Great South West Walk, Day 9 – Swan Lake Camp to Mt Richmond to Tarragal Camp, 23km

It feels like such a relief to be headed away from the beach this morning.  The ground hard and unyielding. No sinking into the sand.

I’m feeling quite good this morning.  I receive a number of supportive messages, in particular, from my good friend Miriam who always reminds me that she, and others, will be there for me when I return.  It is very motivating.  Particularly when it feels like I’ve not really been part of society for a little while.  I think it was my 5th?, 6th? night camped alone.

Secondarily, the sun is sort of shining.  It’s not raining and the wind has disappeared.  Time to get hiking.

It’s a bit of a hill challenge today.  Slowly creeping up and up and up along fire trails, across paddocks, through bush tracks and across bridges. A huge kangaroo blocks my path at one stage, nonchalantly chewing on a long piece of grass.  I’m not tangling with this fellow.  He slowly finishes up, looks at me once more, and moves on.  As do I.

I reach a high point, and although there’s no sign I decided to risk it….I look back.

Eventually I reach the peak of Mt Richmond. There are no views from the picnic ground, but I enjoy sitting down and taking my shoes off.  Having an actual break that isn’t rushed because it’s raining. There is a large group of superb fairy wrens dominating the picnic ground, the males luminescent with their bright blue feathers.

The rest of the walk to camp is a reverse of the start of the day.  Down and down and down along fire trails, bush tracks and sandy roads.  Xanthorrhoea (grass trees) offer a bright splash of colour under the pale of the eucalypts.  Spring flowers are starting to show and the bush smells of honey and burnt caramel.  The yellows of the wattle reign supreme but orange peas, and red correa are bright flashes in between.

I arrive at camp and receive a rather severe culture shock.  School group! About 15 of them. They are spread out all through the site and the collective sound of talking is rather shocking after being alone for so long.  I claim a spot at the back of the group and hide in my tent.  Eventually I realise I have to take control.  I must leave my tent! I go to the shelter and clear a small space for myself.  And here I now sit. Happy sac circle in full swing next to me, others cutting up their dinner across from me, girls braiding hair and gossiping.  They inch closer and closer until I’m surrounded.

This could be the hardest part of the day!