April 2016

Saturday 23^rd April 2016

I flew over on Saturday morning with the Carlton Football team who were to play Fremantle on Sunday. I got my gas from Ray’s in Midland and my Personal Locator Beacon from BCF – who helped me get registering on line completed.

Then off to the Ibis in Murray Street Perth as there were still little bits and pieces to get and post off some things I did not need on the walk. Ibis gave me a free drink at the neighboring Bar which I took up and had one of their pizzas to carb up for the next day. An early night followed.

Sunday 24^th April 2017.

I woke early and finalized the packing then off for my complimentary Ibis breakfast so I was well fuelled for this momentous Sunday.

I got a Taxi to the Kalamunda Bus Terminus and then off to the start of the Bibbulmun track. The Italian taxi driver was full of unbelief at what I was about to start. At the end he helped me put my backpack on and offered to drive me back to the city – both trips free. He said, “I will pay for a few drinks! And then you will go home like a sensible old man”.

Then the fun started, as I did not anticipate the gullies and hill climb out in the first section. Ready to quit after three hours, my Chinese companions at lunch told me I had now done the worst and it only got better from here on in. Just as well as my overloaded back pack was killing. It felt like a disease to be exorcised.

To add to my dilemma, the first section had sucked up most of my two-litre supply of water and I was wondering how I was going to get to the campsite without dying of thirst. Then I came across “The Oasis” a camel farm at the back of everything with a lovely cafe arrangement. I downed their free water and also the only bottled cold water in the fridge. Then ate three icy poles to perform anti-inflammatory on my tongue.

Refreshed I plodded onwards towards Hewitt’s hut arriving at 4.45pm. I had covered 12.1 kilometers from Kalamunda not the twenty kilometers I had hoped. So Ruth and I are negotiating what to do after tomorrow. Give this first section away or take an extra day of carrying this heavy pack and finish the section. We will see! Our accommodation planning was based on me covering far more of the track than I did today. If this is going to be the pattern, our B+B experience is going to be very solo.

I got my little stove going for the first time and have cooked and eaten the frozen home cooked stir-fry which I carried, frozen, across the country for this first meal. And now I feel a bit better, even slightly noble despite some of the meat having stuck to the bottom of my little saucepan.

I have company in the Shelter tonight. A father is using the long weekend to take his daughter walking on the Bib track around Perth. He is a little nervous about her persistent request to do one thing- light the fire. He eventually relents and a little blaze keeps her happy. Another guy is sieving his water through some complicated filtration process and so I burn up some of my gas boiling water for tomorrow.

My self-inflating mattress waits, as does my lightweight .5 kg sleeping bag. Filled with painkillers, heart tablets and my Insulin I hope for a speedy return of energy. Helpful also would be, the disappearance of all pain and a lightweight pack to greet tomorrow with most of the contents having been stolen by the wombats and the possums.

Monday 25^th April, 2016

Enjoyed a good nights sleep at the Hewitt Hut and boiled the water for the porridge and fragments of fruit and nuts blended in.

The day was ominous, as it has rained overnight and sure enough the heavens opened on the hills. I was well prepared for the protection of outside wet but not for the broiling experienced through my own body heat and rapid production of perspiration. In consequence I ended up totally wet – clothes and all wet. This poses a problem for me.
The terrain was a bit more generous today and I was determined but it still felt like a long way to go a short distance. I finally arrived at the edge of the Mundaring Weir Dam with its massive waterway stretching back to the hills. I gobbled down a double, double ice-cream from the van at the side of the Weir and then began to trundle across the catwalk at the top of the weir. I went down to the bottom of the Weir and then began the long climb to the top. I had hoped a passing motorist might relieve me of my burden and take me to the Pub. Alas, alas. I eventually came to the Mundaring Weir Pub for a good lunch. This would be the last purchase place for another one hundred and twenty kilometres.

A chunk steak, chips and salad nourished by a large Pepsi satisfied the cooking requirements for the day. The barmaid told me she knew I was tired because I was eating my steak with a butter knife.

I found the track near the Pub and set about concluding this day’s walking. While it was a relatively short trip it still seemed a long way. After 12.8 kilometres of walking for the day I arrived. There is this interesting bod at Camp who seems to have taken up permanent residence. He never shuts up from the moment you arrive and tells his strange tales. Knows all the brand names of the gear but owns very little. Waltzes around in his tights, which are getting a bit stained. Several others join us. One is waiting for a mate who got injured during the day. The other gobbled his food and was asleep by 5pm.

