Day 37 – Osmiridium Beach to South Cape Rivulet

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The group that came in late are up an hour before sunrise, their bright headlamps strafing the campsite and forest as they break camp as quietly as they can.

I like to start my mornings by throwing half the tarp back so I can eat my breakfast and drink my coffee from the warmth of bed while watching the world slowly warm to full colour. I keep getting a headlamp to the face.

Back up to the track junction, then eastward again. I misjudge some mud, and go in up to the top of my thighs. I’m pretty annoyed with myself for that. I’ve been stepping or jumping over anything that seems deeper than calf depth. I don’t mind getting my feet muddy, but I’d rather not go in deeper than my gaiters. My feet are still dry though. Turns out today is the day the track ramps up to Kokoda levels.

I’m not hungry, exactly. It’s different. My stomach never feels empty because I have a big pot of muesli for breakfast, a satisfying dinner, and I’m constantly snacking through the day. What I am is craving calories. I just can’t carry enough of them to meet my daily expenditure.

Descending to Surprise Bay I overtake the group of five that left camp before me. I am speed.

Across surprise bay, which holds nothing unexpected at all, except perhaps the steepness of the exit:

A sharp little 150vm climb to the top of the ridge has me puffing and my muddy trousers dry. A forecast update has Wednesday with 13mm of rain again. Anne, my ride at the end, is piking out of camping at Cockle Creek. I’m considering my options. I’ll have lunch at Granite beach and consider.

Granite beach looks out eastward on towering dolerite columned headlands; the feet of the South Cape Range disappearing into the relentlessly churning ocean.

At the end of the beach, a little waterfall drips off the rocks. I wash my head, then give my shirt a good wash out and put it back on to dry. I’m tempted to have more of a wash, but I passed a couple of guys at the other end of the beach and they’ll be along any minute.

It’s only 12:00 when I get to Granite Beach. I eat lunch with a view of the ocean. There’s one day of decent weather left. I’d rather finish like that than in the rain. Plus there’s plenty of daylight left. I decide to keep going, though everyone says the next 9km over the South Cape Range is a ride on the struggle bus. Chapman says 5 to 7 hours. Parks says something like 6 to 8. I’ll be pushing hard, and it might be late by the time I get to camp, but it’ll make for a nice easy walk tomorrow.

I wander up to the campsite. Lee and Dave look like they’re carrying pretty heavy packs. While they set up camp, I filter water and rearrange my food for a longer walk. We chat and when I tell them where I’ve walked from and that I’m continuing over the top today, they give me a bunch of extra food; nuts and dried fruit, a protein bar, and a Camper’s Pantry meal. I hope they’re just offloading extra weight and not feeling too sorry for me. But either way I’m not going to turn down free food. I’m floored by the generosity of the people I’ve met on this walk.

I begin to climb.

And I climb. Then mud. Then climb.

Then descend. Mud. Tree roots. Mud.

It’s honestly not as hard as people made it out to be. I guess I’m pretty used to the type of walking that requires you to be constantly mapping the places you can put your feet and hands. I’ve long thought that such walking is as much about the software as it is about the muscles. It takes practice. Plus my pack is pretty light, with most of my food eaten.

There is an ungodly amount of mud though. You can fill yer boots with it!

I feel something on my tongue. I spit it out. It’s a mosquito. The wonders of nature never cease.

I get a scrap of signal on top of the last hill. One bar of 4g. Not enough to upload a blog post, let alone the six that I have piling up. Oh well. Sorry, you’ll get them all in one hit.

I walk out to where South Cape Rivulet meets the ocean and cross without taking my boots off. It’s taken me about four hours from Granite Beach. Not bad! Guess those trail legs are working pretty good.

The campsite is pretty crowded. I find myself a spot in the back that might once have been a tent site but looks like nobody’s used it for a while. The Camper’s Pantry meal is pretty good. I’m impressed with how well freeze dried meat (chicken in this case) comes back. I’m not going to need Wednesday’s food, so I eat half and put the other half in the bag for tomorrow. One day left. Let’s make it a good one.

When I finished the AAWT, I felt like I could just turn around and keep walking. Some people do this when they reach Katahdin at the northern end of the Appalachian trail, unwilling or unable to leave the simple life of the trail and return to the smothering embrace of civilisation. Not this time. Not for me. Tasmania is like the mainland, but dialled up to 11. The mountains are more mountainous. The mud is muddier. The weather more schizophrenic. The wildlife is wilder (and often more alive). The forests denser, and the scrub… dear gods, the scrub! This hike has been amazing beyond my expectations, but it’s also been incredibly difficult and challenging — physically, mentally and emotionally. I’m just about ready to go home.