The Heysen Trail.

Heysen Trail Day 1.

Cape to Cobblers Campground.

21st September

12.4 kilometres in  8.1 hours. 

The  flight  over from Melbourne to Adelaide was eventful. Because of the high winds my first flight was cancelled and I was placed on the later flight which was delayed because it didn’t have a pilot. Eventually I got to Adelaide and got into the Ibis where I was staying. I then went shopping for various bits and pieces that you can’t take on the plane like gas and lighters. After a light tea I headed for bed and was awake before five. I finished the packing of the backpack and got a taxi around to the bus station. I was able to get a seat on the bus which connects with the ferry and takes passengers across to Kangaroo Island. After a coffee or two and a bit of cake I put my backpack on and started the Heysen Trail. After half a km I had to turn around because I left my walking stick next to where I had my bag at the Terminal.

The day started nicely with beautiful sunshine but quickly changed and was replaced for the rest of the day with intermittent showers. The views were spectacular all day looking out into the passage across to Kangaroo Island and beyond. The grass is beautiful and green down here and the wildflowers are popping up everywhere:beautiful yellow and brown and some other colours. There was red mould on numerous rocks. There are various power supplies running cross to Kangaroo Island undersea and very large stations substation to monitor that electricity. Continually crossed creeks in gullies. The walking pattern of down to the end of the gully and then come back down the other side. So it was heavy going all day very slow clambering up rock faces that were quite steep in places. The track crosses farming land so there were a lot of stiles to clamber over.  I made company with a couple, a young mum and her dad who are starting out on a periodic walk of Hysen Trail today doing one section at a time. He has Parkinsons and so his day was full of stumbles and near falls but he got through the day unscathed and he is to be commended for his courage and his endeavours. The last climb of 3 kms to the campsite was arduous in the rain. When I arrived finally arrived in camp it was raining and three young fellas who were camping here for the weekend offered me shelter under the under the tarpaulin which was stretched out from one of their vehicles. This was very generous of them because I have no idea how I was going to establish a tent and cook the meal in such inclement weather. So we sat around chatting tonight around the fire and turns out that all Uniting Church people. They were out for a weekend together and we were reminiscing with me some of the aspects of our shared life in the church. It is  now 9.39pm. It is comfortable and dry in the tent and my space blanket with keep we warm.

Today was 13 kms tomorrow is 12 kms. They are not easy so it will take time.

Go well.

Peter.

Peter N Batchelor

The Heysen Trail Day 2.

Cobblers Hill Campground to Trig Campground. 

7.42 kilometres in  7.29 hours.

22nd September 2019

South of Adelaide in South Australia is the Fleurieu Peninsula. It is a fertile strip of land which allows agriculture and viticulture to blossom in a highly productive manner. On the southern coast there are numerous sheep and cattle stations which reach right down to this section of the ocean called the Backstairs Passage. Further to the north are the extensive vineyards – the most famous area being Mclaren Vale but there are many other brand names and boutique cellars. 

The Peninsula also host the annual Tour Down Under which is a set of cycling events for women and men. It is held in the heat of late January and draws and international field of renowned participants. The TDU marks the beginning of the professional cycling season and is recognised in that way by the presiding world body.

The old fellas walking event recommenced on Sunday in drizzling weather. I dismantled the tent and repackaged my bag under the shelter of the young guys tarp.

My goal today was to reach Tapanappa some 15 kms away. 

A reasonable task but I did not make it. 

On the first day, apart from not being battle ready I also carried extra weight in food (3 kgs) for the five days. Added to the difficult terrain in the second half of the walk to Cobblers I began Sunday with a measure of weariness that would threaten that goal. 

So I decided to walk to Eagle Waterhole Campsite some two kms away then rest up for a bit and evaluate how I was going.

The first part of the journey was great. Walking downhill through dripping forest on a relatively smooth track was, at the beginning,  a breeze. Nature was alive with bird calls and the undergrowth was rich and green. 