Getting to camp for me has been about settling in quickly and eating my apple, popping my pills and a dose of insulin to keep my pancreas happy. Very slow progress and no phone coverage complicated my plans.

The next fifty kilometres is the most isolated as there is not another town until Dwellingup nearly one hundred and eighty six kilometres.
Ruth arrives tomorrow and although I have covered twenty kilometres I cannot complete this section at Brookton Highway as I had intended by tomorrow afternoon. If I continue at the current rate I would finish the sixty-seven kilometres by Friday.
So I will probably abort this section and join Ruth and try to do sections further on with a lesser load. Perhaps several day hikes and one more overnight for the week and then do the week by myself next week with a lighter load. Perhaps the day will come when I will return and complete the incomplete part.

Tuesday 26th April 2016.

I decided to quit the Bib to re-evaluate with Ruth just what I should do.

I back “tracked” to the Education Centre where I phoned for a taxi and then waited an hour for it to turn up. The ride back to Midland Junction gave me a chance to begin the re-think. The taxi took me to the station where I lugged the pack and bought a ticket. After a few treats I caught the train into Perth and dismounted at Bayswater then walked around to the Bayswater Car Rental place.

Ruth was waiting having caught a taxi in from the airport.

We loaded our goods into the hire car and proceeded to move towards Kelmscott where we were staying at Avocados Motel. We stopped for lunch at a little Café nearby and it was to become a favourite eating-place over the next few days. After two we booked in at the Motel with in a nice little unit with a pleasant water setting nearby.

The afternoon was spent in sorting out the pack and ditching some unimportant pieces. Ruth washed the clothes and had them dry very quickly. By the evening I was ready for a re-start and we went back to the Café for an evening meal.

So ended the day of re-adjustment and hopeful it will alter the mental state as well.

Wednesday 27th April 2016

Day four on the Bib.

It was nice to have a good meal last night at an Italian Restaurant after a wonderful hot shower and change of clothes. The B and B – “Avocados” is in Kelmscott on the fringe of the city and nestles next to the Canning River. The room was spacious and well equipped. We breakfasted well: Ruth with a stack of pancakes, ice cream and maple syrup, Peter had a mountain of bacon and several poached eggs on toast.

We then went shopping for camping supplies for the next week.

We went out to check the Brookton Highway crossover point for Friday and noticed mobile reception, which was encouraging. Then we negotiated our way across the Darling Range to Mundaring to drop me off near the track. I had a top up Pepsi at the pub (lunch was in a bag) and after the drop off Ruth came back to the Pub for a lamb lunch.

She then followed her iMap on her mobile and found direction back to her new b+b near Armadale. She is ensconced for the next three nights…hopefully I will join her on Friday night. Then we go down to Dwellingup for the weekend and back to the Bib track on Monday am.

Today’s walk was beautiful. Being able to concentrate on the scenery with a lighter pack was great. I was able to pause at times to see some red tailed black cockatoos having fun. Some magnificent rock walls filled the landscape and the varying trees – jarrah and sheoak gave splendid coverage. The grass trees were a beautiful contrast and were large through the protection they now have from wood gatherers as they are an incendiary fire starter. The valleys were rich with diversity and beauty.

Different to Sunday and Monday I am now quite alone. At one point I heard voices behind me but they did not make it to the hut for the night. So I am here with the quiet whispers of nature and my tinnitus. From Ball Creek to Helena Campsite is 8.7 kilometres, far distant to my 30 kilometres a day goal.

Tea was noodles and salmon from the dry section of Woolies. The cup of coffee is always great.

The track has varied from a leisurely stroll along fire track or level plateaus. But there are the inevitable downhills, which mean an inevitable uphill calling for lots of pauses and recoveries. But one plods on and eventually the hut sign appears, which for the last half hour you were sure you missed.

In a moment I will climb the hill back to the road and get reception and email two days to you.

I will see what tomorrow brings. I am learning.

Thursday 28^th April 2016

Tonight I am at Waalegh Campsite some nine kilometres from where I was last night. After the aloneness of last night, five others surround me. Three organised walkers are here from NSW to do the whole track in about forty-two days. After the Blue Mountains they find this track relatively easy, which is early warning for me to keep away from the Blue Haze. There is also a couple, he German and she Asian who are doing a roundabout trip to here and back to Perth tomorrow.

