried ropes, were apparent.

In the end I was reduced to flattening myself on the top of a rock, leaning through a large gap with the camera held in a crocodile-like grip and clicking hopefully away in a cave. The results made it worthwhile, but I decided that no more risks would be taken here.

Back on the bike I kept my eye out for my lizard friend but he obviously didn’t view me in the same vein and failed to put in an appearance. So I went back to concentrating

View from Nepean Narrows Lookdown

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on my riding, swinging right onto the fire trail and then walking up the first part of the steepest hill because it’s so vertical your tyres just spin. At the top I was exhausted but the downhill thereafter is a thrill seekers’ delight. I manage to get slightly airborne a few times on the erosion humps and it's all a bit of a hoot.

Then, I’m back at The Rock and the mysterious trail that turns away from the regular route. It only carries on for about 100 metres before diverting left, down to the base of a long slab of sandstone fenced in by vegetation. As I brushed past, then turned right through a gap, a new world started to emerge, for here are rock surfaces sculpted by many millennia of weathering. Tentatively inching around the bases, you can but stare in

wonderment at what’s before you. Much more interesting than the view down the Nepean. Cup-shaped holes, straight line crevices and honeycomb shapes are all on show here while towering above are massive overhangs that leave you wondering just how long before they fall.

Bent and twisted eucalypts tell of poor soil and tough times in the past but they’re survivors, if nothing else. The stable sandstone is layered with dark lichen while recent geological faults show a stark orange surface in total contrast.

I’d half expected to come across a reptile or two but, apart from some distant bird calls and a few flies, the bush was eerily quiet. It’s another world down here, made for those of inquisitive mind with rich rewards. Perhaps you may be able to enjoy it sometime.

Author’s note: On two of the four days I rode my bike to the entrance gates. The other two I went in a vehicle and walked from there. All The Rock exploration is definitely walking only! The first two lookouts are relatively easy, the third will take a few hours.

Bushwalking with my friend Ian C. Smith

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