The Heysen Trail 4. The Forty Kilometre Man

 

It is said that you can judge a man by his actions. Well, I became a little concerned about my own sanity when I arrived at Cape Jervis. All the passengers on the bus hopped onto the ferry to Kangaroo Island except me. There was I, alone, a small entity next to a big, open ocean. It was only I who took the turn past the trailhead and disappeared over a hill. ‘Is this really such an extraordinary, unusual, mad thing to do?’

I woke up my three stooges (read the blog ‘Heysen trail two’ if you want to know what it's all about) that morning at 4am to check the time - surely, it had to be time to get going. Way too early, I walked the convenient 300 metres to the central bus station where friendly Sealink staff looked after my huge towering bag - a nickname of my backpack will spring to mind soon. The markets around the corner were open for fruit and veg and I bought some cheap apples and carrots that would hopefully stay fresh in the top of my tower of agony.

It was a beautiful bus ride towards Cape Jervis. At first we hit the terraces in Adelaide with its broad strips of parkland looking pretty in the morning rays. Then suburbia, Lego style, floated by for some time. The hills rolled on and were soon covered with splashes of autumn coloured vines, evidence of our salubrious society - the McLaren Vale wineries begging for further investigation.

I could have sworn that we had arrived in the English country-side when our trip turned into a surreal episode of 'Escape to the Country'. Large, green, grass-covered hills stretched on as far as I could squint into the early sun. An English gentleman with a Wallace of the and Grommet series spoke  inside my head  "These rabbits do 'ave a funny way of hopping about, Grommet”.  
 

The unusual shaped light-house at Cape Jervis

In Cape Jervis I ordered my last barista made, liquid hug at the café, for what would have to be the last one for some time and sat down next to a young man who told me he just walked in from Bridgewater - near Adelaide. He asked me not to sit too close because he hadn't had a shower for a while – always a sign of a fair dinkum hiker. We talked for a while and he told me it had taken him four days to the Cape at a pace of around 40km per day. I was stunned!!! What a pace this young super-human had set! I told him I would be very happy to make it to Victor Harbor in five days, less than half the distance of his walk but in more than double the time. He told me his pack was very light with the downside that he would go hungry at times. "The more you carry the slower you get" he said while ogling my column of torture standing forlorn in the corner of the café. I followed his gaze and thought with happiness as well as trepidation ‘Looks like this snail will have enough to eat’.

"Look out for the slimy, green stuff” was one of his parting pearls of wisdom. I thought it was only polite to nod and grunt in agreement even though I hadn't a clue what 'the green stuff' was. I was about to tell him that I didn't smoke marihuana and was sure that I could fight off whatever spawn Kermit like monsters would throw at me, but thought the better of it.

The 20 something year old marathon-a-day-man was kind enough to take some photos of my fresh features before I finally set foot on the trail.




Raring to go, stick at the ready but unfortunately facing the wrong way

I would like to acknowledge the Ngarrindjeri or traditional owners of the lower Murray river, the care takers of this land I am about to travel through. 

With the last shot of caffeine buzzing in my brain I took on a flat trail along side my old friend the ocean. It only took five minutes to start whooohoooing and I bawled out a courageous "Yeah!" and a "Yeah man!!" 

Waves were lapping gently at the black rocks. The air, carried in from the ocean, left a salty flavour on my lips - or was that sweat already. All that sea, sun, salt and wind culminated in a strong sensation, one sorely missed by a desert dweller like yours truly.

The green hills soon required a bit more effort when a series of calf-burners stopped my random howls of ecstasy.

A seven strong pod of dolphins swam by while I stood high above them on a cliff. These dolphins were magnificent, powerful and much bigger than I remembered. There has always been something liberating about watching dolphins or whales glide past. 'Not bad for my first morning on the trail' I thought.



This is as close as I could get with my camera

In a meadow of sheep and kangaroos I sat down to have my first meal on the track overlooking Kangaroo Island from afar. When you still have fresh provisions, lunch can be a real pleasure. Try minestrone soup with a fresh bread roll and several blobs of melted goats cheese to carve out of the bottom of the bowl. A 'MasterChef' winner any day.
 

Identical double twin Kangaroos in front of the ocean

I was surprised to find that my phone was still barred-up and I had a long conversation with Julie while enjoying the 20 degree winter sun. Only 10km out from where I started, I enjoyed the longest break in the middle of the day lazing about in the green, green grass .
 
‘No 40km for you laddie, not today, not ever!’ said Wallace.

 Grey Bits

Sealink run regular bus services from Adelaide to Cape Jervis every day. Here is their link www.sealink.com.au




The Southern Ocean and, if you look carefully, Kangaroo Island in the distance