The day started well at Helena Campsite. Getting used to the Shelter facilities of shelter, fireplace, table and toilet, and of course, the all important water tank. The morning was magnificent. The sun rose and looking over the valleys of the Darling Range a mist filled the valleys giving the appearance of a sea in front of me.

As I moved off for the day the track was clear and not that difficult. After a break I went up a steep hill, head down watching my step and I missed a poorly concealed “snake” (Waugul) sign. I ended up where I thought I should be on the map but it turns out that walking up and down that road I could not pick up the signs. I lost two hours on the roundabout fortunately returning to the spot where I climbed the hill. This time I found the snake and headed for the next hut arriving mid afternoon instead of lunchtime. My plan for the day and the week is now out the window with the hold up. There is a front coming and it would be risky to press on even though it is only 8.7 kilometres away. My more experienced N.S.W walkers are recommending I stay put. Food is now an issue but Robert from N.S.W tells me there is some Cous Cous in the storage box. I take some just in case.

After conversation with Ruth on the phone I decided to give it away for the day and will not meet her now until Saturday.

The rain hammered the afternoon.

So, it is now seven pm. Tea is over, dark has come so off to bed. Last night was very cold so I am rugged up for bed with a “beanie” of sorts for when it gets low in the early morning.

Friday 29th April 2016

Friday was a tougher day as I had a go at walking two sections. Mt Dale Campsite is 20.3 kilograms. The morning continued to be a spectacular stroll through the bush. Not much wildlife today, just a few Roos. The first from Waalegh in the Perth Hills to Berikan which meant walking south 8.7 kilometres away. It was a pleasant day keeping pace with my New South Wales hikers just in front. They were good company as they gave me all sorts of ideas about this hiking business.

After leaving Berikan the task got a little tougher with some ins and the outs of valleys. The reward of going up is the pleasant down hill on the other side. But the vice versa also may apply.

Came across some firies burning some huge piles of timber surplus for pine forestry. The heat was immense making one wonder how much warmth it may have provided in someone’s home.

Then I passed another snake sign but correlated my map with my iMaps and was soon back on target. However walking the extra nine kilometress was a new experience and as the afternoon pressed on it got harder especially when the track took me uphill towards Mt Dale. I had thought about doing the summit but the energy levels were quite low.

I pressed on towards the Mt Dale Camp for the night and became convinced that I had missed the sign when…behold there it was. A lot further than I imagined such a distance should take to walk. This seems to be the consequence of tiredness, the burden to walking later into the day after an 8am start.

I settled in with the Sydney Bushwalkers for tea and at 6.30pm one headed off to bed and soon the rest of us followed, as it was difficult to talk when one was asleep.

Saturday 30^th April 2016

We rose early, 5.30am and worked for a while in the dark stuffing sleeping bags and blow up mattresses into their little bags. Thank goodness for compression straps which reduce a bulge to a manageable shape. My little delay on Thursday put me back a day and I was running out of food. I found some Couscous that previous campers had left behind, as is often the case, and so I topped up my porridge with this fractured wheat. When I got to the Brookton Highway and ate my little packet of biscuits and cheese, I was conscious these were my last morsels in the backpack. I will need to be more careful and thoughtful in the future to balance my food supplies particularly in the light of my diabetic needs.

I trundled off at 7.50pm and was quickly caught by the Blues team from Sydney. We kept passing each other along the way and they stopped for breaks and caught me when I too rested. The beauty of today was that we were going downhill most of the way and the Parks people had also put a deviation in which meant that we walked on fire tracks, unsealed good roads, and under the power line to finish.

Reaching the Brookton Highway I said farewell to the N.S.W Bushwalkers. I will miss them as they were great company and were just what I needed. The encouragement and advice they gave me in our conversations will be extremely helpful for the rest of the trip. I waited for a short while and Ruth rolled up in the hire car and it was good to share the achievement of the occasion. It wasn’t five hundred miles as I often sing to myself along the way. It was sixty-nine kilometres. I am sure there are wiser people around who have an anecdote or metaphor to match the occasion. I said to one of the Blues as he prepared to march on ahead that someone had once said, “Getting started is half done!” I said I was not sure about that euphemism.

Ruth and I trotted back to the B&B she had been using and it gave me a chance to have a shower and freshen up. The hot water was so therapeutic.

We then had lunch followed by some more preparatory shopping before heading to our next B&B at Dwellingup where I had hoped to walk into today before pressing on to unrealistic conclusions next week.

I had hoped for a night at the B&B before going back on the track next week with the hope of another sixty-nine kilometres.

