6 Foot Track, New South Wales, Australia - 44 Kilometers

Day 1 - 15 Kilometers                                                                                                      10/02/2013

   I left Sydney late and only reached Katoomba at 1:00. Before beginning however I needed to get a locator beacon from the police station which would make that day's hike even later than I hoped. With instructions, a map and if I needed it even a compass I marched bravely into the small town full of danger and excitement. Very soon after I got lost and ended up in a residential street full of play grounds and schools. Since I was planning to go, straight after I found the damn police station, into the great wild where you need experience at perky things like navigation I could not bring myself to ask for directions. Eventually I did find it, and a little worried that they would point blank tell me not to go I entered. I'd checked the weather and there were predicted thunderstorms for the next few nights, a large one tonight and I wasn't sure at one point they would stop people from walking- never mind a English girl by herself. The worried however were unfounded, a very nice officer showed me how to use it and handed it over telling me in a good natured manner that the second day would be the tough one and to enjoy.
  After the disastrous night on the Great Ocean Road I had invested in a rain cover for my bag as well as wrapping everything in it in plastic bags. I'd also, having looked at the weather forecast and predicted temperatures (around 10 degrees), bought a sleeping bag liner in the hope it would keep me warm.
  The hardest part of the navigation, like on previous hikes, was simply getting to the trail head. You're forced to walk along a very busy highway without a footpath. I kept on looking for a better route and finding dead ends. I tried both sides of the road before giving up and making my way alongside the freeway, only to be stopped and given a lift within a few meters by a charitable driver. They dropped me off at the trail head car park.
   The first two kilometers were wonderful. It was horribly steep and it left, within half an hour of jumping down half meter deep steps, my knees and calves literally shaking but there was a feel of wondering down the rabbit whole and it exited me.  You decened into the valley floor, crossing half a dozen small streams and battling through overgrown foliage before heading through into farm lands. I thought it would be a little more wilderness but a clearly marked path was also a relief.

  Still walking alongside a narrow path you enter a series of privately owned properties, kangaroos and wallabies everywhere. Across the fields I encountered two or three more snakes and found my ability to scan the ground instantly improve ten fold.

  This little beauty is a red belly black, a poisonous but not deadly variety and in large numbers in the valley's fields. It was here that I saw four snakes in as many miles.

  The views were dramatic, rolling hills with cliff faces but always broken up by clumps of trees and clouds. After a few more kilometers, and a road crossing, I entered the forest and the path followed alongside the river bed. The floods in Brisbane hadn't affected up here yet and the massive rocks in the river bed were visible, although the areas where the water did flow would have been too deep to cross. The rocks splitting the current up were massive, smooth pebbled- times a thousand in size.
  About 1.5 kilometers from the campsite there's a wire bridge, about fifteen or so meters wide made only to support one person at a time. A photograph doesn't do it justice. Its horrible high and when your crossing it with a heavy backpack it feels far from stable. I haven't a few of heights but I am sensible careful and nervous of been thrown off a wire bridge over massive rocks ten or so meters bellow.

   Crossing the bridge was a scary, giggling and talking to yourself fun but scary. It wobbled just enough for you to believe it could flip over, and half way across the other size takes a long time to reach.

  A tad shakily I climbed down the other side, already having decided that I would make my way from here to the campsite and not go back the way I came. The bridge is there for the when floods make the river crossing, a kilometer or so further down the path,  too dangerous and while this would not be the case I preferred not to cross the bridge again. Crossing the bridge also will help with navigation and is, all round, a better route.
  However, it was at this point that I realized that I'd left my hiking poles on the other side.
  About twenty minutes later I reached an old camp site, which was along the Cox River is on the wrong side. I assumed it was the actual one and dumping my stuff searched desperately for the toilet and water tank. The toilet was a set of four semi erect walls, and a metal sheet as a roof. The toilet paper was soggy and muddy, while the whole thing smelt awful. I reasoned that, since it was a free camp site, they hadn't maintained it. The truth it that the actual campsite involves you crossing the river and walking another hundred or so meters.

  Desperate to put my tent up before the storm hit I didn't search any longer and went straight to setting camp. It had been raining a little on and off for the last few hours and I'd spent most of it praying that it wouldn't pour till the shelter was up. Someone must have been listening since I had ten minutes of no rain, and only that before the storm hit and it tipped it down. I set the tent close enough to trees for it not to be the highest point, and not too far underneath that the branches would fall on me. I was at the bottom of the valley so I hoped I'd be given a little shelter from the winds.
  It was a wonderful spot to sleep, the river barely five meters from me and not a sole in sight. It did cause me a little worry, my ignorance causing me to imagine flash floods coming and sweeping me away. The storm was fierce and as I lay in my tent I spent the next half an hour counting the seconds between the lightning and thunder. By doing this I could tell it was coming nearer and as it left me behind. What helped to make the experience more exhilarating than horrible is that all my bedding was dry, and I was warm and comfortable- the plastic bags and rucksack cover proved good investments and it was a very different night than the one I spent on the Great Ocean Road.

Camp Site at Cox River

Day 2                                                                                                                                      11/02/2013

  I was told the second day would be 'hard' and by god that was not an understatement. I think it showed how this particular hike's attraction is only half the landscape and the other half is the physical challenge. It consists of 20 kilometers of a up hill climb, first taking on Mini Mini Saddle Range before taking on the larger slope which ascends into the Black Range and low lying clouds.
  I woke quite early and consulted the map, struggling to find the path out. I crossed the bridge and headed to what my compass promised me was west. It wasn't that long after though that I realised that it was pointing west no mater what direction I pointed the damn thing. I'd been climbing for about twenty minutes when I turned back, deciding that I had already passed far too many 'Do Not Enter' signs. I considered recrossing the river but before hand walked passed to where I'd crossed and went the opposite direction, just to check what the closed fence told me. I'd dismissed it as the wrong way since it was obviously locked The sign, facing the other way said in bit red writing 'WRONG WAY'. I'd crossed too far down the river.
  I climbed over the fence and was instantly in a very well furbished camp ground, with 6 Foot Track information boards. There was also a large and full water tank for me to refill my bladder. I'd filled it with river water but since it had things floating in it I'd put off drinking it till I absolutely had to. Filling it from the stream, actually, had been quite a challenge since the current wouldn't allow me to fill it up more than half way. It was a relief, however, to have a clean and full bladder before the climb starter. I could see the path curving away from the campsite, and knew it was just the beginning.

  The climb was hard but doable. What I was struggling with the most were the flies. There were hundreds of them, at least ten or so on my rucksack at any one moment, others continually landing on my face. I hated it it. Spent quite a while shouting and swipping at them but all in vain.
  I'd nearly reached the top of Mini Mini Saddle when I stooped in a fresh bit to get rid of them. I spread the toxic bug repellant on me and all over the rucksack but even before I'd put it back on my back it was once more covered. I must have put almost half the tube on but it seemed like the only way to get rid of them was to walk faster than I was physically able to.
  Sying I made to put my rucksack back on only to jump with fright as a voice behind me, belonging to a jogger, offered to help me on with it. I'd only paused to pick up the bug spray but it must have looked like I was struggling with the weight. He was nice enough, and we exchanged the usual niceties. His 'poor you' when I told him my destination didn't bode well, he said I'd completed the mini version of the rest of the days walk and since, me been a relatively new hiker, that had been the largest hill I'd tackled it didn't bode well.
 I'd left camp at half eight but partly because I'd got lost at the start of the day, and because I was walking up hill the entire way, it was already two o'clock and I'd only completed eight or so of the twenty kilometers. A slight decline before the second range allowed me a breather and got rid of another kilometer.
  The track here isn't a walking path but a, as suggested by the hikes name, a six foot wide track. Not exciting but consistent and smooth terrain with little cover for snakes or other dangers. Steep though, and unyielding. The glimpses pf the valley bellow were beautiful by mostly it was nothing but trees blocking the view and copper coloured dirt. The beauty of this day, I found, was mainly in the butterflied which were unnoticeable (also copper in colour) until they take flight a few feet away as you walk past.

