I’m not sure what it means. All I know is that it was a truely wonderful day of walking. Epic scenery. The clearest, blue sky. Gentle, cool breeze. Pounding surf, reflecting the sky. Long beach walks. Gulls crying overhead. Reams of rocks and boulders tumbling.
It was definitely my sort of day.
I’m really glad that this oceanic section of the walk is my finale. It has calmed me, soothed me and made me long for home. A reminder of all the good things I have waiting for me on my return. And I just find it utterly spectacular.
Only three days left now. The feeling of finishing is still bizzare. I want to finish. I’m ready to see my loved ones. My gorgeous, one of a kind, little dog. My house. My friends. My island home. But even talking about finishing causes me to tear up now. I’m not even sure why…I think it’s because it’s the end of something I’ve dedicated so fully to. It’s a little scary to question “what’s next?” This has been my plan for so long. And in just a couple of days, the plan will have been fulfilled. What is going to fill all this space? What’s the next challenge going to be?
I guess I won’t find out until I finish this and start the next. So there’s another positive! Not helping I think, is that this area is a communications black hole. I haven’t been able to talk to the head of my support crew, or any of the inner circle for that matter. It’s just me and my thoughts, such as they are. Perhaps there will be some further clarity in the coming days. I hope so.
In the meantime the mission is to enjoy! The campsite is not making it easy. This is a temporary site only. There are very few flat spots and we have three tents all within 20m of each other. As I type this I am looking out over the Shangri-La…the new campsite they are building, With camping pads, toilets, kitchen shelter and seats, it’s going to be a mecca. In the meantime, we can’t even find somewhere private to go the toilet. Maybe it’s a good thing. Because this….this I won’t miss.
It really was a day of wows! The first came as I closed the door to my room this morning. “Oh wow!” I thought. “This is it!”. The next time I stay in proper accommodation, I will, in all likelihood, be finished the Heysen Trail. There is really no denying it now. This adventure is coming to an end.
I had a really restful day in Victor Harbour. Did as most any tourist would do, and walked out along the pier to Granite Island. A beautiful place of large boulders and tumultuous surf. Visited the Norfolk cafe for some lunch. There was no way I wasn’t going to do that!
Later in the day, I was really excited to catch up with Cath and Greg, as well as their friend John, famous providore of wine and chocolate. We had a lovely dinner and much great discussion. Primarily about the trail. Of course.
John, being the generous person he is, offered to drive me the 6km back out of town in the morning and drop me back at the trail. This offer I happily accepted.
Right on time he picked me up, and we were on our way. I spoke to him about the strange feelings involved in this journey coming to an end. It has been so all consuming. Such a disconnect from my normal life in so many ways. It’s difficult to know where all this drive and passion will be directed once it’s done. What will consume my thoughts and actions? Is my life just going to go back to normal? Or will it be changed in some large or subtle way that I just can’t grasp yet. It’s all rather disconcerting.
John drops me off, and I thank him for the many kindnesses he has shown me. I’m happy that fate has aligned things so that I will catch up with Greg and Cath at a campground very soon. That we will actually finish on the same day. It seems….right somehow. Rather poetic.
But for now, I’m on my own. I get started up the track. And what a track it is! Absolutely stunning scenery. Wild, blue ocean. Wind buffetting. Huge granite boulders highlighted in irridescent orange. Islands out to sea. And in the second “oh wow!!” moment of the day, sheer cliffs dropping straight down to the water, and stretching for kilometers into the distance. It really was awe inspiring.
In the distance I could see rain squalls making their way to the coast, causing the islands to become shrouded in mystery. Difficult to see. I took the time to perch on a rock, overlooking it all, and just take it in. I told the head of my support crew that “my heart felt very light.” And it truely did.
It was not a difficult 14km into camp. I was able to find a nice, private spot with a table where I was able to relax in the sun for the afternoon. I walked a pathway up to the beach and observed the trail I will follow tomorrow. It is a super simple day. It is absolutely perfect.
I woke with a start last night. My sleep fuddled mind struggling to understand what had woken me. A gunshot was going through my head. But really? Was that possible? I looked at my clock. 10.30pm. My eyes started to drift shut again.
BANG!! This time no mistaking it. The sharp crack of a rifle. The noise of it reverberating around the valley. I sat up in bed. BANG!! BANG!! Two more shots. Where were they? It sounded close. Did they know I was here? In my little tent? BANG!! A rifle shot. BOOM!! The heavier sound of a shotgun.
