A good day.
[Day 1] [Day 2] [Day 3]
Jan 4, 2015
Day 171
Great Ocean Walk, Day 4
At least the heatwave was history. I even felt a bit of a chill from the morning breeze as I took down my tent. The only other tent in the campground belonged to Leon and Renee. They had yet to emerge when I started walking.
It was the easiest day on the trail. There were no monstrous hills, and no monotonous sections of beach. The temperature remained nice and cool. I spent almost the whole time in the forest, walking with the wallabies. My biggest mental challenge happened when I saw a sign for free beer and hot dogs, and it turned out to be nothing but a sick joke. I felt a bit hungry after that, but not for any of the carbohydrate-laden food I was carrying. I wouldn't be able to eat anything fatty for a few more days.
An ocean-side view.
I arrived at Devil's Kitchen Campground at 2:00 p.m. I was well-hydrated and not nearly as tired as I had been for the previous two days. I probably could have hiked the final sixteen kilometers and reached the Twelve Apostles by dark, but I decided to stay put. I had planned to take five days to do this trek, and I still had plenty of food. In fact, with how little I had been eating, I probably could have rested for a day or two and not gone hungry.
Leon and Renee showed up a few hours later. They clearly had been taking their time, but now there was a problem. As they cooked their supper, they lamented that they were almost out of food. In fact, they planned to snack on a meager portion of nuts for breakfast and stop for lunch in a village, close to the trail. I gave them some spare oatmeal, peanut butter and wraps. They now had plenty of food and I had a lighter backpack, a win-win-win for us.
The three of us tossed Leon's Frisbee in the empty campground. It was a Sunday, the last day of the New Year holiday for many locals. A lot of people might have timed their trek to finish yesterday or today. Still, I had expected the trail to be much busier than it was. Had the heatwave scared off most of the hikers?
Once again, I was in bed before dark. But this time, I felt strong. My appetite was even coming back. I was ready for the final section of the Great Ocean Walk. What a difference a day had made!
Continue to Day 5
The Map Is Not the Territory
A good place for a swim?
[Day 1] [Day 2]
Jan 3, 2015
Day 170
Great Ocean Walk, Day 3
The good news was that I wouldn't have to walk nearly as far as the previous two days – I had already done five of the Great Ocean Walk's eight sections. For my final three days, I only had to walk one section per day. The bad news was that the heatwave showed no sign of abating. I briefly considered staying put for the day, but quickly abandoned the idea. According to the map posted at the campground's shelter, the next section was one of the easiest. I figured I could make it to the next campground by noon, and avoid walking during the hottest part of the day.
I took down my tent and quickly packed my stuff (one advantage of carrying last night's dinner: no dish-washing). Just like the previous morning, I gulped as much water as I could handle, then I loaded my Nalgene and Camelback. Carrying four liters of water would weigh me down, but I figured it would become vital later in the day. The Melbourne hikers were just starting to eat breakfast as I hoisted my backpack onto my back. I said goodbye to them and started walking at about 7:00 a.m. It was already over 30 degrees (86 F); I was sweating before I even left the campground.
Right away, I got a good view of what was in store for me. The trail wrapped around the east side of a hill with few trees, leaving it totally exposed to the early morning sun. The grass was a sickly yellow; the dirt trail felt like concrete under my hiking boots. A couple of wallabies bounded nearby as I walked; their light tan fur blended almost seamlessly with the arid vegetation.
About an hour into my walk, I plopped onto the trail, protected by a rare tree's shadow. I had been walking uphill the whole time, and there was no end in sight. I gulped my water and realized that I might need five or six liters to avoid another episode of severe dehydration. The Melbourne hikers caught up with me while I rested. They said “hi” and continued up the hill, on a mission. When they were out of my view, my mental challenge increased tenfold. As far as I knew, there were no other hikers on this section. If the heat knocked me out, it could be a day before anyone would find me. Given my limited supply of water, would I even last that long?