The seconds day, if it had to be encapuslated in a word is exactly what everyone promised- hard. I think if I was in a gym, or near public transport, I'd be unable to push myself that hard. You need to be in a  place where there is no out. At no point was I scared I wouldn't make it but I dreaded to think of what state I'd be in for tomorrows walk.
    When I passed the distance sign post telling me I still had another ten kilometers I turned off Harry Potter and switched for Disney and other comfort. I also stopped and made myself a pot of mash, which in truth did a lot of good.
  Another five kilometers later I felt a small thrill as I began to pass through the lower clouds, as everything was covered in mist. This was around five o'clock and I was beginning to worry that I'd be forced to set up camp in the dark.  Luckily the land leveled up a little, still heading upwards but it allowed me to quicken slightly. Every time I paused I could feel the pain in my legs and bum, and was horrible away that tomorrow they'd be expecting a rest that would not be allowed.   Yet with all this complaining and panting when I reached camp I felt like I'd achieved something, and it was with joy that I set up camp and lounged about for a few hours before sleep. I reached camp around 6:30 making it well over 9 hours walk- another new achievement.

  Today there was no rain. The fog however was so thick that I could only see ten or so meters in from of me, and made everything drenched. the camp site is a lovely enclosed area, fitted with a large water tank, toilets (with no toilet paper) and a picnic area. While it was, once more, deserted of people it did hold numerous other inhabitant. There must have been five or six kangaroos and wallabies grazing and wondering round the place- a true Australian camping experience.

Day 3                                                                                                                                    12/02/2013

  I slept so well I didn't wake till 10:00 am. Since the bus left at two o'clock I attempted to get myself moving, the bus I was aiming for been the only one all day heading back to Katoomba. The map said it would take me four and a half hours to reach them, but once I packed up I only had about three hours and forty minutes.
  The few minutes it takes to leave the tent are always the worst. Once I was on the way the walk was easy. It was a little ruined by loggers, and entire sections go along the road. In fact it seemed very soon that the walk was over and, on this day in particular, it was a rather dull one. It wasn't long after that that a golden eagle swooped across the path in front of me. It happened so fast I didn't even have a chance to breath in- I verbally exhaled in completely and pure awe.The track was nearly six feet wide and it took up over half of it in length along. The wing span was much much larger. It had such grace and power that I was walking on clouds the rest of the day. The whole three days had been made worth it for that second alone.
  The next five or so kilometers were a steep decent to the caves below. The Jenolan Caves were pretty dramatic, large and surrounded by beautiful scenary but my elgs were done in and would not be persuaded to move another inch unless it was towards the bus.

The Great Ocean Road was over a 100km but I'd  felt absolutely fine, this one had left them shaking and a wobbly as jelly. That said, it was a wonderful completion of my travels around Australia, and I'd achieved both of my goals that I'd spent the last few months training for. The Six Foot Track wasn't as beautiful as I'd expected, not as wild and not even very enjoyable but totally unmissable.

Snake in the drain near the caves

Great Ocean Road, Victoria

The Great Ocean Walk - 6/8 Days - 104 Kilometres

    The Great Ocean Walk was opened 7 years ago and runs from Apollo Bay to Glenample, just before the Twelve Apostles at Gibson's car park. While some crazy people run the return journey in a day most take a more leisurely route walking it between six to eight days east to west. The eight day itinerary is a bit too easy, some days consist of less than ten kilometres, meaning that you finish the walk before lunch time. Then again, if you wished to do a few side tracks, explore the land around the track or simple get away from everything, this might be the better plan. Each night costs twenty dollars for the camp site however and the idea of carrying eight days worth of food wasn't an attractive one. I chose the six days and five nights option. It involved an easy first day of ten or so kilometres followed by two days harder days, after which the itinerary is the same as the other one.

  Day 1- Apollo Bay to Elliot Ridge 10.3 Kilometres                                                         28/01/2013

Official Start of Walk- Apollo Bay

  Woke up around seven still sleepy after having slept over twelve hours. This was partly due to being childishly excited about the hike, but mostly  the fact that my hostel in Melbourne was a drugs den I did not feel particularly safe sleeping in. My hostel at Apollo Bay, 'Apollo Bay Backpackers Lodge', was lovely however and I was in bed by six. Moreover the gentleman who ran the place let me leave a bag full of things behind which saved me from having to carry the extra weight. I'd already arranged a food drop which meant I only needed to carry three days not six. The Great Ocean Road information centre, near the bus stop, provided me with tidal times. These are essential if you are planning to do the coastal sections of the walk- I'm afraid I'm going to avoid them at all costs but took them anyway just in case. I'm afraid I'm not a fan of hiking in sand, I've neither the patience or fitness it requires.
  Shifting my rucksack uncomfortably as I got use to the weight, I walked down to the official start point. Took the needed photograph with me pointing to where I was on the map and prepared to get started. Within a hundred meters I realized I still had the hostel door key and walked the ten minutes back to the to return it.
  Back at the start I made my way through the town. I had to consult my map quite a bit to check, the signs aren't at every corner, but so long as your on the road nearest the sea your on the right track.
  I slowly crossed from the town to farm land, my backpack already giving me grief. For the first five kms there were houses scattered across the landscape, the path easy with the feel of a country lane, pleasant but not yet exciting.

  One ear phone in, the other on the alert for snakes (not an advised technique) I finally got a rhythm as I giggled my way through Terry Pratchett's 'Interesting Times' audio book. The path meandered alongside the ocean, at one point offering the option to walk across the rocky shoreline. Attempting to get into the spirit I took a few photographs but none were at all dramatic, houses still polluting the view.
  The path entered a more forested area, rising and falling. Reached a car park and picnic area where I stopped and had a bite but eager to get on I followed the path down to sea level again, crossed the stream and began to climb on the other side. I reached camp at about 2:00pm and after setting up camp stood around and wondered what I should do for the rest of the day. Decided to take a stroll around the place. Promptly got lost and got back at around 5ish tired.   The camp was completely deserted. I'd expected it to hold at least a few other hikers but it turns out I was a week too late and everyone had gone home. The camp site was a lot like the ones in Queensland, consisting of a large wooden shelter, toilets, two large water tanks and camping tables. Very pretty and well worked into the landscape. Hard soil though and my tent pegs were instantly bent which boded well for the rest of the week.

  Day 2 - Elliot Ridge to Cape Otway - 24.7 Kilometres                                                     29/02/2013

  A sound woke me up three times night. Some sort of animal loud and close to my tent. The log book, present at each campsite for hikers to write notes it, talked of a strange monster they'd heard but not seen which had haunted their campsite. Sense told me that the dangerous things in Australia didn't make loud noises, were in fact quite small and could not break into tents. It was also a sound I recognized but couldn't place. Hard to put it down on paper in words, 'huckhuckhuck khaaaaaaaaa' noise is the closest I can get. It was as if some large creature was struggling to take in air and release it as he dragged its axe towards my sleeping helpless form. Sense is all very well in day light. Then on the third occasion I realised what it was. A koala bear was obviously in the tree above me. Grinning and feeling like a true bush girl I rolled over a fell straight back to sleep. Woke up later than I'd planned and packed up my camp in my usual hour. Saw my night's companion up in a tree before leaving, still calling out.

