Tag: Blog

Total Distance – 409km

A Heysen Trail story

If you’d told me 22 days ago that I could walk the 32km into Crystal Brook and be there by 2pm I would have just about fallen over laughing. But, as it turns out, it appears that now I can. The reason for my haste was three-fold.

1. Town. Self explanatory.

2. Weather. It was a wild and wooly night last night. Wind howling through the trees keeping me awake. I feared not only for my tent, which remains structurally compromised in two locations, but for myself! The campsite is set under a stand of big, old eucalypts, many of which are sprouting numerous dead limbs.

These magnificent trees are able to “drop” their dead limbs in an effort to better direct resources to the healthy parts of the tree. Wind is known to excacerbate this limb felling. And so eucalypts, as beautiful and shady as they are, represent a danger to campers on a windy night. The trees loudly creaked and groaned all night. But no fallen limbs. Luckily.

This morning the sky was a gun metal grey and the fizzle of impending rain hung in the air. The wind still whooshed through the paddocks. All of this prompted me to declare that I was putting my headphones on and “going for it”.

And so I did. And I loved it! The rain started immediately upon setting off casting a dark pall over the almost unnaturally green fields. The wind sucked up, seemingly delighting in pushing me along at maximum speed and tossing me around like a fluttering lolly wrapper on the city street. But how much fun it was! I realised I was laughing out loud at the joy of it. The feeling that Nature itself was trying to help me along on my quest. I snapped a picture hoping to capture that utterly carefree moment forever.

3. Terrain. It was all down, down, down. Either that or flat. The first half of the day was through the green pastures mentioned above. Rippling like a shimmering skin in the gusty wind. The second section, after reaching the highway, wasn’t as great. This included a 4km road detour, taking in the dilapidated looking Bowmans Hut, and navigating through the golf course and caravan park into town. On the plus side, it all went very quickly.

And so I arrived at the Crystal Brook Hotel eager to check in to my little piece of luxury for a couple of days. I spoke with the bar staff and joked “a single room….it doesn’t mean it has a single bed does it?” A stony look. “A single room means a single bed”. I wanted luxury! “Oh, in that case is there any chance of upgrading to a room with a bigger bed. I’m happy to pay”. A stony look. “I’ll have to check the bookings”.

I could see the open bookings diary sitting right in front of me. I could see the name “Mel” clearly written there as the only name in the book. I waited. After consulting the book I was told a room was available. “And it’s just up there”, the staff member told me, pointing up. “Sounds great!” I smiled.

The business concluded I was given an outline of how to get to my room. I happily trudged up the stairs, dreaming of my shower. I went past door after door of open, empty rooms. A single here. A twin. A queen and a single. Another single. Finally I get to my room and fall inside. Hang on!! What!! No bathroom! I retrace my steps and realise that the women’s bathroom is as far as humanly possible from my room. Perhaps I shouldn’t have asked for a bigger bed.

I got on with things. Had a shower in the single women’s shower, caught up with the head of my support crew, and had a yummy dinner in the pub. A good night had, I drifted off to sleep around 8pm.

To be suddenly jolted awake by the dulcet tones of “Hotel California” blasting up the fire escape stairway right next to my room. I looked at the clock. 10pm. When did this pub close? 11pm? 12? 1? 3? Groan. Pretty Woman, I Was Made for Loving You (cut short, not popular), Old Time Rock n’ Roll, Brown Eyed Girl. Pub music at it’s finest. I was just desperate not to hear it.

I also realised that I was terribly hot. Burning up in the bed. Was I getting sick? I put my expedition clothes on and trekked to the toilet. Down the long corridor. Turn. Down the little corridor. Turn. Down the little corridor. Turn. Down the longest corridor. Right to the end.

Upon re-entering my room I spied a glowing beacon on the bed. What the!? An electric blanket. Turned up to around 100 degrees. I turn it off. In this day with the world as it is, electric blankets should be banned. Not necessary and a waste of precious resources. Mel’s opinion.

