As adventures go this one seemed doable. In video production, my former hobby before becoming a yachtsman, we used to call it a 101: Loving couple enters elevator, they embrace, doors close, music up, fade to black, and credits roll. Easy peasy.
Life is good here in Bantry Bay. We’ve even learned what all those strange numbered rustic buildings lining the western shore are…or were. Explosives storage. Normally I feel drawn to do just what signs like NO ADMITTANCE ON LAND say not to do, but knowing the Aussie love for mischief I could just see some bloke snickering about how surprised somebody someday is going to be when they step on the exact spot where he buried this little hand grenade. It dampened my own enthusiasm for pushing my luck.
So, where were we? Oh yes the adventure of the day. Well, it’s a 101 with a twist. M, our crack activity director found a few trails that wind around through hill and dale ending at something called The Natural Bridge. I’m thinking Utah! Yeah, I’m up for that but it’ll be a stretch so we’ll have to see how tough the trail is and there’s always the option to stop at the mountaintop viewpoint. As if!
First thing in the morning, before it gets too hot, we tie up Catnip to the park dock and immediately run into a couple of older gents that are hiking the upper trail. Turns out it’s 440 steps to the upper trail. As luck would have it the Bay Trail bifurcates just before the stairs get serious. Ah, this is more like it. A well-prepared path with gentle undulations, reminiscent of a New Zealand park trail. Ya see that’s how they suck you in, just like the frog in the water pot.
Before long you’re climbing rocks, reaching for anything to keep from tumbling down a precipice and sweating like Nixon at a debate! Do you have any water left? Maybe we can call it a day at the mountaintop buena vista view del mar. Are you sure you don’t have any water left? I mean the Natural Bridge was always intended as a kind of bonus goal if things were easy.
The viewpoints on the way were really spectacular and finally we arrived at the top of the mountain on a huge domed rock with hollowed out sandstone features. Other worldly. They like their rocks large and strange down here in the land of OZ. We could see downtown Sydney off in the hazy distance.
It was still a bit of a hike to the Natural Bridge on a trail called the Engraved Trail which is supposed to have Aboriginal Art carved in stone but it seems they would prefer to keep it to themselves.
Of course Marce had to curb my curiosity by grabbing my tee shirt as I headed over the fence. Real Stone Age Art meters from where I stood. What kind of a person doesn’t want to see that? It soon became obvious why this area was sacred to the aboriginal. Large strange rocks. Large strange rock formations. Not a large pile of rocks but the whole damn mountain top was as near as I could tell, one huge rock.
The path down to the bridge was steep and torturous and really a bridge too far. I suppose it didn’t help that as we reached the bottom of the ravine I noticed that a stream passed under the trail and I must be standing on The Natural Bridge. It was a Spinal Tap moment. When Nigel, not good with figures, confuses inches for feet and a tiny Stonehenge trilithon descends to the stage. Let’s just say it loses impact, even though it’s beautiful. Rocks big, bridges small.