Finally, about two hours into my walk, I reached the top of the hill. The trail ahead mercifully led into a forest with western exposure. An hour later I was all the way back at the beach, and yet another “Decision Point.” My choice was difficult: the beach route was a bit shorter than the inland trail, and it would probably be breezy. But there would be little shade on the beach, and my boots would sink into the sand with each step. I still chose to walk along the shore, hopeful that I could find a calm pool to swim in.
Just like the previous two days, the tide was abnormally low. Waves crashed violently into the rocky shore and sprayed mist through the air. This did nothing to keep me cool, and I continued to gulp my precious water. Eventually I crossed a trail with access to a gravel road. A handful of people were surfing, and probably loving the high swell. I continued walking. This may have been a surfer's paradise, but I was certain that if I went swimming here, I would quickly be swept out to sea, or dragged under by the ferocious current.
Finally, I found a pool, protected from the open ocean. As a bonus, the seaside cliffs provided me with a bit of precious shade. I went for a swim and immediately felt the cold water's relief. Afterward, I took a long rest. But I knew I couldn't stay here all day – I was down to my last liter of water, and I was constantly craving more. Reluctantly, I continued.
I stumbled into Ryan's Den campground at 1:30 p.m. To my surprise, the Melbourne hikers were still there. They informed me that they had arrived at noon, and they were waiting until the worst heat of the day had passed. However, because they still had an entire section left to walk, they couldn't afford to relax much longer. And the temperature was still north of 40 degrees (104 F).
I was happy to be done for the day. Contrary the map's description, this was the hardest section of the trek, by far. I was desiccated, and worried about heat stroke. As soon as I arrived, I set my backpack down and gulped as much water as my body could handle. Then I lay on a picnic bench in the shelter's shade and fell asleep.
I felt a bit better when I woke, but my appetite was still gone. Instead of attempting to eat my standard lunch of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, I cooked a soup on my camp stove, hopeful that the high sodium content would aid my hydration.
At about 3:00, the Melbourne hikers took off again, looking refreshed and ready to hike another 15 K's. Then, without warning, dark clouds rolled in. Within minutes, it was pouring, and the temperature had dropped ten degrees. On top of that, my sodium injection kicked in, and I felt some of my energy return. I sat under the shelter, listening to the rumble of water all around me, thinking about the Melbourne hikers who were caught in this storm. Would they be happy to walk in the rain?
Just as the rain was dying down, two soaking wet hikers came into the shelter. They introduced themselves as Leon and Renee. Like almost everyone else I had met on the Great Ocean Walk, they were from Melbourne. This was their sixth day on the trail, and they planned to hike for two more. I started to think I was going about this trek all wrong, rushing through it in five days. Especially given today's and yesterday's torrid heat. But there wasn't anything I could do about it now. My final two days promised to be much cooler, and easier.
Now that the rain had stopped, I walked around the campground. It was in an amazing location, overlooking the beach from far above. It wasn't near any roads, so it was almost empty. Unfortunately, I couldn't keep my eyes open long enough to appreciate it. I ate a bit more of my previous dinner and threw out the rest. I was in bed at 8.
Continue to Day 4
AtW Podcast, Episode 3: Martin
Martin and I contemplate the meaning of life.
I hope Martin inspires you with his stories. Let me know what you think.
Click “Download” to download the podcast, or click the play button to listen to it in your browser.
Download this Episode (right-click and choose “save as”)
Here are my photos from Angkor Wat.
Show Notes (External Links):
Hoofer Outing Club
Hoofer Mountaineering Club
Bangkok's Ghost Tower
Black rhinoceros information (4000 left in the wild)
White rhinoceros information (17,000 left in the wild)
Fraser Island, the largest and island in the world
Australian Road trains
The Hottest Day of the Year
[Day 1]
Jan 2, 2015
Day 169
Great Ocean Walk, Day 2
Soon after our break, we walked along a world-class beach with turquoise water, crashing waves, golden sand, blue skies and not person in sight, one of the Great Ocean Walk's hidden gems. Seagulls circled overhead, and a baby seal sunbathed next to a rock. Luckily, the tide was low once again, so at the next Decision Point, we could forgo a steep scramble to the inland path. But beach-walking also proved difficult – our boots sank into the sand with each step, and we couldn't avoid the blazing sun.
