The idea of a horse ride in Australia came to me back in 1987, when I lived in Rome, Italy. It was a Saturday when a friend shoved a catalogue in front of me that depicted Australia on glossy pages. 'Here, look at this', was her casual remark, 'how would that be on horseback!' By Sunday evening I decided to head for Australia. This continent that not only seemed so far away in distance, but also far away from the dreams I had then.
7th December 1988, Mascot Airport, Sydney. I was here in Australia at last. When I declared my intentions to go on a horse ride 'somewhere' in their country, most of them would reply: 'You, a foreigner, in the Australian bush, to ride alone?' And they spoke of crocodiles and deadly snakes, of the heat, flies, bull ants, cyclones, flash floods.... etc, etc. Others would say: 'Good on you mate, go for it', or, 'Have you heard of R.M. Williams, or "R.M', as he is called, or the BNT, that long horse trail, he founded?'
I hadn't heard of the BNT, but decided to find out.
A month later I was on my way to Toowoomba, Queensland, to meet with the man who many described as 'the most legendary stockman this country has ever known'. Under his care and guidance I soon became an enthusiast of 'the' trail; learnt of his friend and mate, Dan Seymour, the first to ride the entire length of the BNT. Now best of all, with the help of my host, I also had procured a couple of horses for my venture. When I left Toowoomba two weeks later, enriched by new knowledge and excited about my future plans, I felt prepared for my Australian adventure - that of challenging The Bicentennial National Trail!
The Great Dividing Range, a majestic and rugged system of mountains, high plains, valleys and unspoiled bush, is the backbone of Australia's East Coast. It sweeps down from Cooktown, in tropical north Queensland south past Healesville in temperate Victoria. Explorers, settlers and surveyors gradually conquered the ranges after white settlement in 1788. Tracks were carved and the mysterious wilderness of those ridges gradually revealed. Today, the Great Divide has been rediscovered as the perfect venue for those who, through nature, are in search of the spirit of the Australian bush.
The BNT is 5330 kilometres long and follows the old stock routes, pioneer tracks and fire access trails created through the 1800's. It follows the Great Dividing Range parrallel to Australia's east coast and leads through dozens of pretty country towns and quaint villages each with their own story to tell.
The Bicentennial Trail is mostly a remote area trail and is one of the longest marked trails of its kind in the world.
My Companions on this venture:
Toey, Australian stock horse, 15hh, was born and bred in Central Queensland. Always on his toes he was the unpredictable one in our group, bucking and bolting at the most inopportune moments. Having arrived in Widden Valley Toey had to be left behind and was sadly put down due to a brain tumor.
Swaggie, ¾ Arab, 14.2hh. Predictable and loyal, I could always count on him. He was our swagman and in charge of carrying our household. He also doubled-up as my riding horse, taking over from Toey. When Squatter joined us in Queensland as my new riding horse Swaggie once more became our pack animal.
Sparkle, the mule. Words often fail me when describing this lovable creature. He was the most single-minded, mischievous, the least boring and most entertaining of us all. He did his best as a dutiful pack mule, but when halfway up the trail Sparkle went on strike - 'Why trek to Cooktown?' - he was left behind to ponder his fate.
Squatter, a purebred Arab, joined us when Sparkle had had enough. His beauty and intelligence outshone both Swaggie and myself. After a ten-day crash course in horse trekking he was ready for the trail. Swaggie, once more, became swagman. From there to Cooktown it was Squatter, Swaggie and myself trekking happily as mates.
A big send off at Sydney Royal Easter Show 1989
My two horses Toey, Swaggie and I had been given the honour to lead the traditional opening Grand Parade. The bulletin board wishes us 'Good Luck' as did a group of pony club children, standing guard of honour for us.
Starting our journey in Healesville, Victoria
"This plaque marks the southern end of the Bicentennial National Trail, Cooktown, Old. To Healesville, Vic., officially opened by R.M. Williams C.G.M 16th October 1988"
This triangular marker guides the trail user from one end to the other. By pointing up, left or right it is a safe bet one doesn’t stray off the trail. For me this colourful marker became part of “home”, the BNT that is.
Although the BNT was marked from north to south when we rode it in ’89-’91, the corresponding guidebooks, we did our trek in the opposite direction. This meant starting out with the most arduous section of the BNT, the Australian Alps. By doing so we rode right into mountain cattle country, historic gold mining districts, mountain huts and snowgums, not forgetting the breathtaking views that awaited us at the top of every steep ascent.
This plaque is brass-studded lettering on a simple granite marker. I stared at it as though hypnotised on that sunny, Sunday morning, my two horses, Toey and Swaggie, oblivious to the emotions that overwhelmed me. That granite marker in a clearing at the bottom of a ridge - it meant 5330 kilometres of excitement and adventure. It meant living the magic of the Great Dividing Range. It meant experiencing the rugged beauty of The Bicentennial National Trail.
