Cooloola Great Walk Archives - Melly Takes a Walk

Cooloola Geat Walk – Day Five

Kauri Walkers Camp to Carlo Carpark – 14km

“Rat attack”

I did not sleep well. I always leave my bag outside, and am very careful about putting all my scraps in my Opsak bag (apparently no odour). However, I was lying in my bed trying restlessly to sleep when I heard a crinkle, crinkle. Snap on the torch. Nothing. But now I’m wired. I should have moved my bag inside. But I didn’t. Again with the restless sleeping. And again with the crinkle, crinkle. I sat bolt upright and looked outside. Nothing. Looked at my bag with the torch through the mesh, and holy mother of god there is a hole in the mesh! Those little….shits.

I moved the bag inside , but then had another problem…what if the rat had gone into the bag and now I had inadvertently transferred said rodent inside! I started sweating at the thought. And tossing and turning. And tossing and turning. There was no rodent. But I slept the sleep of a woman facing her worst fear. That is to say, I didn’t sleep well.

Packed up, I got away a little later than usual. Most of the group had already left before me.

Lovely track on the last day of the walk

As I walked I was thinking about the connections between the small group of people I had been walking with. Pauline, avid plant lover and horticulturist is friends with folks on Norfolk. I had drinks with one of them a couple of weeks ago. The sister, Catherine, self assured and also a horticulturist knows the mother of the two Greek sisters.

Travelling with the Greek sisters is Paul and Angela, who have bought plants from the nursery in Kyogle where Pauline works. They also walked the Great North Walk just before me, and I’m sure I remember seeing their names in the walkers logs. It was geat to reminisce about it all. Poor Andrew is the fifth in that group, whom I fear will find his walk story eclipsed by the fact that he forgot to bring the car keys with him for their ride home. They have a dinner booked at a 4 star restaurant – at 4.30pm – to celebate the finish of the walk…it all depends on whether they can break into the car or not. I really hope they made it…

Back on the walk, and I came upon Sophie and Lauren. Close to 30’s, this was their first long hike, and they had been doing extraordinarily well. Seeing the gear and excitment reminded me of me way back when. It was really cool. Both girls had big, hearty, joyous laughs, that made me smile more than once on hearing them at the campsites. They were a breath of fresh air after being camped alone for so long.

Anyway, I caught up to them, and this is the story that they told….

Lauren was lying in bed and thought that Sophie was “strangely caressing my arm”. Sophie asked “Did you just touch my foot?”. “No!”. “OMG – there’s something in the tent!”. That something turned out to be a rat.

An emergency conference was held outside the tent, and a cunning plan devised. Using blocking tunnels, lolly food lures and pure balls, they would extradite this rat from the tent! If this had been me, I would have been a piddling mess, moaning in a heap in the dirt. These girls used their wits and humour to defeat the beast. I think both will be long distance hikers for life.

Sophie and Lauren – outwitted the rat, and likely hikers for life

After hearing this story and feeling both enormously bemused and horrified, I moved on. The majority of us met up a Lake Poona, a beautiful little spot that would have been great for a swim…if only it wasn’t so cold and we were all itching for town.

Carlo sandblow was the final feature of the walk. It was a weird ending. It’s a long weekend in QLD and the sandblow was crawling with people come to visit. It felt confronting, after all that solitude, to see so many people. I took a couple of snaps and quickly left.

Carlo sandblow – no pristine sand here. Check out all the tracks!

And then I finished the walk! There was no fanfare. I didn’t even take a photo – there was so many people around. I saw Paul and Angela and the gang and wished them well. I then headed for my accommodation, and a nice break before I head to K’gari tomorrow.

Cooloola Great Walk – Day Four

Littoria Walkers Camp to Kauri Walkers Camp – 21km

“Leg stretch achieved”

I was excited about today – the chance to put myself to the test a little bit and stretch the legs with a 21km hustle.

Again, I was away first. I dawdled down the hill. I had walked this way yesterday looking for an advertised lake in which I thought I might swim. No way of getting to the lake, so I returned to camp empty swim handed.

Today’s stroll was a walk in thirds. The first third consisted of some moderate ups and downs in burnt dry sclerophyl forest. Honestly, nothing really spectacular here. But a nice enough walk.

Having lived out at Uluru for 10 years, I was lucky enough to be taught some tracking skills by the indigenous Traditional Owners. I always enjoy using this skill when I’m hiking and trying to interpret the goings on behind the scenes. It has been disappointing, though not unexpected to see so many cat tracks as I’ve been walking. Huge problem. World over.

Distinctive round paw print of the cat and tell-tale tail drag of a wallaby

The second third of the walk was through intensely beautiful rainforest, fragrant with honey, and all on a steady downwards incline. Gorgeous walking. And very reminiscent of home.

