The day dawned - brilliant sunshine greeting us!
Today we had the option of a "rest day". The planned hike up to John's Knoll was touted as an optional extra, but all bar one decided to partake.
There was no trail to follow. Titus, along with the porters who lived in Mouska, used their local knowledge, followed animal tracks and steered us up the steep muddy slopes.
Today was another trying test for the knife wielding locals, who once again rose to the occasion.
It was a slow and tedious process slashing the dense undergrowth and choosing a suitable path up the steep incline.
We were almost following the same route as the 2/27th up Trevor's Ridge to John's Knoll.
It was as though we were walking with ghosts, yet honouring the fallen. The fight for John's Knoll was another key battle of the campaign. We were almost following the same route as the 2/27th up Trevor's Ridge to John's Knoll.
We were reportedly the first Australians to explore the Knoll since WW2 and it really felt like we were on our own reconnoitring mission.
Whilst we stopped for morning tea, the locals hastily constructed a trap which they proudly displayed to the group. The "spring trap" was designed to catch and trap a cassowary.
We lunched near the heavily wooded summit of the Knoll with only limited views from the top.
The descent proved to be extremely slippery in places, with the walking poles getting another good workout
The Mouska villagers were eagerly anticipating our return.
We were treated to a concert by the women singing and dancing to two traditional songs accompanied, not by the local musicians, but a portable boom box playing a cassette taped music recording.
The women also displayed their beautiful basket weaving skills.
We watched the men, fascinated, as they started fire from scratch, literally. Simply by rubbing two sticks of wood together and all in the space of 2 minutes.
One of the men brought out his bow and arrows, fashioned from palm wood, to demonstrate how they hunt for wild pig. Several group members tried their hand at it, with mixed fortunes.
Meeting the villagers and sharing their way of life was a wonderful cultural insight.
It was also a privilege to meet the family of my personal porter, Leipus, who was the father of three boys. Their pride in their father's contribution to this trek was obvious and so special to witness.
On his home turf, I witnessed Leipus interact with his family and his community and he showed his true character - genuinely kind-hearted, good natured and gentle of spirit.
That night we again huddled under a tarp to shelter from intermittent rain showers, exchanging stories and singing round the campfire.
Camped in the shadow of Shaggy Ridge with Venus rising in the twilight sky, does it get any better than this!
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