Tag: Solo female hiker

Total Distance – 930.8km

A Heysen Trail Story

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….

Total Distance – 907km

A Heysen Trail Story

“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.

Total Distance – 885.2km

A Heysen Trail Story

“Today is the mother of all days”

Greg

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.

Total Distance – 859km

A Heysen Trail Story

It’s been a really mixed day of emotions.  The whole gamut really. Exhilarating highs and devastating lows. That’s life I suppose.

The day started on a high.  A dry tent!  It’s amazing what a positive difference that makes to the packing up process.  And Greg and Cath were true to their word, and provided me with boiling water both last night, and, for my cuppa this morning.  Great start.

Not so great was the news that my new stove was definitely not going to make it to Kersbrook to pick up today.  Not much to be done except forward it on to the next town, and plan to beg, borrow or steal Cath and Greg’s stove again tonight.

The walk today was honestly a bit of a blur.  Rather nice walking through forestry areas and nature strips.  And hills.  Many, many hills.  Puffing and panting, I reflected that it was probably a rather fortunate thing that I had been denied entry to Kersbrook.

I ran into Cath and Greg having their lunch and they revealed an incredible surprise.  Gail, the wonderful coffee angel, having unfortunately had to retire from the track again with health issues, waved them down from her car.  Cath flourished a stove and stated that Gail had dropped it off for my use until I could get my own sorted.  To just get in contact with her once I was done with it, and she would come and pick it up. What an amazing thing to do for a complete stranger.  To purposely be there, to pass it over.  To trust me with it.  Incredible kindness.  And then Cath even carried it for me!  What to say…except thank you.  Truely. 

A few kilometers before camp I pull into a roadside cafe.  Charge up with a toasted sandwich, chips and a beer.  I’m feeling pretty damn relaxed, when a text comes from home.  Nanna has taken a turn.  She’s not great.  More news to come later.

It’s a punch to the guts.  And all I can think about when I start walking again.  She’s old, my nanna.  In her 90’s.  A living legend. 

I don’t mind admitting that I started to cry.  I suddenly felt a long, long way away from those I love and who love me.  In my opinion, one of the worst things about Covid is the loneliness it begets on the elderly.  After such a tremendous life, to not be able to be surrounded by loved ones, is a travesty.  It all just makes me so sad.

But nanna is a fighter.  And an inspiration for what I am currently attempting to achieve.  And there’s nothing I can realistically do anyway.  Except just keep walking.  And hope she improves.  It’s tough though.  When you take away all the stress of daily life, it leaves a lot of space for thought.  My nanna will take up a lot of that space in the next few days.  Which is a lovely thing…

Ironically, I’m at Grandpa’s camp tonight.  I don’t think anyone will mind, if, just for the night, it becomes Grandma’s Camp.  That’s how I’ll think of it anyway. 

Total Distance – 837.1km

A Heysen Trail Story

AAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGGG!! This morning I had a full on hissy fit. Swearing, muttering, angry. It’s the first I’ve felt real anger on this whole trip.

The reason? My stove has died. It actually died last night, so I ended up eating cheese on stale Naan Bread for dinner. I had been hoping that it was just too cold to operate my gas cannisters properly. Yes, that’s right…cannisters. I’m actually carrying two at the moment. So I slept with the full one tucked in the bottom of my sleeping bag, under the understanding that this morning everything would be working as usual. Wrong. Things weren’t working at all.

No coffee and it was freezing cold. Ice covering everything. Water dripping. And I lost it. Big time. AAARRGGGGGG!!!! Straight into my pillow.

It didn’t last long and once I got it out I felt better. Might as well get on with the messy pack up. At just the right time, Gail, coffee angel, yelled out hello and I sadly explained my plight. With that, she returned to her tent, grabbed her stove and set me up to boil some water. Heaven on a freezing cold morning. Thank you Gail for that kindness.

In a cunning, and maybe ill conceived plan, I ordered a new stove and had it sent Express to the small town of Kersbrook which I will pass tomorrow. It’ll be a 4km round trip detour into town, but if I can pull it off I’ll be happy. If it doesn’t arrive in time I’m not sure what I’ll do. Scream again probably.

Luckily, today’s walking was wonderful, relieving me of my gear woes for a while.

First up, a ridgetop walk over Little Mt Crawford. A beautiful bush track lined with banksias and basaltic rock. Sweeping views off to the left when given the opportunity.

The track descended into the forestry zone, lined with pines. A series of boardwalks crossed a marshy area, water black as tar with the tannins. Fantails and silvereyes darting to the waters edge. Roos lounging on the grassy fields.

The track then entered the Watts Gully Conservation Reserve. A road steeply climbing to a tower high point before transforming into an excellent bush track lined with flowering plants of multiple colours and varieties. This sort of track is why I love to walk, and it was so wonderful to snake down the mountain, losing all directional context.

