Back home

I also forgot to say I broke my trekking pole - part of it’s still somewhere on the South Viking spur!

I had an enjoyable time on the river and ended the day with dinner, custard and a cup of tea. I drank so many cups of river water - couldn’t get enough of it. I headed off to bed and read my ebook for a bit. Then it started to rain! Had set up tent a bit loosely so it didn’t stretch in the sunshine, which meant a bit of rain got in, but nothing serious. It was still raining when I decided to get up around five this morning. In the lulls between heavier falls, I managed to get everything packed up and crossed the river wearing my flip-flops. The river level was only marginally higher than yesterday. I applied a new blister plaster, put my boots on and set off a bit after 6:30am. I had one or two issues finding the trail but then it was fine, up to the Zeka track.

Zeka 4WD track

More wildflowers along the way

So, finding the Zeka track was easy enough, as was walking along it for around 5 km. A slog at times but a welcome relief after all the navigational challenges of the day before. But I wasn’t able to find the “closed road” going west up the Wonnangatta spur - I went at least 400 metres past the turnoff on the map but found nothing. So, I took a west-northwest bearing and bashed off up the hill. I think this was the first time (of many) I said out loud “oh for f**k’s sake, I just want to get home!”. The spur was an obstacle course slog through fallen trees and scratching regrowth. What a drag! I eventually found the remains of an old vehicle track by heading for the ridgetop and criss-crossing it a few times. By “remains” I mean a vaguely flatter area about the width of a car but totally overgrown, blocked every few metres by fallen trees and disappearing altogether every 20 metres or so. Felt like a forensic scientist trying to work out a crime scene every few metres. Or, like being in a rocky relationship where you could be dumped at any minute without warning. The track dumped me frequently but I somehow always managed to find my way back onto it. This continued for hours, with occasional points where I lost the track and spent some time just sticking to due west.

View from Wonnangatta spur

On the right track!

Finally, the blessed, most loved Macallister Springs track hove into view, complete with sign, which I promptly took a photo of.

The last trick was minutes from the car park - a fork in the track. I stayed on the larger trail but it was soon blocked by a fallen tree with no obvious foot pads around it, so I backtracked, took the other trail and arrived at my car a few minutes later - hooray!

View on the drive back to Licola

I drove back to Licola, listening first to the cricket then to some of my music. Neil Young’s “Heart of Gold” triggered a flood a feelings - relief, exhilaration and something a bit deeper - a reconnection at some level, perhaps with my manhood or my soul or the Universal Soul, or all of these things. For a few blessed minutes I felt as light as a bird on the wing.

Thinking about it now, I can’t really tap into the feeling and it’s probably unrealistic to try to. I’ve noticed that telling Nadia about my experiences of the last few days doesn’t greatly resemble how it really was and how it really felt. Just like writing these words doesn’t really capture how it was and how it felt. Nadia understands that.

Experiencing nature in this way is very different from, e.g. Wilsons Prom a couple of weeks ago. I remember feeling, on the drive up and the first days of the walk, a real fear of the sheer scale of the landscape. I wouldn’t say there’s exactly a presence of malevolence but it’s certainly a stern, unforgiving face that I’ve gazed upon.