Of highlands and heartlines - Bamboo Camp to Running Brook

Awoke to another clear morning, with a distinct hint of chill in the air.

We mentioned to the boys that we would have great views of Mt Vic, 
if it wasnt for the trees......

Campsite with the "offending" trees in the background

The "offending" trees

Well, that was enough for three of them to spring tino action. 
Out came their axes and after sizing up the challenge, they commenced an all-out assault on three very large trees. 
They chopped frantically, as if their lives depended on it, and as we heard the cracking of tree trunks, we hollered "TIMBER" as they fell away.

The view was revealed - what a sight! 
A magnificent view of the ridge line and both the peaks of Mt Vic and Mt Huxley.
And I reminded myself, that is why I climb.....a view to savour. 
How many people have had the privilege of seeing this!

This morning's walking was not as arduous as yesterday. Climbing steadily again, gaining more altitude, I plodded at a slow steady pace coping with the physical demands.

Still under canopy and the bamboo more prolific, there was a lot of track clearing.Today the concentration was focussed on trying not to trip over the freshly cut bamboo. The remnant spikes, sheared off at calf-height, ready to impale me if I stumbled and fell in the wrong direction. It was a constant worry.

My sunhat was again adorned with flowers, mainly yellow rhododendrons, picked by myself, Andy and several of the boys. This became a daily ritual which created a special bond between us.

We stopped for a break at Spilled Spaghetti campsite (Camp 3 - 2016) at around 11am, and just shy of 3000m. 

A heavy downpour of rain forced us to erect a tarp for shelter. 

A decision was made to have lunch as the rain persisted. 
And then came the thunderstorm. We huddled under the tarp watching the rain pelt down around us, the temperatures dropped and we played the waiting game. 

None of the porters were keen to press on in this weather. We thought it might abate and whilst there were ebbs and flows, there were too many "flows" and the call was made mid-afternoon to abandon any plans to continue and camp here for the night.

The gloomy weather conditions matched my mood today - dark and stormy. Sitting around with plenty of time for contemplation, the burdens of my heart weighed heavy with me this afternoon - recalling hurts, anguish, sorrow and the loss of friendship.

I feel like I have been treading water, out of my depth in an ocean of despair, trying to keep my head above water. 
But now I am getting tired, I need some help, but no-one hears my cries for assistance. 
And I asked the question of myself - "what on earth am I doing here?"

Eventually the rain did stop, the tents were set up and I decided to check out the creek about 100m from camp.
The rain had turned this trickling stream into a fast-flowing creek, water tumbling over the river stones. I thought of a name, "The Cascades" to name this camp, but the group decided that Running Brook was a better description.
Despite the cool temperature, I wasn't going to waste the opportunity to bathe in a mountain stream. 
Always a wonderful experience.......

The boys spent a few hours doing some preparatory work on the track ahead, clearing and cutting steps on several very steep sections. This would prove to be invaluable tomorrow.

The rain had dampened the firewood, sustaining a good fire proved to be one of the main challenges of each camp.

Of highlands and heartlines - Clearing Camp to Bamboo Camp

Survived the night without the tent floating away and a clear sunny morning greeted us.

Simon leading the way

This morning's walking was strenuous. As we ascended, we traversed a narrow spur only a metre wide in most places with steep drops away on both sides. We clambered over large hollowed-out trees with massive tree roots. The ground underfoot was very spongy - it felt like you were walking on a mattress. Beautiful rainforest and perfect leech territory, we kept a watchful eye out for the little critters.

Through the dense forest, there were glimpses of the Yodda Valley to the south. It was a deliberate slow pace, being very careful not to put a foot wrong - this was ankle-breaking, knee-jarring terrain.

Ian making it look easy

A steep 500m ascent and my energy levels were sapped. Needing a sugar and caffeine hit, I called for a break - my Haigh's chocolate coffee beans worked a treat! 
We pushed on and had a leisurely lunch at Fern Gully (Camp 2 for the 2016 trek) 

During the afternoon's walking, we spied the first evidence of cassowary excrement and clumps of bamboo became a more common sight amongst the forest and pandanus. More climbing had us ascending well over 2000m. 
We had several stops to re-group with negotiations of where we would camp that night. We were aiming for the morning tea or lunch stops of day 3 of the 2016 trek - an ambitious goal. More track cutting than anticipated and the heavy loads for the porters resulted in a slower pace and required a change of plans.
At 4.30pm with light drizzle falling, we called it a day finding a suitable, if somewhat cramped, campsite. It had some limited views of the Mt Victoria ridgeline and for obvious reasons, we called it "Bamboo Camp".

