Of highlands and heartlines - Post Script

So how was your hike?

How do you measure physical challenge?
How do you measure an experience?
How do you measure learning?
How do you measure emotional response?
How do you measure love?

The trail was tough.
The trail was difficult, harder than any other trail I have walked before.
The physical challenge was tough.

The physical challenge provoked strong emotional responses.
Hiking always amplifies my thoughts.
I wandered and I pondered.
There were times of meditation, of stillness, of being in the moment
And there were times of sorrow, grief and suffering.
I owned the pain and touched the void.

The hike didn't "fix" me.
The struggle is real, and continues to this day.
Life is a playing field, where I am coming to terms with boundary lines which are blurred and goal posts which have been moved.

Where am I going?
My internal compass is spinning, out of control.
I don't know which direction I am meant to be heading.
The path ahead is unknown.

So if you are tempted to ask me, how are you, are you OK?

I will just smile and say "fine" because the truth is just too painful to describe in words


To my base camp - thank you for your love and support and keeping me afloat

And my final words for now will be .....courage, endurance and love

Of highlands and heartlines - the epilogue

One of the underlying philosophies of Peak Learning Adventures is to educate, teach and allow individuals to grow through the medium of adventure.
And that is exactly what happened....

When asked how to describe the Mt Victoria trek, I use three words - 
wild, untouched, beauty

Trekking in pristine wilderness on the path less travelled was a labour of love.
As I plodded along, I immersed myself in the experience and savoured every moment
I coped with the physical challenges imposed by the terrain and the altitude, tummy upsets and badly blistered lips
But the emotional struggles were confronting.

My friend had pursued our original plan and was one of the team who successfully completed Zac's 2016 expeditionary trek.
Wednesday June 21 sums it up......
After realizing the goal of summiting Mt Victoria, the words I wrote to my friend 18 months before came flooding back.....

"The canopy of the rain-forest, the moss covered trees, 
the bird-calls in the jungle.
Clambering over massive tree roots, traversing the spurs and ridge-lines,
the sunrises and the sunsets
When fat raindrops fall on your tent, there will be no escape.
And know when you reach the summit, stop and remember there will be one person sharing the experience, in spirit
You will never forget that I would have been there, 
Could have been there......."


A new title for the blog "Of highlands and heartlines" came to me as I was training for this trek and it truly represents my Mt Victoria experience in the most poignant way. 
This trek was a bittersweet experience.

I was uplifted by my tenacity and willingness to forge ahead despite my irrevocably altered life. 
I am so proud of myself for being self-reliant, independent and resilient and for following my dreams.

Zac reminded me that I was only the fifth woman to summit Mt Victoria, and the first South Australian woman.

Many of the "boys" congratulated me when we completed the trek, bestowing me with the name "Queen Victoria".

But the ultimate compliment came from one of the porters, Copeland, who remarked to me when we parted - "you are a very strong woman"


Thank you to Ian and Zac for sharing this journey with me and for the photos.

Venus and crescent moon -
sentinel in the dawn of summit morn

Of highlands and heartlines - Komo Village to Port Moresby

We packed up for the last time.
My beloved Scarpas - wet and muddy from day one, they never failed me.
My Black Diamond walking poles  - used all day, every day, my constant companions
My Osprey daypack - I do not feel complete without it on my back, symbol of the load I was bearing.

Farewells, thank yous and congratulatory photos followed by a bumpy, butt-jarring drive to Popondetta - 3 hours to travel 75 kms, an indication of the road conditions

Of highlands and heartlines - Cicada Camp to Komo Village

The last day, we were up before sunrise.
We had a long day ahead of us.

Despite a clear morning, the clouds again moved up from the valley early.
Intiially, we followed the ridgeline uphill to a knoll passing several clearings which normally had expansive views of the Yodda Valley but unfortunately low cloud obscured the outlook.
We continued down (and up) along the ridgeline before the real descent began.

