Six Foot Ramblings

SIX FOOT RAMBLINGS

This is less a race report, than a rambling series of recollections and musings about my participation in the 2013 Six Foot Track Marathon.

It sort of starts with a reborn love of bushwalking after moving to the local area in about 2001.  When we moved to Mt Colah I went for a 6 km bike ride from home to Hornsby Heights and it nearly killed me. I resolved to exercise more - but of course didn't.  I walked to work and back most days (about km each way), but several years later I couldn't believe I was surrounded by all this incredible bushland, but had never been for a bushwalk the whole time.  I lucked upon a couple of walking books in some second hand shops, and finally began doing walks in Kuringai NP and Berowra.  I was soon doing incredible distances - sometimes as much as 10km !! OMG !!

On one of these walks with a friend, from Bobbin Head along the Sphinx Track, a gentleman came huffing and puffing past us up the hill, wearing some silly Six Foot Track 45km Marathon shirt.  As he disappeared, all red and sweaty into the distance, I wondered what kind of an idiot would want to do that ?  I was familiar with the name "Six Foot Track", but had no idea of where or what it was.  Diving into my bushwalking books, I read about it - and it sounded like way too much hard work to walk, let alone run.  The book said it was a three day walk - surely only a fool would run that far in a day. 

Then 12 March 2005, I read an article in the Sydney Morning Herald about walking the track.  I read it several times, and for some reason had to cut it out and keep it.  I still have it, I still read it.  A wonderful piece, and it got me very interested.  Six Foot somehow moved onto my "walks to do" list.

Fast forward to a day when I linked up several of my shorter walks, and walked 30+ km from Mt Colah to Brooklyn.  I was absolutely knackered, but it gave me "that feeling", and I wanted to do more longer walks.  Suddenly after that, several things "clicked" . Firstly, I had reached a point like so many 40 year olds, where my diet and weight were slowly heading in the wrong direction. Secondly, like so many, I read "Born to Run" and was totally inspired by the concept of covering long distances on trails.  I was knocked out by the idea these incredible athletes did so much walking.  WALKING ?!? I can do that!!  I'm an ace at walking. It was the running that was a challenge.  I have bad knees, doncha know !!  However, all the recent years of walking paid off as I starting running slowly.  I discovered the knees were actually holding up (sort of).  Finally, like so many, I became keen to complete a marathon.  I ran that first marathon (Gold Coast) in July 2012.  It nearly killed me, and I couldn't walk properly for months, so of course I had to run another !!  When a longer event in November 2012 didn't quite go to plan, I was all trained up, but nowhere to go - and Six Foot was suddenly on the radar. 

I had a deal of mental confusion before entering.  It is one thing to do a marathon once just to see if you can.  I discovered a certain reticence about doing another. I considered myself "a walker" in some crazy purist way.  Did this mean I was now becoming one of those idiots who run all the time.Why the hell, after nearly killing myself doing it once, would I even consider doing another ?  I have put a lot of time and thought into this and still have no great answer.  Something to do with a fascination with, and love of, effort and endurance.

I am by nature somewhat carefree, but in certain areas of my life I am exceedingly particular.  Before heading out on a walk, I obsessively need to know everything detail I can find about it, and Six Foot was no exception.  I searched websites, online forums, books, looked at maps - anything to do with Six Foot.  I hadn't even fully committed to entering, but felt I couldn't until I had an idea about the course.  Some comments online made it sound terrifyingly hard and extremely difficult to follow.  Which as it turns out, it isn't. 

Eventually I decided to actually go and have a look.  Well more than a look.  I had read online about doing a "Twelve Foot Track" run from the start to the finish and back.  45km there, then 45km back. 90km.  Way too much for me in one go -  but starting at The Explorers Tree, walking to Jenolan, staying the night at Caves House, and returning next day was an option I thought I could do. And I did.  Of course the first day to Jenolan had to be a 30 degree plus scorcher of a day.  My main error was assuming water was at the top of the never ending series of hills up from the Cox's River - oops.  Only wrong by a very hot and thirsty 10km. The return next day was a chore in places, but after 90km in two days, I was pretty familiar with the course by now - and let me say, that after all the online waffle I had read, it was one of the easiest, well marked tracks I had ever walked upon. 