Next we approached the Aire River. My map showed it as a wide waterway, impossible to cross near the coast without swimming. But today the “river” was more like an inland lake, with a wide stretch of sand between it and the ocean. Instead of a Decision Point, a sign simply warned us not to attempt the ocean-side route. The rising water would surely trap us, and eventually drag us under. However, given the low tide, we ignored the sign and continued along the shore. Craig even commented that he had never seen the tide so low. Maybe this had something to do with the full moon?
One of the fabulous beaches we encountered that day.
We quickly ran out of sandy beach and were forced to scramble over sharp rocks. Craig ran ahead and soon was out of sight – this was his backyard. I was more tentative in making my way around and over the boulders. The waves were crashing next to me, and occasionally I had to wait for the swell to recede before scampering over long sections. Several times, I barely made it to the top of a waist-high rock when the water came rushing in, putting me on a temporary island. As soon as the water went back down, I ran for the next ghoul before the land flooded again. This was exhausting, and I was constantly drenched with sweat and gulping from my limited supply of drinking water. Given the extremely low tide, the difficulty of the terrain and the sign warning us not to attempt exactly what we were doing, we may have been the first people to take this section of “beach” in years.
Eventually we reconnected with the actual trail and walked the final few kilometers to Castle Cove Lookout. It was noon and the temperature had reached 41 degrees (106 F). I collapsed under a tree and finished my last few sips of water. I knew I was dehydrated and now I shook my head – my four liters of water had barely lasted half the day. Craig was faring much better than me – the extreme heat seemed to have no effect on him whatsoever. Still, even he didn't have much water left in his bottle. And the next water station was eight kilometers away, an infinite distance when you're parched. What was I going to do?
Luckily, this was the point where the Great Ocean Road was tangent to the Great Ocean Walk. Every few minutes, a car would pull up and their occupants would get out to take in the view and complain about the heat. It was also the point where Craig's walk ended (he had to work the next day). While I sat under a shady tree, recovering, Craig sweet-talked his way into a ride back to his van, and he scored me a bottle of water in the process. It was our own fault that we didn't have enough to drink – it was noon on Day Two, and we had already hiked half of the eight-day trail. The upside of this quick pace was that I could take it easy for the next few days.
I said goodbye to Craig; we planned to meet up after the trek for more shenanigans. As soon as he was gone, I fell asleep under the tree. The guy who had given me the water returned a few hours later with two more bottles. I was reinvigorated and grateful for his help. At about 4:00, the temperature finally began to drop and I decided to continue.
The precipitous cliffs made it impossible to walk along the shore, even in this freakishly low tide. I tramped, alone, through the forest for the next few hours, trying to keep my mind occupied. As is common after taking a long break, time droned on. I didn't even see any wildlife; the animals were probably doing the smart thing, waiting out the heat wave.
Finally, I stumbled into the Johanna Beach Campground about an hour before dark. At last, I had access to all of the water I could possibly drink, and I spent the rest of the day re-hydrating. Unfortunately, the next day was forecast to be even hotter than this one.
Four hikers from Melbourne were in the campsite's shelter, cooking dinner. For two of them, this was their first ever multi-day walk. Later, a father/daughter pair from Oklahoma joined us. The father was a charter airplane pilot who had flown scientists to all sorts of exotic destinations, including the South Pole. Unfortunately, my brain was so fried, it couldn't soak in his stories. At one point, one of the girls from Melbourne commented about how beautiful the snowy mountains in the background of my “Hoofer Outing Club” shirt looked. “Nope,” I said. “That's just salt from my dried sweat.”
Continue to Day 3
AtW Podcast, Episode 2: Chris Jackson
Chris shows me the map of his route.
Click “Download” to download the podcast, or click the play button to listen to it in your browser.
Download this Episode (right-click and choose “save as”)
I'm always looking for new guests on this show. If you or someone you know is interested, send me a message from my contact page.
Here are links to some of the places we discussed in the interview:
The Duke of Edinburgh Award in the USA
Uluru (Ayers Rock)
Ulutu-Kata Tjuta National Park
The Bibbulmun Track
Kakadu National Park
Chris traveled with this guitar.