I paused for a break at the bottom then slid down a rock face to continue my journey along the creek.

The rain brings renewed sights and sounds as with spring it cultivates breeding in plant and species. 

Eventually I linked up with a formed track leading to the Campsite. I trundled upwards to find the Shelter empty but about 8 bags lying around. The owners were off on a half day walk and returned later in the morning before moving off to Trig where their cars were parked. They had been on a weekend jaunt. Had I made the extra two kms to this campsite the previous night there probably would have been no room in that shelter.

After resting, as planned I moved off about 12noon still intent on getting to Tapanappa. The terrain had other plans. As one of the bushwalkers said, “There are a lot of hills between here and Trig”.

And she was right. It was slow and ponderous. While at time the track was smooth and settled, at other times it was difficult in the ascent and descent. Boulders had to be negotiated and steady progress was not possible especially in the weary-ing which the day brings in the afternoon.

It was obvious that Tapanappa was not going to be a possibility today and I settled on the idea of staying at Trig for the night.

The day had its joys. The rain was replenishing the wildflowers. As I ascended the small wildflowers became more prolific. Beautiful little dewdrop sized specimens which Ruth tells me you have to apologise to because you walk on them before noticing their presence. It seems the heights produces its own biological culture not present in the lowlands. Or maybe earlier or later!

I arrived at the Trig Campground and was pleasantly surprised by the size of the space and the manicured nature of the grass. The “lawn mowers” were several hundred kangeroos munching away beyond dusk. Some were does with joeys being watched over by huge bucks so I was careful not to annoy.

A holiday family was nearby but tonight I was alone in my little one man tent.

The shorter trip, the added rest had allowed me to recoup some of the lost energy of yesterday. But now I was a day behind and had to work out what to do about that.

My phone had lost connection with a mobile network and I discovered that the replenishment battery had dwindled significantly so I would need to conserve. I needed the telephone option to book a taxi as I would be ten kms out of Victor Harbor when my prior planning suggested otherwise. I also had only provided five days of food – walking any longer would put pressure on my diabetic diet. If I wanted to extend the trip I would need to contact the Motel and the airline so pressure was beginning to irritate.

I lived with the hope that the last link on Thursday would deal with itself as I went along my journey.

The night drizzle meant that for the first time I had to carry a wet tent. A new experience.

Peter N Batchelor

Heysen Trail Day 3.

Trig Campground to Tapanappa.

6.31 Kms in 4.17 hours.

23rd September 2019

Trig is an important stopping point for the Deep Creek Conservation area. There is a circuit walk which many use to draw in magnificence of forest and sea. So the path down to Deep Creek Waterfall has drawn some attention and effort and was smooth in its initial stages. Then as the fall of the path becomes steeper one is asked to take risks over rocks and wheedle  ones way around boulders or little ledges or down steps with a longer than leg drop. Eventually I reached the bottom to the fast flowing creek with its gurgling tannin water. My steps were steady and considered, my pack was wobbly. In the drink I felt for pain in the wetness. My right arm was grazed and after I hauled myself out of the chilly water I dew the appropriate antiseptic fluid and band aid from my First Aid Kit. Still able to move I took some piccys of the waterfall and then began the climb up to Tapanappa.

Trail creators blend the climbing style. Sometimes it is straight up and over. Then there are the Zig Zags such as on the Larapinta which makes 1000 metres climbing more manageable. A third style is the U Turn which takes you alongside a creek ridge to its end and then has you returning in the opposite direction on the opposite bank. The U Turns are brilliant as you do not need to ascend from a deep descent into a creek. However, it does take extra time.

The last bit of the Tapanappa Trail had both Zig Zags and U Turns and while it spread out the walk time it was less strenuous. Eventually the trail broke out to a view of the sea at the Tapanappa Lookout which was a chance to re inhabit ocean views. It also gave choice to walk on the community access road to the campsite which was smooth and gravel.

