August 2021 - Page 3 of 3 - Melly Takes a Walk

Day 9 – Calabrinda Creek to Buckaringa North Campsite – 18km

Total Distance – 170km

A Heysen Trail story

One of the most common questions I get is “Aren’t you scared?” And most of the time, if it’s a woman asking me, the underlying question is “Aren’t you scared of getting raped and murdered? Or of something bad happening?”

It’s an interesting question. And I often wonder to myself, “Do men actually have to think about this question? Would they, or do they feel afraid of running into somebody nasty on the track?”

The reason I bring this up, is because I let my imagination get away from me last night. Usually, I’m really good at keeping it in check, but sometimes it’s hard to keep a lid on it. Even when you know it makes no sense at all.

After dinner I decided to stay out of the tent a little longer by dancing. When you have the campsite to yourself, dancing and singing is a fantastic way of keeping warm, stretching, and “wasting time”. And it’s a shitload of fun.

So, that’s what I’m doing. Headlight on. Earpieces in. Just going for it. When suddenly I see a light up on a nearby hill, roving. Now what has me jittery, even before this, is that the campsite is adjacent to a road. And that’s a trigger for me to imagine that somebody can easily just drive straight up to me. So that, combined with this mysterious light, which keeps moving periodically over the mountain range gets me thinking “Did somebody see my torch light? Is somebody headed this way?” It’s pretty crazy I know. And I felt a right fool this morning when I reached a locked gate at the end of the road. But that’s also the way it is, for me anyway, as a solo female hiker. You can try and be as rational as you like. But once a little fear gets hold, it can pretty easily run away. At the time, I stopped my tunes, got into my tent, thought about it properly, and felt a lot safer.

Now I’ve reached the next campsite, which is even closer to the road! And, there is a mysterious road bike here chained up with a helmet, gloves, water bottle all attached. Nothing in the log book. The bike is making me nervous. It’s almost 4.30, and so I’m hoping the owner might turn up soon. It’s just….not right.

But halelujah! This camp site has a little table!! No toilet. But the table is excellent!

I was in much more buoyant spirits today. It was a warmer night, so I slept a lot better. Still in all my gear, but at least I felt warm. And knowing that it was going to be a relatively short day helped as well.

The first 10km or so consisted of a straightforward road walk that was really pleasant. Galahs kept me company, along with the ever present mountains. My wish for a bit of sun didn’t pan out, with thick grey clouds still blanketing the sky.

A friendly reminder of just how far I have to go!

The sun is really, really trying hard to peek it’s way through

It was in the final 8km that the magic happened. After turning off the road, I stopped to have a break on a grassy patch on the bank of a riverbed. Little did I know, that if I’d just walked to the next riverbed along, I would have found not just seats, but perhaps also the most amazing view of the walk so far.

An ochre pit, in a dazzling array of hues. Purples, reds, yellows, and whites. The colours extended from a mountain in the distance, all the way down the creekline to where I now was. And setting off all the colours was a beautiful, deep, green pool of water, where masked wood-swallows and budgerigars flitted about in glee.

The magical first sighting of the ochre pits

It felt incredibly special. I’m presuming that the pools are normally dry. And so the experience of seeing this place so brimming with colour and life was positively surreal.

Feeling very blessed to see something so special

The walk then followed a fence before ascending up what would be the only hills of the day. Looking back to see the white of the ochre pits added to the sense of accomplishment.

Having not seen anybody since Hawker, I took the opportunity availed at the high point to ring the head of my support crew and his family. How great to be able to sit in the middle of the desert and show them the magnificent view I had from the top of that hill.

From there, it was a short but rocky wander down the hill and into camp. It was a magic day. And tonight the goal is to keep calm Melly. Keep calm.

What does a red sky mean for the following day?

Day 8 – Hawker to Calabrinda Creek Camp site – 27.29km

Total Distance – 152.5km (on trail)

A Heysen Trail story

I’m going to be honest. I had my first little bit of struggle today. Nothing major, and I still enjoyed myself. But I just wasn’t on the same high as I have been in the previous week. And I’m not really sure why either. The views today were absolutely spectacular – same as they have been every other day. I just wasn’t feeling it the same.