Meeting time

Bamboo Camp

Of highlands and heartlines - Kanga Village to Clearing Camp

I was keen to climb the mountain, but formalities first......

Zac had encouraged Ian and I to bring a donation of books for the Kanga Village school.
It was a privilege to present our books to Jessie who had been our village tour guide yesterday. In a corner of one of the classrooms was a dedicated library area, which had only a few books. Ian had brought a selection of Roald Dahl novels to donate. I had researched books especially for 5-6 year old children, the same age as Alexis, my granddaughter. I purchased some early readers and showed Alexis prior to my departure. She was able to read the stories to me and so I was pleased that they were age-appropriate. Jessie gratefully accepted our donations on behalf of the school.

Jessie accepting our donated books

School's out!

The trekking team assembled on the common. The porters and the trekkers stood together listening to farewell speeches by Michael Lucas and Zac. Michael was campaigning for parliament so was not available for the whole trek. Nevertheless, he was there to support us, send us off and was in radio contact with us during the first few and last days of the trek. 
Simon, who was a personal porter last year, stepped up to be the local guide. 
Blaizes, who was Zac's porter last year, was given the responsibility of second-in-charge. My personal porter was Andy who had also portered the previous year, as had Kenny, personal porter for Ian. There was a mix of old and new porters with several members from the 2016 trek alongside some new participants.

Michael Lucas addressing the group

Zac Zaharias, trek leader

The 2017 team

Andy's house

Andy's young family

The formalities over, backpacks were slung over the shoulders and we bid farewell to the villagers.
We headed northwest, climbing steadily from our starting altitude of approximately 350m above sea level.
Under the canopy of prisitine rainforest, the track rises steeply. June is meant to be the dry season, but plenty of rain had fallen in the preceeding weeks. This was good and bad. Plentiful water supply meant no shortage of drinking water. The downside was a slippery forest floor, requiring concentration with every step.
The track was still overgrown in places despite the clearing last year. Still plenty of work for the axe men. It doesn't take long for the forest to reclaim itself.

Lead the way, Andy

The only way is up!

Copeland wielding the axe

Blaizes tending the fire

My hat already adorned with rhododendron flowers, thanks to Andy

We arrived at "Surprise camp" (Camp 1, 2016) at 2pm having ascended about 1000m. This small knoll afforded fabulous views of the ridgeline we would be descending in 10 days time and glimpses of Mt Victoria itself.

Ian and I with our personal porters, Andy and Kenny

We continued on for another 3 hours and were successful in gaining some extra time and distance along the track thus creating a buffer for any future bad weather or other contingencies.

Concentration, every step of the way

Narrow verges

We arrived at our campsite around 5pm having trudged for the last hour in a tropical downpour. It was situated at the base of a steep spur leading up to Fern Gully Camp (Camp 2, 2016 trek)
Wielding their axes and bush knives, the boys got to work. 
I have never seen a team of men create a clearing, campsite and tent sites for fifteen porters and three trekkers within an hour. It was a marvel to watch! Andy even cut fern fronds to place on the ground providing a somewhat padded footprint for my tent. He also split a few tree trunks in half to create a "paved" entrance into my tent. This wooden "portico" proved invaluable in keeping my muddy wet boots and backpack out of the tent and protected in the vestibule.

Afternoon rain persisted well into the evening resulting in a very damp camp with wet firewood and a small smoky fire. Trenches were dug by the boys to prevent our tents from flooding.  
We retreated to bed by 9.30pm.

Tarps up!

Clearing Camp

Of highlands and heartlines - Port Moresby to Kanga Village

It had finally arrived - day 1 of the Mt Victoria trek

Sometimes, the challenge is getting to the start of a trek in PNG. 

The trek leader, Zac had arrived in PNG several days beforehand to organise supplies. 
My fellow trekker, Ian had arrived the previous day and assisted Zac in the final packing. 
Two days of travelling found me sitting in a rudimentary aircraft hangar on the fringes of Jackson's International Airport at Port Moresby at 7am!

