Thilba Thalba campsite to end of walk – 12km + 3km to accommodation in Mapleton
“Makes it! And room in the tank for more!”
Woke up refreshed and ready for the day. It’s sprinkling, but doesn’t seem too bad. I wonder what time it is? I unzip the tent and peer outside….nothing but darkness. Might just be because it’s overcast? Gonna have to turn on the phone and have a look. Phone turns on. 2.15am. Bloody hell! Phone off. Back to restless sleep.
When I wake again I can tell it’s early morning. The kookaburras are cackling. And the magpies are singing. The tent is lovely and dry. Until I spill my morning coffee inside it. Then it becomes quite wet.
It’s stopped raining! And I emerge from the tent to dripping trees and wispy clouds.
I don’t hang around. Pack up and push off. It’s wet. And it’s town day. The morning’s walking is mixed. Some areas of tremendous weeds…the downside of being just below a road I suppose. And some areas of absolute beauty. Grasstrees and wattles bursting with yellow. Easy walking, contouring around the mountain.
Grasstrees galore
I came to a lookout and watched the mists rolling in the valley. Soon, this walk will be over. I reflect that it’s such a great introduction – short distances, great signage, stunning scenery, challenges. It’s got it all, in a small neat bundle. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed myself.
Final lookout of the walkMisty morning
Too soon, I reach Delicia Rd and from here I have around 7.3km of road walking to get into the township of Mapleton and reach my accommodation. The roadwalking is quite do-able. Steep at times, but with lovely rainforest off to the side. It takes just over an hour to get into town.
I arrive at my accommodation by 11am. They are not quite ready for me. I drop my bags and head back into town for a cooked brekky of eggs on toast, pineapple juice and a coffee. By the time I get back they are done.
The afternooon is spent relaxing, figuring out what to do about my power bank (I have a plan!) and showering! Ah, the after walk shower. You just can’t beat it.
I write this from the Mapleton pub where I’m having dinner. It’s a nice old place. People are sitting apart because of Covid 19. No band here tonight. The dinner was great, and after a couple of wines I feel sleepy. Time for an actual bed!
What a wonderful day of walking! I’d had it in mind that I needed to start early. Rain was forecast for later in the afternoon and there were several creek crossings to be made in the morning which were described as being impassable if heavy. With such a short distance today, I was also hoping to get into camp and set up before the clouds burst.
Little fairy garden camp siteMorning cuppa
I was on my way by just after 7am. It was a gorgeous morning. Cloudy, brisk and perfect for walking. The first couple of kilometers led downhill toward Gheerulla falls. The track was a lovely mix of eucalypts, palms and grass trees interspersed with purple flowering pea.
Track down to the fallsA constant companion on the walk
At the bottom of the mountain, I veered off for a quick detour to the falls. They were running briskly, steamy mist rising from the surface.
More morning contemplation…of a watery nature
Back on the track, I followed the creek for several kilometers. This was primo walking. Nice and flat, variety of vegetation, pools of murky water, heaps of birdlife. I crossed the creeks with no problem – no wet feet, though I imagine after some rain there could be some issues.
Such a beautiful, flat walking trackCrossing one of the creeks – sans rainMorning tea break – right before the first of the showers hit
Heading slightly uphill, I came to a small clearing with an expansive view. Time for a break. As I watched, the clouds rolled in and it began to sprinkle. It wasn’t heavy, and served to create an eerie atmospheric mist through the forest.
The track started to rise higher. Now there were numerous yellow wildflowers and bristly banksias. From here, it was a steep climb back up to the top. Lots of switchbacks made it really manageable, and with plenty of time, I rested as much as I wanted to. It was a great workout none the less.
Eventually, I was right up high again. A break in the trees provided the opportunity for an amazing view off into the distance. I could see rain clouds on the way.
View point gets higher and higher and higher and higher!Rain clouds on their way
At the top, I reached Thilba Thalba lookout and was able to see the mountain I had descended in the morning; the creek I had walked alongside; and, the ginormous mountain I had climbed. I love it when you can see where you came from.
View from Thilba Thalba lookoutIt’s getting more and more cloudy!
On the way to camp I started reflecting on why I love walking so much. I’ve thought this before, but it was reinforced again today. It’s because it makes me feel like I have a superpower. For every step I take, that feeling grows. It means that I have made some good decisions, that I’ve been fit enough, that I’ve had the will power and the want to succeed. It means that I’ve moved out of my comfort zone, and at times, put myself in moments of deep discomfort. Each step is an achievement. And each step makes me feel invincible. It’s an amazing feeling being able to rely fully on yourself.
