Just because a track is popular doesn’t mean you shouldn’t tackle it for fear of crowds; in fact, there is probably a very good reason why it’s popular. The Grand Canyon track in Blue Mountains National Park falls into this very category. The reason for its popularity is evident immediately after commencing this trail. Sandstone walls carpeted with mosses, sprawling native flora, a handful of creek crossings and countless waterfalls. All of these elements combined serve to remove you from the urban rat-race for a few hours, and throw you into the untouched heart of this World-Heritage Listed site.
Getting There:
Access to the Grand Canyon Track is simple and the Grand Canyon Carpark can simply be plugged into your GPS. The road is well maintained, sealed, and accessible by all vehicles.
The trail is accessible from the eastern end of the carpark. It really doesn’t matter when you park, as the trail is a loop finishing on Evans Lookout Road, and the closer you are to the entrance of the trail, the further you’ll be upon return.
Keep in mind the trail can be incredibly busy. I recommend tackling this trail in the rain as we did. The precipitation will likely keep the weekend warriors at bay (we only came across a handful of other groups the entire time), and will see the creeks and waterfalls in their full-flowing glory.
The Hike
The 6.5km loop is rated as a ‘moderate’ walk, requiring a certain degree of fitness. Having completed it, I can certainly attest to this. There are a larger number of stairs for the 287m descent in elevation into the canyon, and of course, what goes down must come back up. The trail could readily be completed by those with below-average fitness with frequent breaks, however would not be suitable for individuals with reduced mobility.
We completed the track in the clockwise direction, which effectively starts off at Evan’s Lookout. The escarpments were blanketed with a thick layer of fog, and visibility was at most 30 metres.
There is something alien about the stillness that comes hand-in-hand with fog in such terrain; the silence fashions an extra-terrestrial ambience which is more introspective than serene.
The trail then narrows to stairs carved out of the rock itself, flanked by arresting sandstone walls. It’s here that the seemingly endless stairway of descent begins, and as it continues, you will see a gradual change in the landscape.
Low light areas in the valley shielded from regular insolence and fed by surface waters result in the dense undergrowth of ferns, their roots sharing crevices in the rock with the mosses that cover them.
One prevalent thought I had the entire way down was “who’s going to climb all this back up again?”. Ira sheepishly asked me whether my legs were also getting shaky in the final leg of the descent, and I reassured her that they certainly were.
The descent (finally) lends itself to the first of many creek crossings. The creeks are bedded with washed river cobbles, and I was tempted more than once to cup the crystal-clear waters to my mouth for a drink. However as good as the water may look, it’s best to never drink any water without treatment; you may have to simply settle for wetting the back of your neck with it.
The trail follows the canyon floor, crossing the tributaries of Greaves Creek a number of times. Take care when crossing the creeks; whilst they have well-formed stepping stones, chances are your gaze and attention will be elsewhere, likely looking up at the jaw-dropping scenery around you.
A highlight of this walk were the small red crayfish in the mountain streams and pools. Their bright colour gives them away, contrasting strongly against the browns of the cobbled stream-beds. I subsequently looked up this species, known as the Sydney Crayfish. I was sad to learn that their populations are under duress even in such remote locations, mostly from illegal harvesting and insecticides.
Over the counter poisons used to treat lawns for ants inevitably end up getting washed away by rain and accumulating through the catchments in such tributaries, and a poison designed to kill one invertebrate tends to kill them all.
The ascent from the canyon starts abruptly, and we reluctantly left the magical canyon floor. The ascent then follows a narrow rock ledge with a sheer drop into the canyon below. The balustrades and fall protection will put your mind at ease in the event of a misstep. You’ll also have to duck to avoid the cantilevered sandstone mass above your head in sections of this ledge. The ledge ultimately ends up in a short pedestrian tunnel carved out of the rock, presumably because a safe ledge path was deemed impossible.
The final leg of the trail sees the majority of the ascent which will see both you and your heart-rate climb quickly. You would swear the stairs were an endless escalator were they not carved from rock. Water always finds the path of least resistance, and the rain resulted in mini-steams cascading down the carved stairs under our feet, akin to walking up a waterfall, and not an experience, or a trail I’ll be forgetting anytime soon.