  The second days hike skips the Blanket Bay camp site and goes straight to Cape Otway. Leaving the shore line the first half of the day goes inland through stunning forests. The trail is a rather large dirt track, easy walking and relatively flat. What made it special was the glimpses of wildlife around you. First I spotted my first kangaroo, a mother followed my a child, crossing my path. It was barely a glimpse but left me grinning. Then barely a kilometre after I nearly walk into another koala sat dopilly in the middle of the road and barely bothering to look up at me as I approached. It had apparently gotten itself high on the uchalipses leaves. Its a miracle that they're not extinct with the survival instincts this one showed.
  The road eventually turns onto another track, a really pretty path canopied by trees and bushes. Still very easy terrain making a really idilic and peaceful walk. My companion audio book today was Dick Francis' 'Blood Sports' a rather dark crime novel about depression, a bit more morose than I expect out of my Dick Francis books.

  Soon you go back to the coast, another dirt road and eventually the actual Great Ocean Road leading up to the Cape Otway light house. A track runs alongside it with the occasional shriveled blackberry. I ate one or two but they weren't ripe yet.
  I should have, perhaps, walked to Blanket bay from Apollo Bay, joining those to legs and just doing the single one today so that I would have time to explore the light house. Since I reached it around four o'clock it was too late to enter. Stopped into the souvenir shop and bought a cold drink, the lady in there telling me rather severely to leave my pack outside, after explaining in more mollified tones that pack-packers tend to break things a lot. It is worth noting that this shop does sell camping gas and a few meals which might be helpful on the 8 day hike to stop you having to carry quite so much on the first three days.
  The camp site is about ten minutes walk away, higher up in the hills, hidden by tall bushes. Again deserted. Already quite cold I set up camp and settled in for the night. The campground was made up of sand like soil making pitching the tent a breeze.

  Day 3- Cape Otway to Johanna Beach - 25.1 Km                                                             30/02/2013

  Another first. I've read what to do if its raining when you wake, how to pack up camp without getting everything wet and have been waiting to see how I do. The morning shower wasn't heavy by Australian standards, just enough to ruin my stuff if I didn't have it packed away quickly. I did as much as I could in the tent. Then I carried everything I could the fifty or so meters to the shelter before returning to dismantle the tent itself. My guide book on hiking tells me to use the camping poles to prop up the outer flap while dismantling the actual tent beneath so that it remains protected by the rain. The hiking poles, however, did not keep up the flap very well and soon collapsed which meant the sand stuck instantly to the nights condensation.

   It took longer, nearly an hour and a half to pack all my stuff away and I left the campsite a little worried about time. My food drop up was at 4:30pm at Johanna Beach and I left the campsite at 9:30 which gave me seven hours to walk the 25 odd kms. To try to speed me up I allowed myself an hour of music from my ipod which was very nearly out of battery, my choice I confess been the lion king. Not high brow I know but lively and fun. I switched to my mp3 player, whose batteries were equally low, in the hop e I could squeeze a few hours of Dick Francis' melancholy before it went flat.
  The path continued to be enclosed for a few more kilometers, rising higher up above the sea. As on previous days I avoided the beech options and remained high on the cliff tops. Rugged and dramatic I wanted and the land around me was stunning, cliffs breaking up the landscape where the land had decades ago collapsed into the sea. Below which the waves crashed with frightening force. The bushes were coarse with deceptively bare soil underneath. The occasional movement suggested a passing wallaby or kangaroo but all stayed out of site.
  I reached Aire River at half eleven. After crossing the river the drive in campsite stretches along the water banks and the walk in campground is above. Again I was glad I'd decided to do the two stretches at once. I still had five hours to get to the food drop point so pausing I ate some lunch.
  From this point a sign warned me that there was maintenance and machinery on the path ahead. About 7 or 8 workers were stretched over about a kilometer or two ahead, cutting the sides back and tidying the path. All stopped and smiled or greeted me as I past. Pretending that I'd not been listening to my audiobook I returned to greeting, thanked them and hurried on.
  Then came the rain. At first it wasn't a great deal, as the afternoon wore on, it fell with increased vigor. From leaving the camp the sky had been cast over and it had threatened to pour for some hours. Half wanted to face a thunderstorm, the other was well aware how woefully by sack was prepared for it. My electronics were protected, the rest of my stuff however would have to rely on the packs protection. By about 2:30pm the rain had gotten considerably worse and, exposed to the sea, blew straight into my face. I was soaked through and my shorts were hanging low enough over my bum to nearly be fashionable- if I'd been an adolescent male.

Aire River

  Squealing as I lost my footing I relied on my hiking poles to keep me on my feet. The gradients on the second leg of the days walk had become steeper and with streams now flowing down them they were treacherously slippy. On the final decent to Johanna Beach in particular I was leaning on the poles as if my life depended on it. If I fell not only would I be covered with mud but probably slip a dozen or so meters before mannaging to stop myself. The path at this point was seriously steep and the streams gushing down it half a foot in depth. When I could I remained on the slightly harder sides of the path but near the end I was forced to wade through the water itself. I must have covered about a kilometer an hour.

Just before the rain really set in, five or so kilometers from Aire River

  It was during the decent the Mp3 finally gave out, yet the earphones remained in my ears till I reached camp, my hands fixed to my hiking poles and concentration on the path. Although hard and intimidating these last three hours were exhilarating. I only hoped that my sleeping back at least had escaped the drenching.
  Relieved as I was to have reached the bottom of the slope I found the beach scarier. Even rushing I reached it half an hour or so before high tide and the water was rising fast. Moreover behind me was a stream blocking any escape I might attempt if I did become trapped. The waves on this coast line left no allusion to the power which the tides would hold, and with a backpack I'd be helpless. Even if I discarded all my equipment I'm not a good enough swimmer to tackle that sea. With a new surge of energy I quickened my pace, determined to get off the beach as quickly as I could. The sand however was soft and I was barely covering two km an hour. At every possible inlet l looked for a path up and away.

A few kilometers from Aire River- Stitched Photograph

  A sand dune, although not clearly a path, had hundreds of foot print leading up it. Unsure now that I'd not missed the camp, and seeing that the sea had reached the rocks ahead of me and was crashing against the side of the cliffs I decided to climb the dune and check. Once I'd struggled to the top it was evident that the footprints belonged to carefree explorers and there was no path higher up. Climbing it I'd fallen twice, my feet sinking over a foot and the gradient somewhere between (I'm guessing) 35-40 decrees. So covered in sand, and a bit fed up, I went back to the beach. It was when coming down I realised I could run, flat footed due to the softness of the sand, down the dune. Even with the backpack I could hit a fair speed and it felt like I was jumping of a bouncy castle- worth the climb if there had been more time.
  Water was spraying off the rocks as I reached them, the rain even heavier and my hopes of having a dry night equally sodden. The beach on the other side of the rocks, that turned out to be barely ten meters across, was considerable larger and my fears of been drowned were relieved. A hundred meters from the rocks however I searched for my map and found it must have fallen from my pocket. Unsure on whether to turn back and look for it, crossing back over the quickly dissapearing rocks, or head on a rely on signs. I chose a compromised, I'd look a few hundred meters back, no further. I left my backpack on the beach. Luckily my search took only a few minutes, the map lying just on the other side of the rocks.
  It fluttered into my mind that I could get the food drop off service to give me a lift back to the hostel. There wasn't a doubt that I would be in for a hell of a night which I could easily escape.
 Finally the path stood out five or so hundred meters ahead.The drive in camp site stretches quite a way back, at lease eight or so hundred meters. I saw the G.O.R. shuttle van half way up the street, he signaled to carry on walking while he turned and we met at the entrance to the campsite. He gave me my food, didn't offer a lift back and I didn't request it. Before leaving he pointed to a far off fence leading to a steep path up the far hill- the walk in camp site was another kilometer from there.
  Another torrent of water was flowing down but since my boots were now wet through the problem was more the slipperiness. From the plastic bag full of food I now had I searched out the largest supply of chocolate and swallowed it feverishly in attempt to summon a little more energy and comfort myself. I was exhausted. Already I'd made up my mind that, if the campsite was deserted like the others, I'd set up camp in the shelter itself in an attempt to shield myself a little from the weather.
  On a sunny day the Johanna Beach hike in campsite would have been a real joy, a highlight of the walk. Its high up above the sea giving you panaramic views of the entire coastline. Far below a haze devideds the hills and inlets, created by the crashing waves against the rocks. It was one of the most spectacular views on the entire walk, and the tent pods were positioned so all you'd need do is open the flap to appreciate it. If I had a chance to revisit a certain campsite it would be this one.
  I dumped my stuff on the shelter's table and checking that I was in fact alone peeled my wet clothing off and put on the dry. That was the one waterproof thing I had, a small 4 liter waterproof sack for my clothing I kept on the outside of my rucksack. Now that my body was cooling, and the evening was approaching, I had to stump my feet to prevent to keep warm. The winds comes straight from the Artantic and in such a high point your left exposed. Unpacking I discovered that half of my sleeping bad was soaked, as was my mattress, and the rest of my stuff. All the pockets in my backpack were full, about a hundred millimeters each, of water.