I reached camp around 12.30pm and quickly began the task of setting up my tent.Nice hot lunch, and a trip to the viewing platform where it was windy, dark and grey. Not long after, the first fat droplets of rain splattered down on to the picnic table. Retreat! Retreat! and into the tent I bustled.
View from the campsite
That was at about 2.30pm. The rain drizzled on for about 3 hours before tapering off for a bit. I took the chance to don my raingear and head outside. Nothing to see here. Wet, wet, wet. I managed to get to the bathroom before the floodgates opened again. Small mercies.
Back in the tent…and this time for the long haul. There’s only so much you can say about it. Cooking, gearing up for bed, boredom…all in a cramped space. Nothing to be done.
View from the tent
I had been hoping to listen to a couple of podcasts before bed. No such luck. My brand new power bank died unexpectedly. I had gotten an Anker based on the reviews, but for some reason, this one seems like a dud. Trouble charging and now this…I’m gonna have to look for a replacement before the next walk.
So time to turn off the phone to conserve battery (no reception anyways), read the kindle and snooze. I kept thinking just how lucky I was – to be warm and dry, whilst the rain pelted down outside. What a feeling, to be warm, fed, and safe.
Final thought….this has to be a wombat head doesn’t it?
Flaxton Walkers Camp to Ubajee Walkers Camp – 14km
“Wait what?! I’m here already!”
People who know me know that I have one innate fear…rodents. (Well that and semi trailers moving without the back attached – thanks Terminator). I am absolutely shit scared of the busy, scrabbly, gnawy little critters.
And I saw one. Last night. At around 6pm. That was it – I jumped in my tent and didn’t come out. That’s a long night of staying alert to any potential activity…ready to hit the torch at a moments notice! I must have tired myself out with stress, cos I fell asleep about 8.30pm and didn’t wake till 5am. For campers on an air mattress – you’ll know that is one long, uninterupted kip!
So I was off early again. It was a beautiful walk down to Baxter Falls. A soft gradient and stunning scenery. The falls were lovely. Gushy and rocky. But a bit too cold and early for a swim.
Morning cuppa!Now you see it…Now you don’t!Track down to Baxter FallsMorning contemplationFunky lil swing bridge at Baxter Falls…who doesn’t love a good bridge when they are walking!
Next up, a long climb back uphill. But how good it was! So many lovely switchbacks, it really was rather pleasant. Nothing like the straight up and down horrors of the Great North Walk.
One of the downsides of being a ranger (and let’s be honest, there are very few) is the ability to spot weeds in what looks like a pristine environment. Amazing how well they thrive, whatever the circumstances. There wasn’t heaps – mostly Lantana and William Taylor – but enough to remind me of work!
At the top of the hill, I commenced a short road walk into the Mapleton Falls picnic ground. Nice footpath. No dramas.
The area hosts a picnic ground and lookout, with an amazing view off into the distance. I had been planning to have lunch here, but it was way too early, so after a quick stop, headed off again.
From here to the campsite, the walk was beautiful and flat and beautiful and scenic. Palm forests that reminded me of home, towering eucalypts, ephemeral creeks.
Creek crossing in the palm forest. Massive eucalypts
There was a poignant moment when I came across a memorial garden of sorts. One stick had been planted for each Australian who has died of Covid 19. A little card kept tally of the date and the numbers. It was quite sureal seeing it, out in what seemed like the middle of nowhere, and a stark reminder that things are simply not good with the world.
Covid 19 stick memorial. One stick for each death in Australia.
I made my campsite by 12.30pm. Again, really nice choice of spots. I cooked up some cous cous for lunch, blew up my sleeping matt, and lay out on a table for a read and a nap. I’m reading “The Running Man” at the moment. My brother and I absolutely loved the movie as youngsters, and I must say that I am really enjoying the book!
The rest of the afternoon consisted of taking half of my possessions to the Ubajee Lookout, soaking in the warmth, and enjoying the sinking of the sun. Pastels, pinks and oranges were subtle in the sky. I ate my dinner just as the sun disappeared behind the mountain.
Sunny afternoonFilters into duskDescends into eveningLast lightDinner time
Back at camp, I wrestled with the night noises. Once more, I was the sole occupant of the campsites, and I envisaged an army of rodents making plans to attack my campsite as soon as I let my guard down….