We are doing a food drop off the Albany Highway before hitting the track to take some weight off the backpack.

When Grandfather First went to war in 1915 they sent him to Ploegsteert Wood in Belgium, where he joined Winston doing penance for the failure of the Gallipoli Campaign he organised. Grandfather was there until mid 1916 when they marched he and his mates down to the Somme in France to be part of that chaos. His time in Belgium was regarded as being part of the “Nursery Trenches” very much a place of learning.

And so I return to my “Nursery Trenches” tomorrow.

It does have its rewards when you can lift your eyes above the rocks on the road and see the diversity of trees – jarrah and sheoak paving the track with broad leaves and silky fronds. At times the baby sheoaks line each side of the track as if to cheer you on. And then there is the nubile budding on new growth with that lovely pale green back grounding the autumn wildflowers, which set off their white contrast.

And to wake in the morning on the edge of a precipice and see an ocean of cloud and midst giving the impression of a lake being formed before you which previously did not exist.

I am hopeful that the second week may be less adventurous and more relaxed to take in the pleasant sights of my Somme.

Next week I will not send notes as my power supply will be limited by being on the track for six days and away from the kindness of topping up. I have external power supply but I will need that to keep in touch with my support team!

Saturday 30^th April 2016

Ruth and I trotted back to the B&B she had been using and it gave me a chance to have a shower and freshen up. The hot water was so therapeutic.

We then had lunch followed by some more preparatory shopping before heading to our next B&B at Dwellingup where I had hoped to walk into today before pressing on to unrealistic conclusions next week.

I had hoped for a night at the B&B before going back on the track next week with the hope of another sixty-nine kilometres.

We are doing a food drop off the Albany Highway before hitting the track to take some weight off the backpack.

And so I return to my “Nursery Trenches” tomorrow.

And to wake in the morning on the edge of a precipice and see an ocean of cloud and midst giving the impression of a lake being formed before you which previously did not exist.

I am hopeful that the second week may be less adventurous and more relaxed to take in the pleasant sights of my Somme.

Sunday 1st May 2016

On Sunday we retired Ruth from the accommodation where we were staying. We were in a Chalet out of Dwellingup; the owner was absent, an upstairs bedroom with downstairs toilet and no mobile reception. The thought of her being alone in that sort of accommodation prompted a call to Richard and Helen about Ruth arriving a day earlier. They were very welcoming which solved that dilemma.

So Sunday we returned to Armadale and madly raced around doing final shopping for food and butane, a hat, head warmer and reserve tent pegs for the week. After a big hamburger at our favourite cafe on the way out of Kelmscott Peter was carbed up and ready to go.

Arriving back on the Brookton Highway we studied the deviation plan for the Bibbulmun track as burning off was happening on the regular track requiring a different route. The deviation looked relatively simple following the power lines and then a gravel road. The problem was the deviation was twenty-four kilometres plus a bit at the end so it meant a twenty-seven kilometre walks. There was to be a camp along the track but unfortunately it came only forty-five minutes into the trip. I said goodbye to Ruth for the week and waddled off with the extra weight of the tent.

The new camp was a gravel pit just down the track so I set up the tent and cooked tea and waited for the dark. At the site the Parks people had installed a Kenny loo and left two Gerry cans full of water.

Night came early and so I crawled into the tent and waited for sleep and dawn all alone out in the bush. This was a bit of a new experience.

About nine o’clock at night I heard foreign voices calling out to each other and flashing torches. I kept quiet but they circled closer and so I popped my head out of the tent to see what they wanted. “Where’s the water?” came back the reply. I told him where it was and he called out to his mate. Then, “Where’s the fire place?” was asked and I pointed to several burnt out heaps of ashes that previous campers had created. They settled to their tasks with one erecting the tent and the other getting a meal ready. Turned out they were two Singaporean young men who had set themselves the challenge of getting from Kalamunda to Albany in twenty days. “Not at my pace!” I thought. Eventually they retired and we all got some sleep.

In the morning as my tent went flat one of them exclaimed, “Are you on your own!”

Monday 2nd May 2016

I was on the track at 8.40am before my two overnight companions but it wasn’t long before they caught up. They were jogging to Albany with big backpacks full of camping gear and energy drinks and supplements. One had a big cardboard sign strung on his bottom

“1000 kilometres in 20 days”.

(They made it in nineteen days)

Slowly they faded into the distant hills.

