By this stage I think you get the drift of how the trek went. The places we camped, the track itself and the challenges it presented. The emotional ups and downs. The fact that hygiene wasn’t all that flash with cold showers and no soap… and the sore feet!

Nevermind that we couldn’t get anything to really dry out fully and we would be putting on damp socks, tops and bottoms every day. It really was an adventure. One that I had never experienced before ever in my life and despite all these things, I really enjoyed the experience and knowing that anything is possible when your head is in the right place.

A couple of the highlights were swimming in the rivers. We would be glad to get our boots off and cool our feet down along with our weary bodies. It really did help for a while until we had to get going again off to our next destination.

Heartbreak on Day 6

WOW! Typing that headline has made all the emotions of that day come rushing back. Just like any other day, we were up early to get ready to take off at 6:30am. This day was a short one - 5 hours - as rather than stopping off for lunch at the usual place near the swamp not far from the village, we chose to keep going so that we arrived at our destination earlier leaving us most of the day to relax and re-coup for the next one and a half days to the finish. We were so close now!

Once again, we had to climb up a steep mountain onto Nauro. It is actually named The Nine False Peaks because we would climb a few hundred metres and then it would be flat for a while. Then there would be another steep climb and flat again. There were nine of these climbs as we headed up to camp at Nauro. That was really hard as it would give the sense of finishing the climb only to find another!

Once there, we had lunch and sat around relaxing, telling jokes and taking it in turns for the shower. It was my turn to head for the shower so I gathered my things and headed off. What happened next I couldn’t have ever imagined happening. Not to me anyway because I was always extra careful with my footing. But even the most careful steps cannot help when the ground is slippery.

My foot went from under me and I put my hand out to break my fall. I heard a snap. I stood up and noticed my right hand was like jelly. I’d broken my wrist. There was no mistake. My immediate thought was a word that sounds like FARK, and how was I going to finish the trek if I couldn’t hold onto my walking pole!!

I quickly rushed back up to the guesthouse and summoned Simone (a nurse) to take a look. She didn’t look happy. I couldn’t believe it. One and a half days to finish and here I was with a broken wrist!!!

David, our tour guide, quickly got onto the satellite phone to Port Moresby and arranged for a helicopter to come in and pick me up. This was around 2:30pm. The clouds roll in early making visibility difficult so he wasn’t taking any chances. It was also the last place on the track itself where a helicopter could land so there was no hesitation to call once he saw what had happened. If it had happened any further along, I would have to have been stretchered to the end as there was no other way out! Talk about an injured digger!

What a trouble maker I was. Everyone was fussing over me and it wasn’t long before my porter Armstrong came over to see for himself. He was just as heartbroken as we had by this stage built a bond and he knew what I was and wasn’t capable of. He had told me early on in the trek that his mother had told him that if he was ever a porter for a lady, that he would have to make doubly sure of helping her through it. He might as well have been attending a funeral the way he looked at me. So sad. The porters see this as an honour and a privilege to help trekkers along the track so it was totally devastating for him too.

Rescue Time

It didn’t take long for the chopper to arrive. I was given some pain killers and Simone wrapped a sling around my arm to hold it in place for the trip. Everyone, including the villagers, came up to the landing to see me off. I was still in shock and couldn’t believe that I was leaving my team behind. How silly I was to have fallen. Why did it have to happen to me. I wanted to finish. All the training I did. All the hours I spent to get fit for this trek. I didn’t want to be rescued off the track and taken to hospital!! It wasn’t fair. Me, me, me. It was all about me!

Don ‘t worry. That didn’t last long. Once up in the chopper and away from everyone, I realised that that was the end of my Kokoda trek.

Not the way I wanted it to happen, but we don’t always get what we want in life and that’s how it is. We make the best of what is dealt our way go with the flow making the very best of every opportunity. Facing the challenges head on and asking “what is great about this?” Just like Kurek Ashley says. This is a whole other post so I won’t go into detail here. Let me finish this story. The adventure is not over yet!