Johanna Beach Shelter, and camp

  I put on my dry socks and a sandwich bag on each to prevent them from getting dirty and wet. My shoes were squeezed and stood upside down on the bench. Then I tackled the tent which was a challenge in itself. The ground of the shelter was concrete making my tent pegs useless. I'd have rather slept outside than gone back out in the rain.Thank god I had the rope, I'd only bought it a day before leaving because enough books told me I should. I tied as much as I could to the shelter pillars, table legs and bench. It wasn't torte but it stood. I put all my food and everything that wasn't dripping inside and as advised climbed straight into the sleeping back in the hope my body would dry it before the temperature fell. Because of the sleeping bag was wet not damp all that I managed to achieve what that the clothes I wore, which were dry, were now also wet. So much for the scorching Australian summer that would defeat the poor English girl, might have well stayed  at home and enjoyed the rainy weather there. In a mood by that point, the novelty of the challenge gone, I got back out of the tent and cooked some food. I made some instant mash as first, after something quick and comforting, and then cooked the actual meal of couscous and lamb. Fort he rest of the evening I boiled a few mugs full of water and held, blew and drunk it to try to prevent me from shivering.
  Rain finally stopped and the sky cleared as twilight fell. I left my shelter, got water, went to the toilet and took my camera from it's protective sandwich bag.

View from Johanna Beach Hike in Camp ground at twilight

   Not wanting to get my clothes wet again by getting back into the sleeping bag I put my rain coat back on and opened the exposure blanket. It came as part of my first aid kit for use in an emergency while waiting for rescue. It crumbled like tin foil as I opened it and wouldn't have saved a thing. I stuffed it in anyway and as night fell completely closed the sleeping bag around my head, my body completely emerged and as deep into it as I could go to try to get away from the wettest part near the mouth of the sleeping bag. After two or so hours of shivering I decided to use the last few hours of my ipod and played first Guilbert and Sullivan's Pirates of Penzance and then a little Merry Poppins. I caught an hour or so of sleep before my legs crampt, they needed to stretch but were curled to me for warmth. The tent wasn't torte and condensation began to drip on me, the rain coat prevented moisture from evaporating, trapping it against my skin and as it cooled making my clothes wet . Hardly as bad as those trapped in the North Pole or drinking urine out in the bush but a pretty rotten night nonetheless. The sun seem to take and age before rising.

  Day 4- Johanna Beach to Ryans Den - 13.8 Kilometres                                                01/02/2013

Fingers shriveled from the night

   I slept perhaps two hours in short intervals till I glimpsed day light. When I climbed out my fingers were still shriveled with water. Nothing had dried and would weight much more that day because of it. My legs were stiff beyond belief and my back wouldn't even acknowledge my backpack, which still sat dripping on the shelters bench. Moreover my admiration for survivalist like Bear Grills had turned to consternation that anyone would by choice leave a dry tent behind and sleep outside in the cold. I could barely get through a Australian summer night because of a little rain.
   I made myself porridge and considered my next move. I was tempted to walk the next two days worth in one, and if the weather continued to get worse push on to the end and see if I could phone for a lift from there. The weather forecast predicted a thunderstorm but I hoped that it had struck yesterday, arriving early and leaving today to the sun. It would be thirty of so kilometers to the twelve apostles which, theoretically, I could do by five o'clock. I kept my phone on that day in the hope of finding signal so that I could phone G.O.R. shuttle and  arrange for them to pick me up ahead of schedule.
  I used the plastic bag the food drop had been made with to waterproof my sleeping bag, two of the larger ones to cover my mattress. The tent was as wet as the bag was so I didn't bother with them. If the weather improved I'd hopefully reach camp in time to dry some of it and have good night sleep.

Morning view from Johanna Beach Hike in Campsite

  I placed a fresh pair of plastic bags over my socks and cringing inserted into my shoes. Once walking though they were they were fine. Even my wet backpack didn't bother me much and as my body warmed up my hands finally dried and I could enjoy the walk.  
     From the campsite you follow the spine of the hills inland across golden fields, dry from the previous months lack of rain. They were gentle mounds, a river curved like a snake in the valley bellow. They reminded me, with the forest in the distance between the hills on either side, of the 'The Princess Bride'.

An hour or so from Johanna Beach campsite

    From the hills the track heads in past houses and through farm land. One charitable person offered free water to hikers at their front garden gate. Eventually you head back west and down to the sea for a hundred or so meters. Before attempting the climb I took out my cooker and made myself some noodles, using my body to shield the flame from the wind. A few droplets fell threatening a repeat performance of last night but my luck held. I thought the camp was near the beach. I'd misread the map though and still had about two hours of walking to go. At this point I knew I wouldn't never have mannaged the three days worth of walking in one.
  Then blackberries. Four or so kilometers of nothing but blackberries and sea views. They were the juiciest and largest I've ever picked and I gorged myself on them till I felt sick. The hills were no problem since I split it up into bushes, only climbing a few feet when I'd taken all the berried in reach where I stood. It made the day. I was so grateful I had had no escape route the night before, since it made me appreciate everything so much more today.
  I also met my first short-nosed echidna (spiny anteater) hidden in the edge beside the path. A beautiful elegant nose with an impressive array of spikes a little like the English edge hog but much large and longer faced. Then shortly after I reached the Ryan's Den Campsite. I found it wonderfully deserted and sunny. I used the rope to create a clothes line and after raising my tent spread everything on every flat clean surface I could find. There was even enough light to recharge, using my solar re-charger, my MP3 player to give me half an hour of power. Not wanting to be far from my sleeping bag, at hand to grab it and shove it in the tent if it showered, I sprawled near by and basked in the sun. Thinking of very little I lay listening to the rustling in the foliage around, a kangaroo once in a while bounced across the clearing, another echidna wondered past burying its head in the ground every time it sensed me looking. 

  Later three men hiked in, all over fifty. We exchanged greetings and they moved on to set up camp. It was the first time I'd shared a campsite on any hike and it made me feel a little exposed. I took down my bras rather sharpish, especially the one covered in dirt and drying a nasty brownish colour. It soon, however, became evident that they were lovely. I fell asleep by seven so saw little of them. My sleeping bag was dry, my matress fully inflated, my clothes warm and the tent fully raised. I was in heaven.

Day 5- Ryan's Den to Devil's Kitchen- 12.8 Kilometers                                                  02/03/2013

   Slept in till eight having clocked over twelve hours sleep. While my aches had gotten worse I was warm and nearing the end. One more night. Taking no chances I once more waterproofed everything I could but the rain stayed away. My three gentlemen left before me which I was grateful since it meant they'd be unable to over take me. I planned to take my time today.