I jumped back into the bed of fire. And thought to myself “I should have stayed at the caravan park…” But then, the music abruptly stopped at 10.30pm. The bed cooled. And I eventually went back to sleep, feeling a little less perturbed. And living on a prayer that Saturday night is not a huge night at the pub….

Total Distance – 379km

A Heysen Trail Story

The day started like a champ. I had my best sleep yet in my cosy, little coccoon of a sleeping bag. So I woke a little later than usual, to find a much welcome surprise. No condensation all over my tent. The slight wind and upper elevation must have kept it at bay. So no packing up a sopping wet, heavy tent. No strapping it to the outside of the pack. No finding time during the day to try and dry it out. Dry tent equals happy Mel. And I was very, very cheery.

Now the walk. Honestly. It wasn’t my favourite day. Firstly the good stuff. Navigation was incredibly easy. Basically follow the stony road. If ever you are not sure where to go, look for the closest, biggest hill and you will spot the track. Easy.

I know some people really get into chasing bigger and bigger hills. But that’s just not my favourite style of walking. The track itself was quite nice. Bushland recovering from a fire. Lots of Acacia ligulata and witchetty bush, most of it not in bloom yet. Unfortunately it also means very little shade or old logs to sit on to take a break. That’s if you could find a spot without ants! I got bitten 3 times just taking a standing rest on the track. Little buggers!

That’s not to say it was all bad. Lovely views off to both the left and the right again when the bushland cleared a little bit. But mainly the day was about gritting the teeth and grinding up and down those hills. My brother had offered me a suggestion a couple of days ago. That when times were tough I could always say to myself “Remember the Cant”. I tried it several times. Unfortunately, it didn’t really help. I’m not sure why. It really did seem like legit advice.

Beetaloo camp currently doesn’t have any watertank, which meant hauling extra reserves. I’m glad I did though. It was a really thirsty, hard work sort of day. Hopefully I get another good sleep tonight and then a mammoth day tomorrow to get into Crystal Brook, where I will be very happily taking an extra rest day. And a pub meal or two, of course.

Total Distance – 359km

A Heysen Trail Story

What a chilly one it was last night!  I awoke this morning with ice on the tent and the landscape shrouded in a ground based mist.  The pack-up must still occur.  So freezing hands it is.

It was a long day today comparatively.  It all started out well enough.  Fairly flat road walking in between farm buildings.  The highlight for me was seeing this beautiful tree in blossom.  It’s spent flower petals glistening on the road like thousands of fish scales.  I’m not sure what it is…an apple blossom?  Cherry? Something else?  Enlighten me somebody will you?  There was quite a number of them along the track

At around the halfway point the track left the road and wound through what appeared to be a plantation of some sort.  Dead tree carcasses everywhere.  I wonder what happens to them all…Chipped or something?  Or do they just stay there, eventually rotting away? It all seemed a bit…wasteful.

With 8km to go, things become more serious.  Now we are in proper hill climbing territory.  I spy a track right up on top of a ridge in the distance and think to myself “Ummm.  Do we really have to go up that?”.

We didn’t.  We went up a little bush track instead.  But we did cross that path eventually.  Up and up, higher and higher.  And then a view!  The town of Port Pirie off to the right adorned by a haze of blue water and green plains.  A set of mountains off in the far distance.  On the right, what else but Mt Remarkable.  There, but definitely diminishing, the further I move from it.

So it was great views.  But it needed to be, because a long day ending in long uphills is really tough on the body.  I can definitely feel my fitness levels have improved out of sight.  But it’s still really hard on the feet in particular.  I must admit to staggering up the final hill to the uplifting beat of “99 Luft Balloons”.  Hey, it got me there ok!

It’s not a great campsite after a tiring day.  No table, toilet or anywhere to sit comfortably.  But it may have the ultimate sunset going for it.  Right out over the peninsular.  It’s looking promising at this stage.  Only another hour or so until I find out.  Which means it must be time for dinner…. 

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.