Chris' carved baobab nut.
Finally, Texas (27 million people) indeed does have a larger population than Australia (23 million). The state of Western Australia is about 2.65 million square KM and has a population of 2.5 million. Texas is 696,241 square KM.
Beginning the Great Ocean Walk
Silly Australian customs.
Jan 1, 2015
Day 168
Great Ocean Walk, Day 1
On the first day of 2015, the three of us drove along the Great Ocean Road to the small town of Apollo Bay. I picked up a trail map at the visitor's center (the official start of the trek) and we organized our food. Mandy had to work the next day, and Craig had to work the day after that, so I would be on my own for the majority of this walk. I packed five days' food for myself, figuring that I could complete the trail quicker than the suggested eight days.
We left Craig and Mandy's vehicles behind, walked across town and passed through a large campground. Many people were relaxing in lounge chairs and hammocks, sleeping off their New Year's hangovers. We found the trail at the far end of the campground and headed to the coast. From that point, we would only see a handful of people all day.
Craig points out the path ahead.
The low tide exposed the rocky shore. We scampered along, Mandy with her lunch and water bottle stuffed into a book bag, Craig with his overloaded day pack and me with my full backpack. The frame had broken during my flight to Australia, and I was still holding out for a replacement. My temporary solution was to remove the frame entirely, causing my backpack to sway with each step.
Soon we reached our first “decision point,” where we had to choose to either continue along the beach, or take an inland trail. The beach route was shorter and devoid of hills, but if we encountered sand, walking would become difficult. At high tide, there would be no decision – the waves would crash against the shore's tall cliffs, making it impossible to walk on the beach. Lucky for us, the tide was low, so we didn't hesitate to stay on the shore.
Eventually we reached a point where the ocean's swell came right up to the cliffs, even at low tide. We headed inland and stopped for lunch at a fork in the path. After the three of us had eaten our tuna, tomato and cucumber sandwiches, Craig and I said goodbye to Mandy. She followed a trail to a gravel road, from where she would attempt to hitch a ride back to her car at Apollo Bay.
A koala in a eucalyptus tree.
Craig and I continued inland, and soon we entered a thick forest of tall eucalyptus trees. The trail was flat and wide, so we walked side-by-side. Suddenly, Craig yanked my shirt. I stopped and saw what had alerted his attention: a brown snake, the second-most venomous terrestrial snake in the world. It was sunbathing on the path, a few paces in front of me. I never would have seen it without Craig's keen eye. I shuddered at the thought of what could have happened if I had stepped on it. Meanwhile, Craig crouched and admired the snake. Finally, it slithered away from the trail and we were able to continue. From that point forward, every twig looked like a brown snake, ready to attack.
There was also plenty of non-venomous wildlife to admire. Koalas were clinging to many of the eucalyptus trees, munching leaves and taking naps. Wallabies (smaller cousins of the kangaroo) stood next to the track and hopped away when we got too close. Cockatoos and scarlet-chested parrots sang from the trees. We hadn't seen any animals in the open expanse of the beach, but now that we were in the forest, there was wildlife lurking around every corner.
We continued walking until dusk and set up camp near Cape Ottaway, thirty kilometers into our walk. This was our second straight long day of hiking, so I was exhausted. But we had only begun this trek, and the trail was about to get more challenging: the next day was forecast to hit at least 40 degrees (104 F).
Photos from our walk near Lorne
Photos from the Great Ocean Walk
Continue to Day 2
External Websites:
Info on the Great Ocean Walk
The eastern brown snake
Around the World Podcast, Episode 1: Craig Martin
Craig and Dan at The Pinnacle, in Grampians National Park, Australia.
Click “Download” to download the podcast, or click the play button to listen to it in your browser.
Download this Episode (right-click and choose “save as”)
My very first guest on this podcast is a special one. Craig Martin is from Australia, and we have known each other since 2005, when we met in Ushuaia, Argentina. Not only did we travel to Antarctica together, but we spent six months traveling around South America.