  I was told after that this was the hardest day on the hike and I did struggle. No extensive climbs as such just many, the track dipping up and down galleys every kilometer or so. My legs were no longer up for it. My heart fell every time the land descended again knowing what would come after. A young couple past me and were far ahead as soon as we reached our next climb. Eating more nuts I suppressed slight feelings of jealousy over their partnership, reminding myself that I loved hiking alone.

  Along this stretch of the walk I saw my first snake, a thick brown one. Not having had anything to listen to I'd been a well behaved hiker, my poles pretecting me in part and eyes peeled. Yet when this particular snake came across my path I was still eating my nuts and grumbling, the hiking poles tucked beneath my arms. Luckily the snake had more wit than me and got out of my way. Within the next five hundred meters I saw two more, these ones black and long.
  Once I reached the cable look out however I met them again, obviously not only me finding the going tough, and there too w
here my three gentlemen. We talked for a while before parting ways again, them taking the Wreck Beach route, I going inland.
  When the campsite came it was out of nowhere. Estimating that I had another hour or so it was a surprise when the shelter rose above me. Because the track inland is newer than the hike in site, and the older trail went along the sea front before backtracking to the camp ground, I entered the campground through the back. The best site, if you get there first, is on the highest point where a bench looks over the ocean. The couple were already in place in each others arms bathing in the sun. Wheres a tsunami when you need one?
  I settled further down in a more sheltered area near the entrance. The ground was hard so I bend my remainder pegs getting my tent up. It didn't bother me a jot knowing that tomorrow I'd be sleeping on the train and then in a hostel in Sydney. With this in mind I made myself a shower, hanging my spare water bladder from a tree and standing beneath it, keeping a sharp look out for the three gentlemen who's not yet arrived. I even managed to shave.
  Spent the rest of the afternoon dozing and reading, moving as little as I could manage. Later on on the the gentlemen wondered over and invited me to join them for wine and cheese, I agreed and although I'd already eaten and didn't feel like drinking sat and talked to them for an hour or so. This was a taster of what I imaged the campgrounds would be like, more communial and a sharing place to boast your hiking adventures to people who'd share your interest. These men however were several leagues above me having done this for decades. They were marvelous and I wanted to live my own version of their lives, cycling across Europe, traveling around the world, hiking in Tasmania, New Zealand and completing trails such as the Camilo de Santiago. Two were retired engineers and the other a orthobedic sergean who still volunteered every year in parts of Africa. Real characters, obviously intimate friends and passionate about the things they did.

Devil's Kitchen Campsite

Day 6 - Devil's Kitchen to Gibson's Steps- 14.8 kilometres

 I've no idea why but I woke up and my legs were as fresh as the first day. Perhaps yesterday was spend recovering from the day before and lying around all afternoon did the trick. It was as if I'd not walked the last five days. My shoulders were less happy but the pack now was light and I felt energies and sorry that it was ending. My lift was meeting me at 1:00pm and since I left camp by half seven I had plenty of time. My three gentlemen said they might also be catching the same lift so bidding them goodbye I exchanged numbers so that they could contact me if necessary.

  That day's stretch was mostly level with only a few minor inclines. Easy and after the river you're practically at Gibson's steps. It took, in the end, only four hours to complete and I reached the end point by half eleven. From this point, I was a little dissapointed to find, you can only see the very first of the apostles. Not knowing how far the others were I daren't go further. Instead I climbed down the steps to the dramatic beach full of other tourists. The car park above was nearly full and it felt very slightly strange to have so many people around me. It's not the same for them though, they didn't walk a hundred kilometers to be there and as I walked along the beach I felt slightly apart from them. No doubt by car they'd see things much more dramatic, and a larger variation, and in such a amount that this beach was but a pit stop.

Gibson's Steps, the image is distorted, the beach flat but it does give a good impression of the size of it.

  Gibson's steps lacks the jaw dropping beauty I wanted at the end of the hike but, as the shuttle driver kindle showed me, if you cross the road and walk barely five or so hundred kilometers further down the twelve apostles are waiting. The walk as a whole is a beautiful journey going through rainforests, beaches, farm land, and fields. Its more about the contrasts between them than any particular destination.

Looking back towards Gibson Steps

  My three gentlemen did catch a ride back in the same shuttle and I accepted off them a lift back to Melbourne from Apollo Bay. I think it's the ride back, when someones driving you sixty odd kilometers an hour that pride begins to sink it. When I reached the car park at Gibson's steps I felt ready to walk another five or so kilometers, it didn't feel like it should have ended here (on a side not the track is been extended in the next few years) and I'd not accomplished what I'd hoped to- not broken any of my limits. It was easy, in the sun and waiting for my lift, to forget the damp night and the day before. But as I sat, for over an hour, watching the landscape I walked flash past I felt true pride. Even though I knew the distance I didn't expect it to take to long to get back, and I had to fight back a clownish smile rising to my lips in front of the other passengers- who having done this for years felt none of the same goofy satisfaction.  It doesn't matter that hundreds perform the same hike every year, thousands, that some run it and others can do in a couple of days. You feel as if you've accomplished something special, irrespective of anyone else. No self doubt, you completed something you weren't knew you could do, and because you did your excited to do something even longer and harder.

      
 

  I've just finished packing my rucksack and am now procrastinating on my computer until I'm tired enough to go to bed. I'm off to Melbourne to watch the Tennis Tournament and then I'm hiking the Great Ocean Road. It should take about six days and will therefore be the longest hike I'll have ever done. After that there is a week in Sydney followed by another week hiking in the Blue Mountains.
  Here is a list of what I'm taking with me. I'm posting it simple because I remember searching every where for one when I first started. It's pretty much a list of things I've read that other people take and thing are important. My pack will way, with food and water, about 17 kilograms (over 35 pounds or roughly 2 and a half stone) and from what I can judge will probably break my back. I've decided to not take a jumper of the sleeping back liner so if I get cold there's online proof (unless I edit the post on my return) that it was a conscious act of stupidity. I just can't fit it in and its 40 decrees down there a the moment. Surely it wont be needed.

OBJECT	WEIGHT KG
Shelter
Tent	1.9
Rucksack	2
Sleeping Bag	1.5
Mattress	0.6
Sleeping Bag liner	0.05
General
Camping Stove	0.6
Utensils	0.02
Hiking Pole	0.5
Shovel	0.1
First Aid Kit	0.2
Soap
Toothbrush and Toothpaste	0.05
Compass	0.05
Map-
Great Ocean Walk	0.1
Blue Mountains	0.1
Knife	0.1
Sandals	0.6
Head light	0.05
Sun protection	0.1
Bug repellent	0.01
Notebook & Pen	0.05
Electronics
Ipod	0.2
MP3 player	0.03
E-book	0.3
Solar re-charger	0.15
mobile	0.5
Camera	1
Clothes
Trousers	0.4
Towel	0.5
Shorts	0.2
Underwear	0.15
Socks	0.1
Jumper	0.38
Shirt	0.15
T-shirt	0.15
Hat	0.1
Rain coat	0.25
Bandanna	0.05
Shoes	1
Camping Permit	0.02
Passport	0.05
Water	4
Food (0.5 x 6 days + emergency extra)	4

  I'll post in between the weeks of hiking, hopefully the hostels have computers that will allow me to do so. I can't wait to be under way. Its going to be a challenge but I've spent the last two months in the gym getting ready for it.

Flaxton Camp Ground

  I've been back three times to Mapleton for weekend hikes, and this time with a half decent camera. To prevent repetition I wont recount the hikes in detail but there are a few things which are worth recording.
  My first trip back there was after a week of gym and every muscle ached. I hoped the walking would loosen me up a little but it took three hours before I got any rhythm at all. I also took the wrong turn and made my quick 10km to camp into a fun 17km across hilly terrain. My plan was simple, I'd disembark at Mapleton and walk along Dalicia Road all the was to the camp ground. As I walked the last two kilometres to what I thought was my destination only to discover it was in fact Ubajee Walkers Camp and a full days hike from Thilba Thalba Camp Ground.

