Mapleton Forest during the floods

  Just before returning to England I made one more attempt to get to th Gold Coast Hinterland Great Walk. I'd made the attempt a few times but never managed it. This time was no different. Floods and storms had been battering Queensland for over a month and the trail was closed without any idea of when it would be safe enough to re-open. This was the first time I'd planned to walk with people, two friends from work Nick and Sara and I was desperate to do something. So it was back to Mapleton Sunshine Hinterland Great Walk. This trail was also closed but when I phoned the rangers I was told that they would be re-opening it the day we planned to leave.
  With this fixed as our destination I decided to attempt to get us round the entire Great Walk in three days instead of four. We'd get off at Mapleton, walk through the Forest reserve to Thilms Thalma Camping ground on the first day, straight to Flaxton on the second before attempting the longest day to Monteville on the third. Weather wise we were in for a rough one with rain on an off the entire time with the occasional thunder storm. The ranger I'd talked to had told me that the tracks were in a bad condition and would not yield good walking. The were, however, no longer dangerous. I also asked about the creek crossings and was informed that they were doable. 


Day1 

 Once we got to Mapleton we stopped for lunch, the urgency to be on our way already gone now that public transport had delivered us at the start of the walk. Eager to go back to the cafe I'd visited a few weeks before I agreed. We all ordered out sandwiches, drinks of ice coffee and shared a berry tart for desert. A relaxed approach which was a nice change to my usual charged hike. I'd walked this walk a number of times but this time there would be a very different challenge.
  Full, we set off walking up Vilancia road before making  a right turn to enter Mapleton Forest reserve. Yet the track we headed towards was shut, a sign closing it off warning us of the danger of death which proceeding would incur. While, alone, I would have almost definitely gone the safer route group provado prevented it and we forged onwards, me been too eager to show them the entire path to back down. Soon the path was under a foot of water and our legs and shoes were drenched. A leech was happily working its was up Nick's boot and all our concentration was bent on finding and remaining on the footpath.
  Progress was slow, accompanied by moans and laughter as we worked our way through the marsh land. Flashes of Bilbo heading to Mordor went through my mind although their progress seemed blissfully free of leeches. Again, by myself I'd have been swearing my head off, but its a completely different experience when you're sharing it with others. It was great fun.
  As we curved round a gigantic tree we all stopped to take some photos, posing on the trunk I was barely able to scramble up.

 It was a relief when the land began to rise again and the mud recede. The leeches did not and Sara was having miniature hysterics every time she saw one. Sara and Nick had been smart in their choice of clothing, covering their legs completely with tightly nit garments to prevent them from attaching themselves to the skin. I wore shorts and with my usual luck ended up been the only one not to be bit. I think this might be because I could see them better, and they struggled more to get a grip- but more likely it was complete and utter luck. 
  Nearly two hours had past and we were making excruciatingly slow progress. Every time I 'd done this part of the hike I worried I'd gone the wrong way, and true enough I began to worry once more. It always seemed to take twice as much as I thought it would. Not wanting to show my uncertainty to my friends I didn't say anything.
  As we crossed a little stream me and Nick began to chant the verses from the child hood story 'Were going on a bear hunt'. It was the type of silliness which makes a walk and is hard to reach on your own.
  A five minute break at the Ubajee campsite before going down to the valley floor. The next ten or so kilometers would be low down and involve crossing and recrossing the creek. The descent however had already injured one of the team, Sara's ankle  hurt causing her to limp. We stopped several times, applying plasters and creams to try to prevent it from getting worse, but it seemed to be the heel itself. Nothing was visible but I quickly realised how stupid it was of me to undertake such hard days with someone who'd never done it before and was not a walker. I should have chosen a much easier route- although in truth we'd barely started a real day's walk.
  Here came our next problem. There creek crossings went quickly from fun dips to torrents of water with strong currents. The previous times I'd been here they'd been dry rocks and I was shocked at the difference. On our way down to the valley a strong stream had been flowing to out rights, little rooks crossing out path once or twice. Everything was overflowing with water. Stunning but hard work, and Sara was seriously struggling. Nick offered to carry her back at one point, but she would not allow it. I also was worried, while I was sure Nick could have managed it anyone forced to carry 30 odd kilos for ten or so kilometers over hard terrain would be exhausted the next day and at this rate there would be two done in on day one.