Muddy waters – how tasty after hours of tough mountaineering.
Mirror, mirror on the fence – a first look after 3 days of trekking. Is it really me? Even Toey seems uncertain.
Omeo – nestled peacefully in a picturesque valley. Once considered Australia’s wildest gold mining town.
Acheron Valley, where once there were trees only a sorry sight remains. The old-growth forest having lost their fight for survival.
Crossing into New South Wales
A glimpse of us as we crossed a causeway over one of Australia's best known rivers, the Murray, by doing so we also entered into New South Wales.
A glimpse of us as we crossed the causeway over one of Australia’s best known rivers, the Murray. By doing so we also left the trails of Victoria and continued along in New South Wales
Bill Jones Hut prettily situated on Seventeen Flat, located in the heart of the Snowy Mountains. The BNT does not pass the hut directly; we were met by fellow horse riders to be guided to their beautiful Brindabella Valley.
Sparkle in a hurry to make it to Cooktown – or just having fun trying to be a runaway mule?
Snow in July – Toey taking a break at a sign that indicates “Oberon prison Camp, keep out”. We better get going then.
The Livery Stable, a cave large enough for the two of us. It is an Aboriginal site, the wall displaying their skills in ochre paintings
Widden Valley. A last cuppa Toey and I are able to share. Unbeknown to me my horse been plagued by a brain tumor which would have made his travels unbearable at times.
The bells of Bellbrook, Barrington Tops. Swaggie and Sparkles could almost have past as twins. Some suggested I tried to match my animals for the color…
Dan Seymour, with pipe, was a trailblazer in the truest sense of the word. Sponsored by R.M Williams to find a route along the Great Dividing range he set out in 1972 from Ferntree Gully, Vic and arrived in Cooktown 18 month later.
Dan passed away in 2001 at the age of 78.
Kunderang Gorge with the MacLean River winding through. I daunting prospect to descent into the river flats!
The letter from Dan read Dear Gitta, thank you for your company during your brief stay with me. There is an old saying that we all "march to a different drummer", so being a Wanderer from way back we might have heard the same tune somewhere? I wish you good health and safe trail riding on your journey. Keep in touch. Best wishes, Dan Seymour
Into Queensland - Our last state on the map.
An excerpt of the text that accompanied this map in
The Bicentennial National Trail Guidebook -
..... 'the farmhouse on the western side. Swimming is usually considered safe at Bairds Crossing but first check for yourself that no crocodiles are about. The Trail down the Daintree valley is most picturesque with wild fruits bordering the road through this centre of pioneer timber and diary industry. The river is usually lazy in this lush valley of grazing land backed by rainforest mountains. There is a tremendous variety of birdlife and crocodiles may be seen basking on islands in the river.'
Kilkivan. A new mate for Swaggie and me, Squatter. After a 1-week crash course in horse trekking the intelligent 5 yo gelding excelled in almost every task asked of him.
He replaced Toey who had been left behind due to a brain tumor.
A burnt-out country where small fires were still flickering when we rode through the bush in the valley below.
A quite unsettling 2 hour ride indeed
Fitzroy Crossing - Caution crocodiles! Swaggie and Squatter beware! The three of us camped on the embankment well above and away from the river front.
1st January 1991 and Happy New Year from cyclone Joy. With flash floods in its wake the station owners of ‘Zigzag Station helped me swim my horses across the swollen Running River.
NO words needed
COOKTOWN
Sprawling between the foothills of Mt. Cook and the distant Lookout Range, this small community of a 1000 souls was founded in 1875 during the heyday of the Palmer gold rush, although the site itself was originally discovered by Captain James Cook when he came ashore on the 17th of June 1770 searching for a safe harbour to carry out repairs on his stricken vessel the Endeavour.
Captain James Cook cast-iron statue dominates the surroundings from a high pedestal on the Esplanade overlooking Endeavour River.
Endeavour Bay – Grassy Hill lookout with the Cooktown Lighthouse at the south bank of the Endeavour River. The encompassing views are stunning. They include the river, the township of Cooktown and the mangrove swamps to the north of the river. Grassy Hill was the site of Lieutenant James Cook landing in 1770
Cooktown – Sprawling between the foothills of Mt. Cook and the distant Lookout Ranges this small community of a 1000 souls was founded in 1875 during the heydays of the Palmer gold rush era.
14th of February 1991, Valentine’s Day.
The timing to conclude our ride could not have been more perfect. After 5330 kilometers of horse/mule trekking ‘down under’ and 18 months on the BNT it had become our home and constant companion. We’ll miss living it!
A tribute to history, a cairn bearing a shiny brass plaque that marks the head (or end) of the Bicentennial National Trail
Perhaps the future generation of trail riders?