Day 17: 17km, The Last Day

It has been so difficult to write about this last day; it feels like The Big Hike needs an appropriately exciting ending. But alas, that last day was a strange mishmash of emotions, and was pathetically anticlimactic. So in the interests of moving this damn blog along to catch up with my life (so much has happened since July!!), I'm forcing myself to get this all out as best I can.

Upon waking up on The Last Day, we packed as quick as we could and set off, hoping hoping hoping that Englishman was okay and that we'd find him soon. THREE KILOMETERS (an hour of walking) and a train track crossing down the track we found him, in the actual river bed (not our crappy dry-creek road). He had, as suspected, charged right past the place we'd stopped, as he figured (correctly) it was too small to be the river bed. I was both relieved he was safe and vaguely annoyed with him (and myself) for having worried all night long.

The last bit of walking was arduous for me. My feet hurt. I was exhausted. I was soooo close to a shower and a lie-down, but not there yet. Still not there yet. WHY ARE WE NOT THERE YET. Poor D did a wonderful job of getting me through those weirdly difficult last hours by doing things like leaving candies and nuts on posts next to the trail, so that every few meters I'd get a little treat to keep me going. He was still stupidly energetic and also sad that the hike was almost over. I felt crappier for being so crotchety while he was having the time of his life, and kept saying that he didn't want it to end. Sigh. Maybe next time I'll be less of a wet blanket.

At the official end of the trial, everyone wanted to take lots of congratulatory pictures. I think they really speak for themselves.

HOWEVER, I managed to perk up a bit for the last ~kms into town. We stopped and rested at the Telegraph Station, where a nice nap on the grass did a lot for me. I showered whilst D went out (still dirty) to pick up some snacks, and we both really enjoyed those activities. I felt like a new (still tender-footed) person, and our evening reunion with our hiking mates was wonderful.

First, we went to GrownUpFriend's room to discover that The Colonel and SuperAussie had left us a present - a bottle of bubbly, and fancy lotion and soap for us girls!! SO AWESOME.

The champagne paired very well with the watermelon D got everyone as a post-hike treat.

And then we went out to the pub and ate steaks and burgers and drank several delicious beers or ciders until we were buzzing, went back and watch the world cup in our hotel room,  to finally sleep fitfully on mattresses (but we enjoyed the clean sheets).

THE END

p.s. We flew back to Sydney the next day, sharing a flight with Englishman. The Sydney airport was pretty overwhelming; D and I just kept staring and saying "so many people..." We actually ended up just standing still until the rush died down, when it was easier to think. Then I avoided walking for the next few weeks, as my ankles and knees STILL freaking hurt, and I felt like an old lady taking the stairs sideways. But eventually it all healed up and probably I'm stronger now? Hopefully.

Day 14: Being Flexible with Plans

Despite having felt pretty good during the previous days' walks, on Day 14 my foot began aching only 4kms into the hike, which felt like we hadn't even left camp yet. Annoying, but we had technically planned to only walk 10km more to Mugla Camp.

Orange break amongst wildflowers on the way.

However, by the time D and I pulled up to Mulga Camp in the mid afternoon, Englishman, GUF, and Rugby had finished lunch and were raring to push on to the next camp at Simpsons Gap, which would mean a total of 24km walk for the day (and a pretty late arrival to camp at best). As I sat exhausted by pain on a (surprising and convenient) picnic table bench, it was clear I couldn't manage that. So once again we decided to split up; the energetic oldies would race to Simpsons Gap, then spend the whole next day resting there, whilst D and I split the walk over two days, and we'd all sleep together the following night at Simpsons Gap. Thank goodness we had the ability to split up like this, because it was really helpful for my painful feet.

So off the other three went, while D and I relaxed and scoped out Mulga Camp, which had two smallish water tanks, two rather battered picnic tables, a drop toilet, no specific shelter, and approximately 76 trillion flies.

Not 15 minutes into our quiet lunch, I asked D, very puzzled, "Do... do you hear a truck??" AND SUDDENLY UP RATTLES A TRUCK out of nowhere, seriously where did they come from, and out leap two brawny blokes who start chatting whilst dismantling the campsite around us holy crap. They're like, "You weren't planning on staying the night here, were you?" Welp, not anymore.