With some words from the head of my support crew, I rallied. I couldn’t go to bed at 6pm again! Distraction! Thats what I needed! I unpacked my headphones, put on the tunes, and belted out the songs like nobody was listening. Which they weren’t. I resolved to conquer my fear by visiting every campsite and dancing on every table. Which I did. Crisis averted! I was in bed by 7.30pm.
Lake Baroon to Flaxton Walkers Camp – 16.9km + Montville Apartments to Baroon Dam – 5km
“Just Cruising”
I had a really nice time in Montville. It’s a lovely little mountain town, full of quirky shops and eateries. Had an early dinner with the eye on the prize of heading back to my room and lighting the fire. Mission accomplished. It felt like a very luxurious way to start the walk.
Fire and wine…not too shabby!
Although I had set my alarm for 7am, I bounded out of bed at the crack of dawn..literally. With a 5km walk to get from my accommodation down to the start point, I decided to get on my way.
The air was crisp and cool. Vapour breath. The first few km passed very quickly with lots of interesting houses and roadside markets to look at. My alarm going off scared the shit out of me!
I came to an intersection and was told there was to be a very steep descent for the next 2km. They weren’t wrong! But slow and steady and it was fine. And I was incredibly grateful I wasn’t going the other way…that would have been a hellish way to begin or end the walk!
Before long I arrived at the start point. Immediately it was beautiful. Luscious green and soft underfoot.
Back on track!
The track was lovely. Well marked, and for the most part fairly flat. I’ve struggled with my AARN bags over the years…wrong size for one and then breakages on another. But boy oh boy was I pleased that I went with my gut and got another one. This time – the Featherlite Freedom. They may look weird. They may cause a few sniggers. But man, when they are working, it’s like magic. So much weight, and you barely feel a thing. Yep, magic I tells ya.
Highlights of the morning included a couple of lookouts. Red rock and green dappled with the morning sun. A soft, green river framed by the surrounding trees, but sluggish and dangerous looking in it’s stillness. The rocks and spray of Kondawilla falls. Big, fat monitor lizards basking in the sun. The crack of the whipbird, the melody of the whistler and the cackle of the kookaburra. And numerous opaque blue waterholes.
Pool at “The Narrows” lookout Slimy green river, but oh how beautiful! Crazy colourLovely grassy track…where does it lead?Playing chicken with a big, fat monitor lizard
Right before lunch, after a set of steep stairs, I was able to stop in at “The Rockpools” where I took the opportunity to refresh in the freezing water.
The “Rockpools”Never pass up the opportunity to soak your poor, old feet
I made it to the Kondawilla picnic ground by lunchtime, feeling really pleased with my steady pace. From here, I had less than 5km to campground. In the spirit of making sure that I enjoy this walk more than I was able to on the Great North Walk, I pulled out my stove and cooked up some noodles for lunch. A couple of kookaburras and a couple of bush turkeys were my companions. My very eagle eyed companions.
I set off again. Another road walk. Not too bad though. Before long I exited the road and was back in the bush. Quick call to the head of my support crew and I sauntered off for the final km to camp.
View from a section of the road walk
The campsite is really nice. There are about 12 spaces. All really private and framed by ferns. Although there was heaps of day walkers out today, it appears that I am to be the only camper here for the night. I can already tell that I am going to be a little creeped out by the night noises…
In a post covid world the PCT dream is shattered. I take solice on the Sunshine Coast Great Walk
How’s everyone doing? It’s been a hell of a ride, hasn’t it…
I must say, I’ve been struggling a bit. It’s all a little…overwhelming. I’ve found it terribly hard to step back from the dream of the PCT. The planning, the prep, the all consuming thoughts, the training, the adventure. Though on the other hand, I’ve watched in horrid fascination from the beautiful safety of Norfolk Island and said to myself over and over….”Thank God I’m not there. Thank God I’m not there….”.
It’s all left me a bit down. I see you nodding. “Join the club Mel”. I know, I know. But this is MY story.
You may recall that I free-wheeled after realising the PCT was a no go. I had plans to go to Western Australia and try the Bibbulman Track. Followed by walking the length of New Zealand on the Te Araroa. Neither of those things are happening. Borders closed. Instead, I’ve snuck (hey, hey…not literally…I’ve followed all the rules!) into QLD. I’ve grabbed all my brand new gear that’s been anxiously waiting for me since March, and I’m going to hit a few walking tracks.