Craig has a unique life goal: to travel for three years on each continent. He's done well so far, having spent three years (or more) traveling in Australia, Asia, South America and Europe. He'll begin his three-year trip to North America this fall.
During my recent trip to Australia, I got a chance to catch up with Craig on his family's farm. We had a nice discussion about his past and future travels. I hope you enjoy it.
And remember, I'm always looking for new guests on this show. If you or someone you know is interested, send me a message from my contact page.
Here are links to a couple of places I mentioned in the interview:
Marajó Island, the largest fluvial island in the world.
The Bolivian Altiplano, a plateau with an average elevation of 3,750 meters (12,300 feet).
Grampians National Park
Me, Craig and Cain in the Grampians.
Dec. 28 - 30, 2014
Days 164 – 166
Eventually I reached Cain's place and picked her up. She helped me navigate through Melbourne's crowded streets, and I only pulled onto the wrong side of the road once. Soon, we were outside of the city and driving through the countryside. It was the classic Australian road trip.
We stopped for a kabob dinner in Ballarat (pop. 20,000), the last “big city” until Adelaide, 400 miles away. Continuing on our journey, the freeway narrowed to a two-lane highway. We were just a couple of hours from Melbourne and it already felt like the middle of nowhere. And we still were nowhere near the Outback.
When we got to the park, Cain and I went for a hike to the top of Mount Rosea. It was a brisk walk, and the view from the top was amazing. It was so windy, it felt like I was surfing. We didn't see anyone else, although the torrential downpour that hit us during our walk back to the van might have had something to do with that.
Well hello there!
We drove to the visitor's center to dry off, and we bumped into Craig's tour group. The skies cleared in the afternoon, so we followed the others along the park's winding roads to several more lookout points and McKenzie Falls. At the end of the day, we saw a kookaburra, with a call that sounds like it's laughing at you. Finally, we went to a park where the local kangaroos congregate. They were fairly used to humans, and most were happy to lie in the sun. A large group of tourists surrounded them, occasionally spooking one of them into hopping for its life.
The following day we checked out The Pinnacle, the most famous lookout point with wide views of the Grampians. The hike back to the van took us through canyons that showed off the natural beauty of the park. It was quite the gob-stopping place, as the Aussie's say.
While Craig continued with his tour, Cain and I drove back to Melbourne. I took a long nap, said goodbye to Cain and met up with Craig once again after his tour had ended. He wanted to start a new adventure the next day, so he drove us to his hometown of Geelong to stock up on food. It was really strange to walk through a supermarket with a guy like Craig. He's at home chasing snakes in the Outback or paddling a canoe down the Amazon, but he seems out-of-place buying potatoes and carrots in a suburban megastore, even more so in a shopping mall. Nevertheless, by the end of the night we had a week's worth of food and we were camping in yet another park, ready for the next adventure.
Catching Cricket Fever
Dec. 27, 2014
Days 163
It was a warm and sunny day, and we had front row seats. We arrived a couple of hours after play had started, but the game lasts seven or eight hours per day (and the match takes 20 days), so there was really no rush. Craig explained the basic rules, and I was surprised at how quickly I picked up on them.
It's amazing how long these guys need to maintain their concentration. Harris and Smith were batting together for the first several hours, then Harris finally went out. I found out that Smith had been batting for seven hours, and he accumulated 192 runs before finally losing his wicket. All it takes is one bad swing, and you're gone.
Like baseball, cricket is a game in which fans can relax and have a conversation with their friends while taking in the action. And play stops every few hours for a lunch break or tea time. There are an impressive number of statistics to keep track of, so this game has a lot of appeal to me. I don't expect cricket to overtake baseball in popularity in the United States, but it was really fun to watch such an important match. By the time we left the stadium, Australia had scored over 500 runs in the first inning, which would prove to be an insurmountable sum.
Here are some videos we shot during the game:
An Antarctic Reunion
Dec. 20 - 22, 2014
Days 156 - 158
Me and Craig on Australia's Surf Coast.
