Month: September 2024

Hooray, hooray, hooray.  The wind has gone!  The sun is out! Happy days!

The wind died down early last night.  Not a breath.  Not a drop of rain.  I woke up at 1am and realised I had slept for a solid five hours…unheard of!  An excellent sleep.

Taking advantage of the promisingly blue day, I determined I was going to take things slowly, look at things, have a break every 5km or so….and essentially, that’s what I did!

The morning walk was pleasant.  Easy and flat.  Cold mist rising through the trees into the shining blue of the sky.  For the first time in a week, I realised I could listen to the bush properly.  Hear the birds singing, the frogs droning, and the wallabies skulking through the forest. The bush came alive again.

I was walking along, in deep contemplation about the likelihood of seeing snakes, when I saw an emu further up the track. I’d come across a  day hiker earlier, a local, who warned me that the snakes “were starting to wake up.  I don’t have these poles for myself , they’re to prod off the snakes!”  I had also read a recent note in the hiker registration log at Cobboboonee Camp which read “Saw snake and leech”.  Exciting times to look forward too!

So, I was in deep thought when I saw this emu.  We stared at each other for a while, and I took a photo, even though I knew there was no way it was going to turn out.  It appeared to head off into the bush, and I slowly approached where it was standing. When I got to where I thought I had seen it, I marvelled at how such a big bird could disappear so quietly.  I turned around looking for it, and registered a strange squawking sound that I have never heard before, that could only belong to baby birds.  I had only just wondered to myself “Oh, I wonder if those are emu chicks”, when I heard a terrifying sound.

I heard a loud, vicious, threatening “nug, nug, nug, nug, nug” call, and looked up and into the maw of the beast. Beak wide open, feathers fluffed up all round the neck like a mane, angry eyes and only 15 metres away.  I had just enough time for my brain to register “oh, I was right” before it charged me.  I screamed, walking poles flailing like my life depended on it.  Luckily this deterred the crazed animal and it pivoted away from me and into the bush. 

I hustled. Where had it gone? I couldn’t see it.  I rounded a corner and saw an emu scurrying along the track.  Same one? Different one? I didn’t know.  I was terrified I was going to get jumped from the side of the track again.  I didn’t think about snakes for a while after that.

The afternoons walk is just as easy as the morning.  I spot the white and pink heath that is synonymous with this landscape.  Yellow robins are abundant, there are a gang of cockatoos that seem to follow me around screeching their lungs out, lizards rustle in the leaves, and I see a cat dart from one side of the track to the other.

I reach camp about 3.30pm.  There are a couple of fellows here, Geoff and Jamie, who are walking from Moleside (my stop tomorrow), back to Portland.  They seem happy to keep to themselves, but it is quite nice having other voices at the campground.

I’m now going to make the most of this dying sun to laze and read a bit before the cold of the night falls. By the way, I did see a leech.  Flicked it off my hand of all places.  Hope that’s the last of them!

Here I was thinking I’d be all alone for the night, when, just as I’m about to sit down to dinner, stuff all over the table, podcast blaring, in walks Elle.

We were both glad to see each other, and couldn’t help noticing a number of serendipities….Mel / Elle, same tents, both non-ultalite, I’d arrived at 1.30, she had left at 1.30, both from out of state, and, most helpfully, Elle had walked the Scottish National Trail two years ago! It was fantastic to have the opportunity to talk to another solo, female hiker about what to expect.  I’m now more excited than ever!

Once again, the night was a battle with the elements, so it was very nice having another person in the vicinity. Problems arose early for Elle, when, after two years in storage, her tent sprung a leak on the top seam seal.  Luckily she was able to reset under the shelter.  Meanwhile, out in the open, it was challenging.  Although the tent barely shook, this wind felt dangerous.  Racing through the tall treetops, gaining momentum like wave sets in the ocean.Stillness.  Then, the noise gathering, building, until it ripped through camp, blowing until satiated.  Repeat. Falling debris, being hit or having the tent punctured, was heavy on my mind all night long.

As the first light of the day broke, I groggily noticed a silver flash outside my tent.  No sooner had my sleep-addled brain formed the thought “Somebody is taking photos” then the sky unleashed like a vicious, angry beast screaming for a meal, the thunder roaring and roaring and roaring.  Hard to go back to sleep after that.

Contrary to the forecast of rain this morning, it was windy, but fine.  Regretfully, I said goodbye to Elle, who, with limited time is skipping to the next camp. The trail always provides and I think we both enjoyed our first night conversation and companionship whilst the storm surged.

The walk today was a fairly standard one through “Australian Eucalypt Forest”.  On this occasion, the eucalypt in question is the Eucalypt Obliqua, which was once extensively logged in the area. The track was flat, well marked, not particularly boggy despite the rain, and pleasant. 

5km short of the campsite, a road detour is in place, the result of a collapsed bridge.  Road detours are never my favourite, and this one, as well as being somewhat monotonous, added extra kilometres to the day.  Better a detour than being unable to go forward at all though.

Elle is at the camp, just finishing up her lunch when I arrive.  We have a quick debrief and then it’s goodbye again.  True to form, I spend the afternoon listening to podcasts and searching for a suitable site that will enable me to feel reasonably protected from branch fall if the winds persist again tonight.

All in all, a good day.  I suspect it’s going to be the coldest night yet tonight, as my hands are already starting to go numb!  Time to put them back in my jacket pockets!!

And now here we go again! I’ve bussed it up to Portland and am  going to have a crack at the 250km long GSWW.

I’m not going to lie.  It is a real struggle this morning to feel motivated.  The wind is still howling, rain is predicted, the bag is heavy having been loaded up with 6 days worth of food, there is every chance I will be completely alone on the trail, and I’m tucked into a nice warm bed. Yes, this was a real test of my fortitude this morning.  What got me moving in the end was the thought that all of this is leading to Scotland next year.  And I’m pretty certain this is exactly the sort of weather I’m going to encounter.  Time to get moving.

The rain does begin almost immediately.  I’m in my full rain gear today, but it’s still just a drag.  Especially as I’m walking through Portland to get to the outskirts of town.  I feel like such a dick.  It’s absolutely bucketing down, the wind is blasting and here I am trudging along with a huge backpack on, ready to go on some outdoor pursuit.  I just know that every person, in every car, sees me and is no doubt thinking “What an idiot…..” And it feels a bit like I might be.  Is this really a holiday?

After a solid drenching for a couple of hours, the rain starts to ease up a bit.  And it is great timing, because I’m just about to leave the highly habited area and move into the forest.

Almost immediately I can feel my angst diminishing, as I look at the tall trees, listen to the birds, seemingly also calling with joy also that the rain has stopped, and taking the first break of the day.

The walk to Cubby’s from here is essentially a walk through verge forest.  Not virgin forest.  Verge forest.  Corridors of forest between neighboring properties and the railway line for the most part.  It’s nice.  Very flat, practically no hills at all.  And well signposted, so the walking is on very easy trail.

It starts to rain again just as I reach camp, so I sit and relax under the shelter, nibbling on my food and stretching the legs until it passes.  A quick look at the walkers registration book tells me that the last people through were a tour group of 10 who passed through 5 days ago.  Yep, this is going to be a practice in solitude I think….

It rains on and off all afternoon, but I enjoy whiling the day away listening to podcasts and starting a book that I have been saving just for this walk (The Salt Path by Raynor Winn).  Yep.  Things are pretty good.