  We came to another creek, this one deeper and fiercer than the last one, about three of so kilometers from the start of the valley floor track.And here is there reason why all these photographs are of me and Nick and from Sara's camera.
  The bridge had been washed away, my first clue that I should have turned back. The bridge was originally constructed with two concrete upright walls about a meter and a half apart, two pipes passing through them to channel the current, and dirt filling in the middle to allow you to walk across. The current and floods had washed away all the dirt in the centre leaving a meter to a meter and a half depth of water in the middle. Water was flowing fast over the sides. We considered trying to balance on the walls and walk across that way but these were only half a foot wide and if we fell the fast flowing water was deep enough to submerge us, and shallow enough for us to cause our self damage on the rocks. Better wet and safe was my logic. I charged on and attempted to walk across. The washed away inside of the bridge was too deep so I attempted to get over just before the bridge, using the walls to help me balance.
  The current, as the water reached my waist, started to over balance me and I was struggling to stay on my feet. Then my foot past in front of one of the tubes and I felt the current grab a hold of my leg. I could neither move it foreward or take it back since it was only my actual weight which prevented me from be sucked in. The tube was about a foot in diameter, it would suck my leg in dragging me under water. I was carrying a 20 pound rucksack and trapped under the water would have been very dangerous and scary- apparently my face changed colour very quickly. I'd been carrying my camera above the water but at this point I was too concerned with getting out of there, I allowed it to drop back in my waist and hoped the water proof bag would protect it enough.
  I finally managed to get my foot back from the tunnel mouth and nearly falling over several times I made it back to the sure. Sara helped by extending my hiking pole for me to grab a hold of. Even before I was fully out the water I checked on my camera only to find it gone. The current had pulled it from its bag and away. I think I screeched its absence rather loudly and with the panic I'd tried to hide a few minutes before. It had cost me most than any other camera I'd ever bought times five, and I loved and cherished it. But I'd honestly thought that I was in a great deal of trouble a few minutes before, and thinking you might drown puts things into perspective very quickly, plus I partly deserved it for been such a silly twit. I read 'do not cross flooded creeks' again and again and ignored it.
  Sara suggested trying again but both me and Nick flatly refused and we turned around to head back the way we came. Night was already threatening so we headed back to Ubajee camp, back up the hill and eager to set up camp. Eager to show I wasn't upset over the camera and attempting to urge forward my hiking partners I shouted 'I spy' s back at them and been extra energetic as we climbed back up the hill. In the end it took barely more than an hour to get back to camp. Water tank provided us with water and once camp was set up me and Sara took ourselves off to wash before cooking.
  The night was a clear warm one in the end, and we spent it playing scrabble, Sara reading her book and talking. The day hadn't been anything close to a physical challenge, not what I usually strive for in my hikes but it had held it fair share of drama. Walking with partners can frustrate, you can't maintain your own pace or set your own challenges but the advantages are equal if not greater. It becomes a team effort and as soon as one of us was in trouble all worked to get them out. Usually in the evening I read and eat in my tent before going straight to sleep. Because of that you miss the magic of the forest night, on this occasion a forest mouse bouncing across our camp site every few minutes.
  I slept ontop of my sleeping back at frit, the night too ho for me to climb in. About midnight I noticed water all over the tent floor. I figured my sleeping back had gotten wet in the rived and sighing curled up in the liner. I woke up when the water become a pool, I was coland and the sleeping back was so completely wer that it needed to be rung. My three leter water bladder had sprung a leak.