View from Gheerulla Valley viewpoint

  When I finally did get there I collapsed in my tent and fell asleep. I'd not managed to book the campsite (since the Queensland government website breaks down once in a while) and found myself having dreams about rangers carting me off and giving lectures on why I shouldn't be walking by myself. I spent six months volunteering in Israel before coming here, I worked with two year olds in a nursery. For the last few weeks I keep having dreams with them in it. On this particular night after the lectures from the rangers we boarded to train to go back home there was a tsunami wave heading towards us. It was when Israel and Gaza were at each others throats and I'd spent the last week checking the news every half an hour.

View walking through Obi Obi Road towards Baxter Creek Falls

  The next day I stuck to the original plan and remained on Delicia Road all the way back into town where I bought lunch in a cafe and met a couple of bikers. The husband was a massive chap, very tall as well as broad and had been in the army all his life. We talked of Israel and he told me all abut the different nationalities of the soldiers he'd fought with when serving in Rwanda. They game a lift back to the train station which I accepted, grinning while I imagined how my Grandma might react, and got home in time for supper.

  The third trip was much more successful, I walked from Mapleton through to Flaxton, and then next day through to Montville. Those who plan to do the Great Walk should know, that if you are planning to do it in reverse, the road up from Barron Pocket Dam is incredible steep with actual signs warning cars of the incline.  It took only forty minutes in the end, and the terrain was concrete and therefore easy but still not a climb you'll appreciate after the seventeen you've just walked from Flaxton.

  Wanting to challenge myself I decided to walk three days of the Sunshine Coast Great Walk in two, travelling from Mapleton the longer route to Thilba Thalba, and from there walking back along Dalancia road  until I reached Daymar Road heading south towards Mapleton Falls. I reached Flaxton well before dark and spent a lovely afternoon reading and listening to music lying on the picnic tables. The next morning I walked the last five kilometres to the bus stop in time to get back to Brisbane and work. Each day was roughly twenty kilometres. I stopped a lot the first day taking as many photos as I wished and found that through doing this I enjoyed myself a lot more since it allowed to pace myself and actually appreciate the landscape around me.

  It was just before camp on the first day that I was captured dusk looking over Coolabine, stitching the photos together to create this panoramic photo which I'm quite proud of. I also ended the hike by having a cooked breakfast at the cafe at the entrance to Kondalilla Falls, its a treasure of a place well worth the visit.  With another hour or so to spare I sat quite happily at the bus stop and read my book.

Sunshine Hinterland- 65-70 kilometers over 4 days

  The Sunshine Hinterland is an Australian medium grade hike stretching between Baroon Pocket Dam and Mapleton Forest Reserve- travelling through the Kondalilla National Part, Flaxton, to and Mapleton National Park. The landscape couldn't be more different than that of  Moreton Island. The majority of the walk was in deep rain forests, passing waterfalls, going over and through creeks as well as the occasional town between parks. 58 kilometres is a comfortable distance for four days and while my first hike hadn't exactly gone to plan I was confident that I could accomplish the walk without re-enacting any previous stupidities. 

  This time I thoroughly went through my equipment,  spreading them out outside, and systematically packing each item in a specific place. My torch in particular I placed carefully at the top of the sack so that it would be easily accessibly if I made camp after the dark. All the food  was divided into resealable bags, each numbered with its correspondent day. I bought two expensive freeze dried meals to see what they were like but mostly my supplies consisted of supermarket instant meals for dinner, porridge and nuts for lunch and cereal bars for everything in between. I replaced my two and a half litre bladder with a three litre one in the hope it would prevent me from running out again, I also packed my newly acquired chlorine water treatment tablets. Everything was weighed individually and the items added up as the books have instructed me to do. It came to just under 17 kilos. The backpack is not meant to weigh, for women at least, any more than a third of their body weight in order for her to carry it comfortably- I am sad to say that this is not a hard target for me to achieve. Moreover as soon as it reached 17 kilos I stopped adding the weights up because it was getting too heavy- I figured like calories if they weren't recorded they didn't count. Luckily to counter act this logic I also brought a good supply of pain killers for when my back started to ache.

  The biggest problem for when looking for possible walks in Queensland Australia is the lack of public transport outside of the cities. If you don't have a four wheel drive you can't get to most of the starting points, and if you don't have a car you can't even get to the near by towns. This is a subject I have complained about a lot but in truth I wouldn't change it: the more access these places have the more vulnerable they are to been polluted and the more the wildlife is intruded upon. It has however narrowed my options considerable. I had originally planned on walking the Gold Coast Hinterland but found it impossible to reach without spending a small fortune. The Sunshine Hinterland is one of the few exceptions. It has a hinterland connecting bus which leaving from Nambour stops at Mapleton, Flaxton and Montville three times a day. From these downs its a matter of an hour or two walk to the parks. 

  

  Day 1 - Baroon Pocket Dam to Flaxton walkers' camp- 15.9km 

    Considering how much I struggled in putting up camp on my last hike I wanted to make sure this time I reached camp with enough day light to set up. I'm also, when not hiking, am somewhat nocturnal. I waitress and my shifts end very late at night meaning that I'm used to sleeping in till late morning. On almost all my hikes I'm ready for bed at seven in the evening since I'm ill accustom to dragging myself out of bed at seven in the morning in order to travel to the start of the hike. Because of this I decided to hire a car to pick me up at the train station and take me directly to Baroon Pocket Dam. The train left Brisbane at 8:30 and arrived at the Lousbrough station at ten o'clock.
   I waited for a little while at the station unsure of exactly where we'd agreed upon to meet. At ten past I attempted to ring to ask where she was, no one answered. Unsure of what next to do I popped over the road and bought a lighter in case my matches got wet. There was a possibility of rain on the third day and while uncertain of how I'd managed to get the tent up without getting everything wet I was excited to try. I am planning to walk the Pennine way in June and since it will take me over two weeks and its set in England I suspect I'll be wet the majority of the time. Its a skill which I need to learn. 

  It took the lift another forty minutes to come, she phoned to inform me she was running late since she'd been having her hair cut and the appointment had been delayed. She came with wet uncut hair so I found it hard to be too put out. Moreover she talked me through the different aspects of the park, the wild life and gave me a little history of her family and son whose just returned from teaching in Japan. Since apparently I reminded her of him, and I suspect because she was so late, she charged me only twenty dollars for the forty minute ride. 

  The section I was to walk travels through deep valleys along Obi Obi Creek to Konalilla Falls, which is the Aboriginal name for the waterfall meaning rushing water. It was my first ever site of a rainforest and I felt elated and buzzing with anticipation. Before starting I took out my trekking poles, took some photographs of me pointing at my position on the map (which I saw a picture of Simon Armatage doing when hiking the Pennine Way) and set off. Although I was struggling with the weight of the backpack the actual terrain was easy. Compared to walking on Moreton Island it was a joke. Moreover I was enjoying a completely foreign landscape, trees bigger by far than any I've ever seen, roots which stretch out meters wide and others that fall from branches five inches in diameter.

  I wanted to hike through a rainforest ever since we studied them in high school and I always planned to get rich enough to hire a guide and do it. Now that I'm older and more sensible I've dispensed with such responsible precautions. I'd left my plans with my grandparents and the more I walked the more I realised how much the rangers had tamed the track for hikers. At every junction lay a sign post and distance left to the destination. You would truly have to be a imbecile to get lost.

  Both in Israel and in England it was hard to be too far from a town or city. Even if there were dozens of miles between you cities were visible in the distance. Half the time the forest stretch out ten kilometers long but only half a kilometer wide with the town on either side hidden by a line of trees. So when I looked out from the Baroon Lookout it took my breath away. Yes there was the dam in the distance but that was it. The rest was forest and the direction I was going was taking further away from everything I knew. I couldn't stop grinning. 

