30.1km +1565m -1421m Farewell, Bob’s Hut, you creepy fucker. I’m going to head to Black River, and then make a decision whether to strike out for Rumpff Saddle or leave it as a short day. A cold start. I wonder if the clouds will pass as they did yesterday? The blackberries have taken Australia. We merely live here at their whim. Usnea? I hardly know ‘er! I am informed that the track down to...
24.07km +1709m -1045m I do miss my hobbit hole. Why did I ever get it into my head to go on an adventure? The Hobbit (poorly paraphrased) I put my still-damp clean clothes in my hammock’s underquilt before retiring last night. This morning they are perfectly dry. A tantalising glimpse of sunlight, but I can’t tell if it’s coming or going. I am ashamed to say that I then wished the cloud would...
28.54km +666m -1658m (Edit: sorry if you got this in your emails. I just realised it didn’t come over in the migration and had to do it manually) Morning: things are looking up. The fog that blanketed everything all of yesterday lifted overnight, and this morning the sun is rising bright and clear through the snow gums. Chapman’s book gives the 25km to Thompson River as taking 12 hours, but...
19.95km +1492m -368m I’m just going outside, and I may be some time… Lawrence Oates [The original version of this post got lost in the shitty reception out here somewhere somehow. Here’s an artist’s recreation:] The 1500m climb was accurate. And don’t call me Shirley! Tyers River. You will not find more leech-infested hive of bloodsuckers. Some weird proto-snail Silly lyrebird...
13.2km +478m -473m “When guys in camouflage pants and hunting hats sat around in the Four Aces Diner talking about fearsome things done out-of-doors, I would no longer have to feel like such a cupcake. I wanted a little of that swagger that comes with being able to gaze at a far horizon through eyes of chipped granite and say with a slow, manly sniff, “Yeah, I’ve shit in the woods.” A Walk in the...
Too late now to sweat the petty things… The train pulls out of Kingston station in Canberra. Blackberry bushes, graffiti, and saplings pushing up between the rusting rails of a disused line. I’ve chosen it over flying for a number of reasons. Partly a distaste for the pseudo-fascist theatre of airport security, party a distrust of baggage handlers, and partly the unlikely romance of diesel and...
…and I’m freaking out, man! The wind blew unrelentingly all through the night. I stayed warm without issue, which reassured me that my gear is trail worthy and ready to go, but the ceaseless bluster made sleep difficult and patchy. I was surprised not to hear the crash of trees falling in the night. There was little time for pleasantry in the pre-dawn light; tents and bellies were hastily packed...
A chilly night with a full moon lighting up the clearing and a foggy morning filled with birdsong. I’d say it probably dipped down to near freezing, but I was plenty cozy in my down quilts, which is reassuring. I’m starting to think this might be a cold walk and in my mind I’m cramming extra warm clothes into an already full pack. Doug and I had a hurried breakfast and quickly packed up in order...
This morning I leave for three days and 1700km of driving around the alps, hiding food caches in the bush. I’m beginning to get the feeling that it might be too late for second-guessing. I’ve teamed up with two other solo hikers to do our food drops together and share the fuel costs. Ron gave me his caches last week (with all the trepidation of a man handing over his beloved first born) and set...