Day 2
   I mannaged a few hours sleep but was relieved when morning came and I could climb out. I had to wring them dry again, and by day light I realised just how much water I'd been attempting to sleep on. We packed up and I hoped we'd be blessed with another dry day so that I'd have time to dry things out.
  Todays plan was pretty simple.. It was an easy 15 km to Flaxton and should take us any more tha four or five hour. We remained on the road for the first section, our shoes already soked and the novelty of marsh ladn wearing thin. Our shoudlers were also suffering a little, and Sara was no limping badly and walking on the back of her shoes since they hurt too badly on. After I adjusted my rucksack straps the pain in my shoulders disapeared, but Sara was still struggling and we made slow progress.
  We made our way to Mapleton Falls and rested at he bottom of the waterfall. It was a fantastic view, the water scarily fierce and Sara photographing all the way.
  On the way up Nick took the lead and set a good pace. It was quite a challenge and much faster than I would have done alone. I kept behind Sara to prevent her falling behind. Its hard walking at the tail end though and you find yourself looking at their boots more than any of the land around us.
  The camp was just after the summit and since it was already beginning to rain we set up camp as quickly as we could. Peeled the leeches from our legs, washed off and began to took shelter as the rain began to pour.
  Nick had been bitten twice yesterday and today Sara, who'd  screamed blue murder every time she found one, had been bitten once. They didn't stop when we were in our tents and their dark outline were visible flipping their way up the outside of the canvas. With the rain crashing down we crambed ourselves into the tent for two and while Sara read me and Nick had a rematch of scrabble followed my chess.

   Dinner was a rushed affair as we tried our best not to get soaked. We are an interesting combination of cuscus, mash, lamb stew and tomatoes pasta. Although cramped and damn the evening was great fun and I went to bed contented with my water bladder firmly on the outside of the tent. The slleping back was still damp but with my rain coat on I mannaged to dry it out well enough.
  Nick had washed and hung is clothes to dry on a set up washing line outside. He'd told me how it would prevent the due from wetting it.
  Sara's and Nick' tent was less waterproof than mine and as the heavens fell around four o'clock I wondered whether I should shout to see if they were okay, but I didn't want to wake them to check. In the few hours of dryness before bedtime Nick had hand washed his clothes and hung them to dry on a et up clothes line. He pointed out proudly that them been off the ground would prevent the due from settling and keeping them wet. In the morning I couldn't hear them above the rain, the pounding was so loud I needed to shout at the top of my voice.  I asked whether his clothes had escaped from due, he replied sarcastically that they had but at that point everything was wet and at least his smelt less vile than mine.

Day 3
   As soon as there was the slightest break in the weather we rushed around to pack up, and get on our way. We'd abandoned any notion of making it to Montville, Sara was walking worse than ever and the rain was unceasing. Instead we'd go to the Kondilla waterfall, then back up for breakfast at the cafe. The bus would pick us up and we'd be back in Brisbane in time to go back out for a workmates goodbye drinks.
   My rucksack was wonderfully light, having been relieved of both the three liter water bladder and two liters of red wine which we'd consumed the night before. The path was flat and it was easy walking. I also got the sense that Nick had found his rhythm and handled walking from the front a lot better than following. Sara was still struggling but neither complained or held us up, considering she'd been struggling since the very first day that was quite impressive.
  Once again I was shocked at how much water had appeared since my last visit. Just after the Flaxton picnis area there was another water fall which I'd not even realised was a river. It made me excited to see the larger fall further bellow. We passed a miniature stream on the way down and me and Nick took the chance to brush our teeth before making the final decent and we weren't dissapointed with out efforts. The waterfall was by far the largest I've seen, nearly eighty meters of a sheer drop for the river's volume of water to fall. Its noise reached us long before we say it. a good climax to our walk. Having posed for photographs we trudged back up and indulged in a full english breakfast at the flaxton barn. Its my third visit to this cafe and it really is a treasure, the food is wonderfula nd they didn't bat an eyelid when three wet and extremely smelly people walked in. The lady even remembered me from two months ago and asked me when I was heading back to England.


  The journey back was smooth and easy ending a successful and full three days walk. It taught me how much I still had to learn about hiking, dealing with the weather and planning group walks. I was far too ambitious and a little too confident. I could have managed the whole of the Great Walk in three days but not under those conditions, and not with a group of people with very mixed fitness levels.