What do I do? What would you have done? Stay huddled in my tent, blind to where they are and where they are going? Get out of the tent? Look for them? Maybe come across them? I’m a good Aussie girl. I’ve seen Wake in Fright. Stereotype or not, the thought of running into a group of shooters, out there by myself. No one else around, was terrifying.
It goes silent for a while and I wonder if they are gone. I am genuinely frightened at this point. BANG!! BOOM!! The noise is even closer now. I hear excited dogs barking on the wind. The shots get closer and closer. At one point I realise they have passed me. But will they come back? Eventually silence. And then a car drives slowly past. Silence again.
This whole episode lasted about an hour and a half. For all I know it could have been rangers, busily controlling feral animals. With the dogs, it was probably just blokes busily controlling feral animals. But I hope that that is the first and last time I wake to the sound of gunfire smattering around me whilst I’m in my tent.
Obviously I didn’t sleep well after that. And woke up feeling really out of sorts. Sick of packing up my tent and walking.
What kept me in the game was the thought of reaching the sea today. The Great Southern Ocean. Even the name has such an air of mystery and adventure.
Once I got underway my mind started to clear. The first glimpse of the ocean and I was back to the overly excited hiker I was at the beginning. Ready to start her epic adventure. That’s how much it lifted me. My aches and pains vanished. My moodiness disappeared. And I felt a complete joy. A feeling I hadn’t experienced for a few days. It was truely a remarkable moment.
The little town of Victor Harbour is beautiful. A long esplanade dotted with Norfolk pines. Little islands sitting pretty off the coast. Old, faded seaweed washed up on the beach in abundance.
Amazing what a bit of sea air, sparkling water and a bit of Vitamin D can do!! xxx”
Message from my sister
So true! I feel like a totally new person. With a bit of time to spare I drop into a fish and chip shop on the beach and get some lunch. Afterwards, I saunter to my accommodation. It takes a little longer than I expect. There are many locals that want to talk to me about what I’ve been doing. During one such encounter a fellow riding a bike asks me if I need help in knowing where to go. He runs into a post. Very, very hard not to laugh.
And now I’m here. With a rest day tomorrow. I’m booked into a nice restaurant tonight, and I have all day to get ready for the finale.
I feel positive. I can’t wait to get stuck into it. After a rest of course…
True to my word, I slept in. Actually woke to the sound of my alarm, which I have set less than a handful of times over the course of the trip. I lie in bed wishing that I didn’t have to get up. I’m feeling tired. Longing for the rest day I have scheduled in a couple of days time.
I haven’t actually had a proper rest day since Burra, at the 600km mark. My body has been increasingly insistent that I do so. And soon. These rainy days of speeding along have definitely not been helping my cause. I look out the window. Drizzle once again.
Jayne arrives promptly at 8am with a HUGE tray of food. I happily sit on the bed and consume every morsel. The fresh grapes, strawberries and blueberries taste absolutely divine. I’m feeling good once I get started for the day.
And it’s a really fantastic day of walking, primarily through conservation reserves. The wildflowers are the highlight of the day. Absolutely brilliant in the breadth of their colour and variety. Streams and waterfalls tinkle past throughout the day. Kangaroos and birds are abundant. It’s bushwalking at it’s best.
I’m moving very slowly today. With only a week to go, my body seems to be sensing that it can start to relax a bit. Break down. Aches and strains are becoming increasingly worrisome and common. Like I said, this rest day can’t come fast enough.
I arrive in the small village of Inman Valley around lunchtime and treat myself to a sit down meal. It is so nice to sit in that warm, dry place. Watching others around me, all rugged up, and enjoying their glass of wine with their hot meal.
The meal gives me a boost, and I finish the day with a lot more energy than what I started it with. The campsite is very small, only a couple of tents would fit in here, but with a great view. I lie in my tent for a while resting, before emerging into a cool, but dry late afternoon.
This would be a really great spot for sunset, but with this much cloud around, I’m not very hopeful. Stranger things have happened though. That’s for sure.
Do you see that? 1000km! Can you believe that? I can’t and I’ve walked it!
Just a little bit proud of myself. By anyone’s standards, it’s a long way. It’s a physical battle for sure. But it’s the resilience that I’m most proud of. The internal willpower to keep going. Overcoming hardship, whether it be weather or solitude or fatigue in order to achieve a goal. A dream. My dream. Yep. I’m a proud girl right now.
The weather today consisted of another drizzly, grey mess. Cold, but not as freezing as yesterday. The whip lashing wind was missing for the most part today. Something I was very grateful for.
