GO

The smart arse I’m married to took this photo as he played Go by Chemical Brothers on his phone. “Got the right shoes on?” He asked. “You’ll be fine.” He added, and dropped in a stupid bird noise. I was actually trying to get as far away as I could from him by the end of the song. Not because he was trying to murder me and make me into human jerky, but because I wanted to finally finish The Cooloola Great Walk. I’d tried to do it twice before. Once, I never even started it because it got shut down due to a massive bushfire, and the second time I got sick after the first day and had to walk back out to the road I wasn’t sure was there along a firebreak I wasn’t mean to be walking on (UMMMAAARR). Then, there were the other two times I’d tried to hike/bike in the Cooloola area: once along the Wilderness Trail, and once along Teewah beach. Both times were pretty horrendous. I almost froze solid on the banks of the Noosa River when I was on the Wildernss Trail because I didn’t bring a sleeping bag, and the road the smart arse was meant to drive on to pick me up was blocked by a gate that wasn’t on the map. Then, on the bike ride, I didn’t factor the wind into my plan. When I crossed over onto Teewah beach from Rainbow Beach I discovered I couldn’t pedal because the wind was so strong, so I pushed the bike for 17km before spending a miserable night in the dunes, then getting picked up by some randoms while still pushing my bike the next day. This time everything worked out and that bloody smart arse was actually correct when he said at the beginning that I’d be fine.

I saw quite a few other people on the track. Some of them were doing the walk too, some in the same direction as me (N-S) and others going the other way (S-N) and others were doing side sections as day walks. Aside from a small number of people, mostly, everyone I came across wasn’t particularly friendly. They weren’t horrible, but trying to talk to them was like that feeling you get when you try to make the wrong sides of velcro stick together; it just doesn’t work, so I pretty much stuck to myself aside from when I met James at Kauri (he was just finishing), and then Craig on the track as I was approaching the end of the hike (he’d just started). Both dudes were really friendly and easy to get along with and we shared details and promised to stay in touch. Craig was closest in age to me and we both had a similar way of life in that we are both fulltime adventurers. I very quickly felt like he was my new best friend as we sat in the middle of the track sharing stories of hikes done and adventures to come. These guys made me feel the same way as when I met my tribe on the Great Ocean Walk in Victoria in April:

I think another lesson is about My Tribe. I’ve been looking for these people almost all my life and I could never find them. I think I finally found them: other hikers. Being with the eight other hikers I met on the GOW, even though we only gathered together at the end of each day, gave me sense of camerarderie I haven’t found elsewhwere. I very much felt that I belonged to these people, they to me and all of us to the trail. It was as though we shared a unspoken secret unavailable to everyday people.

The walk to Littoria was the hardest day. The map says it’s 20.5km, but it felt more like 24-25km,but it could have been all the hills. The whole entire thing was pretty uphill, and that’s really tiring walking, but I prefer it to going endlessly downhill with a pack on. It’s annoying walking downhill for kilometre after kilometre because you have to really think about what you’re doing and watch not just your next foot fall, but the track to come. On a steep climb, it’s ok to just look at your feet because your momentum is much slower and you’re leaning closer to the ground. That’s opposite for walking downhil. Walking downhill is far more dangerous for tripping, slipping and face-planting it.

I slept fine on the first night, but I found it almost impossible to sleep for the rest of the hike. It was because my entire body was killing me from the relentless slogging. Also, because there’s not much to do at the camp once you’ve set up and had your dinner, it’s bed time by around 6.30pm. That’s a lot of hours to lay on the ground. Thank god I bought a decent sleep mat after the GOW. I read in the tent for a few hours before trying to get to sleep, but then the need to pee strikes, which necessitates an extremely annoying extraction from the tent into the rain, then back into the tent to begin the unbelievably difficult process of getting everything unbunched, zipped up and settled in only to have to repeat the same thing twice more before the night is over. When I did manage to sleep for what felt like five minutes here and there, I had the most insane dreams. One night I dreamt I was really stoned from smoking too much marajuana (I don’t smoke this stuff. I hate the smell of it) and in the dream someone asked me what I was doing. I told them I had to smoke it because I was in so much pain. You know you’ve got next level pain when you dream about being in pain. Like dreaming about having headache to wake up and realise that you do actually have a headache.

