Day 10 – Buckaringa to Mt Arden Sth Camp – 23.4km

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.