A little more of the twisting road to go, and we were down on the plains. What a road, what scenes!
Thanks for journeying to the Barrington Tops with me. It really is a lovely place to visit.
It might be a few days until I start posting the next series… Please be patient! In the meantime, hope you have a happy 2011.
At last, we catch a glimpse of the plains beyond.
As with the eastern side of the Tops, the western side was also wonderfully green.
It was however the shifting light that made the scene extra special.
The road down to Scone was narrow and winding – but spectacular.
We drove across the Barrington Tops plateau along a bumpy road, past some more state forests, until we reached the other side. Below were more hills and plains beyond…
I’m back from my holiday! Hope you all had a great Christmas Day.
But back to the Barrington Tops. Today, we come to Thunderbolt’s Lookout proper. As you can see, you can see for miles from up here.
Aside from the view, I was also drawn to the hardy trees, standing and fallen, and the moss and lichen that grow on almost everything.
We’re in the Barrington Tops National Park proper now, making our way to Thunderbolts Lookout.
Captain Thunderbolt (otherwise known as Fred Ward), was a bushranger who roamed the Hunter Valley-New England area in the 1860’s, robbing his way into history until one day he was allegedly killed by the police. Others say that it was his uncle who was killed, and that Fred and his mum made a quick getaway to Canada where he lived till a ripe old age.
I can imagine Fred and his merry gang resting in this quiet, sheltered glen. Can you?
I’ll be away on holidays for a little while, and will finish this series when I return.
Showing you just how brutal nature can be up on the plateau.
Being in a wet area, there were lots of ferns around. But these are quite special ferns since they have adapted to the cool sub-alpine climate.
Their stamen are very delicate-looking, though they must be hardy to withstand the erratic weather of the Tops.
The Manning River flowed not far from the camp site. Usually it’s just a running stream, but with all the rain that’s been around it’s a swollen torrent. I wonder how the river looks in Taree, near the mouth. I wonder how it looks now, when there are dozens of rivers bursting their banks in the region.
Static and Silence 