We thought we were ready; plenty of long walks this past summer in the Mad River Valley.  But we were mistaken.  Walking ten miles every Saturday on gravel roads in Warren and Waitsfield with no more than a few oranges and some water in our Camelbaks was power-puff training. Instead we should have been running up Stark Mountain with 30 pounds of bricks.

But first, a digression. Last Sunday, we were two of over 8,000 individuals who attended Dirty Dancing Live on the big stage in Sydney. What better way to get psyched for the hike than to watch Patrick Swayze’s muscles in action and hear the soundtrack live.  The movie brought tears to my eyes; the late 80’s were a much more carefree time, at least in my memory.

On Monday morning, we put on our backpacks, took the train into Sydney and then caught the commuter ferry to Woolwich. It was quite warm, temperatures hoovering in the eighties Before entering the bush, we walked through suburban gated neighborhoods and some parks. We had each eaten a small yogurt for breakfast with a coffee and split a tangerine.  Then lunch was a few slices of cheese.

Our goal was to complete eight miles, stay at a hotel and then walk the other three miles sans packs. Wishful thinking but we did not prevail.  The lack of food and enough water, the heat and the heavy packs caused me to briefly pass out. From that point on, Pat walked behind me to make sure I didn’t black out again.

When we arrived at the hotel in North Ryde, we ordered pasta dishes and a few Cokes. We also considered how we might make this walk more enjoyable. Our solution,;ditch the packs whenever possible, drink Gatorade and eat bigger breakfasts. After a visit from a few cockatoos the next morning, Pat, armed with both packs, caught an Uber north to our next location and then returned.  We managed 11 miles that day on a variety of trail. On the Great North Walk, we are surrounded by Sydney blue gums, black butt, dryheath, she oaks, peppermint, smooth barked apple mixed with coachwood, black waddle and pittosporum. We’ve also been entertained by a variety of birds; honey eaters, fan tails, blue wrens, parrots and a variety of water birds and Pat spooked on kangaroo.

When we woke up on Day Three, it was raining.  We fished our canary yellow rain coats and gloves out of our packs and trudged ahead. However, after walking for a few kilometers, we found ourselves stuck; there was no safe way to cross the swollen stream. Frustrated, we backtracked and found a spur trail through the bush and then returned to the hotel, retracing our earlier steps.  Unbeknowst to us, the local leeches had attached themselves to our clothes and boots in the wet weather. These Australian leeches curl up llike tiny worms but they reek havoc. We were a bloody mess, requiring several bandaids . Subsequently, we flushed over 40 leeches down the toilet. Of course, they thrive in water so some survivors kept reappearing.

This morning, Day Four, it was raining, windy and cold but we were determined to go forth From the hotel, we walked with our heavy backpacks to the Thornleigh rail station and took it two stops north to Hornsby. A 15 minute walk led us to the Blue Gum hotel above the local pub. We dropped our packs and took an Uber to the Galston Gorge Car Park, a feat, for any driver, because of hairpin and reverse turns. Upon our arrival, we found a raging river but no matter, our trail was to to fist get to the top of the gorge. The only way up one of the steepest sections was to balance on metal rungs spaced out and inserted into the rocks.  I shuddered, knowing that if I fell, it was over. Why , why, why didn’t I bring my ski helmet?

At the top of the gorge, we turned onto a management road; these roads are scattered throughout all the national parks here as the means to access bush fires.  We then passed by a primitive campsite; no water, no outhouse.   Halfway through the day’s walk, we came upon a steel truss bridge, which had been moved there so hikers could easily cross the river. Because of an active rifle range, we had to climb steeply upward to a community and then slowly descend back down to the river’s edge.  Ferns proliferated all around the bush and as we began our final ascent to Hornsby, we climbed 300 rock stairs.,constructed during the Great Depression.

Lessons we’ve learned thus far:

1)This is not what we would call a walk; it is very steep and quite challenging. 2) We should have sent more items back with Destyni.  Since the Trump tariffs were enacted, mailing anything back to US is impossible, meaning heavier packs. 3) To always watch out for brown snakes and little leeches. 4) To do what we can and forgo the every frigging inch expectation. 5) We’d so rather be on bicycles.

See you all mates on the trails ahead

Shevonne and Pat