Adam, Leigh and the Trees

Day 17: Collie to Yabberup Campsite

Daily distance hiked: 22km
Cumulative distance hiked: 371km

Whilst my soft, warm bed at The Diamond Lodge felt like pure luxury, I was keen to get back on trail and keep moving south. My hip was starting to stiffen from all the sitting I’d done over the last two days. I made an early start, re-washed my clothes, showered and even managed some deodorant, a score from the lodge hiker box.

I indulged in yet more fresh food before heading out: yoghurt, strawberries and blueberries. I felt nourished and ready to go. I was leaving Collie with an excessively heavy pack, mostly thanks to a boujee resupply of yoghurt, eggs, cheese, salami, cucumber, capsicum and hummus. It was a bit extra, but I love having fresh food on trail.

I had reception for the first few km out of town, so I called home. It was my Dad’s birthday, and we chatted as I walked. It was gentle, pretty single track, and I even spotted an adorable echidna as I meandered.

I hadn’t walked far before it was time for lunch. I found a delightful spot by the river and enjoyed a gourmet wrap so jam-packed it looked like an oversized taco. I ate and watched birds swooping like fighter jets over the water, catching bugs.

Despite feeling a little sluggish from the heavy pack and gourmet lunch, the walk through to Yabberup campsite passed quickly. The trail meandered through a beautiful stand of white gums, skirting the edge of Mungalup Dam.

As I walked, I reflected on solo hiking and the freedom of moving entirely at my own pace. When Adam and I hike together, I’m mindful of my habits that test his patience: stopping every few metres to photograph flowers, eating in my sleeping bag, dawdling through resupply. Out here on my own, there was no one to wait on me, and I could indulge every one of them. I felt completely free, having settled into my own rhythm.

Approaching camp, I could hear voices in the distance. Based on the volume of chatter, I thought I was in for a fun night with plenty of company, but it turned out to be a school group at the nearby group campsite. As the trail skirted their site and climbed the final hill to the hut, the voices faded. I had the hut to myself. I’m not sure if it was knowing there were other humans close by, or the resilience built from the horror night at Harris Dam, but I felt more at ease than I had on the last few nights of solo hutting.

Day 18: Yabberup Campsite to Noggerup Campsite

Daily distance hiked: 21km
Cumulative distance hiked: 392km

Before I set out on the Bib I questioned whether I would still enjoy thru-hiking. It had been 6 years since the PCT and 7 since the TA. Now that I did more trail running than walking, would it feel slow and monotonous? Would I get bored? 357km in, just over a third of the way along the Bib, I was loving it. I had fallen into the beautifully simple rhythm of trail life: eat, walk, sleep, repeat. My biggest concern was the experience ending faster than I would like.

I’m often asked why I enjoy long distance hiking, and I find the why can be difficult to articulate. A big part of thru-hiking for me is the opportunity to reset, to strip life back to its simplest, a moving meditation of sorts.

We live a life of relative ease these days. So many conveniences are available that all of the friction of living has been removed. Our groceries are delivered to our door without us setting foot in a supermarket. Ready made meals sit in the fridge without us having cooked them. We have an infinite catalogue of movies at our fingertips, and a trip to the video store is no longer required.

The joy, however, comes from that friction. A trip to the video store was a time commitment and a conscious decision. The drive there built anticipation, and searching the shelves for a movie was exciting. After all of that I enjoyed the movie more, settling in, snacks in hand. It was a full event.

The same goes for hiking. Beautiful places are more enjoyable when effort and suspense are required to reach them. Food tastes more delicious when you’ve carried it 9 days and 200km for your enjoyment. Shelter becomes coveted when you’re exposed to the elements for weeks at a time. I was grateful for the opportunity to be back on a long trail, immersed in nature, with the space for perspective.

I had a peaceful nights sleep at Yabberup Camp. Other than a midnight wee, I didn’t wake up until 8am until the birds started over head. Just before 10 am I was getting ready to hike out when I spotted another hiker approaching the hut. It turned out to be “Yoyo Brett”, my old trail buddy Jeff had mentioned him to me over email from back up the trail.

Brett was an energetic and chatty 50 something local to WA who had hiked in from Collie that morning. Brett had given himself his trail name, unsurprisingly because he was planning to YoYo the trail. Meaning that one he reached the Albany trail head he would turn around and walk back to Kalamunda.

After chatting for a little while and exchange the usual trail pleasantries, I departed, leaving Brett to his break. We ended up crossing paths again just past Glen Mervyn dam where he kindly made me a coffee from his trail espresso maker. The generosity and instant closeness that trail life creates is magical, when else would accepting a coffee from a stranger when alone in the bush feel like the right thing to do. Or conversely, offering a complete stranger a coffee on the side of a trail in the middle of the bush.

I thanked him for the coffee and continued on, leaving him to his lunch break. He ended up catching up with me again just before the Mumby pub when I was playing paparazzi to some bees collecting pollen from spring time flowers.