This point marked the start of the rainforest walking.

The final third was back to sandy heath and dry forest. Nothing too difficult. The 20km seemed to fly by, though I was happy enough to reach camp and set up for the evening.

The campsite was in lush rainforest, and to my great pleasure, I found a site that had a natural backrest. Perfect!

I allowed myself to think about the PCT a bit today. Allowed myself a little cry at the loss of it. I haven’t really let myself do that yet. It’s not off the cards forever, but it is for now. I find myself wondering whether I could have achieved the ultimate goal. Lamenting the friendships that I never made. The joy of doing something solely for me for 6 months – I regret not being able to do that. Secretly I think I would have made it. But, for now, we’ll never know. I’ve put it back on the shelf – as a dream…maybe one day.

Meanwhile back at camp, I know that I have a couple of hours up my sleeve before the others arrive. I put my headphones on, turn it up full bore, and dance and sing my heart out. I’ve missed doing that!

Cooloola Great Walk – Day Three

Dutgee Walkers Camp to Littoria Walkers Camp – 15km

“Short and sweet”

Remember how I said that I was really enjoying sleeping with the tent fly off? Well that ended at about 2am this morning with the pitter patter of rain dropping onto my sleeping bag. Thankfully, not too heavy.

I could tell I was first out of camp this morning because the track was spanned by hundreds of fine spun, shimmering spider webs. The rain last night had caused a delicious mist to hover over the dew sparkling plain.

I turned a corner and stopped dead in my tracks. Colour, as far as the eye could see. Yellows, pinks and whites. The white trunks of the paperbarks shining off in the distance. Misty tentacles gracefully rising into the air. My eyes teared with the beauty. The privilege of being the one and only person to see that beautiful sight at that moment. Its why you hike…for these moments. Moments that take hard work and effort. But moments that are yours and yours alone.

Have to put the hard yards in to see this beautiful field

Eventually I ripped my eyes away and got moving.

It was an easy day of walking. Short distance. Moderate hills. Although I had promised I would take it easy, once I had that pack on and the sticks in my hands, I just wanted to go. So go, I did. I arrived in camp around 11.30am. Job done

Cooloola Great Walk – Day Two

Brahminy Walkers Camp to Dutgee Walkers Camp – 19km

“Somewhere, over the sand blow”.

An uneventful night. I’m enjoying sleeping with the rainfly off when I can, and watching the moon, stars and clouds from my bed. Dawn breaks, and I’m up.

Though not first to be moving around, I’m the first to leave, which I’m rather smugly pleased about. Today we go over the Cooloola sandblow, and I want to see it at it’s most pristine glory – before all those feet have trodden over it. Yes, That’s right. I want to be first!

But before we get to that, we have the morning’s walking. Which was wonderful. Straight off the bat, the track wound through forests of scarred scribbly gum and burnt grass trees. Winding in and out of the forest and interspersed with glorious views to the coast.

At one such point, I sat and had the first break of many for the morning. The sun was glinting on the ocean, and the offshore breeze was causing the waves to mist at each roll. The sound was loud and definite, even from so high up.

From the ridgetop, the track dropped down into a damp, dark gully with rainforest species reminiscent of the walk I had just completed. Another good spot for a break.

From here, the vegetation was mixed. Every area of this forest has been influenced by fire. Sometimes it looks like the fire was a long time ago, and the understory has come back thick, varied and lush. Sometimes, there is evidence of burning not so long ago, with young eucalypts and banksias jostling each other for space to grow. And sometimes it looks like the fire was very recent, with no understorey to speak off and bohemith trees blackened to the very tips of their extended limbs.

Banksias love a little bit of fire…but not too much! And not too hot!

Suddenly, I come round a corner, and there it is! The Cooloola sandblow in all its’ glory. This sandy desert is vast and beautiful. Signs warn that it is very easy to get lost. One must follow a compass bearing of 340 degrees for 750m before switching to 160 degrees for another 300m. There’s good pictures of where to go though, and it’s actually not that hard.

The Cooloola Sandblow…I’m aiming for that vegetated dune at the back

Despite this, the sense of space, lack of features and exhilarating aloneness makes me feel like an explorer from another age. I spend ages trying to get photos, but capturing that feeling is impossible.

In fact it ends up that there is so much glare on my camera, I can’t see a bloody thing of what I am taking! It was just point and shoot and hope for the best. It’s surprising any of them came out at all!

So then I begin the task of trudging across the dunes. It’s not that hard. Rather exhilarating in fact. But tougher than normal at times in the soft sand. The soft, pristine sand I should say! Yes, I was the first one!

From here it’s down a ridgeline before the track begins parralleling the meandering Noosa River.