Still, it didn’t make for pleasant conditions to dilly dally in. The optimal course of action quickly became clear. Go, and go quickly. Enjoy the scenery, but keep going. And so I fanged it. More through circumstance than design.
This morning took me on a winding, ridgetop dirt road through a large sheep paddock. The town of Mt Compass could be seen off in the distance.
I was slowed down when I reached the Yulte Conservation Park which offered a lovely bush track up and down and around a mountain. Colourful birds were in abundance, and the clouds cleared a little for views over the nearby paddocks. Multiple waterfalls were running over the rocks. A positive outcome of all this recent rain.
At the completion of this bush track the drizzly showers really set in. It was a fairly miserable 6km or so along muddy roads to the Heysen’s Rest B&B.
I arrive wet and bedraggled to meet Jayne, the owner, who is absolutely lovely. I had texted her a few days ago about dinner options, and she had offered to get me a microwave meal – which I excitedly agreed to! She had it in her hand when she met me, and despite protestation, would not accept any money for it. She showed me my cosy little room and inquired what time I would like my breakfast.
“Oh, ummm 8am please”. “Oh”. Pause. “Ok”, Jayne replies. “Why, is that early or late?” I enquire. “Late”, Jayne confirms. But we are both happy for that, and I have a relatively short day tomorrow. Why not have a little sleep in!?
My shower is luxury. Room lovely and warm. Cup of tea and a read on my bed. Happiness doesn’t have to be complicated.
With the 1000km mark achieved, that only leaves the final goal. Finish. My head, heart, legs and feet are willing. And I’ve given myself the opportunity. Won’t be long until we all find out if I can actually achieve the ultimate goal…
Just because I’m getting to the end, doesn’t mean the tough days are over. And today was a toughie.
It rained all night, and I actually had an excellent sleep. Woke feeling refreshed and ready to go. The rain had stopped, and I was feeling great as I set off from the campground.
It may have stopped raining, but everything was soggy and wet. A biting wind chilled the air. I came across a swiftly running creek and decided to try and keep my feet dry just a little bit longer….it was just so cold!
So shoes off and across I went. Cold feet for a little while, but a lot better than sopping shoes and socks.
It didn’t take long for the rain squalls to set in. Sleety cold and fierce, bitter wind. Very unpleasant to walk in, and the bane of my day.
The trail travelled through pine forest and native stringybark tracks. I stopped at the top of Mt Magnificent for a snack, but it was too windy and cold to really enjoy it.
My approach towards the sea became more evident in the afternoon as sandy tracks through coastal heathland scrub made their first appearance.
The heaviest rain squall hit a couple of kilometers before the caravan park. I had been planning on camping, but at this point was thinking that I would do or say just about anything to get inside a cabin for the night.
I trudged into the reception area like a forlorn, wet dog. Drips of water flying off me as I moved. “Please, please, please tell me you have a cabin available” I whimpered. He looked at me for just a beat, and I was petrified he’d say no. “For you, yes we do”. I could have hugged them both!
Whilst I settled payment, Jeanette the co-owner, bustled off to the cabin to ensure it was ready for me and to turn the heat on. When I arrived there, she even asked if I needed a lift into town to get anything. I didn’t, but it was so lovely of her to ask.
Inside the cabin I shed my wet gear and jumped straight in the steaming hot shower, teeth chattering. My skin prickled as it tried to warm up. It was heaven to stand under the hot spray.
Now, a couple of hours later I’m feeling very satiated. I’m in my nice, warm, freshly laundered clothes. It’s toasty warm in here and the bed is really comfortable. I have a big bowl of oriental fried rice and I reflect that I was eminently fortunate that the rain came on a day where I could access this brilliant little cabin at the end. Very lucky really.
To top things off, I had the opportunity to have a wonderful, wonderful chat to the head of my support crew and my most fantastic, fabulous friend, Miriam, who was helping him celebrate moving into his new house. How I wished I was there to hug them both! Not long now until that will be a reality…Bring on the hugs!
Short and sweet today. Short and sweet. Exactly what my overworked body needed. A nice, flat little run and an afternoon spent resting at camp.
Pleasant walking through forestry zones and along seldom used roads. I spy numerous grey fantails which make me laugh with their bruffness and remind me of home. I take the opportunity to have a catch up chat with the head of my support crew. Not long now till we’ll see each other in person. It’s exciting.
And before I know it, I’ve reached the campground. This site is even bigger than the last and large groups of Sunday picnicers lounge by roaring fires in their deckchairs. Kids loving the opportunity to get muddy on their bikes.
I spend the afternoon making my final bookings. There is a few complications as campsites are already booked out, but in the end, I am able to work things out satisfactorily. Time to bring this thing home!!
