Christmas Canyons II

The temptation was too great. Despite the prospect of 30 long hours on the highway, we couldn't resist another summer canyoning trip to the Bluies. It lived up to every expectation and once again we left feeling energised, inspired and rejuvenated.

After a hectic few days over Christmas, we left northern NSW on boxing day morning, already running 'late' after forgetting to change our clocks forward from Queensland time. I felt tired and grumpy at the thought of being cooped up in the car all day. It wasn't until we started to wind our way up the mountains that a sense of excitement slowly built up inside. On reaching Katoomba and stepping into the fresh mountain air, I couldn't wipe the grin from my face. Ahhh.... the beautiful Bluies. We were back.

With two lamb roasts and one tray of mangoes, we were soon on our way to Mt Wilson. The campground was bathed in glorious late afternoon sunshine as we chose a peaceful spot to pitch our tents. As the twilight gathered, our friends slowly arrived.

The consensus the next morning was for a quick trip through Yileen canyon. It was unexplored territory for all ten of us. The hillsides were unusually green for mid-summer and awash with a host of gorgeous wildflowers. As soon as we dropped off the walk-in ridge we were met with a lovely meandering creek of sandstone pebbles and sculpted rock walls. There was very little debris cluttering our route, having been flushed out by a recent flood. Moss, ferns and orchids clung to the sides of the canyon, decorating the rock corridor. The water was warmer than I expected, and while everyone else changed into wetsuits I decided I was happy in shorts and a t-shirt.

After a pleasant stroll through this delightful canyon, we descended through a dark slot and were suddenly graced with expansive views of the Grose valley. Sitting on an exposed boulder at the top of the final 60m abseil, we watched as dark thunder clouds rolled in from the east. Getting ten people down a long abseil takes time, and as we waited patiently for each person to descend a cold wind blew in with the storm. We were soon treated to a dramatic show of lighting in the valley beyond. By the time I slid down the rope, spray from the waterfall was blowing in all directions and I was regretting my lack of wetsuit.

Sheltering in a sandstone cave just beyond the base of the waterfall we shivered out of our wet clothes and enjoyed a quiet lunch while watching sheets of water fall outside our rocky refuge. The storm was short-lived, and we quickly worked up a sweat as we climbed back to the car in the warm humid air.

The following day saw us heading out to Newnes Plateau to explore Breakfast Creek canyon. It should have been a short easy walk from the car, but I decided that the track was heading in the wrong direction, so instead we took a scrubby shortcut through the thick prickly undergrowth. My friends weren't very impressed with all the bush-bashing, but somehow we emerged exactly at the top of the first abseil - what a fluke!

The water in this system was colder, and the creek much scrubbier than our previous day's walk. This time I didn't hesitate to wear my wetsuit. I volunteered to go first down the spectacular main drop which disappeared into a dark mossy cleft in the rock. It felt like ages since I'd set up ropes and I fumbled incompetantly at the top trying to untangle and throw down the rope. Eventually sorting it out, I felt the excited buzz of descending into the unknown. It was a lovely abseil, finishing with a second short drop into a dark pool of water.

We followed Breakfast Creek to its junction with Rocky Creek, then slowly made our way upstream. We passed two separate groups of canyoners who had come through Rocky Creek and were looking for the exit track. It was rather disturbing to realise they had no idea where they were and had unknowingly passed their intended exit several hundred metres further upstream. We tried to convince them to turn around, as it was looking like a long wet night for them otherwise. There aren't many possible exit gullies in that part of the gorge.

On reaching the obvious big bend in the river which marks the exit route, we drew arrows in the sand and hoped the other groups would make it out safely. Instead of taking the quick exit ourselves, we decided to continue through the magificent upper section of Rocky Creek. On entering the canyon proper, we were greeted with a huge cathedral-like chamber, where the sun filtered through in a few narrow shafts of light. I floated backwards on my pack, gliding gently through the spectacular darkness.

With lots of rain this summer water levels were high and the waterfalls were absolutely pumping. We were lucky in that a guided group coming down the canyon had fixed lots of handlines which we used to climb around the pounding sections of whitewater. There was a great slab, perfect for sliding into the pool below. Most of us went down feet first, but action-man Devin insisted (despite cautions about submerged rocks) on going down face first, thankfully without incident. All that remained was a short climb back to the cars and another delicious roast for dinner.


Day three started with a lot of stuffing around and indecision. Finally we decided on a easy trip through Du Faur canyon. What a beautiful sunny day! Absolutely perfect canyon weather. We lazed in the water and admired droplets of water splashing down the cliff face and exploding in a burst of watery sunlight. Looking up at the sky I could almost imagine it was snowing. The sandstone walls were bathed in a rosy glow of pinks and oranges and delicate greenery created beautiful fairy bowers. We stopped for an early lunch on a sandy bank beside a great swimming hole, before continuing to wander, splash and li-lo our way downstream. An early exit up Joe's canyon was a beautiful way to end a gorgeous day in the mountains.


There was talk around the campfire that night of an early dash through Claustral in the morning. I've been wanting to check out Claustral ever since I started canyoning about 10 years ago. Unfortunately the practicalities of getting back to Sydney, Canberra and Wollongong intervened, so it will have to keep its mysteries for another year.