The campground is busy! A group of school kids here as well. Once again, Cath and Greg have promised to come to my rescue and provide me with the boiling water I need for dinner. Legends.

There’s a little sun this afternoon, so I’m lapping it up. It promises to be another very cold night. For everyone’s sake, let’s hope my cunning plan comes off tomorrow. Otherwise, the screaming may begin in ernest. Again.

Total Distance – 815.1km

A Heysen Trail Story

It was a wet old night last night. Sporadic rain all the way through. There’s nothing quite like putting wet shoes and socks on in the morning after a chilly night!

I was really slow off the mark this morning. Cath and Greg had left before I even got up and out of my tent. But it was nice to just beetle around and pretend I was drying a few things out at least.

By the time I got started the modest sunshine had turned to rain. Another cold hands kind of a day.

Scenery wise, there was little to get really excited about this morning. The track mainly following roads through a forestry area and surrounds. I did meet Josh – a young fellow I had heard about who was attempting to run the Heysen trail in 21 days a a way of raising awareness and funds for Black Dog. He’d already run 15km by the time I met up with him, and had about 40 more to do before day’s end. What a legend. Him, and his support crew of one.

The walk really got interesting around Mt Crawford. “Are those….stairs?” I said to myself, incredulous. They were indeed, and up I went. At the top I met Sam. Urchin like in bare feet, a big football guernsey and ripped pants. Beaming smile and interested attitude. We talked for a long time. Me about the trail, Norfolk Island, and my reasons for wanting to do this walk. Her about her love of the Fleurieu Pennisular, the small house she was building on a block with 8 others, and the reason she was up on the hill. A fight with her partner. We both agreed wholeheartedly that nature has a way of calming down every situation and bringing it back to good. It was a pleasure to meet and talk with her.

The track from the summit wound down the mountain through swales of large banksias. The first I’ve seen on this walk. From the base, just a short stroll into the campground. It’s a huge area, and there are three groups here – all Heysen walkers. Cath and Greg. And I’ve just met Gail who is doing the Adelaide Hills section following some unexpected injuries which have impeded her end to end attempt.

It’s lovely to have an old wooden table to sit at, and the rain has held off for the afternoon. The magpies are singing. We are all preparing for a very cold night tonight.

Total Distance – 792.1km

A Heysen Trail Story

“And in, what I assume is not a first for this family…I’ve just had two desserts! 😊😊”

Text to my support crew

Well. I didn’t end up joining anything last night. In fact, it was a struggle just to roll back to the hotel room after the gigantic meal I had! What a meal it was though. The restaurant, 1918, was set in an old house, and I was placed right next to a roaring fire. All of my courses, entree, main and two desserts, were absolutely delicious. It was such a nice night out, and felt rather well deserved.

So, in the grip of a food coma, I heard nothing of the revelry downstairs and drifted off into a blissful sleep.

In the morning, more food. A cafe for breakfast. The weather changes from lovely, warm sunshine to pelting down rain. The run of warmth is over.

It’s a short and lovely walk to Rossiter’s Hut. This is especially true of the second half, through the Kaiserstuhl Conservation Reserve. The track here was lined with stringybarks, colourful wattles and fuscias and large granitic boulders. It was lovely being back on a forested track after days of pastures and roads.

I arrived at the small hut around 11.30 and barely had time to open the door before a blast of rain and hail bucketed down. A good time for a hot mocha.

Before long a knock on the door and there stood a bedraggled looking Cath and Greg. They had walked through the worst of the storm and were keen to get inside. It was great to catch up with them again after a few days.

I’ve been in my tent all afternoon trying to warm up. Again the temperature has halved in one day. But to be warm and dry, tucked up in my sleeping bag and enjoying my book….you can’t ask for more than that. Very lucky.

Total Distance – 781.3km

A Heysen Trail Story

Not a great deal to tell today. Basically it was all about getting from one town to another. Scenery average and pretty much all on roads. Still, it was flat and the kilometers passed quickly.

I reached Tanunda by 11.30am and stopped in at a lovely cafe for brunch. At some point in the future I’m going to have to begin curtailing what I order, but at the moment I can just go for it. I have a large chocolate milkshake, a vegetarian burger with a side of potato slices, huge chai tea and a lemon curd tart. Filled the spot.

The pub were generous enough to allow me to get into my room early. It mightn’t be the most luxurious bathroom I’ve ever been in, but my little ensuite feels like an absolute treat.

The atmosphere in town is one of excitement! One of the Adelaide AFL teams is playing in a preliminary final tonight and all the venues are expecting big crowds. I decide to book into one of fancier restaurants in town and treat myself to a non pub meal. Enjoy the quiet whilst I can. And later, I’ll see. Sometimes the best attitude is, “If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em!”.

Total Distance – 768.6km

A Heysen Trail Story

I enjoyed Kapunda. Beautiful little town with lovely architectural buildings and churches, great little art gallery, and pubs galore.