I had also arranged to walk it with friends.  This time just once, over two days.  Much easier.  Except of course the first day was THAT DAY in January 2013 which was the hottest day in Sydney's history - 45+ degrees !!  When we reached the Cox's River we stripped off and dove in - and discovered it was full of big thick 8cm leeches with a fascination for human flesh. Awesome.  After plucking off leeches, we headed for the 6 Ft Track Lodge where we drank red wine that was so hot it fizzed when we opened it, and all the alcohol had probably evaporated.   My feet had swelled so much in the heat that my toes were crushed in my trusty Dunlop Volleys, and the final 30km next day was agonising.  I did, however, consider myself ready for the Marathon - if I got in.  Anyone who has entered Six Foot knows the kerfuffle about getting an entry.  But I breezed in first try.  Beginners luck I guess.

Before the race I stayed at The Flying Fox Hostel in Katoomba.  A magical place. The best hostel that $28 can buy !!  I had never stayed in a hostel before, and it was all part of the learning curve and the fun.  I sat around playing a guitar, reading, and chatting to a crazy old bloke who was also running next day (and will probably be me in another 20 years).  Then off to bed to climb over bodies and packs in the dark and hope no one was in my bunk already.

The next morning, as I quietly got out of bed in the dark, I thought I was the only one awake. I silently crept to the kitchen, where I discovered about 50 mad runners engaging in the arcane runners rites of mixing powders, filling bottles, sculling coffee, sucking gels, chomping energy bars - all kinds of weird pre dawn runners stuff. 

The run itself was fabulous.  An online Six Foot race time predictor suggested that my time would be 5 1/2 hours which I knew was rubbish - but under 6 hours would suit me fine.  5:48 later I was done and dusted.  There was SO much aid out on the course it was ridiculous.  I gained about 2 kg eating bananas and watermelon, with water and tables of assorted goodies every few km.  It is a fund raiser for the Rural Fire Service, who also man the aid stations - and they were brilliant.  One memorable aid station was playing "dress ups" - you haven't lived until you have been chased down a fire trail by a big hairy Goldilocks screaming "drink my water".

Speaking of water, I hated the idea of getting my shoes wet.  On previous trips, it had been no trouble to raise my skirts and rock hop like a fairy princess across the Cox and various streams along the way.  However, big rains prior to race day changed all this.  Upon arrival at the Cox I was greeted with chest high water and a huge rope to cling to - and every previously small stream from my last walks were now knee deep.  My shoes got wet. 

The walks had also introduced me to last few rocky and unstable km down to Caves House.  After running over 40km I still felt OK, but this stretch was agonisingly quadbusting.  Finally, the only hurdle to clear was making sure I ran the right direction to the finish line.  Of course I went the wrong way and started off on my own little trip to Oberon, but Michael Sims was on hand to yell from the crowd "other way Rob" , and pointed me down the hill to where the enormous and totally unmissable finish line and huge clock was in full view.  Thanks Mike.

Finishing Six Foot was the end of a certain chapter in my life.  A tying up of loose ends.  I am probably one of those fools who runs everywhere now.  Which dovetails neatly into also being one of those idiots who walks everywhere.  Oh well.  Life is too short.  Bring on the next adventure.

Katoomba - Narrowneck - Dunphy's - Megalong Valley - Nellie's Glen

Nothing starts a walk better than a long train trip interrupted by trackwork and buses, ensuring that you start late in the hottest part of a summer day.  So at 12.00 (not 10.30 as planned) I was finally at the beginning of Narrowneck, covered in flies and deafened by cicadas. 