Unfortunately I found the The Mumby pub closed when I arrived. I was disappointed but with its very narrow open times it would have been a miracle to have timed my arrival. After commiserating together, Brett and I hiked out from the pub and continued most together most of the way to Noggerup together.

The second day of my luxe Collie food haul continued, tonight it was tinned ramen with tinned chicken and capsicum. I was enjoying my dinner but was feeling exhausted. After spend so much time alone on the trail I had learnt to really enjoy my own company and was feeling worn down by Brett’s constant need to talk. Part way through dinner I started to realise that he wasn’t actually listening the anything I said and the dialogue had become less a conversation and of a monologue, Brett wasn’t listening to anything I said. Married, Brett had not spent much time away from his wife and kids and as I quickly began to realise, was not comfortable being alone. He needed someone to talk to and I was merely plugging that gap for him, a vehicle that he could talk to. As I would come to learn the longer I was on the trail, this was a consistent theme for this particular demographic of hiker on the Bib.

I was thankful for Bretts company but I was also thankful for his lofty speed goals, knowing he would be hiking faster than me through Balingup and beyond. For now I mustered the reminder of the energy in my social battery and politely nodded and smiled, savouring some solitude in my journaling and reading.

Day 19: Noggerup Campsite to Grimwade Campsite

Daily distance hiked: 24km
Cumulative distance hiked: 416km

I discovered at 5am this morning that Brett was one of those hikers who sets an alarm to get up and out early. Despite the early wake-up, I opted for a relaxed start, reading and enjoying two cups of coffee before heading out on trail around 9am.

The trail to Grimwade Campsite was beautiful, running through large stretches of old-growth forest. The trees were bigger and more widely spaced, with less fire damage than I’d seen on the trail so far. With only 20km ahead of me, I took my time, enjoyed being immersed in the beauty and took lots of long, scenic breaks.

I arrived at camp around 4pm and was thankful to find extra company. There were five of us in total: an English police officer and PCT alumnus who had recently transferred to WA, a WA local attempting to walk end-to-end in 25 days, Brett and me. I enjoyed meeting some new hikers and reminiscing with the police officer about the PCT.

I had learned the day before that Brett kept a diary of the hikers ahead of him. He’d scan the hut books, note their names and distances, and set about catching them one by one, ticking them off as he went. Our two new companions weren’t on his list. They had come up from behind and leapfrogged him, not out of ego but simple circumstance, one walking to a deadline and the other simply covering huge distances each day. It was a little childish of me, but I couldn’t help a small smile as Brett realised there was no catching either of them. It took the wind out of his sails, just a little.

Day 20: Grimwade Campsite to Balingup

Daily distance hiked: 23km
Cumulative distance hiked: 439km

Grimwade turned out to be a mousey hut. I was woken during the night by people fending off mice from their food and gear, and was glad I had hung my pack. Despite the disturbed sleep, I was back out on trail by 6.30. It was town day!

It rained heavily all the way to Balingup. The trail was super pretty and on a dry day I would have ambled and taken plenty of photos, but it was far too wet today, so instead I legged it into town. I rarely use music on trail, but this morning I put on a running playlist and powered through the puddles. There was nothing to do but lean into it. I covered 22km in 5 hours and it felt good to move faster and push harder. It was a nice reminder that sometimes a physical challenge can be as enjoyable as a scenic stroll, but I was also conscious of the impact on my body and my recovering hip injury, and I know too much of it isn’t sustainable for me.

I fell in love with Balingup the minute I stepped onto the main street. It’s a quaint village dotted with stores selling handmade pottery, crafts, homewares and food, not to mention the delicious cafes. Best of all, the entire town was dressed up for its annual Medieval Carnivale, with court jesters and knights lining the main street.

First port of call was Mr Foster’s Cafe, where I enjoyed a huge breakfast as my second lunch of the day, two coffees and a slice of carrot cake. I was in heaven. I stocked up on a takeaway soup for dinner, then headed over to the famous Rails and Bails, where I would be spending the night.

Rails and Bails are local trail angels who support the track and its hikers. A beautiful retired couple, they generously host hikers in their home. Not only did they offer me a comfy bed, they gave me a fresh, clean robe to wear while I did my laundry, and had very kindly collected my resupply package from the post office. I was able to get warm, dry and clean, and get organised for the next section ahead. Also staying at Rails and Bails was Bronwyn, a Perth local who had walked the track four times before and was in the midst of a yo-yo attempt. I picked her brain over a freshly baked passionfruit slice and formed a plan for the next few weeks.

My stomach had been bothering me for the last couple of days. I put it down to excessive amounts of hard cheese and salami, but the bloating had reached an uncomfortable level. By the time I unpacked my resupply box, the mere sight of sun-dried tomatoes and Kraft cheese made me feel ill. Those rations, along with bags of jerky I could no longer face, went into the Rails and Bails hiker box, and I opted to keep it simple for the next leg. Peanut butter and wraps it would be.