Craig and I met in Ushuaia, Argentina in January 2006.That same day, our mutual friend John got us a phenomenal deal on a cruise to Antarctica, which I chronicled in my book, 1000 Days Between. We shared a cabin on the ship, and a friendship was born. We met up again a few months later and traveled through the Amazon for six months, by far my longest travel partnership.
Craig and I hadn't seen each other in nearly eight years, so we had a lot of catching up to do. Luckily, there would be plenty of time for that – he was taking me for a drive along the Great Ocean Road, one of the highlights of southern Australia. We drove out of Melbourne and past Geelong, and soon we were on the southern coast. The high sandstone cliffs and plentiful surf made it immediately obvious why this was such a popular place for nature-lovers and thrill-seekers alike.
As we drove, Craig told me about his most recent adventure, a three-and-a-half year trip to eighty countries in the Middle East, Europe and Asia. Somehow he had managed to visit several Middle Eastern countries before they erupted with violence in 2011 and 2012. Even more impressive was the two years he spent pedaling his bicycle over 80,000 kilometers to every country in Europe. He returned to Australia eight months ago, yet incredibly, he told me that he would soon take off yet again, this time to travel around the Caribbean islands for around six months, followed by three years in the US and Canada. Craig's ambitions had not let up a bit since I last had seen him.
An echidna.
Continuing on the Great Ocean Road, we headed through the Memorial Arch, where there was a monument dedicated to local miners. Next we stopped at Kennett River and watched some koalas sleeping in eucalyptus trees, white and yellow cockatoos and other birds, some of which apparently were terrifying. An echidna, the oldest mammal in the world, happened to be digging for ants at the park. The monotreme (egg-laying mammal) is extremely shy, so I was lucky to get to see one so close. Craig got an even closer look by picking it up. Don't worry, it got its revenge by peeing on him.
We also stopped at a few nice beaches and a section of temperate rain forest with some of the tallest ferns and trees in the world. The highlight of the day was the 12 Apostles, a set of rock formations created by persistent ocean swells over many thousands of years. One of the rocky spires recently fell, and at least one more is being formed, so it was cool to witness this ever-changing landscape.
Our last stop of the day was at Loch Ard Gorge. It was named after a ship called the Loch Ard, which sank nearby in 1878. A fifteen-year-old boy named Tom Pearce was washed ashore, and he managed to rescue seventeen-year-old Eva Carmichael. None of the other fifty-two passengers survived. Despite its grim history, this was a beautiful place, worthy of a long swim and a friendship reunion.
The next day was the summer solstice. The fact that it was the longest day of the year was actually a bad thing: the day's highlight wouldn't come until dusk. In the afternoon, I met up with Craig once again in central Melbourne and we drove to Phillip Island, south-east of Port Phillip. We stopped by Swan Lake, which, true to its name, was populated with swans. There were also a few kangaroos and lots of windswept trees that created some interesting patterns.
Late in the day we stopped along the coast to watch the resplendent seagulls circling overhead in search of a meal, and the majestic tourists, who circled the seagulls in search of a resplendent photo. The waves crashed against the rocky shore below us and the fur seals bathed on the monadnock further away.
A lookout point along the Great Ocean Road.
At last we headed up the road to watch the famous Penguin Parade. Each night at dusk, a colony of Little Blue penguins (that's their actual species name) emerges from the shore to spend the night nesting. The attraction has become so popular, the enterprising local government has built a visitor's center dedicated to the Penguin Parade, and a grandstand for viewing it. Unfortunately, it has also become so popular that they had to ban photography because the flashes were sending the penguins running. Over a thousand people looked on as the first few brave penguins waddled ashore, then made a run for the cover of bushes. Their brethren soon followed. Half an hour later, hundreds of penguins had made it ashore and the tourists made a mad dash for the exits. I didn't get any photos*, but the event was good for a laugh. There's something about the way penguins waddle that makes them ridiculously entertaining.
* Craig later found a dead penguin that had washed ashore, so I did end up getting a few pictures.
I had already seen a lot of Australia's southeastern coast during my first few days in the country. Luckily, Craig had some big plans in store for us in the following weeks.
More Great Ocean Road photos
More Phillip Island photos
Photos from a day walk at Point Addis