Category: Uncategorized

Total Distance – 332km

A Heysen Trail story

“I’m here! Was only 18.5km but to be here by 12.30pm is not too shabby! Nice and flat and soft gravel. I was able to fang it!”

Me to my support crew

“Good on you Lin! If you have fanged it, you will have gotten rid of the deleterious effects of the pizza, so you can enjoy your meal tonight. Have a good evening”.

Dad’s response

Ahaha Dad! How I enjoyed today’s walking! Just as it says, mostly flat with a couple of little mini minor hills. Beautiful, soft gravel road to fly along for the most part. Easy fenceline walking for the rest. I had the opportunity. And I fanged it.

I’m sure feeling well rested helped. It might have been a pretty outdated little room, but the bed was brilliantly soft and comfortable. Two big doonas heaped on top. Toasty warm and cosy.

And so I got off to a good start. At one point, I looked around and thought “It’s happening! I’m just floating along” as I marvelled at the dewy sparkles in the grass. Of course, I don’t think Pierre’s hard fought floating was the result of a chocolate glazed donut and two cups of coffee like mine was. But whose judging?

The hulking presence of Mt Remarkable kept me company all day. In fact I can still see it from the campsite now. Fields were lush and green, perhaps planted out with fallow crop in preparation for the next season. Gorgeous princess parrots and budgerigars flocked in pink adorned eucalypts. Flowers looking like tiny, delicate hula skirts.

And so I arrived in the tiny town of Murray Bridge around 12.30. Basically all that is here for the visitor is the community run campsite. No shop, pub or anything else. I select a sunny spot that curiously has an executive table and two office chairs set up nearby. A proper seat…absolutely yes, please.

I take a walk of the town, such as it is. I feel quite saddened that the beautiful old pub closed down at some point. All that history. I take my time examining all the power poles which have been brightly painted and depict a range of scenes.

Greg and Cath arrive. Do you know what they did for me? In Melrose, I was hoping to buy a gas cannister. Mine is almost out. However, there were none available. I was moping through the store trying to decide on food that didn’t need to be cooked, when Greg showed up and offered me a spare they had. What’s more, they carried it all the way here for me AND wouldn’t accept payment for it. Incredibly kind. And now I can cook away to my heart’s content. Thanks fe me yorlye.

So, the afternoon has been spent sitting in the sunshine in my executive chair and reading my book. Having a steamy, hot shower. And generally feeling very ok with the world.

Total Distance – 315.9km

A Heysen Trail Story

Life’s funny isn’t it. Not 5 minutes after I finished my last post, I heard an enthusiastic “Hello! You must be Mel!”. I turned around…and two hikers. I couldn’t believe my eyes. And thought, rather embarrassingly, about my tent already set up inside the hut. I hadn’t been expecting company!

Enter Cath and Greg. A couple of born and bred Adelaidarians. Also aiming to complete the whole trail. And the funny thing is, they’ve been just behind me the whole time! Here I was feeling like a bubble unto myself. Destined to just drift through the trail on my own. Yet these two were right there. Just a small step behind. They started the day after me. And caught me because they didn’t stealth camp. I admire them for that. What an epic day they must have had..

So, instead of biding my own time, it was discussions about the trail, gear, jobs (or lack of them), futures, Covid and all manner of items. Turns out we have very similar “philosophies” when it comes to hiking. Which is nice.

For me, this was really the lift I needed. I like being alone. But I also like people. And this meeting couldn’t have come at a better moment. An example of “the trail always provides” perhaps? Maybe not for them…maybe they were enjoying hiking alone. But for me, definitely. And, they didn’t have a problem with my tent being set up inside. And, when Greg revealed in the morning that there had, in fact, been plenty of mice scurrying about, I couldn’t have been more grateful. And impressed.

I had hoped for a nice, flat start to the walk. This was not to be. Just a couple of minutes after starting, I looked at the track and uttered out loud and in disbelief “Whhaaaatttt??”

Straight down. Steep as you like. I could see Greg and Cath on the other side trudging steeply uphill. Wow. This meant business. And on you go.