I used to be a tour guide on K’gari more than 20 years ago, and as I’m walking this stretch, long forgotten words begin entering my head like ethereal mists. Words like fox tail fern, Baronia rivularis, turpentine, satinay, casuarina, lemon myrtle. It’s slowly coming back to me, and I enjoy matching plants with these long forgotten names.

The pink flower is the beautiful Baronia rivularis, or Dutgee in the local language

I reach camp at around 2pm. Plenty of time to jump in the river and have a freezing splash around. I sit in the warming sun, trying to dry off, and enjoy watching the reflections on the water as the sun begins to sink. Life is good.

Afternoon reflections…and a bloody cold swim!

Cooloola Great Walk – Day One

Start of walk to Brahminy Walkers Camp – 17km plus a few km towards the ferry before I was offered a ride.

“The advantages of looking at your map”

I had a really lovely couple of days resting and preparing for the Cooloola walk. The Eden B&B at Mapleton was really nice…in some ways, a little too nice…At times I just prefer an anonymous room when I need to unpack and repack everything – especially if I want to dry out my things a little bit. This felt just a little too pleasant for that! Managed to throw the tent fly on a railing to dry, but the rest stayed as was.

Also the bed. The bed was luxuriously comfortable. Exquisite sheets. But it felt a bit…cold…couldn’t snuggle in properly. The breakfast was bloody beautiful though. And the owners were really nice and friendly.

I decided to taxi it down to Tewantin. 45 minute drive, so a bit of a hefty fare, but hell – this is exactly what I save my contingency money for! My driver was a lovely, friendly female. Had some killer stories to tell about some of her fares, to the point where we were both rolling around in our seats with laughter! She says she will write a book about it one day.

I arrive at my little apartment in Tewantin. Now this is more my style! Stand-alone so I could spread all my gear out, wicked painting, and a bath to die for. I feel comfy already.

There is no way that tub is not going to be used

I head into town, pick up a new power bank and supplies. Couple of sparkling wines and then home to try out the tub. To be honest, it kind of looked a little better than it actually was…took forever to fill and was only luke warm. Oh well. Beggars can’t be choosers I suppose.

Walked back into town for dinner and was treated to an absolutely stupendous sunset. Pizza at the pier and then home and into bed. Cosy as. Oh so cosy. And so warm.

So now we finally get to the walk. Gear into pack, and pack out the door. I walk alongside the river, through a park and down the street to get to the ferry which will take me across to the start of the walk. A car drives past. Then reverses. “You headed to the ferry? Because we are too!”. I jump eagerly into the car.

Turns out the two sisters were starting the walk as well and that we will be camped in the same spot each night. They are also headed to K’gari on the same day – so it was a fortuitous meeting!

We arrived and got started. I headed off beforehand, because I know I am a fast walker, and I enjoy walking alone.

Immediately I began winding my way through a thick paperbark forest. Orange triangles marked the way. Leaving the forest, the plains opened up into expansive heathland. Yellow and pink flowers bloomed. Birds raced from one side of the track to the other. It was a wonderful way to commence the walk.

And the first of many spectacular heaths

The track then descended down onto the beach. It was a magical day, and the ocean sparkled blue. Light waves rippled, and would have been perfect for body surfing, if I had been there for another reason. But I wasn’t. I was there to walk. So walk I did.

At this stage, pleased with the how things are going

Straight up the beach and straight past the turnoff I was supposed to take. By the time I thought about it and pulled the map out, it was too late. I’m going to tell you, and you only…I didn’t turn back. I headed straight up the beach, resolving to just keep going until I got somewhere I could jump back on the track.

The error of my ways can clearly be seen!

So, dodging speeding 4WD’s galore, I continued. It wasn’t too bad. The sand was nice and hard for the most part. And the majority of vehicles kept their distance. Except for one dick who forced me to walk in the water. Dick.

Eventually I came to a spot that joined up with the walking track, so I moved back off the busy beach, and plunged back into the forest. It was a relief.

Back in heathland, the track led uphill through gnarled, old banksia trees. On the left, views opened up onto a huge lake, stretching as far as the eye could see. I reached the high point and had my first break watching the waves in the distance.

From here, it was only a few km to camp. This time through black stumped eucalypts and spiky green juncus. It was lovely and flat, though at times sandy underfoot, temporarily slowing down the forward progress.

I reached camp at around 2pm and found a lovey spot amongst the trees. Unlike my other solitary outings, people arrived in dribs and drabs. There are to be 10 of us moving through this walk together and socialising each night. Makes a real change for me! I’ve enjoyed the conversations – and its kept me up till 6.30 and only just finished dinner!

The sunset glowed orange over the lake, and we all appreciated the day’s last rays. With groaning legs, folks dispersed to their campsites, leaving me here to write, and contemplate the day.