Looking along the winding Narrowneck track with views over the Megalong Valley and 6 Ft Track

the track along Narrowneck

Narrowneck is very easy to walk along, which means you have plenty of time to stop and take in all the views.  On the east you have the Jamison Valley with Mt Solitary and the the Three Sisters, and on the west you have endless views over the Megalong Valley, 6 Ft Track, and over to Jenolan.  Then you finish with views to Kanangra Walls, Lake Burragorang, and all the way down Mittagong way.

Jamison Valley

The walk goes through lots of interesting terrain, and twists and turns, and climbs and drops consistently. I imagine the original track would have been a windy little thing before the road was put in.

 

By the time I had travelled about halfway along Narrowneck I was a bit mad from the flies.  I had to settle for allowing a few to simply remain on my face and blow the ones on my lips away.  Usually a nice breeze keeps them away, but not even today's hurricane winds blew them off. So I just wandered along spitting out flies.

Eventually you approach Clear Hill at the end of Narrowneck, and the views seem to go on forever.  Mittagong, Kanangra Tops, Yerranderie, Lake Burragorang, Wild Dog mountains.  Breathtaking.

Lake Burragorang in the misty distance

At the end of Narrowneck, the fun begins.  By now the legs were a bit like jelly, just right for squeezing through narrow gaps and scrambling around rocks.  There is a cool metal ladder to climb, and I would have preferred to go down facing the steps, but I couldn't turn around with my pack on.  At least there are plenty of hand holds.

Then comes the highlight of the walk along Narrowneck.  I had spent years reading about Taros Ladders, with absolutely no idea what they were.  The first time I came along Narrowneck I had thought they were my little friends pictured above.  Then I came to a sheer drop, with no clue as to where to go.  Was I lost ? (not that uncommon for me).  As I scouted around I saw a metal spike and thought "you're kidding me".  I had found the "ladders".  I should count myself lucky though.  I have since seen photos of years gone by, with walkers descending via rope, and also no rope at all.  I will settle for the metal spikes.  

looking down Taros Ladder

looking up the ladder

Taros Ladder is a bunch of iron spikes and steps in the rock, clearly designed for tall people, not hobbits like me.  I find them terrifying as I have to hold on with my arm, supporting my body (and pack) weight with just my arms, and scrabble and stretch to place my feet.  However, there is no other way down.  

However, before the walk started I had had felt a niggle in my left calf, but this had loosened nicely after a long hot walk.  Halfway down the ladder, though, at full stretch and no way I could stop, I felt a lovely burning "twang".  Not good.  

After the ladder, its down to the power lines, time for a nice limp over Mt Debert, and on to Medlow Gap.  Why they don't put a nice rainwater tank here is a mystery.  It is in the middle of all kinds of trips and walks, and in particular, at the end of a long blazing hot summer trek along Narrowneck.  About when your water is running out.  As was happening to me.  I know it's a helicopter landing area, but I really didn't feel comfortable activating my PLB for an emergency helicopter delivered water drop.  There is a shallow, weed infested water hole filled with brown sludge, but a terrible death by dysentery is not high on my list of things to do, so time to push on to a small creek about 2km along the track to Dunphy's campsite.  

Medlow Gap with Mt Mouin in the background

Of course last time, several months ago in spring, after recent rains, my beautiful creek was a free flowing water supply.  This time it looked a bit dodgy, with lots of floaty bits and tadpoles.  However, it is still a small miracle that after minimal rain, after the hottest driest spring in recorded history, in the hottest driest year in recorded history, it was still there at all.  So covering my bottle opening to get under all the floaties on the surface, I braved about half a litre, and filled up for the last bit of the days walk.