I think it’s maybe a couple of things. Firstly, it was a lot of hard work getting all my gear issues sorted out. Such as they were. It’s a draining way to spend a day of “rest”. I’m really hoping everything will be resolved by the time I reach Quorn. I’m sick of thinking about it.

The second is that right from the start of the walk there has been a thick blanket of grey cloud stretched right across the sky. I’m longing to feel the warmth of the sun, especially in camp. Just for a little bit. The threat of rain has been constant. Come on sun! Just a day! I’ll probably live to regret those words…

Having said all this, it was a great day of walking. Long, for a newly laden pack chock full of food for the next few days.

First things first and I enjoyed a sausage roll and coffee from the Hawker Food Company before setting off. Feeling satisfied, I went about the business of retracing my steps back up to Jervis Hill. Whereas last time I was racing towards town and a bed and a shower and a pub meal, this time I was racing towards a “trucks use low gear” hill. It didn’t have the same appeal.

Looking back down the hill out of Hawker. Almost at the top!

Still it didn’t take long, and as it turned out it was the only real hill challenge of the day. Next up was following a road and then a fenceline towards a craggy faced ridge. Rocks became more predominate, before turning into a full scree slope. Bright red Fucias provided a blast of colour in an otherwise green environment. Many Acacias were laden with buds. The bush will come alive with yellow in the next few weeks.

Scree-ey slope. But keep following the fence.

The walk continued adjacent to the craggy ridge providing vast vistas on each side. It was impossible not to stop and take photos. Though even as you take them, you realise you can’t capture how incredible it really is.

The afternoon was spent following a long fenceline through occassional groves of yellow sennas. Eventually, the fenceline intersected with white, pebbly road that wound it’s way up and between a small range. In the distance, another mountain range of a deep blue hue provided the greatest view of the afternoon and more reasons to stop and get the camera out.

Blue hue of the mountains in the distance

Happy to see all that walked track in the background

It’s very cold already in camp now. It’s a bit rough and ready compared to some. Although water, a small shelter and a drop toilet are provided, the body longs for a seat to sit on to stretch the weary legs. Instead I’m perched on these couple of wobbly rocks. Though judging from the cool air, I’ll be huddled in my tent fairly shortly after it gets dark.

I’ve not seen a single soul all day. Not even off in the distance. I’m kind of hoping I might pass somebody tomorrow. Just so I can say hello. It’s going to a relatively short day…with hopefully just a little bit of sun.

Trying something new for dinner. Soup and naan bread. Wasn’t too bad!

Day 7 – Hawker administration day – 0km

A Heysen Trail story

I woke up from a nice, relaxing sleep, and immediately got to work. On the cards, replacing my sleeping bag and trying to get a fix for my tent. And communicate with the companies involved.

First thing. The sleeping bag. Now, I figured I kind of needed all the goods to be sent from Adelaide to ensure that they would arrive in the rather remote town of Quorn by the time I arrived in 5 days time. Including a weekend. A bit of online research and then I rang Paddy Pallin and struck gold when Luke answered the call.

I told him what I was after and what I needed and he was sensationally helpful in assisting me to pick out a bag and get it sent. For interests sake, I decided on a Mont Helium 450. He didn’t have any sleeping bag liners or tent repair sleaves, so on to the next shop. And the next. And the next. And the next. I’m not sure if it was a Covid related supply problem or these things have been selling like hotcakes, but there was none of either to be found in South Australia. Time to look a little further afield and hope that they arrived in time.

Just as I finished all my purchasing, I got a text from Luke. He’d found a tent repair sleeve in their “odds and ends” pile. He would throw it in free of charge. A back up plan. Awesome!

Next up, tackling the manufacturers regarding warranty claims. I drafted up emotive, but factual emails and sent them off. Before long I got a reply from the MSR representative. Sorry not sorry was the gist. He would replace the piece of the pole that was broken. We argued the semantics of the warranty and what the pole consisted of. His argument. That only part of the pole was broken and so that was the only part that needed replacing. My argument. That the “pole” is still under warranty, and doing a field repair of a small section of the pole is bound to make it less structurally sound than the original. He won. And the piece is being sent on to Melrose, where I will carry out the repairs.

Sea to Summit were a little more abashed in their response. Though they did palm the warranty claim off to my supplier. Email sent and waiting to hear back.

