Tag: Thru-hike

Total Distance – 537.6km

A Heysen Trail Story

I’m sitting in the dining hall / bar of the Wildongoleeche “Wild Dog” Hotel. It’s pizza night. And I’m excited.

It’s a funny little place. Full of eclectic trinkets and family photos. I absolutely love a painting in my room which depicts a person carrying a backpack in a mossy gorge. It feels just right somehow. Additionally, and very importantly, the shower is amazing. Best yet!

To say the morning up at the Trig was a bit fresh is under-selling it. Just a tad. The wind had picked up during the night. Nothing crazy. Just enough to make packing up the tent somewhat of a challenge! And in that cold, cold air it was so, so sweet to fold my newly fixed tent pole up. As if it had never been broken at all.

There were no real highlights on the walk today. Very straightforward road walking for the most part. But it was beautiful sunshine all day. It’s amazing what a dry, warm pair of feet can do for the soul. So, it was pretty quick sticks into town.

It’s about time I had a straightforward day!

Total Distance – 514.7km

A Heysen Trail Story

I’m lying in my tent watching dozens of huge wind turbines languidly spin. It’s mesmerising. This afternoon they are turning ever so slowly, which I am truely grateful for.

Bit of a tough day it’s fair to say. Though the start was great! I absolutely loved the Spalding Hotel. Chatting with a small group of colourful locals, mainly about Norfolk Island. Upon discovering I was a ranger, one of the ladies asked me “So what are you dealing with over there? Foxes? Rabbits?”. I replied “No. Mainly rats”. To which she, no word of a lie, almost starting dry retching. A woman of my own heart.

And my bed! Flannelette sheets and a great thick doona. It definitely made it very difficult to get up this morning.

But I had to get going. I had a long walk and no real plan for where I might stop. Packed extra water, just in case. And off I went.

The first part of the day was once again following the aquaduct, which I really enjoyed. It gave me a chance to have a think….what was I going to do tonight?

The whistling trig has a really bad reputation as a campsite. Rocky, not flat. But the main problem is the wind. They don’t have a wind farm right next door for nothing. So the advice from many previous walkers is to avoid camping here. Stay on the roadside further to the north. Or go past and walk to the road further south. Neither of these sites appeals to me. Just camped right next to the road like that. But if I had to I had to. And that was that.

It’s all got me feeling a little….anxious. I left the aquaduct and started on a moderately short road walk, noticing that ominous, dark clouds were forming on the hills. The wind was still bitterly cold.

Leaving the road, the track follows a long fenceline adjacent to an old stone walk. As per usual, it takes in all the high points. Just as I got underway with it, down came the rain. Quite heavy rain at that. It turned what was an unpleasantly cold day, into an absolutely freezing one.

I reached the road where many have suggested finding a campsite. But it was so muddy and wet that the better idea seemed to be to just keep walking. At least that was doing something to help keep me warm. That, and I could see the smallest glimmer of blue sky further along the track.

A couple of kilometers later I reached the trig. And I was so glad I had continued on. The sky was clearing and the wind was mild. I could deal with that. I threw up the tent, ditched my wet clothes and shoes and ensconced myself inside, warming up and drying out. It really helped to be able to have a quick chat with the head of my support crew and his family. Stability and reassurance in what had seemed a very crazy day.

I’m still in my tent, but I have all the doors open. It’s the most incredible view. The sun is about to set behind distant mountains. There is a flock of sheep grazing nearby. And the wind turbines slowly turn and turn. I feel a great sense of relief that it all worked out so wonderfully. And immense satisfaction. That a really quite trying situation, has been turned so completely around.

I shouldn’t speak too soon. The sheep are coming my way….

Total Distance – 488.2km

A Heysen Trail story

Well, the overwhelming word of the day is cold. Freezing in fact. Really, really, very, very cold.

I actually had a really good sleep. Wearing all of my clothes, but that’s ok. I woke this morning to a dripping wet tent. Inside. One of the problems when it gets SO cold. And when it’s really grassy. And when there’s no wind, is that condensation in the tent is a big issue.

Little drips. Drip after drip after drip. Dropping down on your sleeping bag and everything else. Making everything inside feel horrible, clammy, and, damp. The tent fly also gets saturated. So, all in all, it’s a wet mess. And cold to boot. Nothing you can really do about it.

I lie in a little bit with a vague notion that the sun might come out all guns blazing and with ferocious force dry everything in an instant and I’d be on my way. Not to be. I opened the tent to reveal a swirling fog awash over the whole landscape. Hills I could see yesterday, no longer. There would be no sun for quite a while.

Pack up isn’t fun. The absolute worst thing is trying to get the tape off my sutured tent pole. With these freezing fingers, it’s no fun at all. “This is the last time. This is the last time”, I think to myself. I am due to pick up the parts to fix it once and for all this afternoon.