Since starting so late I had kept up the pace, so now it was a pleasant few km of easy evening limping in the cool to Dunphy's Camp.  At this time of the year I was expecting some human company, but arrived to find the place deserted. However, I was soon joined by several mobs of kangaroos, so I did have company of sorts.

approaching Dunphy's Campsite

Dunphy's Campsite

Upon arrival at Dunphy's I downed a half litre of warm water from the water tank, before stripping off and washing off a long 30km days sweat.  It was still over 30 degrees so I was dry immediately.  Then I mixed up a litre of powdered milk and MILO and downed that warm milky goodness too.  Then I drank some more water.  Then I had another wash and tipped more water over my head.  It was at this point I noticed that the tank water also contained some wiggly mosquito goodness.  Guess I'm not such a good vegetarian after all, and I may still possibly die a horrible death by dysentery.

life is good

 As the sun went down, I cooked up my noodles, instant mash, dried peas extravaganza, devoured the lot, and settled into a bit of Ian Fleming as the sun went down.  Last time I walked out here my trusty Dunlop Volleys had disintegrated leaving me with 50c sized blisters all over my feet and lots of walking the next day.  This time I was wearing my expensive runners, and  tonight I had no blisters. After cooling a little, It was now blazing hot again, so I continued tipping water and larvae over my head to cool off.  It got dark, the stars were brilliant, and I sat watching satellites go by overhead.  Life was good.

The next day it was on down through the Megalong Valley.  A nice stroll through Packsaddlers and a pleasant chat with some horses and chickens.  Not a person anywhere though. 

PACKSADDLERS -These owners allow public access through their property, so I left a generous donation for them in the small box provided.

 Soon after Packsaddlers, there was a warning sign.  Thank goodness, because soon after.........

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cows

Okay, it sounds a little weird, but cows freak me out.  Horses are bigger, but they just ignore you.  If horses do look at you, it is brief, with a bland indifference, before returning to their gentle munching.  Cows, however, just stare.  They never take their eyes off you.  The entire herd with silently gaze at you with eveil eyes as you pass by.  Without blinking.  And some have big sharp horns on top of their evil eyed heads.   

Scary cows aside, the words "pleasant wander" apply to the Megalong Valley.  Lots of little gullies, creeks, shady trees, views over mountains and valleys, ups and downs, twists and turns, horses, more cows, farms, guest houses.  Occasional cars.  Even a Santa in a mail box.

Santa was here

Looking along Narrowneck from Megalong Valley Rod

 After a long 8km wander along Megalong Valley Road, and some playing around with my camera's "panorama" setting, it was time for a bit of 6 Ft Track and the home stretch.

6 Foot Track

Of course, as I walked along there had to be more cows.  This time a curious little fellow wanted to come and say "hi", with all his big beady eyed friends staring at me.  He seemed to want me to pat him, but that was never going to happen.  I put my eyes down and walked on nervously, waiting for the sounds of bellows and thundering hooves.

   

More cows !!  These long horns guys were definite freak shows.  When they saw me, they closed ranks.  Then slowly began walking towards me.......before running around in big circles like, well...crazy cows.  Then they would stop, slowly close ranks, walk towards me...then run around crazy again. Thank goodness for the fence. Obviously Mad Cow Disease.  I stood watching them for a while, before worrying they would run themselves to death.  They followed me until the fence line.  I suspect they would have followed me to Katoomba and cried when my train departed, before running around in circles trampling commuters to death in their sorrow.

Mad Cows

 The climb up Nellie's Glen is a long one, but it was still early (and cool) and I had fresh legs and plenty of time.  Last time it was blazing hot, my feet were covered in blisters, and I was a shattered man trying to make a train.

Nellie's Glen

 

Nellie's Glen

Walking up Nellie's Glen, I bumped into lots of runners out training.  One guy passed me several times, and still had enough energy for a quick word each time, which was quite impressive.  I also had a nice chat with some wonderful guy doing some repair work on the stairs.  I must admit I was a little jealous of his career choice.  What a great office.

  

looking from top of Nellie's Glen, along Narrowneck down to the Megalong Valley.

Then a short walk from the end of the trail, along the top of Bonnie Doon Falls, to emerge back into civilization, and a safe end to another adventure.  By now the day was cooking hot, the roads were blasting back heat, and I regretted my short cut past the pool.  I made my way to the station, bought my ticket, and waited for the cool bliss of air conditioned rail comfort to arrive.  Hoping all the while not to hear the sound of murderous bovine hooves.