Great North Walk – Day 3

Jungo Campsite to Mt Wondabyn campspot

Distance: Backtrack to Thornleigh station (2.75km); Train travel to Woy Woy; Taxi to Patonga; Patonga to Mt Wondabyn campspot (14.25km)

“Reset. Deep Breath”

Morning arrives. I can hear the adjacent creek gushing with water. I know before I even see it that I am not walking forward from this spot today. I make my coffee and think. An internal battle rages. On one hand, it is like nature itself has now given me permission to quit – hell, now I’m literally blocked from going forwards! On the other, I am so furious with this thing, that I can’t stand the thought of letting it beat me. I make my decision.

” Blocked by flooded creeks. Have moved north to avoid. xx”

message to my support crew.

I pack up. My bag breaks. A great, big chunk of the metal frame comes off, split in two. I stare at it. And laugh. Fuck you trail. Fuck. You. I shove the bits in my bag and get going. Retracing steps. Back to the station. I take great pleasure in shoving the bits of my broken bag in the bin as I wait for the train. Half an hour later I’m in Woy Woy and not long after, relaxing in the front seat of a cab.

Another of the joys of thru hiking is those little moments of human connection. These become particularly memorable when you’ve been alone for a while. I sat back and listened to my driver talk. His dog had just died, bitten by a snake. He was visibly sad, and regaled me with stories of his heroic, sometimes mischievous, and always there for him, pooch. As we climbed to the crest of a hill, he explained that just the previous day, the bushland on that hill had been littered with bright red warratahs. Someone had come and stolen them, snipped them off and taken them during the night. We both shook our heads in unison at such a willful destruction of beauty.

We arrived in Patonga and he exited his cab to come and pick up my bag from the boot. “My, oh my” he said to me. “That’s a heavy bag!”. I didn’t disagree. He wished me well and drove away, leaving me to reflect that the half an hour in the cab may have been the high point of the walk so far. That lovely man hadn’t even commented on all my coughing.

Patonga is stunning. I nab a picnic table and spread my wet items out to dry. I have a mantra going through my head “Reset. Deep breath. Reset. Deep breath” and I use it to try and calm the adrenaline that has spurned me on to this point. I eat a cracker or two, kick back, and enjoy the scenery. Before long I feel ready. I gather my things and walk to the eastern end of the beach. Here is the entry point to the Brisbane Rivers National Park. I begin to climb.

I reach a viewing platform. There are several groups of people and I offer to take photos for each group. Whilst they all take me up on this offer, nobody thinks to ask me if I would appreciate a similar service. People hey? I don’t realise it at the time but these are the last humans I would see for a couple of days.

A series of fire-trails follow. I’m humming along to a tune in my head when I see it. It literally stops me in my tracks. Deliciously plump and red, solid but immensely intricate, a single warratah stands stark against the dark trunk of a recently burnt eucalypt. It looks like perfection. And the view is all mine.

I continue along the trail and eventually climb a ridge up to a large rock platform. For the first time a feeling of ease comes over me. I’m up high, away from all the creeks; I can see Woy Woy way off in the distance and am self aware enough to finally acknowledge a little congratulations for some good decision making. The breeze is cool and the storm clouds in the air and puddles in the rocks evoke a sense of joy as I look around. The view is beautiful.

I descend from the rocky ridgetop, follow the fire-trails and before long I’ve made it to my campsite. I made it!! It’s such a great feeling… that I didn’t give in. That I didn’t stop. I finish drying out my things and crack into a dehydrated spag bol for dinner, happy that my appetite seems to be returning. It tastes incredible! I guess that’s what happens when you walk over 60km having barely eaten anything! I settle into my tent not long after sunset and enjoy listening to all of the night sounds, snuggled up toastie warm in my sleeping bag. The reset has definitely resulted in a deep breath.