The Campground was empty when I arrived but there was a Ute and tent.  Daywalkers out for a stroll.

Early arrival gave me a chance for a longish nap which would be helpful replenishment for the days ahead.

I awoke to a couple who owned the Ute and they later topped up my dinner with damper and jam. While I was asleep 12 girls from St Trinian’s had arrived with their teachers and had camped next to me. They were full of that first days excitement  as they set up their tents and competed in their nonsensical noisy rivalry.

After dinner another lone male arrived with a Ute load of wooden pallets. The blaze was enormous and I wondered what evidence he was dealing with. The charcoal was still red the following morning.

An early night followed a less demanding day but the issues of one less day and now communications still prevailed.

Peter N Batchelor

Heysen Trail Day 4.

Tapanappa to Balquhidder.

24st September

17 kilometres in  10.6 hours. 

24th September 2019

Up at 5am today as it was to be a long walk.  Gathered everything together by 7am and was off. Left St Trinians, the Damper Duo and Burnie all asleep and headed off to the coast.  The Trail blazers insisted on a circuit walk first. So we did a U Turn up a beautiful bully and back the other side. A great morning of pleasant, sensuous experiences as the call of the wild from the birds and the flaura and fauna enticed ones emotions to joy. After peaking the descent followed and just after the warning of a steep climb down my foot caught some unseen mud, one leg went one way, the other in an opposite direction. The customary evaluation on the ground followed with amazement that all was severely stretched but remarkably in place.  It’s been a long place between falls. Down the treacherous descent to the beach clambering over ridges and gravelly goat tracks eventually reaching the creek at the bottom. I was now accompanied by a holiday day with two children. They walked ahead to Tunkalilla Beach where they stopped and returned back to their car. He would not let them go on the beach because they might get sandy???

The first encounter was Boat Harbor Beach which was beach English style. All black rocks. Lots of drift wood, massive logs and chunks of wood. My Burnie man from the night before would have a field day here.

Over another headland, clambering to get to the peak and then finally dropping down to Tunkalilla Beach – so called because it is an Aboriginal word meaning “place of bad smells”. These were caused by offal washing up here from a whaling station not far away.

The sign said 4.5 kms of beach walking. I hate beach walking. Your feet struggle under the weight of a pack and heavy boots. I chunk it out in groups of 50 steps and take many pauses, pack on pack off.  And there is the customary re-baptism of the boots meaning wet socks until the end of the journey.

My phone pinged and I momentarily had coverage with Ruth which I think came from the tower at `Cape Jervis rather than Victor Harbor. I was not quick witted enough to book a Taxi for Wednesday.

Eventually the end came to the Beach walking only to be met by another challenge. The remaining part of the journey would be to climb up to 200 metres over several kilometres. Sounds not difficult unless it goes straight up very quickly. 

He first part at SheOak Hill is at about 70 degrees. You achieve this in short bursts counting to ten. The farmers square wired fence give you something to grip on and pull yourself a metre or so.

Eventually the first part is accomplished. The  next hill is less angularly inclined as is the third as is the fourth. Eventually Tunkalilla Head Road is reach and a series of roller coast walks continues until Balquhidder Campsite is reached. One feels physically processed by the time the goal is achieved. 

Along the way beauty is experienced by the views of the ocean and shoreline where one is distant and immersed. The smells of whale offal replaced by a saltiness and seaweed. Above the shoreline one is met by Merinos and Suffolk. One lamb has escaped into the next paddock with me and leads me up the hill until I divert away from the fence and allow it to escape backwards. I hope it found its mother again.

Since this photo Balquihidder has added a sleeping deck.

The provisions of walking trails vary so much. The Bibbulmun in W.A had shelters built for every night over the 1000 kms. A lot of work was done by prisoners. The Overland had specially built accommodation. The Larapinta has occasional shelters.