I stayed at the Sir John Franklin Hotel last night. The rooms seem to be getting more and more….quaint. This one had no bathroom, but did have a little washing basin. I assume so the men could shave back in the day. I turned the tap on. The water ran copper, then clear, then black, then clear. I decided to get my water elsewhere.

Like many of the pubs before this one, the female bathroom was located right at the far extreme of the accommodation area, and consisted of one toilet with a door that didn’t close properly. Next door was a separate shower room, with a cracked sliding shower screen and small sink squeezed in next to it. When I jumped in the shower, the low pressure spray went everywhere but down. Not particularly satisfying.

I mention this because I was lying in bed in the middle of the night needing to go. The thought of trudging to the bathroom was both preventing me from getting up, and from going back to sleep. I hit on an idea. The male bathroom was much more central. In fact, it was right next door to me. There was hardly anyone here. I’d just duck in there and go.

Decision made, I got up and stumbled next door. To receive the shock and surprise of my life. I rubbed my sleepy eyes. This couldn’t be right. Because here was a gleaming, large bathroom. Three or four huge shower cubicles. Glistening tiles. Sparkling chrome showerheads. A toilet door that worked. Hand towels at all the basins. A little bowl of soaps at the sink. “What the hell!?” I breathed to myself.

I thought back to all the “female” bathrooms I had been in on my pub tour. The location of each. How dilapidated and unkept many of them seemed. Is this just a “thing”? I understand that pubs were primarily the domain of males back in the day. But really? A little modern day spruce up wouldn’t hurt.

Again, not the greatest scenery for walking again today. The 19km went by very quickly on roads, along paddock creeks and fencelines. I reached the Greenock Oval by 1pm. A popular spot for caravanners – but who can blame them. Just $5 to stay the night, with a free bbq, toilets and cold shower. Can’t complain about that.

I’m keen to set up quickly and enjoy my afternoon. Head to the local brewery and get a light beer. Everything went smoothly. That is, until I tried to put the fly on the tent. And realised I must have left four of my pegs back at the Kapunda Caravan Park. That’ll teach me for sending my spares home.

I wasn’t quite sure what to do. Bad weather predicted to be on the way. Possible hail. Nothing available in the general store. If I ordered it today would it reach Tanunda by tomorrow? In the end I decided to get the taxi, travel 8km to the closest Mitre 10, get pegs, and taxi back. Cost of the pegs – $5.40. Cost of the taxi – $36.10. And the pegs are much heavier than the ones I lost. That’ll teach me. But I feel good about being able to secure my tent for the next few days. I’ll get some lighter ones sent further on. I feel like I’m doing my best to keep Australia Post solvent.

But I’m at the Brewery now, and enjoying a light English bitter. Jazz is playing on the speakers and it’s a sunny afternoon. Things definitely aren’t all bad…

Total Distance – 749.8km

A Heysen Trail Story

Walking on a dream

How can I explain

Talking to myself

Will I see again?

We are always running for the thrill of it, thrill of it

Always pushing up the hill, searching for the thrill of it

On and on and on we’re calling out, out again

Never looking down, I’m just in awe of what’s in front of me

Walking on a Dream, Empire of the Sun

I felt really inspired this morning. I had my music on for the first time in a long time. The sun was shining for the first time in days. I was walking along a ridgetop with inspiring views on either side. Like a solar charged battery I felt myself getting stronger and stronger. I sang out loud and felt invincible and free.

And in this moment I wanted to test myself. See how far I had come. What I could do. I decided that if I reached the next campgound, in around 22 kilometres time, and I was feeling good, I would continue on to Kapunda. A long day, but doable. I picked up my pace and set off.

I made the decision that I was just going to go for it not long afterwards. I just felt so damn good. Floating, as Pierre would say. And there would be some great rewards. My tent was absolutely saturated from the dewy morning. I could set up at the caravan park, grab a hot shower and a feed, dry my tent out in the morning while cafe dining, wash my clothes, and then walk the kilometer to get to my pub hotel room for the evening. Decision made.

And so I went for it. To be fair, it was a good day for going such a distance. Not fantastic scenery and relatively flat. It was easy to fang it. I got to the campground by 1pm and was happy with my decision. Whilst it was lovely and treed, the whole site was on a rather steep slope. Time to keep on keeping on.

In the end I completed the almost 37km fairly easily. I arrived at the campground by 4pm. A slight hobble, but pretty much no worse for wear than any other day. And a steamy hot shower definitely made it all worth it. Pizza at the pub and a great sleep on a flat campsite the icing on the cake.

And today? I feel absolutely fine. Which I am rather shocked about. It’s like I’ve become a bit of a superhuman. Just through walking. It’s bizzare and brilliant. How I wish I could always feel like this. A goal to aspire to I suppose.

In the meantime, I’ll just keep enjoying this amazing experience and being grateful for all it is doing for me.