Phew! All of this took forever! Leaving the afternoon to shop for a few supplies and walk the streets of Hawker. A nice, neat little town full of interesting small, stone houses. There is a great heritage walk around the town.

And I couldn’t go past the rissoles for dinner. Again.

The “razorback” I walked over yesterday from a distance.

Day 6 – Mayo Hut to Hawker via the Yourambulla Ranges – 30.22km

Total Distance – 140km

A Heysen Trail story

Can you guess what happened? You can, can’t you? There were NO mice! Or, at least none that I heard. Tucked up as I was. Nice and warm in the heat of the fire. Stone wall solid against my back. I had the best sleep of the trip so far, and woke up feeling relaxed and ready…And smugly proud of myself. Even though some could argue that since I never heard a mouse….just give me the win, ok?

Today was a walk in three separate parts. The first of which was a 10km long creek walk out to the highway. Much to my delight, there was a semi-formed track up on the lefthand bank. It was a still morning. The dreaded wind had died off during the night, however, a grey pall remained with mist on the mountains.

The “track” snaked it’s way through large expanses of salty chenopods, and spiky Acacia. Salsola kali was everywhere. In full blossom, with an interesting flower, just waiting to become a spindly tumbleweed laying this whole paddock to waste with spiny burrs.

The smaller Euros were replaced with magnificent Red Kangaroos, their pelts glistening in the scant morning sunshine. After watching one bound out of my way, I couldn’t help but say out loud “That. Is. Fucking awesome”. The absolute ease in which they navigate through this country is just natural selection at it’s best. I tripped on a rock as I said it…

Eventually I reached the main road. There is a choice to be made here. Walk the 7km into town and be done for the day. But come back later and complete this section. Or walk the Yourambulla range, and then do a 7km walk into town. But continue on your merry way at the completion of your town stay.

I chose the later. My reasons. My bag had little food left in it, so was comparatively light. And the wind was holding off which would be ideal for the ridge walk. And so the second phase of walking commenced.

It starts with a long, straight walk along a paddock fenceline. All the while the ranges becoming larger and larger as you approach. There’s a small hill scramble, and then you’re on the ridge! The view is unbelievable. On one side, vast yellow plains that taper off into mountains in the distance. Mountains that I had walked past that very morning. The town of Hawker is also visible. And seems rather far away from this angle.

On the other side, a verdant green field with a looming mountain range directly adjacent to it. It is incredible. And so the ridge walk commences. Scrambling over the rocky outcrop and looking for the least hazardous way forward. I am intensely glad that I made the decision to go whilst the wind was good. I don’t think there’s any shame in saying that it can feel a bit daunting up there all by yourself. Just a little bit concerning. Fun though.

Eventually you begin to drop. And here the scrambling really starts to commence. Patience is the key. Though the mental battle can be a struggle, knowing that the longer it is taking, the longer it is going to be before you get to your room for a rest and shower.

Slowly headed down. Hawker is tiny in the background

I reach the bottom and have a break. River walking, ridge walking and road walking are the big three in terms of foot and ankle problems. So it’s a hard day on the feet. A car pulls up and I chat to a couple of folks about what I have been doing. They are nervous about going up to a lookout not far up the hill. I encourage them to go. It’s worth it for the view. And not too difficult to get to that point. They set off.

Onwards from the lookout is for us special folks only.

And I think “If only they were just finishing the walk now, I might have got a ride into Hawker…” Not to be. I slung my pack on, and set off on the 7km road walk into town. Phase 3.

As I’ve said in many of my previous blogs, road walks after you have been on tracks all day can be pretty hard. Both mentally and physically. Knowing this I had left an ace up my sleeve. My music. Unlike many others that I see walking with their headphones on all the time, I generally walk without it. I save my music exclusively for tough times. For times such as this.

On the tunes go at full blast. And instantly my mood is uplifted. I’m flying down that road, prancing and singing at the top of my lungs. The time really does go very quickly. The couple pass me just as we are both about to get into town. They had watched me belting along. Had stopped just to make sure I was good. That was very kind of them, And I was good. I skipped into town shortly after.

To a bed at the Hawker hotel motel. A little bit dated, but exactly what you expect of an outback motel. The pub dinner was absolutely fabulous. Big, fat rissoles with piles of steaming mash, roasted vegies and slathered in an onion sauce. Just what the doctor ordered.