It wasn’t too bad actually. A nice brisk morning. The bushland teaming with life. Before long I had reached the Mt Remarkable track sign. And not long after that, the summit itself. And oh, what a view! Not. There actually wasn’t a view. Some nice tables, but that’s about it. I snapped a photo, ate some snacks in the sunshine, and prepared for the last few kilometers into town.

How I enjoyed the walk down though. There’s always a special feeling when you are heading into town. Excited anticipation. Especially if you’re going to get there early. Which I was.

Now the views came. Glimpses of Melrose and the surrounding countryside, all overlaid by the rough scree stone tracks. A nice, gentle downhill. Just perfect.

Soon enough, town. My room at the Mt Remarkable Hotel is…quaint. But has everything I need, and for $70 bucks, a bargain. Just a couple of doors down, the grocery store. Just a couple of doors the other way, the Laundromat. Both chores are out of the way quickly and I can relax.

Or, I could. If I didn’t have my MSR tent problem. Firstly, the part that was sent was wrong. It’s not going to fix the problem. Secondly, I have been told once again that a new pole is out of the question. Even though I now have two problem pieces. Thirdly, another round of re-measuring and sending emails, all of which takes up my precious town relaxation time. They were unable to respond to my question regarding why this problem with the pole had now occured repeatedly. They are a pain in my arse.

I’m now at the pub for dinner. It’s a chilly night outside, but the fire is blazing and raucous good humour can be heard throughout the facility. Seems a really friendly place. And I’m about to down a Supreme Pizza. All to myself. And not feel a single feeling of guilt about it. At all. I’ve earnt this. Definitely.

Total Distance – 305km

A Heysen Trail story

It was a humdinger of a cold night last night. Wedged in there between two mountains and right next to a creek. My fingers were frozen solid packing up the wet tent this morning. It’s a pretty dreary job when it’s wet and cold.

My support crew were very keen to point out to me however that I had a large climb straight off the bat this morning, and that that should warm me up quite quickly. If only they weren’t right all the time!

So this morning started with an upward push up a little, overgrown bush track. The change of scenery from the rolling green hills was most welcome, with the wattles well and truly now in bloom and intoxicating with their scent. Boisterous willy-wag tails made themselves known, fluttering around on the path.

The track soon joined a road, and the ups and downs really started. As I approach a monster in the distance, I’m pleading to myself “Surely the Heysen can’t be going up there…Surely…”. Surely it was. If there was a hill, you were going up it.

This was followed by a tricky little creek section. Small and narrow, with steep sides, the usually dry creek was full of water, leaving nowhere to walk in the bed. This meant following animal tracks up and down the sides of the creek to avoid slippery rocks and wet gorges.

I really enjoyed the shorter day today. I’m sitting outside Grey’s hut now, at a proper table and chairs, writing this in the afternoon sunshine. The inside of the hut strikes me as a little “mousey”, so I have set my tent up inside. I’m sure to feel secure! Hopefully it’s just a bit too cold for the little buggers. But we’ll see.

The other piece of news is that Ghost Walker has gone. Disappeared. The last I saw it’s tracks were a couple of days ago. It feels like now, I really am on my own.

Total Distance – 290.04

A Heysen Trail Story

“The Heysen Trail is just one big hill”

Pierre, Northbound, Day 55

I met someone on the trail! I’d been walking for about 15 minutes, when like a mirage, I saw a person walking towards me in the distance. I felt a bit tongue tied. It had been so long.

Pierre is a sixty something fellow, originally from France, but now living in Coffs Harbour. He showed me his war injuries. An infected leg. A huge graze on his right leg. He’d weathered storm after storm after storm. Literally. And he was loving it.

“I feel like I’m just floating on the air” he told me. I definitely don’t feel like that yet. But I hope to. Wouldn’t that be nice…to transcend the physicality of the walk itself, and just exist in some hardcore bliss. Perfect.

We chatted for about 10 minutes and then said out farewells. Both of us had much to do today. Because this was big hill country. And these were very big hills. But it was a beautiful sunny morning, with a cool, gentle breeze. Couldn’t ask for more with these hill climbs.