The walk this morning is really just a background to my thoughts. I’ve been putting quite a bit of effort into trying to define what my next goals might be, and I keep coming up with three main contenders.
The first of these is around my house, which I bought almost four years ago now. In that time, I have done little to it. In fact the first “major” renovation, a new front door area, has occured whilst I’ve been on the hike! (That’s Norfolk Island for you!)
One of the things I have enjoyed most on this walk is having a look at all the interesting houses you pass on the way. My absolute favourite is the small stone cottages with whimsical gardens consisting of natives and colourful wildflowers surrounding them. It’s been really inspiring to see all the creativity and care put into some homes. So dealing some more love into my house and garden is the first thing on my agenda. This will, no doubt, also involve money. So I may have to curtail my adventures…just a little bit.
Secondly is a bit of an environmental goal surrounding meat consumption. When you come from a tiny, totally isolated place like Norfolk Island, it’s very difficult to describe the absolute culture shock of going into a large grocery store like the one in Bridgewater and viewing the sheer variety of items available for consumption. I was really impressed with the number of plant based alternatives which are available for mainstream foods now. It feels like the right time for me to explore this realm further when I get home.
And thirdly…how am I going to keep this level of fitness up? It’d be really nice…but I’m not sure it’s possible. Definitely something to think about in the next couple of weeks though.
The walk does a fantastic job of sneaking through any green space available. Even right next to busy roads. Before long I arrive in the interesting looking little town of Mylor. I consider pulling in for a bite to eat, but I’m carrying so much food, that it seems like a bit of a crime to do so. So I keep going.
On the outskirts of town I admire a large green space which is actively being regenerated. I reach the end of a bridge and find a lady, on a bike, in a high-vis vest, waiting to talk to me. “I saw you in town, and now that I’ve seen you right here, I just had to wait and have a chat with you. I love talking with adventurous souls” she says.
She points out the field where all the plant guards can be seen. “My son is responsible for all of this” she explains. “He set off on a walking trip across Australia, through the Nullabor, raising money and awareness regarding climate change actions and initiatives”. “Oh wow!” I comment. “What an amazing thing to do!” And I mean it.
The woman’s eyes go teary. Her voice hitches and shakes. She covers her mouth with her hand. Slowly she says, “He was killed on that trip. Last year. Hit by a truck. He was 21”. Her words wobble and drop off. I immediately break down in tears. In shock, loss and empathy for this woman who is gifting me her story. Strangely, she has to comfort me, rather than the other way around! How I wish I had gotten her name.
She tells me she is continuing the work her son started. Says to me “My son told me that when you are alone on one of these journeys, it is the people you meet and the kindnesses that are delivered that absolutely make the trip”. I nod because it’s true. I’ve written about it many times in this blog. We both then say at the same time “That and the scenery!” And we laugh.
She now carries muesli bars and a bit of fruit around with her, so she can offer them to solo adventurers. She offers one to me.
The majority of the afternoon is spent back in the pine forests and reserves before reaching the large Rocky Creek Campground. There is a rather interesting section which travels through a series of old mine shafts. All cordoned off now. But still, I spy three modern day prospectors out with their metal detectors and sieves, trying to reap themselves a fortune.
I set up my tent just as it starts to spit rain. It’s going to be a freezing night!
Gail arrives to pick up her stove and I enjoy chatting to her for a few moments. I just love independent women getting out there and doing something amazing for themselves. It’s really inspiring.
I have a comparatively short day tomorrow to the campsite, which I’m really looking forward to. My body is definitely feeling these 52 days a little bit. Just a little bit longer please body. Just a little way more….
“Hike Your Own Hike” or HYOH is basically the mantra of this sport. Such as there is one. It means be you. Hike the way you want to. Don’t be swayed by the crowds. This is YOUR walk…so enjoy it your way.
And today I do. I have a confession to make. I “slack-packed” it today. To the uninitiated, this means carrying a lighter load. A day pack, rather than your full kit. For some thru-hike purists, this is a “no no”. Enough to make the thru-hike invalid.
So I did put a lot of thought into this. And in the end, I decided to HMOH (hike my own hike). My reasons: 1. I’m back at the same accommodation I was at last night; 2. I’m feeling pretty knackered, both physically and mentally; 3. If I was cunning enough to set it up so I could slack-pack it (so cunning I could put a tail on it and call it a weasel….(thanks dad)), then why not? It absolutely did not make sense to me to pack up all my stuff this morning, just to come back to the same place. So slack-pack I did.