Port Moresby

Once back in Port Moresby, I was whisked off to the hospital. Two words here. TRAVEL INSURANCE! do not leave home without it no matter where you travel to. I was there for hours it seemed. I hadn’t eaten since lunch and by this stage, it was almost dinner time. Not that I was that hungry but the time had passed.

I saw the doctor and she immediately thought I would need surgery. She scribbled a note and told me to go to go and have an x-ray to determine her prognosis. She too was an adventurer and told me about her trekking and scuba diving. A pleasant lady.

The woman who was in charge of taking x-rays took a look at the note and asked if I had written it myself! I said to her, “does it look like I can write?” She said that the doctors note asked for x-rays of my leg - tibia and fibia - just as well I wasn’t going in for an amputation! Imagine!!

So we headed out to the portable in the car park as that is where the ancient x-ray machine was. Once taken, I could see the break and even to the untrained eye, it looked like a bad break. What had I done?

Back into the doctor with the x-rays and she confirmed that I would need surgery. Again, TRAVEL INSURANCE! She took me to the treatment room where I had a couple of shots for the pain and she put a cast on my arm so that I could travel. I had to be airlifted back to Australia as there was no way the travel insurance company would leave me there to have it done and just as well. Looking around that treatment room, their standards were no where near the standards of hospitals back home. I was happy to leave Papua New Guinea.

I spent the night at the hotel and the next morning, a private jet was waiting at the International airport to take me home back to my family. This was My Excellent Kokoda Adventure!

So by this stage of the story, if you haven’t kept up, you can read Part 1 and Part 2 to catch up. For those that have, I think you get the idea of how the trek actually went.

After the first couple of days, we were woken at 5:20am for the rest of the time to prepare ourselves and pack up our things having breakfast to get under way by 6:30am. We would trek anywhere between 3-4 hours up to 9 hours depending on the distance we needed to cover to get to the next campsite.

Now please note that this map is compressed (of course) but let me tell you that when we were climbing, they did feel that steep! You can find the original map here and if you follow this skitch link, you will be able to read the notations a little clearer. These notations mark the spots where we camped so it gives you an idea of where and how far we trekked each day.

There were places where I wished I never looked up as it would look so daunting… climbing through tree roots, up muddy steps, all twisted and tangled that the top was never in sight and just when you thought you had reached the top, you would come around a bend and then see there was more climbing ahead!

My breathing was very laborious going up and by day 4, the balls of my feet were aching. I never got blisters but I did tape up my feet to avoid getting any. I also used some cushioned padding under them to help and it did a little. I kept wondering how I would go for the rest of the trek. Sore feet seemed to be my only complaint which I was thankful for.

Muddy Boots!

Check out how muddy my boots would get each day! And when they did, they would also weigh a ton or that’s what it felt like.

Our respective porters would collect our boots once we had finished dinner, clean them, put them by the fire which they had going all night, so by morning we would have clean dry boots to put on again just to get them all muddied up again.

If we had wet clothes, they would also take them by the fire as nothing would dry otherwise. They couldn’t dry absolutely everything so this meant that the weight in our packs would also increase day by day which wasn’t a good thing. They managed though. I admire those men so much. Some were barefoot and some wore flip flops. Not all of them had boots. My Armstrong did but they were a couple of sizes too small for him so I left him my boots when I finished.

Sleeping Quarters

I mentioned that on the first night I slept in a tent but for the rest of the time, I opted to sleep in the guest houses along with the rest of our team. We were 7 girls and 5 guys and it was quite funny at times.

You can see in this picture that we all had head torches on. No power in these villages so a head torch was definitely the go!

Aside from a couple of the team who opted for the tents each night, the rest of us would set up our beds in one of these guest houses. Girls and guys all in together so you can imagine us trying to get changed and asking for headlights off or turning in the other direction so we could get dressed and undressed.

Another thing was that the showers (if you can call them that as some of them were just a tap rigged up high enough to stand under) were cold all except for one night which cost us five dollars each to have them boil up some water for a HOT shower. I was grateful for this as it had been 4 days since the last hot one!