Back in the room I threw all the extra blankets on the bed and plumped up the pillows. This was going to be good. And the very best thing? That after a day that was so very, very good, I spoke to the head of my support crew, and it turned out that that conversation was the absolute best part of the day. How good is that!

Day 5 – Red Range Camp site to Mayo Hut – 18.2km

Total distance – 111.2km

A Heysen Trail story

Well. It’s fair to say it was a sleepless night. The wind howled like a banshee through the hills all night. The trees eager to answer it’s wicked call.

My tent was miraculously, fairly protected. But that didn’t prevent forceful gusts from slamming the ramparts regularly. All a bit frightening when it’s literally freezing cold. To bed I wore my beanie, socks, merino longs, merino singlet, merino long sleeved top, fleece jumper, and, puffy. And my dud of a sleeping bag. Can’t wait to get rid of it. Seriously.

Walking today commenced with a long creek bed walk. Nice and sandy, so fairly easy walking. Ephemeral pools attracting flying insect life. The breeze was bitterly cold, and a large, dark cloud lurked ominously in the background.

I spent much of the day thinking about my mouse phobia. I’ve joked about it a lot on this blog. But the fact is that it is actually very debilitating. Especially for someone interested in long distance hiking. I don’t think many people understand the absolutely abject feeling of terror that strikes. And that the fear can be the difference between a good and bad decision. Potentially life threatening decision. When it comes down to it.

In a funny way, having both my sleeping bag and tent break down unexpectedly has forced my hand in this regard. Tonight I will be staying at Mayo Hut. And I’ve decided rain, hail or shine, I’m sleeping inside. I’m more than uncomfortable with this decision. But can’t help thinking that maybe this is the reason that both of my big ticket items broke down so unceremoniously in the first week. To propel me to conquer my fear. Tonight I take my first steps….

The river walking makes way for a short, but most welcome, ridge walk. The hills are absolutely carpeted with a small, yellow flowering bush. The scenery is impressive. I spot a group of hairy goats off in the distance. No doubt up to no good.

I use the turnstile to leave Arkaba. It’s back to more creek walking. This time the creek is immensely wide. And much more rocky than the previous creek had been. The opportunity to twist an ankle is there at every step. Rather than walk linearly, I zigzag back and forth, trying to pick out the least hazardous way forward.

And then I arrive at Mayo hut. The superstar of the day! What a gorgeous little place. First constructed in 1899 and sitting pretty amongst a vast and comparatively desolate wilderness. A gang of 20 cockatoos either shriek a welcome or a warning at my arrival.

Inside is a stone floor, bunks and benches and a lovely big table where I’m sitting writing this now. I’ve got my pj’s on, a cup of hot mocha in hand, and the fireplace is gently glowing with warm embers. I feel so very lucky to be nice and toasty inside whilst the bitter wind rages.

Soon it will get dark. And that’s when my fear will start. But today, no choice but to live with it. And keep the comforting fire ablaze. That’s important I think. Time to go and collect some more firewood…..

Day 4 – Wilpena Pound to Red Hill Camp – 29.72km

Total Distance – 94km

A Heysen Trail story

Epic. Epic. Epic. That’s all you can say about this day. The distance. The weather. The stunning, stunning scenery. And. The disaster.

Let’s start with the good stuff. Last night was very, very chilly. I left the restaurant amidst steams of fog from my breath. It was going to be a cold one indeed. The sleeping bag was up to the job. I just kept having to wake up every time I turned over to tuck in all the sides. Luckily, I slept very well. So it wasn’t too much of an issue.

As I packed up this morning, I had a gentleman approach me. Asked if I was doing the Heysen. Made a bit of small talk. As he left he told me I was very inspirational. What a nice thing to say! I don’t feel that way myself…but it certainly made me feel good. That I might inspire other people just by doing something I love.

I got underway in the chilly morning. Rain clouds loomed overhead. It was a quick 8km along flat, blue mallee country to the base of Bridle Gap. From there, not a difficult couple of kilometers to the gap itself. On the way it started to rain. Very quick and feathery. Like a mist but harder. The overcast sky puts the splendour of the mountains in sharp relief.