The day was long. The power lines go in a direct line over hill over dale and do not follow the contour lines so it was hard work doing that bit. When I found the road I was to follow at lunchtime, I stopped for a break which was deadly because when the pack went back on my body did not want to go anywhere any more. Apart from my two joggers I was the sole human in the area. So, if it was going to be it was up to me. A long hard afternoon followed not encouraged by big paw prints in the road at one stage. No body, no passing cars. Eventually the new loop reconnected with Bib track and I climbed Mt Randall to the hut at Monadnocks Campsite for the night. Company at last, a young couple out for an overnight in their tent said “Hi!” Cooked their tea and then went off to their tent.

By now the sense of discipline was locking in and I had cooked my tea before dark, set up my sleeping mat and bed, cleaned my teeth and dried out some clothes by the fire. Perspiration pours off me so I finish most days wet, wet, wet Which is a bit of an issue of need to work on.

Alone again, literally and with my thoughts but I had the best nights sleep yet, aided by my new pillow – the tent.

Tuesday 3rd May 2016

I woke before daylight and swung into action with the routine. Boil water, cook the porridge, clean the teeth, pack the sleeping gear, pack the bag, put on the boots and get ready to go. All takes time…up to two hours.

Today is going to be a challenge. I had already climbed half way up a hill to Mt Randall (523 metres) the previous day. Today I was to climb two significant hills Mt Cuthbert (511 metres) and Mt. Vincent (486 metres). The effort demanded was extreme. While I found I could carry my pack reasonably well on the flat, going over hills is quite different. I was grateful for the burnt out logs and craggy rocks on which I sat to give momentary relief in the upward climb. Eventually I made it to the summit of both and was quite proud of the effort. Only two years ago I had lost the ability to climb the rises around Corryong but by the magic of a stent these hills became a possibility.

On the way down I met Jim who was going up. He told me he was training for some climbing he was going to do down south later in the year. He was a photographer and was going to do some work in his skill. He was full of wise advice about how to use a walking stick and how one should carry something light to sit on so as not to have the black bottom on ones red shorts as I did.

After I left him I headed for Sullivan’s Rock a large outcrop and then to Albany Highway rest place for lunch. I then ventured to Millar’s Road to find my food drop, which we had planted on the previous Sunday. Slightly exhilarated I then pressed on to my next camp at Mt Cooke, which was an ominous warning that a third and higher climb was on order for the next day. I had covered 13.6 kilometres today. No wonder I arrived at 2pm.

I set up camp, alone again, and followed my orderly chores, which now includes drying clothes.

Wednesday 4th May 2016

Up and away early I took the reassurance of my photographer walker that the ascent to Mt Cooke (582 metres) would be fast as it was close to the campsite. Whether the previous day had taken the edge out of difficulty in climbing or whether the ascent was easier I am not sure but I arrived in good time at the summit. The views were spectacular and rewarding as the circular view allowed me to look back to where I had come from with the pinnacle of Mt Dale reminding me that significant distance had been covered since last week. Joy preceded pain as the descent turned Mt Cooke into Mt Crooke. It was tough and difficult and I reminded myself often of the Epirb on my belt and imagined being winched from this great slab of granite after slipping on some moss.

At the top of Mt Cooke I met a male walker coming from the southerly direction. He had left Dwellingup several days earlier and was planning to walk to Mundaring then home to nearby Stoneville. He had actually done the trip before. He was not an “End to Ender” that is, walked the Bib from Kalamunda to Albany. Strangely he had almost completed the task and only had a small section from Denmark to Albany to complete his task. He said he would one day catch the Bus to Denmark and finalise his efforts.

My chopper was not needed on the descent but it was an extremely slow coming down. Clarity in every step was needed but head down bum up meant that, I missed one of the snake signs known as Waugal and went off at a tangent. A little bit of local knowledge helped at this point and I figured out how to reconnect with the track. It involved walking on some lovely flat roads, which were actually shorter than the main track, and again I reconnected with my snakes of the Bib.

The rest of the time was on a relatively flat track, which meant that I arrived just after two at the campsite. This meant that I had a seventeen-hour recovery period at this campsite, which gave me an early opportunity to finish my trek on the following day.

Prior to entering Nerang Campsite (13.4 kilometres) I lost phone contact and had an eerie night by myself.

The camps are now located further apart. They dictate your progress as you are dependent on them for shelter and more particularly, for water. So proper planning ahead is necessary.