  The hardest part of the walk was the climb after the falls, the steepness enough to test my fitness and the pain killed ineffective against the relentless weight of my pack. The waterfall I'm afraid was dry, the lack of rain reducing the torrent to a trickle against the bare stone face. A passing couple took a photograph of me nonetheless with me in front of baring my rucksack proudly and pointing my toes in my shoes in at attempt to elongate my legs. Hiking for me seems a lists of first experiences and me wearing shorts is right up there. I'd have to be far from a city or town before wearing a dress or skirt without leggings or short which show my legs above the knee.
  There was a rather dull kilometre walking through a small town, breaking the sense that your far removed and alone. This section in fact had a lot of walkers around it on day trips out with family or friends. A gentlemen I passed walking through the town nodded towards my trekking poles and asked if I was going skiing  I pointed out that I would be the one laughing when the snow started.

  

  I reached camp by four and had little problems setting up the tent. I refilled my water bladder from the water tank and added the water treatment tablets. Setting up my bed and taking out my kindle, ipod and other luxeries and placed them all inside the flap encase of rain. The camp site consists of a single wooden building with a dry toilet and around ten or so small clearings in the wood, each divided from each other by trees, for the tents. The pods have a wooden table and three of four square meters cleared space for the tent. The ground it flat dirt but soft enough to push in the tent begs. 

  There was a slight misshap with the camp stove where I nearly set myself on fire but it was quickly resolved. Far from been scared for myself I was horrified by the absurd thought of setting the whole forest on fire and having to face the rangers afterwards.

  I was asleep by seven but woke again at 12:30 and struggled to get back to sleep. This I must have managed successfully since  when I once more gained consciousness it was 8:30. I'd had the strangest dream that I'd somehow taken a baby kitten into the tent and the mother and other kittens were trying to get it back. In their efforts they ripped the mosquito netting. I finally opened the flap and handed it back. They left and I woke and found the netting torn. I was very put out that my new tent was already damaged. After which I woke up properly to find it very much intact and a wild turkey searching for food outside. I read this dream as my concerns about the wild life and since I was so horrifically ignorant of it I used in my dream the only animal I had any knowledge of- a domestic cat. 

  

Day 2 - Flaxton Walkers' Camp to Ubajee Walkers's Camp - 13.1 Kilometres 
  I woke up energised and relieved to find that, unlike last time, I could not only walk but do so without a limp or walking sticks. Crouching behind my tent in case someone might appear and see me as I changed. Understandably satisfied with myself I packed up and promptly smashed the screen of my kindle. The kindle has been my constant companion in Israel and was a reward for graduating- that said of all the things I might have lost it was the least essential. Which reminds me, if any one actually reads this do not bother buying the overpriced Magellan explorer 110 it is a waste of money. Its a satelite tracking decide, like a tomtom, and it does track you but it shows no walking tracks and yesterday promptly shut itself off and refused to turn on again. Its only use to tell you how far you've walked and help if your lost and want to retract your steps- but with spare batteries it simply weighs more than its worth.
  The track from Flaxton Walkers' Camp slopes down hill, the path quickly becoming much harder to walk on with loose stones and steep drop-offs. Near the top a sign informs walkers that from that point only 'experienced walkers' should proceed. I started grinning again. The tracks decent ends in another waterfall, smaller but wilder than Kondallila Falls. The lack of pedestrians added to its charm. I'd not seen anyone since the day before. It also included a suspension bridge which allowed me to pretend I was in Indiana Jones.
  From the waterfall I continued west, drudging up a steep climb to Mapleton Falls look out. At some point in the thirty of so minutes it took me to reach the look out I found a good rhythm. I was sweating but at no point did I feel the need to stop or even pause. At the top, once through the picnic area, I pulled out my compass and attempt a little navigation. It was navigation in it's simplest form: the car park has a road running through it and I was unsure in which direction to go. The books told me to trust my gut if uncertain, my gut told me to turn left but after consulting the map I turned right.

  The promised rain came and I took out my waterproof coat ready to face it. Since it was raining and the sun had stopped beating down on me for a while I found I drunk much less and the constant worry about water abated. As I made my way through the lower rainforests across Dalicia Road and along the Linda Garrett track I found that I'd collected a companion along the way. A leech had attached itself to my wrist and I completely unconscious of the fact only saw it once it had broken through the skin. It was my first encounter with a leech and I found in my horror and outrage I became three times as English. I demanded out loud to know what the hell it was doing. It did some kind of cart wheel thing, flicking itself along my finger as I attempted to flick it off. The open bite continued to bleed for a while later.  Once the leech attaches itself I later learned, it give you an aesthetic, and then secretes a anticoagulant enzyme into the wound to prevent it from clotting. A friend at work described it very adeptly as a person attempting to drink through a straw and been prevented because of the thickness of the liquid, and therefore waters down the drink to make the process easier and quicker. Because of this my wrist bled for quite some time, the bite mark a few millimetres wide. At the Ubajee I found three more on my shoe and quickly dropped them off before setting up camp. The rain had stopped and the tent was up and meal made by four o'clock.
  Desperate to wash I filled up my mug at the water tank and hiding in the toilet hut rinsed myself off. The tap wouldn't stop dribbling and worried I would waste the entire water supply and climbed down and turned it off at the base. An hour later and I still could not turn it back on. The nearest water supply was nearly three kilometers one way and I'd earlier mixed my remaining water with a orange cordial mix. Unsure of what to do next I spent another fruitless hour attempting to mend the tap again but it was well an truly broken and the only thing my frustrated kick did was make me look around in case a teacher saw. It was clear from my map the nearest water supply was in the Mapleton Day centre back the way I'd walked and in the opposite direction I'd planned to go. On top of this the next days walk was meant to be one of the hardest and I had no assurance that there would be water when I finally got to this further and more remote camp site. I decided to play it safe, get up early and do the extra six kilometres before setting off again along the actual walk.
  That decided I sat down and ate my orange squash flavoured Risotto before going to bed already missing my kindle and wishing I wasn't suck a clouts.

Day 3- Ubajee Walkers' Camp to Mapleton Day centre- 5-6 kilometres round trip
            Ubajee Walkers' Camp to Thilba Thalba Walkers' Camp - 12 kilometres 

  Extracted directly from hikking journal -

'I't just occured to me while writing this that is should be winter and is, in fact, back home. Instead of stuck inside with the heating on full belt I'm sat on a look out in the summer sun. The campsite is the best so far, for a start the tap on the water tank is brand new and working. Like the last two not a sole in site, in fact I haven't seen anyone for the last day and a half, but unlike the other two it has a view over looking the valley and a clearing above which should allow me to star gaze tonight'. I'm sat writing this looking out at the rainforest valley. I can't see a house or any sign of human beings anywhere, just miles of untamed forest. I don't think, unless I'd walked to this spot, I could trully appreciate its beauty. Perhaps its like not enjoying a painting quite as much unless you yourself have painted, your eye isn't tuned in or after trying to play tennis for years you see a professional do it: his movement and skill is more evident since you've seen them before and understand how they break down into little bits.  On the other hand, where I'm sat on the rocky lookout, I seemed to have upset an ants nest and my feet are starting to burn so I'll take this note book back to the picnic area in which are planted two oversized tables that remind me of the giant's town in C.S.Lewis' Silver Chair. I'm quite aware of the truth that this is not actual wilderness, not like the Rockies or areas of the Blue Mountains, but for my second hike its as far out as I dare to go.
  My stuff in spread out drying and my ipod is plugged into the solar panel recharging. I have fresh water which doesn't, unlike the stuff I got from Mapleton Picnic area earlier today, smell like pee. In a few more minutes my chlorine tablets should have finished making it fit to drink and I can start cooking. I have food and everything I need and the thrill of the days walk and where I am is not wearing off. I haven't smiled this much in a while...'