I had almost forgotten what trucks were like.

Dude started up a generator in the back of the truck to run a power saw to saw off the bolts holding the picnic table together. Amazing.

So, after filling up all our water bottles and still feeling rather disoriented, off we walked to find a different place to camp. Our trail book indicated a campsite only a few kms farther along the trail called Arrenge View. We found a dilapidated signpost with this name on the side of a hill, with no flat space in sight (but, indeed, a mighty find view of Arrenge Bluff). We trudged on for what felt like forever, with my feet hurting more and more and more, until we realized we must have passed whatever used to be the Arrenge View campsite (because there definitely wasn't a campsite along the way now). I was exhausted and bitchy with pain, but D decided that we had to turn around and go back to the creekbed we'd passed to camp in the soft sand. Was he seriously telling me I had to retrace my (incredibly painful) steps? D very carefully cajoled me back down the track and he deserves a medal for being so nice to me.

I am finally sitting down, hence the strained smile. Also, there are about 50 million flies here too.

Checking out Arrenge rock from our creekbed campsite.

View of Arrenge rock, with D's slippered feet propped up after a long day of taking care of me.

To be continued....

Day 11: The Spoon from God

First, I almost forgot to tell you one of the most awesome bits of the hike!

Up at Brinkley Bluff, once we finished taking pictures, Englishman -as usual- took off and quickly outpaced us. GrownUpFriend, however, said he wanted to finish writing something in the log book, and that we should go on without him. Since I was always easily outpaced by GrownUpFriend (and D was basically required to stick with me), this sounded fine.

About half an hour later though, after D and I happily bounced along the trail and made great time, we realized suddenly that it'd been a while since we'd left GrownUpFriend; we had rather expected him to catch up to us quickly with his longer stride. We were very reluctant to go backwards along the trail (and by that I mean, no fucking way was I going to triple my steps when every step hurt), so we sat and waited. And waited. And FINALLY, we spot GrownUpFriend in the distance, and he comes trundling up. It turns out he had stayed at the top of Brinkley Bluff to compose a poem for the logbook. D'awwwww.

JUST THEN, it was like a ray of sunshine descended from the heavens and lit up a patch of spinifex next to where D had been sitting for the last half hour, and I spotted it:

I shouted to D "THERE ON YOUR LEFT" (which, in retrospect, isn't exactly advisable in snake country on the side of a cliff), and behold, the spoon was ours.



Now, you might be wondering why I got so damn excited about a spoon, but let me tell you, this is the perfect spoon:

·         It's made of titanium, so it won't break in normal use (remember, we'd already broken all the airplane plastic cutlery I packed).

·         It's got a super long handle, so we can reach food cooked in plastic bags without getting our hands covered in sauce (important when you've got madras lentils and not much water to spare).

·         It's made of titanium, so it's super duper lightweight (we literally weighed every gram we put in our bags for this trip).

·         It came when we needed it most (see above re: previous rampant spoon destruction). 

·         It was FREE yaaaaaaaaaaay.

 

 We considered the spoon a reward for being safe hikers and waiting for GrownUpFriend to make sure he hadn't fallen off the cliff (because we wouldn't have found the spoon if we hadn't waited and looked back down the trail).

Day 9: ~13km, Owie ow ow ffffffff, then cheating/success

I woke up sore, so D and I got ready very efficiently (despite having to pick goatheads, aka "bindies" out of EVERYTHING) and go on the trail before Englishman and GrownUpFriend. However, they caught up and my ankles and knees began to hurt within maybe 1km. Going downhill is the worst; my knees just don't want to do it. So I have to side step down, but I must remember to change sides frequently, or muscles in my thighs start to cramp up. 

 

Welcome to New Mexico. There, I said it.

Teeeheeheeheehee. (we didn't make it, just found it on the trail)

 After about 9kms, I was in a fair amount of pain, but I doggedly continued on. We hardly rested, as I didn't want to fall too far behind the others. As you may have noticed, most of our landscape photos feature my back; this is because D had the camera (bigger pants pockets) and he had to walk behind me otherwise he'd accidentally leave me in the dust. At about the 10km mark, we get a call on the walky-talky from GrownUpFriend and Englishman. They were at the next campsite, Hugh Gorge, and they were eager to once again move on, after they ate lunch.