It took the full morning, but eventually I reached a road junction. This felt like a major achievement. For a couple of reasons. The first is that in the bus on my way to the start, it had been pointed out to me where the track crossed the road. I was warned that it was very hilly country. I remember looking out the window, wide-eyed with fear and longing, and wondering to myself if I could make it. “I hope I have my hill legs by then” I said to those in the car.

And now today, I was back there. And I made it! I may not have the best hill legs. I’m very, very slow. But domine. I did it anyway. I felt very proud of myself in that moment.

The second reason was that the road felt like the gateway to the next section of the walk. Done was I with the beautiful, rolling green meadows with the spectacular views. It was time to change it up.

First up. “Harry’s Run” adjacent to the main road. It might not have been the most scenic section of the walk to date, but I loved it. No rocks, relatively flat. It felt like a win. Onwards and up a side road until I reached a farm house with a bevy of barking dogs out the front. Up and around the farm and then down a telegraph line track. Easy as you like.

I reached the stony creek track around 2.30pm. It felt sublime coasting along knowing that camp was only a few km away. I came across a camping family with a couple of dogs. These ones weren’t so friendly. But no harm done.

Now I sit on a table writing this. It’s going to be a cold one. The camp is right beside a little creek which still holds water in it. Both sides are dominated by large hills, neither of which lets the sun penetrate.

Oh, and just as I thought my gear was all sorted, my tent pole has suffered another breakage. Exactly the same as last time. The ferrule on one of the lengths must have come unstuck when I was packing up this morning. Luckily, I have the spare temporary fix sleeve! But now I’ll have to have another chat with my MSR buddy about getting ANOTHER piece of pole sent. He should have just sent me a whole new one in the first place. Dealing with him is going to be fun…

And man oh man it’s frustrating! My last MSR Hubba Hubba lasted 10 years without a single issue. What’s going on? Why can’t these products do what they are designed to do? I’ll let you know what the MSR guy says to that question.

For now, I’ve got the temporary fix, so I’m golden. Time to make my dinner in the last of this light. And I’m very, very hungry!

Total Distance – 267.5km

A Heysen Trail Story

I’ve never really done much”stealth” camping. I’m a rule follower. Generally. And this is kind of against the rules. But the truth is, I didn’t really know what else to do. The stretch to the next designated camp site is just way too long for me to achieve without risk of injury. So stealthing it is.

I must say, it is an extremely nice stealthy spot. Amazing views on either side. The sun about to set on one of them. But it’s not very stealthy. I’m basically just off to the side of the track, and hoping that no one comes along. Surely not! I haven’t seen anybody on the trail since Day 4 of the walk. So surely nobody will come along. Right? We’ll see. For the moment I’m just blissed out on this grassy knoll in the sunshine. And that’s alright by me.

Whoever warned me that this section of the walk was “very hilly” was not wrong. It’s hilly alright! Starting with the big one. Mount Brown itself. The track up hill follows another public track, and it is very civilised. Long, but civilised. A couple of hours later I’m standing on the lookout viewing to my heart’s content. Bit hazy still unfortunately. But still great.

From here the track becomes much more “Heysen” like. A little rock scramble. A steep fenceline walk where you’re not at all certain what side of the fence you should be on. A little hut, which can be hired to stay at, but which also provides free water from the tank. I fill one of my extra bladders and then struggle to find my way out of the compound. Eventually I jump the fence.

Next up, those hills I was talking about. Big, green rolling hills. Going up and down so much it’s enough to make you seasick. Long, long, long way up. Long, long, long way down. The sheep seem to love it. Luckily there is a little road that runs parallel to the fenceline track most of the way, which at least makes the navigation part a little more straightforward.

And now I’m here, stealthily watching the sunset. My new sleeping bag arrangement made the world of difference last night. I’m actually looking forward to snuggling into bed. So a bit of dinner, Maybe a podcast while I pace it out backwards and forwards for a bit to stretch. And then my lovely, warm, cozy bed….hopefully.