  I woke up early in the morning, around 5:00 and got up knowing I still needed water and only had a mouthful left of the orange squash in my bladder. Took me till 6:00 before leaving, but the day wasn't shaping up to be a hot one and I had the rest of the morning to get to the next camp site. Moreover my rucksack, with two days food supply gone and now no water was starting to be much more manageable. It wasn't till eight that I left the picnic area. The water from the taps was disgusting, distinctly yellow and smelling exactly of what the colour connoted. Unsure of what to do I added extra chlorine tablets and prayed I that it wouldn't make me sick. Ate a porridge breakfast while I attempted to dry my sodden clothing and set back towards Ubajee walkers' camp and the beginning of that days hike.

  As I made my way towards the path I forced myself to make the quick detour to the viewing platform, I did so becuase I felt I should rather than because I wanted to. I was right to do so since I could see from there what I was entering into.  The deep set valley ahead of me ranged for dozens of kilometres in the distance.
  As I began another decent, knowing with dread that it would equal a painful ascent soon after, I passed another sign warning me that only experienced walkers were allowed beyond that point. This cheered me up and adjusting my rucksack started down. My trekking poles saved me a few times but the sign was a little over the top. The path was steep but no actual skill was required to navigate it. It finally flattened at the bottom and turning left I headed towards Gherulla Falls and the eventual mark stone for the end of the walk. It's worth noting that while this is the finish line you will have another two hour walk before you can get in your car or catch a bus.
  I'd tried wearing trousers that day but by the beginning of the climb back up the other side of the valley I gave up. My shorts were smelly and wet with the morning due. I'd attempted to air them overnight but by the morning they were much too wet to wear. Too hot to continue with Cole's own brand trousers I'd cleverly bought instead of the over priced hiking ones I changed back into my damp shorts. To think that the day before yesterday I'd hesitantly crouched behind my tent to chance...today in the middle of the logging track I stripped without a thought. The lack of any other humans for the last twenty or so hours had brought out my inner nudist and later in camp I remained equally brazened walking around quite happily with barely anything on.
   It was about this time a saw my first lizard, a meter and a half long beauty I believe to be called a Monotor Gonna lizard. He was sunbathing on the track just ahead of me, I approached slowly and it crawled along beside me for a while before slipping through the vegetation and out of site. Later I saw another one which startled climbed straight up the nearby tree. They make such a racket that it sounds like a large creature is crashing towards you.

   The climb up to the camp site was the longest so far and I found only by walking very slowly could I make any progress without stopping every ten feet. Five kilometres from Thilba Thalba Walkers' Camp I checked my water supply to find I had barely a cup's worth left. Taking another detour to another look out I found myself looking over what I'd just walked through. This lookout was much more to my taste, no railings or benches, just a rocky edge before the cliff. Laying out my still damp clothes I used the last of my water and made myself a hot chocolate munching another cereal bar in place of my lunch. The view, although similar to the last few, had lost non of its potency and it was only the heat of the sun which made me leave my perch. By this point it was one o'clock and I guessed that I'd be able to get to the camp site before two giving me much of the day to play with.


  The walk was a pleasant one, lasting a bit too long near the end as I grew tired and worried whether the water tank as this camp site would work. As I reached it I went straight to the tank and in relief refilled my bladder and added the tablets even before deciding where to camp. My next problem was that I could not raise my tent, the ultra-lite tent pegs bending the instant I tried to push them into the starched ground. It was impossible. In the end I decided to try to tie the inner tent upright on the wooded tables, only using two pegs at the very end to keep it upright. There didn't seem any danger of rain and I liked the idea of been able to see the sky while sleeping. The only drawback was that ten or so inches near the rear of the tent would be suspended over the grounds between the wooden bench and the ground. This meant I'd have to sleep scrunched up. But it also raised me from the ground meaning I could sit at the entrance of the tent without any fear of creepy crawlies or snakes.

  After writing my journal I made another attempt to wash myself only using a cup of water again in order not to empty the water tank for the next person. The scariest thing about hiking I've found is running out of water. There's been so little rain all the creeks are dry and without the water tanks you could get yourself in very real trouble.
   I made dinner and listening to King Lear took my sleeping bag, my knife and torch the two hundred meters from my tent to the look out. The ants must have gone home so settling down I wait for the stars to come out. It seems to take an eternity and I was horrifically tired even though it was barely half seven. This however is the only camp site where trees haven't blocked my view and I wanted to star gaze looking over the rainforest valley. I lay there for nearly two hours, thinking very little and only moving as parts of me fell asleep.

Day 4-  Thilba Thalba Walkers's Camp to Mapleton Town centre - Aprox. 17 kilometres

      I struggled to sleep all night, my legs kept on cramping and my arm kept on going dead under my head. When I woke up an inch large horse fly had developed an overzealous interest in me and was quickly squatted and dispatched to its maker by my bra. Packing up camp took an eternity. It was near about this time that I realised that yesterday I had in fact come the wrong way. The last section of the walk goes round a circle track and I'd taking the much shorter route to the camp site only travelling a third of the circuit. Wary as I felt I couldn't go home without completing the entire circuit, it would mean I hadn't completed the Sunshine Coast Great Walk, so instead of the 9 kilometres back to the Gheerulla Falls I turned North West. Needing a rhythm I played my way through half a dozen musicals. The creek side might support a variety of bird life but I saw none as my own screeching will have scared most of them away.
  As I climbed down back to the valley floor I was relieved that I'd made yesterdays navigational mistake since the ascent on this side of the valley was considerably steeper and longer than the one I'd endured the day before. The track along the creek became much more obscure but at no point was it lost. The terrain was uneven and never flat making very tiring work. It's beauty was ruined by the lack of rain. At best there were pond size puddles of stagnant water. I'd hoped to swim but there wasn't a chance in hell of me swimming in that. If I'd come during a wetter season I'd be forced to constantly cross running water which would have been much more exciting. As it was I lost any rhythm and ate twice as much as previous days desperate for some energy and increasingly aware of my own body odour  What was worse I knew what was awaiting me just before Ubajee walkers' camp. Over two hundred meters to climb in less than a kilometre and a half, after a ten kilometre trek along the valley floor. I suspected it would take me longer than when I came down it.
  At the base of the hill I once more ran out of water. While inconvenient I knew at least I was heading for home now. It also made a big difference that I knew exactly where I was and what to expect when I got there. The hill was hard but doable. It took me probably only half an hour to climb and another fifteen back to the Ubajee camp site. I dropped in the hope that the tap might have started to work again. Two rangers were there mending it. I asked innocently whether it was broken and when they said yes I smiled and said 'never mind' backing off before they could suspect me of having kicked it. They checked I didn't need any water and after I assured them that I had plenty started off towards town. As I reached the first house I began to look longingly at the garden taps. Resisting the urge to trespass I covered the last five kilometres easily, the roads making the walking mindless. On the way I passed a wonderful garden full off large sculptures made out of recyclable material of kangaroos and crocodiles, soon later came the town. When I reached Mapleton town centre and bought a litre and a half of lemon squash and sitting in the town park drank the lot.
  My lady in the car picked me up and dropped me back at the station where a train was waiting to bring me back to Brisbane. From the city centre I took a bus back home attempting the entire way to keep a meter distance from anyone who might smell me. By the next morning, after a night in my own bed and free access to water taps and fresh clothes, I was ready to go again. Unlike my overnight hike on Morton Island this one has left me more invigorated than exhausted. I think it will be different matter when I need to walk a longer period of time, and my body will struggle, but I am getting fitter and learning from my mistakes. Next time, for a start, I'll be bringing another litre of water in a separate container which I only touch in an emergency. I think water management is the most important thing I need to learn.