AAWT Day 1: Walhalla to Mt Erica Carpark, 23.4km

Am I ready for another big hike? My mind says yes, my body is unsure. Around 12 months ago I fractured my tibia and have done next to no major physical activity since. I was keen to allow proper healing to occur and stay off the knee for a good chunk of time. The time has now come to put it to the test.

Although I’d planned this hike well and good, sorting gear weeks in advance I still found myself making last minute changes to gear the night before. Out with a long sleeved merino tshirt and in with a polarfleece pullover for those cold days in the hills and in the wet. Out with the wind jacket and pants, utilising my wet weather gear instead. Out with a pack towel opting for a small ultralight cloth instead. And out with my long trousers, taking a pair of woman’s leggings instead, the only long pants I’ll have with me. I’ll have to buy some pants in Canberra or I’ll be wearing my wet weather pants around town – ha ha. These changes quickly reduce my weight by another 800grams and get me down to a respectable 5kg base weight. But it’s not all about the weight game. All my gear choices have me well covered for any situation and the lighter I can go means the more enjoyable hiking is. Who wants to slave up a hill when you can fly?

Morning rolls around, I shower, cook up some bacon and eggs, set the dish washer and sip on my morning coffee. Waiting for my ride to arrive I make one final last minute change, opting for LaSportiva trail runners with a rock plate in the sole over my more minimalist Altra zero drop shoes. I’m thinking the sturdier soles will pay dividends over the rocky alps country.

Soon enough I hear a car come into the drive. It’s time to head to the hills for they are calling again.

I can’t be thankful enough to the Potts family, Bridget & Marty and their kids Marly and Kowen. Great friends. They were super excited about this hike as much as I was and wanted to share in the experience with me but without the hiking, so offered to drive me to the trail head at Walhalla to feel apart of it with me. I can’t thank them enough.

Excitement was high on the drive with a touch of nerves thrown in. Conversation flowed the whole way.

We pulled into Wallhala just before 11am. Grabbing my pack from the back my heart skipped a beat as I realise I can’t find my hat. My trusty old white OR sunrunner hat that has accompanied me on all my long hikes. Damn it. I must have left it at home which is odd because my buff lives inside the hat and I’m wearing my buff. Luckily I’m travelling in a car with children and there happens to be a cap laying around. Thanks go out to young Kowen who lent me his footy cap. I owe you big time Ko. I’m not much of a footy head but it looks like I’ll be supporting the mighty Tigers on this trip. Go Richmond!

We meander over to the rotunda that marks the start of the track at Walhalla and spy the first track maker. Hugs and a few photos later I’m away up the steep stairs supported by my entourage for a while. 2 minutes into the stairs and I’m thinking, phew this is tough, as the legs pound upward. Have I got another ultra hike in me? Time will tell. The company follows to just before the tramway and turn around. Then Marty and Kowen make a last minute dash up. Final words or encouragement follow and I disappear onto the benched tramway that used to service to gold fields of yesteryear. Ah, flat terrain. That is better.

The first few kilometres come quick, following the benched and low graded tramway. I get used to weight of a pack on my back again and make a few adjustments to loosen off the straps. There has obviously been some recent trail maintenance completed as it is cleared of overhanging fern fronds that I was expecting based on other peoples trips I’d followed. I’m lost in my thoughts. OK this is real. I’m doing the AAWT.

The track contours across slope following the line of the Walhalla Road up slope and glimpses back to town and road below come and go. A few fern gullies were crossed, dark underneath with that damp earth smell filling the air. Cold, crystal clear waters have to be jumped over and the odd leech picked off before they sink their fangs in.

Soon enough I had reached the Poverty Point steel bridge crossing the Thompson River high above. Officially it is closed but I’ve seen numerous youtube clips of other AAWT hikers safety cross it and walked out on it. Surely the closure is for the masses, not AAWT hikers. Theres a few rotten boards but for the most part it is fine. Still I choose my foot placements carefully.

On the far side of the bridge a young couple out for a day walk where deep in each others arms obviously thinking they were alone and not expecting any one to cross from the far side of a closed bridge. I tried to make noise tapping my poles on the steel hand rail but the sound doesn’t register. Only when 10m away they notice the unexpected company and break apart, embarrassed. We all laugh and say g’day. Seeing my pack they know I’m not out for a day walk and are curious how far I’m going. “All the way” I say. “To Canberra!” They are amazed and surprised for the second time in 2 minutes. I move on and start following the Thompson River on the west side.

Not far along I find the perfect spot for lunch, the Flinstone table, rocks perfectly stacked to form a table and chairs with a nice view down the sheer embankment to the river below.

I wouldn’t be long before the track left the benched tram way to climb steeply up to the Thompson Road. Layers quickly came off as I slogged up. The first real hill. Not used to the exertion I paced myself, taking baby steps and backing off so as not to sweat to much straight away. By 2:15 I reached the road.

Crossing the bitumen I took my first wrong turn, only for 100m though. I started following the South Face Road but it didn’t take long to register that it didn’t feel right. Consulting my map the mistake was quickly corrected and finding the actual track I was on my way again.

For several kilometres the track was perfect. Soft underfoot and shaded it lead me to O’Sheas Mill site. This was originally my intended destination based on my rough itinerary, 12km, thinking I would start out easy. But it was only 3pm and the sun doesn’t set for another 4.5 hours. Throwing down a quick snack a decision was made. I would push on up for another 8km to the Mt Erika carpark.

Maybe a rash decision.

The track lead steeply upward for 5km much steeper than I anticipated. Muddy and leach infested. Every time I stopped for a breather I’d pick off 1 or 2. Only one ever managed to latch on for a feed.

Nearing 5pm I reached the Mt Erika Rd and onto a lower grade, still constantly climbing, legs burning. One foot in front of the other.

Just before 6pm I’d reached my destination the Mt Erica Carpark. There wasn’t much of a camp site here and with rain on the way I found the flattest piece of ground on offer to set up the tent. It was bitterly cold so high up in elevation and a strong wind blew fiercely in the mountain ash tree tops. I quickly rugged up and had dinner on the boil. Waiting patiently for the water to boil, a pair of lyrebirds scampered about right past me. No sooner than I’d had dinner cooked the rain started. Beating a retreating to the shelter of my tent I ate dinner wrapped up in my quilt and called it a night