And I loved it! Honestly, if you are someone that’s not so “pure”, doing a days slack-pack on the trail is something I would really encourage. The feeling of flying. The feeling of fitness and speed. The feeling of freedom. It’s exhilarating. And fun.
I passed Cath and Greg. They had stayed at the one accommodation option near Norton Summit and had all their gear. I told them to close their eyes as I passed. It was so good to see them. Even if it was probably rather painful for them to see me!
The track was lovely. Primarily through a series of conservation reserves. I powered up and down the hills, and arrived at Mt Lofty just before lunch.
The view over Adelaide was expansive, though unfortunately, very hazy. Again, it was a time to reflect on the achievements. The distances travelled. The single-mindedness of it all. The amazement that I’m doing it. That I’ve done it. And mostly under my own steam and gumption. It’s an incredible feeling.
I go into the cafe with the intention of lunch and receive some news from home. Nanna is rallying. The antibiotics are doing their job. Her situation has improved immensely. Again, I’m amazed. What resilience from this legend of a lady. On a whim I order a glass of Prosecco. My first glass of sparkling for over 6 months. If this isn’t a reason for celebrating, I don’t know what is.
Now whether it was the result of bad signage, or, the glass of Prosecco we’ll never know. But straight after lunch I went the wrong way. Down, down, down the wrong track and upon realising, back up, up, and up again. The effervescent effect of the bubbly had definitely worn off by then. Definitely.
I took the long way round to Bridgewater through the Mount Lofty Botanic Garden. Brilliantly coloured plants and bleak looking wintery trees bereft of all greenery.
It ended up being a really long day, making me very grateful that I had decided to slack-pack. I picked up my new stove, tent pegs and supplies for the next 6 days.
The 900km mark was reached today. Unbelievable. This story is starting to come to a close. It’s an eerie feeling. And a propulsion to enjoy every moment as fully as I can. Right to the end.
Greg wasn’t wrong. What a day! 27 odd kilometers, and some of the biggest hills on the trail. This is designed to test one’s spirit. One’s fortitude.
And test it does. All three of us are up early, keen to chew up a few kilometers at the start of the day. It’s a bitter sweet moment. There is a chance this will be the last morning we will all pack up together. It’s a weirdly poignant time for me. I don’t want to say goodbye. These two are such a large part of my Heysen Trail story. And great people to boot. I can’t say goodbye, and so I don’t. We’ll probably cross paths in the next couple of days anyway…
As I leave Grandma’s camp, I receive word from home regarding my nanna. None of it very good. It throws me into a spin and I have trouble keeping my emotions in check. Beep beep. Messages of support come through from both mum and dad. These immediately ground me, and I am able to regain focus.
Which is a good thing, because the morning starts out with some rather large ups and downs through the forestry zone. Evidence of recent burns can be seen on the soot scarred trees and new green growth.
I pass Cath and Greg, having a break. I tell them that I’m planning on having a break at the top of the next hill. “Ummmm. The top of the next hill is a long, long, long way…” I am told. Damn it! “Don’t tell me that Greg!” I yell, laughing, as I walk off.
Up the track I spy a sole orange. Just lying on the ground. I look at it for a while. Look around, trying to find the source tree. I can’t see one. I’ve been coveting an orange from one of the many trees I have seen laden full of fruit, but unreachable because of fences. I pick it up, peel it and eat it as I walk.
It’s like a gift from nature itself. So juicy, cold and sweet. It is absolutely delicious. It puts me in a jaunty mood. That is, until I see the hill. This is one of the meanest, steepest, longest hills I have ever seen. A few weeks ago, just the sight of it might have made me cry. Today, I push up it. And up. And up. Until victoriously I reach the top. I sit to take my promised break, and am able to clap Cath and Greg in as they arrive at the top. We are all ecstatic at our efforts. Our fitness levels. Our will power. It’s a great moment.
The final third of the walk is through Morialta Conservation Park. I am amazed and surprised when I ascend a small rise and in front of me lies the sprawl of Adelaide. It trips so many emotions. I can see the hotel that I was locked down in all those weeks ago. It’s mind blowing that I’m back here. That I’ve walked all this way. It’s an incredible feeling.
I walk through a deep gorge area. The soothing sound of bubbling water trickling along the stream. Not coming from South Australia, discovering one of these beautiful natural areas is an absolute delight.
I end the long days walk at the Scenic Pub in Norton Summit. Celebrate with a beer and some chips. There is no accommodation available here, so I taxi it to Bridgewater where I am able to have a very well deserved shower, and a real bed for the night. Bliss.