The descent was steep, slippery and unrelenting.
We found ourselves back under the rainforest canopy, thick with pandanus and bamboo. Clambering over massive tree roots, the terrain slowed our pace barely making 2 kms per hour.
I was being particularly cautious, very careful with my foot and pole placement.
I am always slower on descents, but I was conscious that I was slower than usual.
It was tedious work, requiring the utmost concentration.
  

We lunched at 1230, stopping for 30 minutes only, rain forcing us on.
At this stage, our estimated time of arrival into Komo Village was around 5pm.

We headed downhill, along the never-ending ridgeline, intermittent rain all afternoon making the track slippery, raincoats on, rain coats off, slowing our pace even more.

Down, down - bone-jarring, foot-sore, weary.
Regular stops to drink and snack every hour

The showers turned to heavy rain, treacherous conditions, the pace slowing even more.

Every bit of concentration required, no twisted knees or ankles needed now....

Trying to get in before dark, our estimated time to destination getting pushed back later and later.

Light fading, energy flagging.

The trudge turned to a slog.
I was determined not to be walking in the dark.

Onward and downward.
Don't stop.
Keep going.

We  finally reached the plateau of gardens and marched into Komo Village in fading light, just before nightfall.
A archway garlanded in flowers and a bamboo table with fruit platters welcomed us

I think the stats speak for themselves - 10 hours, 10 kms, 2000m descent - what a day!
Pure relief.
I was done, in every sense. 

Of highlands and heartlines - Camp Deliverance to Cicada camp

Amazing views this morning of the eastern flanks and ridge line of Mt Victoria with distant views of the ridge line we traversed on Days 2 and 3 and the Yodda Valley.

Knowing there were only 2 days until we finish, there is a sense of relief but also sadness.
I have loved the routine of eat, walk, sleep, repeat.
Day in, day out.
I wished I could keep going, exploring and discovering more of this amazing wilderness.

Another short day of hiking today.
The clouds rolled in early today and it rained from mid-morning.
This coupled with the thick rain forest terrain slowed my pace enormously.
The front of the group scurried off in search of the campsite, forgetting about the tail.
The heavy rain had drenched me, I was wet and cold and quickly became frustrated at not being able to find the trail. The constant downpour made it difficult to see and I had no-one to follow.
It is amazing to see how the weather or your mood can profoundly alter your experience.
I became very frustrated and angry.
Luckily, Blaizes was behind me and helped navigate me through the jungle.
We eventually made camp and I vented my opinions on "group walking etiquette" to the walk leaders.

The heavy rain persisted for most of the afternoon with a thunderstorm thrown in for good measure.
Fortunately, there was ample firewood, and a blazing fire went a long way in creating a congenial camp.
The group continued their trip reflections over cups of tea.
When the rain eventually stopped in the late afternoon, the pitter-patter of raindrops on the tarp were replaced by a loud chorus of cicadas.
And that's what sealed the deal - we named this last campsite - Cicada camp.

The rain started again in the evening and persisted until the early hours of morning, keeping me awake and on high alert for flooding around my tent!

Blaizes and Simon keeping the home fires burning

Of highlands and heartlines - Paradise Camp to Camp Deliverance

A short 2 hour walk today to Camp Deliverance, descending only 400 metres with tonight's camp being our last above 3000 metres.

Copeland tending the fire

Jerry and Andy

Copeland

We spent a relaxing afternoon around a massive fire, contemplating our journey. 

The campsite afforded great views of Mt Victoria, her eastern flanks and Mt Huxley. 

Knowing we had traversed that ridge line yesterday left me awe-struck and the realization of such an amazing achievement was setting in. 

Mt Huxley

The Mt Victoria ridge line 

The boys enjoying a well earned rest

Ian (Bear Grylls) sampling the local insect cuisine

Today, I was at peace with myself. 

I wanted to savour the experience knowing there were only 2 more days left on the trail. 

Of highlands and heartlines - Summit day - to Paradise Camp

The good, the bad and the ugly......

A wet and windy night cleared to a crisp cool morning. 
Zac had us up early before dawn to make the most of summit day. 
The ridgeline silhouetted in the pre-dawn skies with a crescent moon and Venus rising just above the horizon.