The Heysen Trail has diverse offerings. Some specially designed shelters sleeping up to 6, some shelters as above, some old buildings but often the flattest piece of dirt you can find.

The Deep Creek Conservation Park and The Newlands Heads Conservation Park are a credit to South Australians. They preserve environmental heritage and offer a place of meaningful experience to people wanting to enjoy bush and water.

Peter N Batchelor

Heysen Trail Day 5.

Balquahidder to Waitpinga.

11.7 kilometres in 6.57 hours.

25th September, 2019

What a beautiful day. After all the heavy showers, light rain, mist and gloomy cloud banks the weather cleared. And out came the beautiful blue and aqua colour of the ocean, the black rocks on the shorelines, the white and orange sand on the beaches leaching from the shoreline. The green grass is lush colouring the hills and providing nutrition to the Stations with their diverse breed of sheep and occasional cattle.

The weather seemed to bring out the bird life as well and I could hear them frequently chattering: multi coloured parrots, sulphur crested galas, the birds on the beach or camouflaged by the black rocks upon which they stood. A magpie regarded me as an intruder as I sat and waited for my taxi. My rocks did not deter.

After a night when the mist continued to soak the outer layer of my tent and threatened the inner layer as well I rose at 5am and began to vacate my little campsite. When the alarm goes off one says: “Oh not not again!” But once movement starts the glooms disappear and the day is anticipated. My regular pattern has me up, fed, packed and off in two hours which is about the best I can do.

Today flatlined according to the maps. Distance was to be covered over less rigorous climbs, or so it seemed.  I set off in the cool of the morning up a road which then took a sharp right towards the beach. Over stiles and through gates as the trail organisers have developed good cooperation with land holders requiring strict discipline with walkers as well. My initial steps were through wet grass with sheep baaing all around me. Then it was down the promised hill towards the creek and then meandering along the bank of the creek until it eventually reached the ocean. The ocean is banked by high cliffs and it is necessary to climb from creeks and gullies. So much for flat maps. HOewever the climbs were nothing like Mt Sheoak of yesterday.

One dip took me into a little cove where I stopped for an eat. Along came a fellow walker who told me he had walked from where I stayed on Monday night. Speed is possible when you are young and travel backpack light. Later I met another young man going the other way who told me he had come down from Parachilna and had nearly completed the walk. He was resilienty tanned and weather beaten.

My drama with my phone and the reserve battery finally ended when I was able to contact my . More than one bar appeared allowing me to find a taxi company number. I rang the taxi people in Victor Harbor and arranged a pickup at 3pm. Dreaded thoughts of walking an extra 10 kms with my reserve of food dwindling to pose a threat to my diabetic issues. 

My walking took me to Parson’s beach a broad expanse of sand and beauty. Torrid for an old walker and I counted steps up to thirty and rested – often. I passed some unsuccessful fisherman and some guys with bare feet and boards off to challenge the waves and the sharks and my taxi driver was to later tell me.

Another summit at the end of the beach  where I rested before the last scamper across another cliff before descending to Waitpinga Beach.  The end is near, but sand walking again. Count to thirty, say hi to the fishermen there and deal with the fear that I would not be there for the taxi at three. Of course I was but not before I worked my way off the beach and found the track to the Campground. 

A step raised itself as I passed and I thought, please make this a happy landing. Sore tonight but not mortally wounded. At the Campground I ate my final morsels of food in the knowledge that I was about to be rescued. Washed the sand off my boots and rested briefly before my angel of mercy arrived. The taxi dropped me off at the inner city Motel. A shower dislodged five days of grime and whiskers then off to the Mancunian Barber who snipped in Manchester style – flourish and speed and yanked only $18 from my wallet.Tonight I had an Italian prepared barramundi having had my customary milkshake – not spearmint, that great celebratory drink. Only available in W.A but nevertheless a good conclusion to a sweet slog!

Peter N Batchelor