At the gap, I was unsurprised to find two men. I had been following their footprints all morning. Sadly, I didn’t catch their names, though it turned out one of them had finished a section hike of the Heysen just two weeks previously. We admired the view. Completely epic. Formation after formation of huge mountains stretching as far as the eye could see. I grabbed my pack and they offered to take a photo for me. So very nice of them. One of them then told me I was very inspirational. His exact words. Twice in one morning! Maybe I AM really trying to do something very special. You can’t beat that sort of spontaneous sentiment. So kind. And provides much motivation to keep going!

I got going. A rocky scramble down the mountain followed by walking in the ancient river beds. The size of the river red gums needs to be seen to be believed. All the while, the rain continued to fall.

Leaving the Ikara-Filnders National Park

I had left the Ikara-Flinders Ranges National Park and now entered the Arkaba Wildlife Conservancy. I followed a fence line through lush green paddocks. Mountains on all sides. Green in the desert SO ridiculously abundant. The wind began to pick up, until it was howling with blustery rain. Nothing for it but to push on. The amazing scenery a perfect antithesis to the less than perfect weather.

I reached the range I had viewed this morning from the Gap. Now, I walked adjacent to it, headed south towards the hut. The afternoons walk was gently undulating and stunning. The wind and rain couldn’t put a dampener on it.

Eventually I reached the camp, relieved that the rain seemed to have stopped and the wind died down a little. I went about unpacking my gear and setting up as per usual. That is. Until I got to my tent pole…

Now, I have an MSR Hubba Hubba. Again, an expensive tent – $900 quid or so. And this tent has only done about 250km. The MSR Hubba Hubba is built on its “shock proof” poles that can stand up to anything! Apparently not so. Must have been this morning, as I was packing up, one of the aluminium sliders that holds the parts of the pole together has fallen off. Or broken. Or something. I have no idea. I just know that it is not there now. And I had no idea that it was even missing. I thought the poles had packed up just fine. Just the same as normal.

But no. And now my tent won’t stand up properly. It looks like Frankenstein. And silly me – not thinking for a second that it would be the poles that I had a problem with – didn’t pack anything to potentially fix it. At the moment it’s held up with my Covid facemask. Yes, you read that right. My mask is cushioning the problem, so that hopefully my tent fly doesn’t end up with a hole in it from rubbing on the raw metal edge of the pole piece.

I’m sitting in here now. Although I feel rather secure at the minute, if it rains or becomes breezy again, things may get a little dicey. It is currently 4 degrees, and keeping my things dry is the top priority.

So now my plan is to get to Hawker in two days time and think about replacements for BOTH my sleeping bag AND my tent. I can’t believe it! I’m holding up my end of the bargain! I walked close to friggin’ 30km today. And no worse for wear. Tiny blister developing. Legs a little sore. But nothing major. Not like my gear. My supposedly excellent gear that seems determined to make things as difficult as possible for me. Well I’ve got news for them. I’ve survived a lot worse than this. They don’t know who they’re dealing with if they think gear breakage is going to stop me! And luckily there is a potential sleeping hut at the next camp site….

It’s also just a real shame that the tent issue overshadowed what was a truely epic day in which I was really proud of myself. Not only for the distance travelled, but also for the positive frame of mind I had all day under less than favourable weather conditions. The scenery and the variety of the trail was the absolute winner.

Day 3 – Yanyanna Hut to Wilpena Pound – 24km

Total Distance – 66.8km

A Heysen Trail story

Well. I’m not sure of my decision to move into the tent. It rained all night long. 10% chance of rain – not so weather forecast. Not so.

I didn’t sleep well again. The sleeping bag. Boiling feet one minute and frozen as an icecube the next. During the night I decided I would spend an extra night in Hawker and try to sort out a new bag. This is a once in a lifetime trip. I need to enjoy my sleeping arrangements.

So, it was an early start again. And wet. Rain sprinkled haphazardly and the valleys were full of misty wonder. It occurs to me that it is a blessing to see the desert looking so moist and mysterious.

The beginning and the end of the walk today are the real highlights. To start, it’s up and up and up. Green vistas all around and made even more special by the slinking fog. I spy a group of 10 wallabies high in the rocks in the distance. I’d really like to think they were yellow footed rock wallabies. That would be ace.