Total Distance – 230km

A Heysen Trail story

I felt so incredibly grateful for this hut last night, as the wind picked up and started roaring through the paddocks, causing the tin roof to flap and sing. My broken tent wouldn’t have stood a chance.

And I’m feeling good! Ready to roll into town and lush it up for a couple of days. I bid farewell to the Dutchman. I shall remember him fondly.

Funnily enough, I think the thing I am most looking forward to is actually interacting with people. I haven’t seen a soul since leaving Hawker five days ago. Well, except for the Ghost Walker. I must admit to finding comfort in spotting it’s steps yesterday and musing on whether it had struggled as much as I had. I liked to think that it had. Not very charitable I know. But that’s how it was.

Today is a new day though, and I set off in high spirits. Just a short little jaunt into town. Starting with a most welcome road walk. Nothing too onerous and a great opportunity to stretch the legs a little after the cramped walking of yesterday.

Next up. “Follow the fence” through fields as green as the sea. And as vast. It was so idyllic. So lovely, soft and velvety underfoot. Like walking on a cushion of air. Herds of sheep and horses wandering about, seemingly enjoying going about their business just as much as I was. It was heavenly.

I arrived in Quorn just before lunch. Following recommendations, I was staying at the Elizabeth House Backpackers. What a place! And the owner Kylie is just a gem. No sooner had she shown me around what has to be the most luxurious backpackers I’ve ever stayed in (and I’ve stayed in a lot), then she was helping me dry out my tent and ordering me to relax and get in shower and hand her all my stinking clothes so she could wash them. It was just so gob smackingly kind.

I was then directed to the pub to get a well deserved big brekkie. Whilst there, I received a text from Kylie informing me that my washing should be dry by the time I got back. She’d hung it all up for me! If you take one piece of advice from this blog, make it this. If ever you are in Quorn, stay at the Elizabeth House backpackers. You won’t regret it.

And, to top it all off. All of my ordered replacement parts and repair kits had arrived and were waiting in my room! I now had a full day to get everything fixed, packed away, sorted and sent off before beginning the hike again.

Life felt very good as I sunk into the bed to sleep, so soft and warm, it felt like swimming in a hot custard bath. Life felt good indeed.

Total Distance – 221.6km

A Heysen Trail story

Well. Whomever left these two camp chairs in the hut. Bloody genius. I owe them a beer. Because these chairs have made my whole day better. Seriously.

I didn’t really enjoy today. Am I allowed to say that? Of course I am! And especially because it’s true. I found it a very, very tough day.

I just looked through my pictures, and they don’t do it justice! They depict soaring vistas, green paddocks, unusual mountains, tranquil rocky pools. And there was those things. But there was also rocks. Lots and lots and lots of rocks. I’ll be happy if I don’t see another creek bed again… for a couple of days at least!

The first goal of the day was to get to Eyre depot, around 12km away. All of it creek walking. By the time I got there, I felt like my whole body had taken a punch. It’s hard work keeping yourself from getting injured. Both ankles milli seconds away from serious sprains, multiple times; sticks that whack you in the face; sticks that strike at your feet fast as a snake trying to trip you up; poles that slip and slide and bang and crash; the heart in the mouth feeling of having just escaped injury time and time again. My heart might as well live in my mouth. It’s a jungle out there.

In hindsight, I should have planned to stay at Eyre depot. But there were multiple things keeping me going – I’d already booked my accommodation in Quorn and wanted a short run into town tomorrow, and, it was very windy at the campsite and I wasn’t sure my tent was up to it in it’s current state.

So I pressed on. This time a rocky fenceline walk. Same issues, different setting. The views were spectacular out across the plain, when the opportunity to look up presented itself.

Next a nice, little dirt track before suddenly being deposited back into the creek. More of this. Much more of this. And this time I was moving at snail pace with genuine fear that my ankles couldn’t handle many more unexpected twists. This section of the river also involved a lot of climbing and scrambling over large trees and rocky outcrops.

I found it very draining and struggled with keeping my spirits high. I made a very firm commitment to have a break every couple of hours, and that helped. Especially when sitting next to a slowly trickling waterfall.