 It's at this point that I kind of lost it. It's already past 1pm, I'm in increasing pain, the others are more than an hour ahead of us, and I've lost my optimism. I figure the only thing I can do is keep walking, as fast as possible, without stopping. This is not particularly ideal, as my ankles and then feet just keep on aching more and more, and we hadn't eaten lunch yet, so I was running out of calories too. The last 3km to reach Hugh Gorge I spent muttering angrily to myself and/or crying at how much everything hurt, and D miserably trailed behind, unable to convince me to stop and rest.

 Hiking Lesson: Remember to medicate yourself with food and pain killers.

 When we finally made it to GrownUpFriend and Englishman, I was too exhausted to even talk; I just had to sit and focus on putting things into my mouth (tortillas, then ibuprofen, then water, then more food, then more water). GrownUpFriend and Englishman wanted to walk another 4kms, up the frigging mounting to the next campsite, because it was supposed to be pretty or some shit like that. Meanwhile, D was silently worrying that I was so injured I'd need to quit the track. I, however, was in too stubborn a mood to consider that an option yet, but it's clear I'm in pain and grumpy. So D goes and studies the map on the trail sign:

The next section of the trail. See that topography? See "Razorback Ridge"? Ffffffffffffffffffffffuck that.

 Whilst we were sitting, mulling things over, a group of hikers came down the mountain, and a van pulled up out of nowhere. D goes and chats with them, and finds out they were getting a pre-arranged lift back towards civilisation, with the same company we'd paid to take us to Mt Sonder, and even the same driver guy who'd picked up the Colonel and SuperAussie a few days earlier. D comes back to me, and asks "Want to catch a ride with them? They can take us to the next campsite, Birthday Waterhole." 

 It's perfect: the van has exactly two spots left; the 4WD trail goes right past Birthday Waterhole, so it won't even be out of the way for the van; GrownUpFriend and Englishman can walk the next section and meet us at Birthday Waterhole; and best of all, I don't really have to walk anymore. Hallelujah, it was a miracle. 

 Next thing I know, we're in the van, bouncing down the track, and listening to the happy chatter of the group of international students (and giggling at the American guy who sounded very, very American, in a nice way). 

I am OVER THE MOON that I'm not walking.

And then suddenly, we're at Birthday Waterhole. (Ok, so I had to walk a leeeetle bit more to get there, but it was nothing compared to earlier.) 

Birthday Waterhole: an early half-birthday present to me!

The wind kept blowing from all directions, so we tried to hide our tent behind a rock to shelter a bit.

It was a bit surreal to suddenly be without our hiking companions, and to have skipped a section of the trail. We met some guys who said we'd "missed the best part of the trail" but fuck that noise. I got to rest and barely move for 24 hours, D got to go exploring and have a freezing cold bath in the waterhole, and best of all, we got to finish walking the trail. 

So thanks, random internationals from a uni in Melbourne, for organizing a pick up at that exact time and place so we could meet you and bum a ride. You guys are awesome.

More to come...

Day 8: 16kms, The Big Flat and the worst campsite

We had originally scheduled a rest day for Day 8, to laze around Ellery Creek and prepare ourselves to walk 25km the following day. However, in light of the pain I'd had the previous two days, and because GrownUpFriend realized we might be able to make it to our next drop box a day early (more on that later), we decided to split the big 25km-day into two shorter days. 

Within minutes of starting to walk, GrownUpFriend and Englishman had disappeared into the distance, so D and I spent the rest of the day walking by ourselves. The Englishman had thoughtfully brought walky-talkies, which proved extremely useful for this part of the trip. We began the day by ascending to a saddle in the mountain range, where we could pass over to the north side of the Heavitree Range we'd been meandering over since Mt Sonder. 
 

Top of the saddle, the Chewings Range in the distance.

 The trail left the Heavitree Range and led us north towards the Chewings Range, across what we called The Big Flat between the two ranges. Coming down from this saddle felt like the bit in Lord of the Rings where Sam and Frodo look down into the plains of Mordor and can see the armies camped there for miles, with the volcano far in the distance.
 

Weird flowers before descending into Mordor.