A small charter plane had been ordered to deliver us to Kokoda. A single engine Cessna parked on the tarmac awaited loading. 16 backpacks were checked in and weighed - 380kg of cargo!
Our pilot, "Aussie Dan" took the controls and we departed just before 8am. 
Crossing the Owen Stanley Ranges, we flew through Kokoda Gap with views of the Myola Lakes to the right and through the jungle, we spied ridgetop sections of the Kokoda track on the left. We even managed some fleeting glimpses of the Isurava Memorial through breaks in the low cloud.

After circuiting a full 360 degrees and descending through a thick blanket of low cloud nestled in the valley, Dan performed a textbook landing on the soft grassy Kokoda airstrip.

We offloaded the voluminous supplies from the plane, waited for our transportation to arrive, and then reloaded the provisions onto the PMV

PMV, or public motor vehicle, is the name given for any type of public transport in PNG. It could be a dilapidated mini-bus, or a utility with no seats, but space in the rear tray top. No airconditioned 4WD for us hardy trekkers. Ours was a truck with a cab at the front and the rear section with two facing wooden benches and a metal frame with a canvas tarp for a canopy. I was happy to be one of the "locals" and ride in the back with Ian. 

It was a 40 mnute drive along a poorly maintained pot-holed road from Kokoda Village passing through palm oil plantations before arriving at the last washout at Ebei Village in the Yodda Valley. This was the end of the road. 
The loads were wrestled off the PMV and allocated to the porters. 
We donned our sandals and daypacks and just after 10am, set off to walk the 5km to Kanga Village

This is when you knew the adventure was only just beginning....
A big rain the previous day had turned the walking track into a quagmire.
My feet quickly became two massive clogs of mud. Normally dry creekbeds were now flowing streams. My feet and legs sunk into ankle, sometimes calf-deep mud and it was extremely difficult to extricate my feet and the walking poles from the bog.
We criss-crossed streams using narrow grass verges and fallen logs to provide footholds. I was assisted across several fast flowing rivers by the porters, successfully avoiding any tumbles. It made for a slow procession. 

We reached Kanga Village in just over two and a half hours, greeted with celebratory cheers and floral garlands. 
We set ourselves up on the covered verandah of the main house in the village which provided shelter and an elevated viewing platform for observing village life. 
Zac had a "long-house" meeting with leaders from each of the three villlages in the area, Kanga, Ebei and Komo to discuss "extra payments", porter numbers and other organisational issues. There were a few rumblings in camp and Zac's diplomacy skills were put to the test. 

During the afternoon, backpacks, equipment, clothing and food were sorted and then Ian and I explored the village. Kanga is home to several hundred people. A large church building and store are located adjacent to a grassed centrally located common. Huts built on stilts are situated in three distinct areas. A new primary school and health centre (aid-post) were built three years ago with funding from Australian NGO's. We were given a guided tour by Jessie, one of the teachers in charge of approximately seventy students ranging in age from five to twelve years.

Not knowing when the next opportunity would present itself, I treated myself to a was-was in the local river before night fall. We bunked down on the verandah sleeping only in silk liners under mosquito nets due to the warm and humid conditions.

Of highlands and heartlines - the prologue

Of highlands and heartlines.....this was a trek 18 months in the making.

Literally five minutes after hearing about Peak Learning Adventures 2016 Mt Victoria trek, I had already come up with the name - "take a walk on the wild side". 

That was the original name of the blog when the trip was first presented to me in early 2016. 
A rare opportunity to share another journey with friends to PNG.
What a way to celebrate my fiftieth year on this planet!
It fitted perfectly with my theme of the year, "Dream-Catcher", and why not honour it in fine form by bagging a peak called Mt Victoria! 
I thought I would only experience PNG once in my lifetime, but this was an offer too good to refuse.

However the decision to go created a storm and a series of events unfolded.
The eventual outcome - a sacrificial gesture to save a friendship, I withdrew from the trip.

The subsequent cascade of consequences has been personally devastating,
changing the landscape of my life forever


Fast forward 12 months and I was both relieved and grateful when Zac announced a 2017 Mt Victoria trek.

However, my preparation was sub optimal. 

Going in, I was underdone, physically and emotionally
Training had been hampered by illness and injury.
Memories of the previous year haunted me. 
The aftermath of trying to cope with the grief and loss of one of my best friends had broken my spirit.
In addition to this, my workplace had become a dysfunctional and toxic environment -change processes left me feeling disengaged and disempowered, creating an intolerable situation. 

Flat and unsettled, I just needed to get on that plane and fight my demons, 

One step at a time.....