The hilltops give way to big old riverbeds. Massive red river gums caretakers of the creeks. The rain has left moisture in the cracks and fissures. Birds, including two huge wedge tailed eagles swoop overhead.

The middle section of the walk follows the same track as the Mawson bike trail. Makes for easy walking over undulating hills. The pure abundance of rain is evident here in the verdant green pastures surrounding the trail. Roos startle me as they go about their business. A little joey gets too close, and the mother rouses at it to move away.

The final section of the trail is also relatively flat, though the huge bluffs of the pound begin to dominate the environment. It is an absolute pleasure to feel so small. Surrounded by these giants of rock.

I arrive at the campground by 2.30pm. Again, I’m really happy with how my body is going. Today seemed much simpler than yesterday – even though it was quite a bit hillier.

I set up my tent and dry it out. Book a meal in the restaurant. Have a long, hot, steaming shower that soothes my tired muscles. Throw on my town clothes. As I said to my support crew – I felt like a million dollars.

Having completed my resupply for a couple of days I was able to ring the head of my support crew. It was so good to chat to him and see him ever so briefly. The wifi here really isn’t very good.

I type this now in the restaurant having had a great burger and fries. It’s almost 7.30pm and I can feel my eyes beginning to fade. The time has come to roll into bed and get some rest. I’ve decided on a big, big day tomorrow….maybe.

People, track notes and other stuff

I ran into a total of two people on the track today. A couple of grizzled, old men (in the best possible way) with long scraggly white beards and colourful hats. They were riding electric bikes along the Mawson track and carrying a picnic to consume at the gorge. How pleasant to have a little conversation about the magnificence of the scenery.

The campsite is HUGE! Though there doesn’t seem a huge number of people here. Covid maybe? The IGA is well stocked with heaps of good resupply options. The shower is bloody brilliant. Good spray and hot, hot, hot. Free wifi at the visitor centre, IGA and resort, though it seems to work much better at the resort. And even that, isn’t great.

Day 2 – Aroona Ruins to Yanyanna Hut – 25.4km

Total Distance – 42.8km

A Heysen Trail story

What a day. What a day. What a day! Seriously, that was one of the best day walks I have ever done. EVER!

Once again I was packed up early. Once again, I was contemplating my dud of a sleeping bag. I’m not sure what to do about that yet…

I was rather nervous about today’s hike. 25km might have been rather ambitious on the second day. Now that I was out here. Combined with that, was the rather steep looking hill that exited the campsite. My plan was to walk 5km. Rest. And repeat. If I was feeling uninspired, I could make the decision to stop.

Nothing for it but to go. So up I went. It wasn’t too bad! And the higher it got, the better the view got as well. It was absolutely amazing. Mountains in a circular panorama. In hues of red, dark green, and gold. The colours showing up brilliantly in the overcast light.

It felt a privilege to be there. To have the opportunity to see this sublime setting. I have not seen any views in this world that were better than this. Nature is sometimes just spectacular.

This was just the motivation I needed, and I powered on without really thinking about it. Before too long I had racked up the first 10km. And finished all the hill climbs for the day. I felt very pleased with myself.

My favourite part of the track. Coming down off the high point

Normally dry creeks were flush with moisture

Th second section of the day, though just as beautiful scenery wise, was a little more difficult. The small walking track became a bike path and the wind started to rise. Cranky and wild, it seemed to want to stifle my progress. Make me work for my achievement.

Ruin in the field. I’m sure I will become obsessed with these

And so I did. It was a blessed relief to finally spot the hut and stagger into camp. In hindsight, I wasn’t too bad. Tired feet and legs, but that passed fairly quickly. No aches from the backpack. Slightly dehydrated from scurrying along in the gale force winds all afternoon. Nothing that a night’s rest won’t fix.

The dastardly wind drove me indoors. The hut was a dark, corrogated iron shelter with a concrete floor, rickety table and a chair that looked ready to collapse if someone sat in it. I opened the sealed food storage box and found mouse droppings galore inside. This didn’t bode well. But neither did the blustery winds. I decided to set my tent up inside.

