Month: January 2020

Great North Walk – Day 7

Basin Campsite to Flat Rock Campsite

Distance – 19km

“This walk is making me……thirsty”

First things first. With an actual toilet on hand, the day was off to a sensational start! A water tank too! I filled all my bottles and bags to capacity – around about 7L. That’s a lot of weight. By this stage it has become apparent that the available track notes are not really set up for a complete thru hike from Sydney to Newcastle. More so, they have been written for hikers intending to do a a couple of day’s here and there, using the train line to move to various starting positions. As a result, unlike notes that have been written with the intention of guiding someone over the course of a couple of weeks, these leave critical information such as potential water sources and resupply points somewhat lacking. At this stage, as far as I can tell, there are no permanent creeks, ponds, taps, troughs or any other places to get water from for the next couple of days.

The beginning of today’s walk is really nice! Lush green valleys and still pools. The buzzing of the insects and the stillness in the air leaves me thinking that nobody has been here for a very long time. It seems somewhat magical. Almost like it’s lulling me into not moving. There is a sense of heaviness and age.

Like a malevolent pool in a fairy-tale, the droning of the insects and frogs and the stillness in the air felt enough to lull somebody to sleep forever.

Despite being somebody who probably COULD be lulled by a malevolent pool into an eternal sleep, I gather all my strength and move on. Eventually, I make it back to the trail. That’s right – all this, just to get back on track!

From here the hills (mountains!) start back up again. As I’ve said before, flat is not a thing. Under the load of this water laden, heavy pack, I begin using my tried and true technique for making it through the toughest of hills….20 steps on each foot, then take a break for 10 -20 seconds. Repeat. And repeat. And repeat. And repeat. It may be slow, but it gets me there. Every. Single. Time.

Yeah….I’m puffed. And possibly still quite sick. Well, I need to blame that look on something!

Despite the hills, I’m conserving water like a drought stricken camel. Little sip here, little sip there. This shit’s got to last! Having restrictions in the amount of water that one can drink, is fairly rare in my circles. To go without. To HAVE to go without, gives such clarity as to it’s importance to our survival.

I come to a sign. Camp is only 3.5km away! But more than that, I’ve reached the halfway mark!! I look hard at the figures. Newcastle is only 88km away! Sure, I have to go back and cover what I missed….but I can make it to Newcastle! I’m sure of it. The elation of getting this far puts a spring in my step on the final push to camp.

I’m over half way. And I’m excited!

I skip into camp. And oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!!!!!

“Made my campsite and I could weep for joy. There is an unadvertised watertank here. I can drink as much damn water as I want! Mountains many today.”

Message to my supporters.

“Drink up Zargo! Not usually saying that about water! Ahahaha!”

Reply from my sister

My sister is right. I’m usually saying it about wine. But as I gulp down my fill of water, I make a pact with myself. If there is one memory that I am going to take away from this walk. One lesson learnt. It’s going to be remembering that feeling of dread at having to conserve what you drink. The fear of not knowing whether water is available. And the absolute joy when it is.

I set up camp and explore. The views from “Flat Rock” are amazing. I take my stove and cook up a dinner overlooking the edge of the world. Another day down. Just 6 more to go.

Way to ruin a nice view!
Just wow.

Great North Walk – Day 6

Archers Campsite to The Basin Camping Area

Distance – 34km!

“WTF! Track closure?!”

Another day. Another potential cooked breakfast. I downed my in tent coffee and dreamed of a breakfast stop in Yarramalong. 13km. I could do that. Like greased lightning I was packed up and on my way by 7am. The morning walk was really pleasant. Nice green valleys and moist creeks. I continued to listen to my tunes. The pace of my music dictated how fast I walked. That is, until the batteries on my headphones ran out. The disappointment was tangible, and a reminder that I was now into my fifth day without a power source. Sadly my headphones didn’t cut it as the number one priority to power up. Oh well.

The demise of my headphones occurred round about here.

I tip tapped my way down the road and into the Yarramalong servo by around 11am. Now let me ask you something…When you dream of an egg and lettuce sandwich, do you dream of mashed up egg, creamy mayo and crisp lettuce all on beautiful, fresh white bread? I did. So I was somewhat surprised, and quite frankly, inordinately disappointed by my fried egg, soggy lettuce and stale bread sandwich. Chips were good though. And I upped my drinks quota to four sparkling, cold beverages.

I sat outside taking a break for about an hour and wondered just how many people I was offending. There comes a point, where no matter how diligent you are with your “daily washing”, you realise that you do, in fact, stink. Sitting outside that shop, shoes and unwashed socks off, and in the same clothing I had worn for the past 6 days through sickness, floods and scorching heat, I came to that realisation. It’s something you have to wear like a badge – even though you feel mildly embarrassed by it. Hey, you’ve worked damn hard to smell this bad!

Still, there were those brave enough to approach. “Where ya headed?”. “The Great North Walk….from here and up the road to Cedar Brush”. “Oh. I’ve done that. And boy oh boy it was tough. Bloody tough! And that was without a great big overnight bag like you’ve got! It’s tricky too! Could be dangerous with a big bag like that! Good luck!”. Yep. Thanks for the chat mate.

Time to hit the road again. Quite literally. With a long road walk of around 8km until the turn off to the Cedar Brush campsite. Weighed down with a tonne of water, I set off.

I would eventually climb that mountain over yonder

I hummed along pretty well. There were some amazing properties, but it was boiling hot. Road walking is both a blessing and a curse. You can cruise along quite quickly, but you pay the price in terms of foot distress and reflective heat from the road. I sure was looking forward to getting to that turn off! From there, just a 2km walk to camp. I’d be there by 2pm!! Sweet!! A nice long afternoon under the shelter of the trees to rest up, relax, and get off my feet for a bit.

And just like that, my dreams of an early finish were scattered to the wind

Arrrrggggggg! What the hell! Surely this is fake news! I try the number, but I have no reception. The devil is sitting on my shoulder…”Just take it. Whose going to know? What’s the worst that could happen? Goddamn it – this is your rest day!!” I sit down and look at the map. The “alternate” route is a road walk, 9km long. At the end of all this decision making, there is nothing to do except keep walking. Up and up and up and up, a dusty, dirty road. No nice views. No nice scenery. No nice seats. Not nice.

Eventually I hobbled into camp around 6pm. It’s just going on dark. The campsite is impressive. Huge. It has picnic tables, a watertank, and, in a minor miracle, a pit toilet. I, of course, am the only one there. I strip off fully and use some of the available water to douse myself in liquid gold. It feels amazing, refreshing, and cold. I sit at one of the tables and boil up some water so I can make my dinner. It dawns on me that if I want to complete the Pacific Crest Trail next year, this is the sort of kilometers I will have to walk every single day. It’s confronting. But I’m proud of myself. This is the furthest I have walked on a single day. Ever. And if I’ve done it once, I can do it again. Can’t I?