First sight of the new gear!
So, adorned in my mask, I’ve left the safety of Norfolk and flown into Brisbane. Selfish?? I don’t know. It’s an argument that’s been circling in my head since I made the decision. In my mind, it’s a calculated risk. Others may not agree. All I can do, is my best.
Travelling…corona style
The International Terminal was terribly creepy in it’s loneliness. No buzz and bustle. Just sombre silence. A stark reminder of the state of the world at the moment. Perhaps the only positive, free booze on the plane. However, even I – lover of red wine, am able to say with certainty – I wish things were normal. And that I wish I had had to pay.
I saw my family! Well, the majority of them. Mum, Dad, sister, husband, niece, nephew. It was wonderful! Because you worry. And you stress. When you’re at a distance. But this was all so…normal. We picniced and played cards and danced and checked out all the new kid’s stuff. Just what the doctor ordered. The only down side…. My brother and my fella missing from the party. However, they are fulfilling the most important function of all – the care of Bronte the wonder dog. Respect men!
Little freedoms…so unbeliveably good to see the family!
This morning I set off on the train to get started on my walking holiday. The Sunshine Coast Great Walk is the first cab off the rank.
Ready and raring to go!
My family often say that I always seem to attract “interesting” people to me…Case in point….First off, a fellow directly behind me who was singing “swing lo! sweet chariot” over and over again. Not the whole thing. Just that line. And in a voice which really didn’t have much of a timbre to it. He got off the train after about 15 excrutiating minutes.
Next up, a young “metrosexual” type who seemed to be crackling with energy. He sat across the isle from me. At one point he said to me “Look I’m just going to be filming something over here…be assured the camera is pointed at me though”. Oh, just a bit of scenery filming I thought. “No worries. Go ahead”. Turns out this guy was making a half hour video for his “millions” of YouTube followers. An expert in “supreme confidence”, this guy was an officianado in religion, the vortex method, and…confidence. There were mantras galore – he unexpectedly received 65 thousand dollars over the course of three days! And miracle after miracle! And all you have to do is pay 10% of your income! He’ll accept the money. He’s a priest. And will invest it wisely in others. His video was halted when another passenger exclaimed “Did God let you know that you’re annoying all the other passengers!” End of You Tube video. Sad for his millions of followers.
So, now I am in Montville. A little village high on the hill with vast views out to the coast. It’s cold and delicious. I’m packed and ready. 58km and around 5km to get to the start point. 3 nights and 4 days.
I absolutely CANNOT wait! This has been like an itch that I just can’t scratch. I need to get something out of my system. Have an opportunity to rethink. Come up with some new goals. The PCT feels like a lost dream I’m afraid. Time to scratch the itch!
“You’ll be off on the adventure of a lifetime”. That’s what my Pacific Crest Trail permit tells me. When I try to explain this to others – friends, family, strangers – there is a different set of responses. Mouths aghast, eyes wide, more often than not with a confused, quizzical expression, people breathe “You’re doing…what?!” Invariably, this is followed by a quick…”Why?”.
The easy way to respond is to shrug my shoulders and coolly reply “Because I can”. This I do, because the real why, the why that’s driven me here, is still a buried secret which I’m not yet ready to fully articulate. “On the trail” I keep telling myself. “On the trail” I’ll be ready to explain it all…
Unsatisfying explanation in hand, people nod like they understand fully and proceed to give me their honest, if occasionally somewhat unjustified opinions….”That’s crazy!”, “That’s dangerous!”, “That’s so cool!”, “I can’t believe it…that’s amazing!”, “What a waste of a holiday!”, “That’s so inspiring!”, and time and time again “You’re going alone….Won’t you be scared?”.
Yes, I’ll be scared. Yes, I’ll be alone. Yes, it will be crazy. Yes, it could be dangerous. Yes, it will be cool. Yes, it will be amazing. And yes, I will feel inspiring. That’s how walking long distances makes me feel. Like the slowest roller-coaster in the world hurtling out of control. Like I can master destiny. Or destiny can master me. There’s nothing else in the world that makes me feel like thru-hiking does.
So, I have 3 and a half months before I begin. Mexico to Canada – 4200km of solid heartache, joy, boredom, freedom, pain and euphoria. I hope I can get to the start line….