Previous scrounging of walkers already denuded the wood supply around the camp. However, I gathered enough fragments to warm up the stones and the plate. Not to cook but to carefully dry out wet clothes in alfoil brought for the purpose. Large rocks were placed on the hot plate and the alfoil wrapped clothes on top allowed clothes to dry in a relatively short while. Anita Shreve once wrote a book called “The Weight of Water” and I became conscious of such heaviness in wet clothes in the backpack. – so much better to have them dry.

For the second night I was alone in the bush, which is not scary but somewhat of a daunting experience. Alone with ones thoughts in the bush from 6pm to 5am may sound romantic but makes for a long night particularly if low power on the iPhone means you can’t play one of the games you enjoy.

Having said that, there is a strange sense of camaraderie on the Bib. At each place there is a Roll to be filled out and one enters into the companionship of the journey.

At times you walk into, walk with or walk near those obsessed by a similar madness. It is a curious sense of company that allows you to feel, not alone when you are.

Thursday 5^th May 2016

I made the decision on the previous night that I would not spend another night alone. I planned to rise early and leave camp by 7am and to try to get to the North Bannister Roadhouse in time to catch the 1.30pm bus back to Armadale in the city. From thence I would catch the train to Bunbury and Ruth would come up and take me back to Augusta to spend a few days with Richard and Helen.

To achieve this it meant that I would need to walk about 18 kilometres in 5 hours. Have a shower at the Roadhouse, eat and be ready for the bus by 1.30pm.

I rose on time, packed and was away by 7.10am.

The advantage today would be that the elevation did not greatly increase on my journey to Nerang Campsite. There were gullies and creeks to be traversed which meant I would have to climb up some hills but they did not look as ominous as Mount Crooke.

I managed to rattle quickly through the early part of the journey strengthened by porridge and a good rest. In the latter part of the journey I slowed and rested a lot on rocks and tree stumps. I used a bit of Gatorade powder in my water bottle, which tasted nice even if it did not help.

As I wearied I was encouraged in meeting a potential “End to Ender” who had started at Albany and had just over 140 kilometres to go. I congratulated him on his effort and saw him bound away with enthusiasm. Then along came an older lady whose goal was to keep ahead of two elderly gentlemen behind her. I assisted by encouraging them to pause for conversation. It turned out they were two from the Bibbulmun Preservation Committee who were walking this section of the track to check out how it was and what might be needed to preserve its quality. It was encouraging to see such surveillance.

My efforts were successful and I reached the next hut (Nerang 16.5 kilometres) by 11.30am and the Roadhouse by 11.55am. The shave and the shower was a blessing even if the shower facility would have benefited from some TLC.

I changed into fresh clothes and dragged my backpack into the dining room and had some takeaway food and waited for the bus. I dumped a shopping bagful of rubbish into a roadside bin – rubbish I had accumulated since Sunday from around my food supply. I also left in the bin some clothing well stained and ruined by the two weeks of effort. The bus duly stopped and carried me away partly oblivious as I slept before arriving about an hour later in Armadale.

I relaxed into a deep chair at The Dome (a W.A coffee franchise) and ate and drank slowly so that I could rest before the train arrived at 6.25pm. I chatted at the station to a young Indian graduate of Victoria University who told me of his plans to take his wife and family to Kalgoorlie where he would manage three service stations for a wealthy owner.

The Australind train duly arrived and carried me to Bunbury where Ruth was waiting and I was able to keep my bleary eyes open until and a bit beyond meeting Helen and Richard in their lovely Augusta home. That of friendly Ava their big shepherds type dog joined their welcome. It was bliss to be in a home, in a bed and to be held, carried into sleep and not to have to worry about the sun rising on the next day.

WHAT WAS DISCOVERED IN THE WALK?

I found a new appreciation of the W.A bush countryside. Much was familiar from childhood but things were noticed such as the variety of trees and the quality of life, which many enjoyed. A sadness at seeing the “die back” disease in dead leaves and rotted trees. Wildlife was not apparent, probably frightened away by heavy boots.

The terrain I found surprisingly manageable even with a twenty-kilogram pack. My progress on the flat was impressive; my conquest of hills surprising.

I guess it was the discipline of walking between huts and the water supply that got me the most. It required daily preparation and careful forethought. That a system quickly developed was encouraging and that the section was traversed safely suggest some sense of competence.

Now time must allow the healing of body to occur and a reflection on the effect and quality of wound – such as an aching lower back, swollen ankles and tingling fingers. Advice will be needed to assess what these all mean and be part of the process of consideration as to whether there are more legs for the track.