 The Big Flat was possibly one of our favorite parts of the trip, even though we'd heard others complain it was boring. There were so many things to see! There were about 78 million grasshoppers, so D taught me the German and Swiss words for grasshopper, so then we practiced German for a while. There were EVEN MORE butterflies, oh gosh, das smetterlings at every turn, in every colour you can imagine! 

There were heaps of strange flowers, and interesting pointy plants. The trail was relatively gentle, we crossed many dry creek beds and went over lots of little tiny hills, and the sky was huge and super blue above us. Best of all, there were wild budgies/parakeets! So much birdsong in the air, and superfast dashes of colour across the sky. 

One of the numerous creeks. There were tadpoles in the water in the corner of the photo!

Welcome to New Mex- guh, I mean Australia.

An especially satisfying and comfy lunch.

Other hikers leaving messages. What's a "hello" without a little penis?

Late in the afternoon, we finally caught up to GrownUpFriend and Englishman at a campsite with water. They'd been there for over an hour, and were actually itching to continue onward. My feet and joints were aching something fierce, but they offered to carry our tent and set it up, so that D and I could stumble into camp behind them. GrownUpFriend had gotten pretty excited about the idea of powering through this leg of the trip, in order to make it to our third drop box a day early. See, we'd not only be picking up food at our third drop box, but also GrownUpFriend's wife, and if we made it ahead of schedule, we'd suprise her (not an easy feat) and give ourselves more options on that leg of the trip. 
So. The pace had been set. 

GrownUpFriend and Englishman powered off carrying our tent, whilst D and I took a little time to refill our waterbottles and finish rubbing Tiger Balm into my ankles. 

Hiking lesson: Tiger Balm is amazing. Carry plenty. 

Restarting the hike at about 4pm with ankle pain wasn't easy, but D kept my spirits up with a lively farting competition (which I won by a landslide). But lo and behold, we'd only walked for another hour (or about 3km more) when we found GrownUpFriend and Englishman setting up camp by the side of the trail. On rocks. Rocks covered in goatheads. 

The additional weight of water and our tent had worn out GrownUpFriend, and they'd discovered the track was a bit tricky to walk in the fading light, so it was an unplanned campsite for us that night.

Ooops, I forgot to mention the spinifex. Thank god for the Colonelmajig to sit on.

In the evening, I learned it's just not worth it actually having a conversation when someone wants to start bitching about America's tipping system or gun laws -they just want to bitch.

More to come....

Day 6: 10kms, Counts Point (AH AH AH), being abandoned, crazy moon

The next day I woke up stiff, but in a much better frame of mind. D, just in case I haven't mentioned it a million times already, is wonderful, and so is Tiger Balm; my ankles felt much better after D worked the balm into my skin. I thank my lucky stars for both. 
We began the day by walking back up the stupid mountain. The view, however, was once again excellent. 

Welcome to New Mex- Dammit, I mean Central Australia.

The Colonel's catchphrase was "WOOOOOOOOW." Looking back the way we had come.

Looking to where we're headed.

Woooooooo!

Mt Sonder and the eerie valley.

Unfortunately, this was the day the Colonel and the SuperAussie had planned to leave the trail (some nonsense about "work" and "families" and "showers"). Lucky for D and I, the Colonel and SuperAussie were extremely generous with their gear, and gave/loaned us a few bits and pieces we appreciated for the rest of the trip: another fleece for D (who thought he'd be more impervious to the cold), a spork (since we broke all of our plastic spoons), a stove shield (which proved invaluable in the windy), and gloves (I thought I'd be more impervious to the cold). My absolute favorite piece was a sheet of foam from the Colonel, dubbed the Colonelmajig, which allowed me to sit in absolute comfort on even the pointiest of rocks and goatheads. INVALUABLE.

The Colonel and SuperAussie catching their ride.

The end-to-end group: me, Englishman, GrownUpFriend, and D (taking the photo).

For the four of us, the group suddenly felt a lot smaller. We stayed the night nearby this pick up point, and thank goodness, because my feet were killing me.

Home sweet home.

Popping my first blister.

Serpentine Gorge, where D and GrownUpFriend washed clothes again by the immersion method.

The full moon was SO BRIGHT it was casting shadows on itself. Or whatever you call this.

More to come...