Some campsites had cheeky possums and bushrats. I’m always wary of these buggers. A bushrat chewed through my hiking tent years ago on the Conondale Ranges Great Walk. I was not impressed. There are timber platforms and lockboxes on the Cooloola Great Walk, so wildlife can’t steal your stuff, but I left a water bottle next to my tent door incase I wanted a drink overnight. In the morning I got up to see that a bushrat had chewed into the lid. Why!! It’s not edible for crying out loud. I can’t whinge too much. It only cost $1.10 (I only use Coles brand mineral water bottles for hiking: they weigh almost nothing and I can keep reusing them, then just chuck them in the recycle bin when they get too old. I refuse to get caught up in the idea that I need to spend $25 on a fancy water bottle). I also saw sugar gliders, a huge red bellied black snake, bush turkeys, kingfishers and heard woompoo fruit doves calling.

Dutgee was the best spot of all, even though the walk into the campsite was pretty crappy. It’s through a swamp and some dickheads on trail bikes had come through the track and made it even harder to walk on. Man, if I could just get a hold of these wankers! I don’t fucking get them. They’ve got miles and miles of roads and sand tracks to ride on, but they’ve gotta go on a dedicated hiking track. I saw a sticker online today that kind of sums up how I felt about it:

Dutgee was right on the Noosa River, so I went for a swim as soon as I arrived, which was extremely cold, but felt great. I nabbed the best campsite too because in the lockbox someone had left four tins of chicken meat. Score! I’d never eaten tinned chicken before, but I cracked one straight open and ate the whole thing in one mouthful. It tasted exactly the same as tinned tuna, but a different texture: kind of disgusting, but I was starving hungry, so I was very grateful. It just meant I had to carry the empty tin out with me, but that’s the price you pay for being a garbage guts and I’m ok with that. I actually ate 3 of the tins, and left one in the lock box.

The walk out of Dutgee was really nice because some of it was along the Noosa River. I was a bit worried about it though, not just because it was another long day, but because I had to cross the Cooloola Sandpatch. I wasn’t sure how easy this would be because it’s a massive desert-like bowl of sand in the middle of nowhere and I’d heard it can be difficult to see where you’re meant to go to get across it. I’d brought my compass, like the map said you should do, but I didn’t end up needing it. The sandpatch was the highlight of the trip. I could’ve easily spent an entire day there clambering around, and I fantasised how I could come back and do just that at some point in the future. My mates on the trail bikes had done some work here too, even though QPWS had put in a gate and a cavaletti to keep them out.

The last day was the nicest part of the walk. There were some great views and the vegetation was really beautiful. It was also the easiest section of the whole hike.

At one point I walked past the track to the Teewah landing. When I was in my teens I was with my friends on this track when we’d come to Teewah for a family holiday. We were chatting and laughing away and all of a sudden a naked man appeared on the track some distance ahead of us, walking in our direction. All he was carrying was a small orange life jacket. We all immediately shut up and looked at each other wondering what the fuck he was doing and what was going to happen when we had to walk past him. It was truly weird, but I found it so hard to keep from laughing. I had to stare at the ground because I knew if I looked at anyone I’d start laughing and not be able to stop. As he approached us, he slid the life jacket over his privates, walked past and slid the life jacket over his backside, and kept walking, like nothing weird was going on at all. Where was he going! And what the hell was he doing with the life jacket! We all wondered what would happen when we saw him on our return trip, but who knows where he went because we didn’t see him again. It was a source of great hilarity for the rest of the trip and for many years afterwards. This happened like 30 years ago and I still wonder from time to time what the fuck he was doing with the life jacket, just carrying it like that for no reason, with no boat in sight. I mean, yeah, it was weird him being naked like that in the middle of nowhere, but the life jacket? What the hell!

Close to the end the trail went out onto the beach, but I DID NOT want to walk on the beach because walking on the beach into the wind, with boots and a big pack on your back sucks, so I stayed on the road and kept going that way. I planned to get back on the trail when I saw where it cut back across the road from the beach, but I walked straight past it. Lucky, because otherwise I would never have found this hiking Lego man, who was waiting for me on the side of the road:

GO GO GO
GO GO GO
Just do your best
This is not a test
This is your life
Send your body to flight