The walk passes quickly. Easy walking beside the aquaduct. Mark leaves in his vehicle having given me all his leftover food and an offer of help when I reach further south. Trail kindness.

The sun tries to make it’s presence known. I stop to take a break and attempt to dry out some of my gear. The attempt is successful, which I’m really pleased about. Job done.

I get into town about 1pm, so I have an hour to mooch around. I go to the post office and pick up my fix the tent package. Go to the store and pick up a sterling sausage roll and sauce. Outstanding!

The pub opens at 2pm sharp and I am promptly shown into my room, which I am very grateful about. The temperature has plummeted in the last hour.

I have a double bed, the female toilet is just across the way, and the showers right next door. Perfect! It’s all topped off with a lovely hot shower and a steaming cup of tea.

I have a really pleasant afternoon fixing my tent and catching up with the head of my support crew. Big things on the horizon for him, which is super exciting. I regret not being there to share that excitement and trepidation with him. It’s the ultimate downside of doing something like this. The “selfishness” of it. He deals with it like an absolute champ though.

I’m in the pub now. Even though they don’t have pub dinners tonight, the co-owner, Julie, is making me a spaghetti bolognaise. I cannot describe how excited I am by this. Well, I can. I am ridiculously excited. Just the thing on a cold, cold evening.

I’ve got to say I’m not really looking forward to tomorrow. Climb, climb climb right up to “Whistling Trig”. Known breaker of tent poles and spirits. That’d be just my luck. It’s only just fixed! And -1 degrees again tomorrow night. Yeah. It might not be so much fun….

Total Distance – 469.5km

A Heysen Trail Story

As it turned out, my biggest concerns last night were not little critters, but completely man made objects. No sooner had all of us tucked up into bed then BEEP! Pause. And then BEEP! Pause. And then BEEP! again. The battery in the smoke detector must have died.

Mark, as the only person whose career title was “fire fighter” was quickly nominated as the person best placed to get out of their warm sleeping bag and deal with this issue. With no way of turning it off, the offending alarm was quickly banished to the outhouse.

Ahhhhh. Blissful peace. Until I was awoken at 1am by BEEP! Pause. And then BEEP! Pause. And then BEEP! again. The smoke detector in the other room was now also throwing a hissy fit. With no sign of movement from the lower level of sleepers, I steeled myself and got up to investigate.

There it was. Beeping and flashing away. Well out of arms length even after standing on a chair. The cold forced me to climb into the windowsill and manouveur with all the skills of Spiderman. I pull the raucous alarm off and scurry out to the dunny block. Throw it in there like it’s a live grenade into a bomb containment facility and run back to cover. It happily beeps away with it’s mate all night.

The walk today seems like such a short little one! Just 13km. Such a sweet, little thing. I lie in bed reading for a bit until routine gets the better of me. I get up and get cracking. I leave just half an hour later than I usually do.

And by cracking I mean cracking because it was positively freezing! Reaching a private pasture, I stopped with the intention of taking a quick toilet break and getting my gloves and rain pants on. Such was the cold. To my dismay, I found that the tie on my shorts had become completely knotted, and there was absolutely no way these frozen fingers were going to get that knot undone!

Only thing to do was to get my longs and gloves on and keep going. My theory being, that as soon as my fingers were warm enough to undo the bloody knot, I would stop again. This definitely needed to occur as soon as possible!

I had just about reached that point when, unexpectedly, a fellow came riding up to me on a motorbike. Dog panting behind. He pleasantly informed me that him and his mates were mustering a large herd of sheep and could I please assist by walking in a certain manner, and not scaring them back in the direction they were coming from. I could hear the farmers loud calls and the thundering hooves and noise of the sheep on the move.

The rider then informed me that he would have offered me a ride, but that there was no room on the bike. The dog promptly jumped up, and off they rode together. The dog with a smug smile on it’s face.

I was in a sheep muster! But I was also absolutely busting, and there was people in unknown locations all over the mountains. Nothing for it but to soldier, very carefully, on.

Sheep continued to pour down the mountain, weaving in and out of the thousands of grass trees which grew there. Unable to bear it any longer, I picked a likely spot, and went for it. All good. Knot undone. No people observed. A couple of sheep put out. Winner.

It really seemed like I finished the walk as soon as I started. Perhaps 13km is a little too short for me now? It was easy walking, all down hill though. We’ll see. It’s nice just to have a relax in the tent reading my book and listening to podcasts. That’s what a holiday is for right?

It’s now 4.30pm and I have on practically every piece of clothing I own. I think cold might be an understatement for tonight.

