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--- 196910 [2016/04/11 15:29] – kennettj
+++ 196910 [2016/04/23 09:41] (current) – [From the Winborndale to the Turon] kennettj
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 The track is obviously a cattle track from the Hunter to the west built up, graded sufficiently obscure for nefarious activities. It skirts Mt Cox, passing impressive balancing sandstone slabs, the foliage only slightly scratchy. Towards Pomany the only water is encountered, muddy, barely flowing, incredibly sweet. This is not where Pat has planned lunch. He is no match for the white ants. Two dried leaves, a flaring match is legitimately the start of a lunch fire. It is, after all, exactly midday. The oranges can wait for more desperate times.
-Pat assaults Pomany. Not a difficult task. There is an Alpine flora on top and the aforesaid 6000 square. miles of view. While the rest of us disport ourselves, Pat looks at his map for the thousandth time. There is no ready solace. Beneath the map, in his marsupial holder, there is an aerial photo on which I can't even see the abundant cliffs. Beneath the photo, a last resort, there is a preliminary contour map. The cliffs arc really black on this one.
+Pat assaults Pomany. Not a difficult task. There is an Alpine flora on top and the aforesaid 6000 square miles of view. While the rest of us disport ourselves, Pat looks at his map for the thousandth time. There is no ready solace. Beneath the map, in his marsupial holder, there is an aerial photo on which I can't even see the abundant cliffs. Beneath the photo, a last resort, there is a preliminary contour map. The cliffs arc really black on this one.
 We all descend the basalt sore: like the men of the Duke of York. Below the basalt there is scratchy foliage and a cliff. We sidle through more scratchifoija to a ridge. And another cliff. We look with more interest than hope over other cliffs and into deeper chasms. Pat is confused. I am not.	I know that I will can near the Pomany hut, rise late and retrace my steps along the rides.
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 I pulled my sleeping bag over my head. I had made a separate peace.
 ====== From the  Winborndale to the Turon  ======
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 When Alex Colley suggested a trip from Bathurst to Capertee across the Winborndale Rivulet and the Turon River, I knew that the temptation would. be too great to resist, although at the time I had not give him a definite answer. My army training had been done in the Infantry Battalion near St. Anthony's Creek (a tributary of the Winborndale or Winburndale as it is also spelt) and I had very pleasant memories of walks in the area whenever 1 had some spare time. In fact, the first day after I arrived at Bathurst we were taken on a groat 28 miler out along the Western Highway to Yetholme, around the Ovens Range, and than back to camp along the Winborndale. For many years nostalgia had been tugging at me, and consequently it did not take me very long to give Alex an answer in the affirmative.
-Friday night before the Labour Day Weekend saw five of us (Alex, John Scott, Gordon Redmond, Reg Meakins and myself) aboard the 7.00 p.m. train for Lithgow, whence we took a taxi to Napolean Reefs at the head of St. Anthony's Creek, or Green Swamp Creek as it is also known. Although we were in camp here at 11.30 p.m. and had the billies boiling on the fire, some of us stayed up yarning until 1.00 a.m on the Saturday morning. We were just far enough away from the road not to be troubled by the incessant roar of cars hurtling their way towards Bathurst and the motor racing there.
+Friday night before the Labour Day Weekend saw five of us (Alex, John Scott, Gordon Redmond, Reg Meakins and myself) aboard the 7.00 p.m. train for Lithgow, whence we took a taxi to Napoleon Reefs at the head of St. Anthony's Creek, or Green Swamp Creek as it is also known. Although we were in camp here at 11.30 p.m. and had the billies boiling on the fire, some of us stayed up yarning until 1.00 a.m on the Saturday morning. We were just far enough away from the road not to be troubled by the incessant roar of cars hurtling their way towards Bathurst and the motor racing there.
 Saturday morning was very clear after a crisp night and we were up and on the move by 7.00 am. The countryside was a picture of green, and as Spring comes later up here, the occasional Willow along
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 Below "Albany" we walked through open fertile paddocks until we came to the narrower, uncleared part which lies above and below the junction of Coolamigal and Cox's Creek. We had lunch above the junction. From here downstream we continually camp upon holes that the miners had dug a hundred years ago. The junction with the Turon was reached at 3.45 pm and we spent half an hour here listening to sales talk by a chap about the Yanks, and Germans, and others he takes out on High Safaris and other synthetic adventures.
-The Turon is a great walking river it is just like the best parts of the Cox, There are successive horseshoe bends and the result is that there are the largest flats you ever saw, all the way. You can camp anywhere and you can cross the river practically anywhere. You couldn't got a better river for walking.
+The Turon is a great walking river it is just like the best parts of the Cox. There are successive horseshoe bends and the result is that there are the largest flats you ever saw, all the way. You can camp anywhere and you can cross the river practically anywhere. You couldn't got a better river for walking.
 Our last camp was made at 5 pm and we were up again at 5.30 am next morning (Monday) and on our way by 7.30 am for about 8 miles of beautiful river walking before pulling out on a good ridge which got us back to the Mudgee road about mile from Capertee.
-A brief pause at the hostelry where three indulged fully, one partially indulged, and one completely abstained, than on to the Railway Station where we boiled the billies on the Stationmaster's fire before catching the 5.p.m. train for home.
+A brief pause at the hostelry where three indulged fully, one partially indulged, and one completely abstained, than on to the Railway Station where we boiled the billies on the Stationmaster's fire before catching the 5 p.m. train for home.
 ====== Observer ======
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 Your child can either\\
-a) Cheat (This includes calling Your Cox trip "A Holiday in the Blue Mountains")
+a) Cheat (This includes calling Your Cox trip "A Holiday in the Blue Mountains")\\
 or b) Refuse to go on holidays.
-The second choice is obviously preferable and is the more likely for families specialising in Wet Easter Trips,
+The second choice is obviously preferable and is the more likely for families specialising in Wet Easter Trips.
-School Bag Schizophrenia:
-Typically, the parent will have stated that "no child of mine is going to have drooping shoulders, deformed back or a lopsided gait"
-and, in a grand packcarrying prelude, will send. the child, off tO school harnessed to a bodybuilding, healthgiving satchel. This will bring mockery from the entire district ezd.cause the child to either
+School Bag Schizophrenia:\\
-a) lose the satchel, or
+Typically, the parent will have stated that "no child of mine is going to have drooping shoulders, deformed back or a lopsided gait" and, in a grand pack carrying prelude, will send. the child, off to school harnessed to a bodybuilding, health giving satchel. This will bring mockery from the entire district, causing the child to either\\
+a) lose the satchel, or\\
 b) lose his parents.
 If you fail to observe this phenomenon, the only sure solution is to choose a rainy day when your child has left his rain gear at school, and proceed to send, the child off to school, in a CAPE GROUNDSHEET.
 Any child surviving this last treatment is beyond saving and would by psychologically unsuited to anything other than bushwalking anyway.