Eventually, after what seemed like hours and hours and hours, a road appeared. And just like that, a fairly quick 5km into camp. When I say fast, it wasn’t really. Just quicker than I had been going. I limped into camp around 5.30pm.

But oh once again it is a little hut that lifts my spirits. There’s kangaroos galore in the yards outside. Electricity and a flushing toilet. A nice wide pad where I can bunk down for the night. And these chairs. These wonderful, wonderful chairs.

Today has definitely been a lesson as to what my physical limits are at the moment. I’m not quite ready for a 30km day with such high physicality as this yet. Patience young padawan. Patience. Got to remember the end goal.

And tomorrows goal. Which is consuming a big brekkie feast in Quorn. I reckon I can achieve that no worries. Ni night.

Total Distance – 193.5km

A Heysen Trail story

Somebody must have been listening, because when I emerged from my tent this morning, radiant blue skies. Not a cloud to be seen. I could feel the warmth of the day ahead, even through the chilly morning air.

And the mysterious biker? Nowhere to be seen. What was the story? When you are hiking a long way, random things fill much of your thoughts. And this morning I found myself thinking…”Could the mysterious biker be linked to the ghost walker?”.

You see, I’ve been following these fairly fresh looking tracks since I left Hawker. Sometimes I think it looks like the track of a female. Sometimes a male. And there is no record of this person. I keep looking at the log books, hoping to get a glimpse into this unknown walker. But all I get is a blank. The last record of a walker being at Buckaringa is from 10 days ago. And I’m sure the tracks are fresher than that! It’s a conundrum. And one that I decide, hours later, that the biker is not involved with. And that’s that.

Around me, the walk is following an old vehicle track, occasionally adjacent to craggy cliffs. The plains are once again vast and the vegetation a mix of sennas, hakeas and acacias. What I suspect would usually be a dusty, dry paddock is a rich and lush which the kangaroos are eagerly taking advantage of.

I reach a creek and spot a perfect place to have a rest. Shady, nice little log to sit on, scenic. Can’t ask for more than that. I take my pack off, get out my lunch, sit on the log and prepare to take a load off.

The flies alert me first. Followed by a sharp tang of a smell. I look around, and right beside where I have put my bag is a recently decaying kangaroo. Talk about observant! Shortest. Break. Ever.

The next section of the day is spent back in the creeks. This time of increasing difficulty the further up the gorge you went. Often the rock scrambling was made a little harder by the pools of water at the base of the climb.

A large white rock wall is the gateway to the rest of the day’s walk. The hills. Now I had known that I was going up Mt Arden today. So it was probably foolish of me not to have a look at what I should expect in terms of the climb. Because I wasn’t expecting this.

It was oh so gorgeous. And oh so tough. Once you climb your first hill, you can see the telecommunications tower on the top of Mt Arden shining like a beacon in the distance. In between. Hills. And each one alarmingly getting bigger and bigger and bigger. And there is not a thing you can do, except just keep walking. And so, you do.

The biggest hill is saved for last. This is an excessively steep, gravelly, two part sucker that’s going to take you to the top. Come on. Come on. You can do this!

It’s a very strange mixture of emotions at the top. I sob. And it’s a sob of relief and pride and exhaustion and joy and exhilaration and disbelief. And a touch of self belief. And a touch of loneliness.

I had been planning on calling some of my support crew from up there. But I just couldn’t. This was a moment for me and me alone. Even sitting here writing about it now, makes me a bit teary. Such is the power of the achievements made on the trail.

Besides that, I was starving and keen to get into camp. It was a couple of km down a very steep track on the southern side of the mountain. And then, like a vision. A table and chair set up. And a fireplace with seats. And a lovely, grassy flat spot down near the river, teeming with afternoon warmth and light. I felt like Snow White in my own little fairytale, as there were kangaroos, goats and birds frolicking all over the place.

Boy oh boy it was nice just to sit in the sun for a little while. Just sit and reflect and feel the warmth on my back. Time now to prep up for tomorrow. It’s set to be a very long day.

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.

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.

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.

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.