We breakfasted with views of the distant lights of Port Moresby 75 kms away

But it was the view of the Mt Vic massif that had me awe-struck. 
The rugged ridgeline leading to the summit with its steep rocky bluffs and peaks was an extraordinary sight.

We climbed and clambered up, using a 40 m fixed rope to guide us up a steep section. 
We contoured our way along grassy ledges in between sheer rock faces, heading for a notch above Camp Desperation (Day 10, 2016 trek)

Looking back to Soc's camp - the clearing just left of centre.
In hindsight, the clearing on the right may have been a better choice.

No, Mt Victoria is not the obvious peak dominating the photo in the centre.
On the far right, there are two peaks.
Mt Huxley is at the far right and Mt Victoria is the next one on the left. 

Over the notch, the views to valleys were obscured by a thick blanket of white cloud.
The western flanks of the mountain range were clear but the clouds were closing in. 
There was still a lot of work to do. 
We contoured up and down across grassy verges passing numerous small tarns.

Fatigue was setting in. 
A number of factors were conspiring against me - lack of sleep, the after-effects of the gastro, the altitude, a heavy heart..... 
I marched on.

A wild-pig sighting proved a welcome distraction, with the boys dumping the packs and leaping around the hillsides like mountain goats trying to herd and capture it. 
Unfortunately, roast pork did not make it on to the menu for dnner that night.

Above the cloudline at 3800m

Andy leading the way

Blaizes, my tail-end Charlie

Dwarfed by the mountains, can you see the boys???

We re-grouped with the summit in our sights. 
The final push was upon us. 
We negotiated our way across and up the grassy terraces. 
Scrambling over the rocky outcrops, the large cairn now visible on the summit became the focus.
My pace was slow but determined. 
With about 50 metres to the top, I summoned my strength and said to my companion, "lead me to the top, Simon".
At midday, I reached the summit.

Mt Victoria summit just left of centre, with Mt Huxley shrouded in cloud to the far left

Blaizes, Simon and I just shy of the summit

Fleeting views to the west with clouds rolling up the gullies, I was disappointed that I had taken so long to get to the top. 
But I was relieved, it was done!

Congratulatory cheers, handshakes, hugs and photos. 
We had lunch, resting our backs and packs against the cairn.

We made it!

Blaizes and Zac

Ian and Jerry

I savoured every minute of the hour we spent on the summit, but mixed emotions threatened to overwhelm me.
After realising the goal of summitting Mt Victoria, the words I wrote to my friend 18 months before came flooding back.....

"The canopy of the rainforest, the moss covered trees, 
the birdcalls in the jungle.
Clambering over massive tree roots, traversing the spurs and ridgelines,
the sunrises and the sunsets
When fat raindrops fall on your tent, there will be no escape.
And know when you reach the summit, stop and remember there will be one person sharing the experience, in spirit
You will never forget that I would have been there, 
Could have been there......."

We left at 1pm, starting the descent along the ridgeline towards Mt Huxley.
Ridgetop walking is one of my favourite things, but I was spent, physically and emotionally.
I struggled to find the concentration and the energy to descend safely. This was no time to be stumbling or not finding your footholds. 
But all I was thinking was "get me off this mountain".

Simon was finding it difficult to follow the faint track.
A "short-cut" was nominated by the Ebei boys, heading off the known path. 
The group was splintering and it was becoming apparent that we had a few too many chiefs and not enough Indians.

The "shortcut" took us off the ridgeline through thick scrub and undergrowth with lots of cutting required. 
We encountered sheer rocky cliffs and a waterfall before Zac pulled rank and directed us back towards the ridgetop. 
After a two hour detour, with tired trekkers and tired porters, Zac abandoned the search for Lake Camp and we descended and camped in grasslands at the edge of the treeline at 3600m.

Zac had his first sighting of McGregor's Bird of Paradise, so camp was named "Paradise Camp"

It started to rain. The "dry" season must be a myth up here in the mountains.....

I had pushed myself today to the point of exhaustion.
I tumbled into my tent, and curled up like a ball in the cocoon of my sleeping bag. 
I was spent.