Not long after that several things happened. A couple turned up – the first I had seen “on the track” all day. They were looking for Dani, a hiker coming northbound from Wilpena Pound. They had met Dani earlier in the day and decided to come back to see her and offer her a bottle of fresh water.

We got to talking. Dani hadn’t showed up yet…they didn’t offer the bottle to me. That’s a joke! They were very lovely and are almost finished their sectional hike of the Heysen. And then Dani herself arrived. Rainbow coloured beanie glistening like a mirrorball in the distance. And then the couple’s two friends arrived. And then Dani’s parents arrived. And by this time I had decided to hightail it out of the hut and set up my tent. No one wants to hear me screaming at a mouse in the middle of the night.

Dani’s parents stayed for dinner and set a roaring, warm fire in the pit. They cooked meat and toasted sandwiches on a grill over the fire. I ate my dehydrated meal. Again, I joke! It was really great having some company and talking the trail. Dani is just a couple of day’s away from completing the whole thing. And obviously had the time of her life. It was very inspiring.

The party broke up when it started to rain. I scrambled to my tent where I sit writing this. The gusts have died off significantly and the rain is oh so gently pattering on the roof. I predict a good nights sleep coming up.

Track notes, people and other things.

At Aroona Ruins I also met Dianne. She is taking her time to walk into Wilpena Pound and then back again. She very kindly came over this morning and offered to take a couple of photos for me. It’s tricky when you are by yourself! So that was very nice of her.

I don’t know if it’s just me, but I found all the signage in the initial stages of the walk rather confusing this morning. There seemed to be Heysen stickers on everything and leading everywhere. I used Guthooks just to make sure. Basically follow the road up the hill until you reach the junction at Y5 and then turn off the road. No further use of Guthooks required for the day.

The other public service announcement is that if you are walking southbound, do not expect to see the hut appear as a mirage off in the distance encouraging you to walk towards it. You see the hut when you are bang on it. And not a moment before. That whole 25km (if travelling from Aroona) is on you!

Day 1 – Parachilna Gorge Walk in Camp to Aroona Ruins Camp – 18km (July 30th 2021)

A Heysen Trail story

After my sleeping bag fiasco I slept fitfully until around 6am. It was still dark, but I brewed myself up a mocha and started my pack up.

Cuppa tastes good even though sleeping bag is screwed!

It’s always the case at the start of a walk, but my stuff just wasn’t going into the bag as neatly as I would have liked. After a “That’ll have to do moment”, I got over my bulging pack, hoisted it on, and set off.

The walk was amazing. Just perfect for the first day. Stunning scenery in every direction, and best of all, relatively flat. Nothing more difficult than some rocky creekbeds.

The ranges soared above the gorge on both sides. A stunning mix of red and green. Down in the creek beds, wash outs of pure, red ochre lined the way. The track on the ridgetop varied from thick green pine forest, to bare, rocky scrub. It was amazing.

I saw a variety of wildlife – roos, some Port Lincoln Ringneck parrots, but the absolute highlight was observing a mother emu with her five baby chicks. Scurrying off together when they saw me. The size of the emu is immense, and to see one in the wild absolutely made my day.

The most spectacular scenery was reserved for right at the end of the walk near the Aroona ruins. Out of this world views. I’m once again looking forward to sunset.

I’ve spent the afternoon trying to rest up my legs. I got here fairly early, around 1pm. I probably should have taken it slower. I’m acutely aware that I’m not as fit as I would like to be moving forward. And tomorrow is a big day – 25km or so to reach my target. I can see a rather large hill climb straight off the bat too. Of course, if I’m struggling I don’t have to go quite as far. It’s just that I’ve booked into the campground at Wilpena Pound on Sunday night. But if I don’t make it till Monday, I don’t make it till Monday. Will just need to really pace myself tomorrow…and not be too stubborn about stopping early if I have to! I have the food, so that’s no worries. It’s my stubbornness that’s the issue!

Track notes, people and other things.

The track is reasonably marked with both signs and flagging tape. I didn’t get lost, so that means there is probably is enough of it to satisfy most people.

12km in is Pigeon Bore – a source of reliable water. There are some nice campsites quite close to bore – even with little bench seats!

I saw no one of the track all day. There are a few people at the camp ground which needs to be booked prior to arriving. There are plenty of toilets (and even paper!) and taps which pump out spring water.

