trek – in Creative Wilderness

I’m not exactly a spontaneous person. In fact, if a friend calls me and says “wanna go out tonight?” I have to say no because I have not had a significant amount of time to mentally prepare myself. So when my friend mentioned walking Mt Kosciuszko recently, I think I shocked us both when I said “let’s do it!” Granted, it took me a few days to plan, but the casual reference to Australia’s tallest mountain became a fully prepared itinerary – flights, trains, car and all.

Fast forward (I won’t bore you will details of my BO filled train ride and my 45 minute flight that felt like a long-haul) and it’s ‘the day of.’ At 6.30am, my friend Rach and I rugged up in 15 layers to defend us against the brittle 3 degree Canberra weather, and we hit the road with a brief but necessary stop at McDonalds to fill up on pancakes and coffee.

We arrived at Charlottes Pass (because we’re hard core and prefer to take the LONG route) and stuffed as many muesli bars and sandwiches in our backpacks. I think at some point along the way we had to remind ourselves that we were not about to embark on an extreme overland multi-day trek, but a 4-5 hour 18km round trip. Quite sadly, we had to leave our torch and hunting knife in the car and wind down our overly excited imaginations.

We set off on our adventure on a beautiful blue sky day with not another soul in sight. All we had was ourselves and the sound of gravel crunching under our feet. I think I made it half a kilometre before having to strip off my gloves and two additional layers until it was just me in a singlet. Luckily we didn’t wear our ski jackets like we originally considered. We obviously aren’t veteran hikers.

The silence was quite staggering. A few times we stopped in our tracks just to listen. There was no breeze, no birds, just the distant trickle of the Snowy River that passed through the valley to our right. We had the entire open space to ourselves and the odd person we could see as a speck in the distance. Before reaching the summit, Rach and I had solved the world’s problems, figured out our survival plan if an apocalypse was to occur and who knows what else.

When we reached the summit, 30 other people suddenly seemed to appear (arriving from a different direction) and we unfortunately had to share the space. Obviously the local Council didn’t get my request to have the mountain to ourselves… We again took a million pictures, then took pictures for other people, then climbed over rocks, walked in circles, ate our packed lunch, watched as two guys cracked beers they pulled from their backpack in celebration, and then turned around for the 9km walk back.

We managed to get back to our motel on shaking legs, with dry lips, burnt skin and the need for a shower. We were pretty proud of ourselves. But first, rest.

The very beginning…

Wide open spaces

Teeny tiny Snowy River

My favourite (plus a filter to make it extra awesome)

The crowd at the top of Australia

The view from the top

Hmm bit chilly?

The journey back begins

So recently, I woke up and realised I am getting old. Just like that. OLD.

OK, so maybe I’m not that old, but sometimes it only takes something small to make you realise that life is passing at a rapid pace. In my case it is due to an upcoming tremulous year of change. I’m not sure if tremulous is the right word but it sounds good so I’m sticking with it. This year, my partner and I could potentially move to a new town, new state, who knows? Because I know that I could be leaving this beautiful place I call home, I’m suddenly desperate to do everything and anything.

To Do List: Climb to the Tomaree Summit – check!

I first stumbled across this ‘trek’ on Instagram. I have a friend who seems to live the high life and she tagged herself at the top. My first thought “damn her and her motivation to do stuff!” Then I came across it on this surprisingly awesome site: http://www.hunterhunter.com.au/

So on Saturday morning, we hit the road, coffee in hand and joggers on. I had expected to be a heaving mess by the end, covered in my own sweat and beetroot red, but turns out the first ten minutes was the hardest part. Twenty minutes later and we were at the top.

I had one of those ‘sigh’ moments at the summit and suddenly wanted to have a ‘deep and meaningful’ about the wonders of the world and the meaning of life, but the short silence was broken by a grating voice behind me shouting, “Look at that dog on the beach!”

So I turned around and trudged back down.