So have I got you all excited yet… enough that you would like to go too? I’m just having a little fun. Without a sense of humour, you wouldn’t get through this thing. I’ll let you savour this post and leave the rest for the Grand Finale in a couple of days… promise I won’t stay away as long for the next one. I will also reveal why it has taken me this long to update you on how the trek was for me.

Until next post, keep smiling and have an excellent day!

One thing about PNG, every afternoon around 4pm, the low clouds set in and it rains.  Today was no different.  The boys went down to shower under a natural waterfall as they were ready first and then us girls went down to the creek… it was freezing and we couldn’t use soap so we refreshed ourselves and headed back to camp.  This was our first experience of washing in a natural habitat and once back at camp, we warmed ourselves and waited for dinner and sent to bed around 7pm, lol!

No-one slept well being the first night out and we were woken up at 5:30am ready to head off at 7am.  All our packs had to be ready for the porters and off we went as soon as breakfast was over.

Day 2

Day 2 saw us trekking for an arduous 8 hours.  I was generally in a content mood and concentration of where to put my feet was imperative.  My porter, Armstrong, is an angel.  A young man not much taller than me, 24 years of age and very, very strong.

There were times when we were climbing that he would carry my daypack as well as my other pack, and also pull me up those big steps.  I kept thinking… “What on earth was the Creator thinking when she designed this unrelenting terrain and why didn’t she make my legs longer!”

There were many places today where I had to literally climb up with hands as well as feet and places where I had to slide down on my backside.  Also, many trees had fallen over the track which were difficult to get over and having the camera out for these places just wasn’t an option.  I was already the slowest on the team although I did lead the first climb of the day at a pretty steady pace.  After that, I let everyone in front of me.  I was spent and didn’t want the pressure of having them behind me for the rest of the time.

More steep climbs up and down and whenever we get down to a river crossing, there is always a very hard climb up to camp.  We were always happy to get to the end of the day and clean up a little.

Day 3

Day 3 was an even longer day.  About 9 hours.  None of us carried a mirror so no one had any idea what they looked like and probably just as well.  Judging from the photos, I’m glad I couldn’t see myself.

Up and down 45 degree sides of mountains is difficult and especially when there is mud involved.  Did I mention the mud already?  I had no idea how much mud would be on the track.  OMG!! Enough for 100 years or more worth of beauty treatments… it was like walking through slops… squelch, squelch, squelch… I can still hear it.

Another thing… I had no idea we would be walking on the side of a mountain where in some spots, there was no room for wrong footing whatsoever!  A body width and rocks jutting out to step on… not even a path!  Excuse me for saying so but I definitely grew balls that day!  A girl like me trekking in that place… and I have two beautiful young girls at home to think of!  What was I thinking and what was my partner thinking letting me take this on??  This is what went through my head at the end of the day.  If I thought of home I would get emotional and have to quickly distract myself to keep my head straight.  Not being able to call home was also difficult however, I’m glad I wasn’t in touch.  It would only have made me want to go home.  Knowing that my emotional intelligence would be challenged, I could change my mindset so that I would be back on the track and concentrating on the task at hand.

Before we reached camp on this day at Templeton’s 1 campsite, there was a river crossing I couldn’t have imagned at Eora Creek.  Lots of boulders and a zig zag mashup of logs and more boulders that seemed to go on forever.  I had two porters escort me across this one and once over the other side, our guide Dave was waiting so I politely asked him “Was there no other way?” He laughed and took off up the mountain to camp.

Having shared my feelings and parts of the track here is in no way to put you off doing the trek for yourself if you are so inclined.  Rather, it is to demonstrate that it is possible for any of you to do it.  It’s not for an exclusive few and every year, there are more and more trekkers heading to Kokoda to experience it for themselves.  I know there are other equally challenging treks out there.  This is the only one I have taken on so far. The beauty and awesomeness of the landscape is truly worth it along with the experience to grow and face this challenge head on.

More to come……