There is a nice little table and chairs, hidden off to the side in the bus parking area, that is great to sit at and rest weary legs. I can vouch for that right now!

Parachilna Gorge Walk in Camp

A Heysen Trail story

I’m here! It all feels a little surreal as I look around at where I am. A rock strewn campsite, dwarfed by mountains. Not even a bird calling. Remote and ancient. Wild and mine.

I sit under the mountains contemplating my next few months. 1200km. It’s a hell of a long way. And put into perspective by the several hours of driving to arrive here. The challenge is daunting. But I’m excited! Really excited! I think I can do this.

My plan over the next couple of weeks is to take it slowly. Ease into it. I didn’t get to do my training hike remember? And these mountains are no joke. I read somewhere that to walk the Heysen is to walk the equivalent elevation as ascending Mt Everest two and a half times. Yep….daunting alright. But legs can get you anywhere if you give them the opportunity. And I intend to look after mine.

Pointing out the direction I’m going – South!

It’s so quiet. So, so quiet. A crow calls in the distance. A kangaroo silently lumbers though the campsite before bounding away. It’s warm. The sun about an hour away from setting. I’m looking forward to that. All the pinks and oranges lighting up the rocky escarpment.

I see plants I recognise. Bush tomatos, the mighty river red gums, delicate fan flowers. And spinifex. I’m back in tjampi country. It feels so familiar to me. Even though I’ve never been here before. It’s comforting. And I’m suddenly so excited I could burst. Tomorrow. Tomorrow, I’m on my way.

I watch the sunset and make my dinner. Go for a half hour night walk up the track using my torch. The trail markers glow in the dark. I startle a couple of roos. The sky is brilliant with stars.I get back and fall into bed dreaming of tomorrow…it’s a good sleep too…until disaster. Time for my first gear review…

Gear Review – Sea to Summit Flame IV Sleeping Bag.

I had been looking forward to using this bag. I forked out big bucks for it in preparation for the PCT. Between $600-700 dollars from memory. This was to be one of my big, new items. Super light, but super toasty warm, rated at -10 degrees celcius.

Because of this, I hadn’t actually used the bag. All the walks I’ve done in the meantime haven’t required that level of warmth. So it’s been sitting pretty in my cupboard at home.

Sliding into the bag for the first time on the trail was a thrill. A signal that I was attempting something major. I zipped it up and drifted off to sleep. I woke at 3am needing to go outside. I pulled the zip to undo the bag. And just like that, the zipper broke. Just let go of one side of the zip. No way of fixing it. To say I am livid is an understatement. Not even one nights use. That’s just not good enough.

And I’m a Sea to Summit girl. Well, I have been. I like to support an Australian company. Amongst my current possessions I have a S2S long handled spork, little pillow, mattress protector, stow away backpack, towel. The list probably goes on.

I also had a women’s Etherlite bed matt. Also expensive ($250) and it also failed me. Remember how I said my matt had a hole in it that I couldn’t find? I’ve swapped it out now. It had less than 500km of use.

All of this has made me realise that S2S may be great at the small stuff…price point under $50. But the big, expensive stuff….I’m going to actively avoid the company from now on. Not even one use…there’s no excuse for that.

It’s not the end of the world for this trip. But it does mean that I now need to wear my thermals to bed. Something that I hadn’t wanted to do. But I’ll still be warm enough and ok. Just frigging disappointed.

Track notes, people and other things.

I got a ride to the start of the track with Genesis touring. They were great to deal with and even dropped me all the way to the track head. It was $140 for the trip – which was just in a car rather than a bus – and at the moment they only depart on a Thursday.

Driving the car was Matt, whose wife served me the day before at Paddy Pallin. There was Mal, an old diesel mechanic from the area, who was very interested in Norfolk Island. Issi is French and here on a work visa. She was headed inland to volunteer at a company doing camel expeditions for a month. And there was Dave. Dave was a fellow walker who, it turns out, was actually supposed to start the PCT last year just after me. He had already completed the first several hundred kilometers, and was going back for a crack at another 500km. It was great to talk to him about the trail before he stepped off.

I stayed at the walkers camp, about 500m from the starting point. There are no tables or toilets, but a small water tank is available. I was the only person at the campground. Seems to be turning into a habit with me….