Total Distance – 456.3km

A Heysen Trail Story

“Well. It wouldn’t be a walk without a bit of hail I suppose…”

Me to my support crew

Pretty epic day. VERY. Epic. Day. Weather, scenery, angry birds. This day had it all.

It rained pretty much all night, so I luxuriated in being dry, warm and snuggly in my little tent. Good sleep. What’s more, the rain eased off whilst I was packing up my gear, which was highly appreciated.

Just as I hit the city limits of Georgetown, it started to come down again. Nothing for it but to don the rain gear and plod on. Hope that my hands didn’t freeze off. The mountains were shrouded in fog, and there weren’t even many birds venturing out this morning. Really, when I thought about it, staying in bed seemed a good idea.

But as I neared the end of the long morning’s road walk, the rain began to lift. Blue skies! Oh look! There’s even a magpie sitting on the fence stile I need to go over. Conditions are on the improve!

I crossed the stile and stood to have a good look around. With the scudding clouds and the blue light, the scenery looked incredible. Water and rocks and tussocks. All of a sudden, I heard a vicious swooping noise behind me. As if Daenerys dragons themselves were hovering at my shoulder. I turned with a start. The magpie! With an evil genius look in its eye.

And so began a battle of wits and courage. It swooped me again. I shrieked and stumbled off. Where is it? Where is it? Great. It’s just up there on the next signpost. Waiting. Sure enough, another swoop. And again. And now this was particularly cruel because I had started going up a massive hill, and every time I stopped to rest…. SWOOP! Bloody hell! Gimme a rest will ya!

Eventually it must have decided I wasn’t worth the effort. I defiantly took a photo of it’s home. From afar.

The walk from this point was very interesting. Great views out to Georgetown. Rugged, exposed rocks. Dams full to the brim. Hail at the high point.

Yes, that’s right! It had been showering on and off all day. The temperature plumeting whenever it did so. But this was different. No sooner had I got to one of the highest points on this section of the trail, than a grey haze oozed in. The wind picked up markedly. It started to pelt down, stinging the face. And then. Hail. Just little bits. But ice fell from the sky. It all felt a little surreal really. I was grateful I was only 5km or so from the hut.

Now I’m sitting at Curnows Hut and the sun is valiantly trying to shine. It’s very cold though. My fingers are numb and clumsy, making me write everything twice.

Greg and Cath are here, as well as their friend Mark who is walking with them for a few days. Almost 30km on Mark’s first day. That’s a hell of an effort. Especially in the tricky conditions. “How about that magpie!” I exclaimed. “What magpie?” was the basic reply.

I’m sleeping in the upstairs bunk. Without my tent. After being attacked by a wild beast and pelted with hail, it seems like a day to be brave. And so be brave I shall.

Please, please, pretty please stay away from me mice…..

Total Distance – 431.6km

A Heysen Trail Story

No music last night! Lots of trains blasting their horns. But there’s not much to be done about that. I left this morning with mixed feelings regarding the accommodation. On the one hand, the food was absolutely fantastic. Really yummy. The staff were friendly and they let me do my washing in their machines for free.

But it was also a little bit….lacking. In the cleanliness department really. Both the bathroom and the lounge area. Nothing major, but enough to put a bit of a tarnish on it.

Now, I’ve really taken it up a notch. Camped as I am outside the toilet block in the Georgetown park. Not caravan park. Just…park. There’s kids here now, playing on the swing sets. It feels a bit odd. Sure. But apparently it’s allowed and the toilet block is immaculate. One buck for a sweet 2 minutes of steaming hot water in the shower, and I’m feeling warm and snug sitting in the central rotunda. Can’t ask for more than that!

Nature was not with me today. The wind, viciously against me in fact. The battle to move forward was intense. The walking consisted primarily of road walking as well as a small, grassy section following a pipeline.

Nice views, but nothing spectacular. It was kind of hard to see anyway. What with my head bent so far forward in an effort to try and keep my hat on.

And then disaster. Somehow, in my usual uncoordinated way, my walking pole got caught up under a wooden stile as I tried to get over a fence. Snapped a section clean off. I think it says something that I didn’t even swear. Didn’t throw the bits in disgust and curse my luck. I just stoically picked up the pieces and stashed them in my bag. I must be getting immune to my gear issues. That, and I knew I had a shit tonne of tape I could try and “fix” it with. I tell you. That stuff is the most used thing in my pack.

I stopped in at Hiskey’s Hut briefly to have a look around. Fairly big hut with multiple rooms and a large fireplace. Significant effort has gone into trying to revegetate the land surrounding the hut which is excellent to see.

I had already decided I would move on though. Drown the sorrows of my stuffed stick in the generous warmth of the shower. Also, it looks to be a rather mountainous day tomorrow. Perhaps with some rain. So, this just gets me a little inch closer…

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.