Day 3. Fitzroy Camp to Moleside Camp, Great South West Walk, Victoria

Crossing a dry Fitzroy River

Can we just get this post over with as quickly and painlessly as possible? This is the third day of the first tilt at the Great South West Walk and it's a hard one to write up for a number of reasons. Let's have a paragraph to sum it all up.

Leeches. You must be sick of hearing about them in regards to this hike. Well, what can they say, but the area leading out from Fitzroy River was absolutely crawling in them. This resulted in quite fast walking with no regard to taking photos. What could I take photos of anyway? This was the third day in the Cobboboonee Forest and frankly I was a little over it and keen to reach the Glenelg River for a change of landscape. Oh yeah, the weather was the same as all the others so far. No wind, but constant drizzle, with an overcast sky that was overblown white, which made photography a grind. So, here we go, but I'll warn first that there's not a lot to write about, other than one of my shoes exploding which resulted in a bizarre footwear solution.

Fitzroy Camp was a damp, bleak affair deep in the forest. I've no doubt in the warmer months it would have a bit more going for it, but I was keen to move on. Oh yeah, it also had a fearsome man-trap installed. There's a tree stump which is about six inches high right next to the shelter which in the dark I constantly tripped over. Mind you, after the first potential face-plant I'd still trip on it, even when I knew it was there! Anyway, I did have my new favourite blister friends from the previous day to contend with, so I went for a complete mummy approach of extensive taping to keep them under control.

We headed off with pants tucked into our socks as an early warning device for leech spotting. This sort of worked, but not in the fashion stakes. Actually, we distinctly looked like wankers, but hey, this is hiking, not Milan right? That white sky was killing the pictures, so I went for the odd close up when I could stop for long enough without being leech molested.

Do you remember all of that business I wrote in the last post about the traditional 'hiking fiasco photo'? You know, the one with a branch with water droplets on it? Well, this day was no different and with constant drizzle it was always going to happen again. I really need to get some new style of photos!

How about another one?

Ah, the old favourites! Anyway, things were going fine I guess until the official '2012 Shoe Detonation Incident' occurred (I wonder if I can create a Wikipedia page on that?). There I was gingerly strolling along, enjoying the constant rub of pain from the blisters when I felt one of my shoes become loose. I assumed a lace was becoming undone, so I bent down to re-tie it, but lo-and-behold it was already tied up tightly. Huh? Oh yes, what I found was a shoe failure which is rated at about 4.2 on the 'what a balls up' scale.

The Keen Siskiyou shoe I was wearing has a strap system that wraps all around the shoe and is connected to the laces. You tighten the laces and these straps constrict keeping everything snug. That's great until one of those whiz-bang straps breaks for someone unknown reason. The strap at the heel had broken which meant the entire shoe lace system had lost tension. I now effectively had a hiking slipper. In fact if I wanted a slipper I'd rather my ankle ugg boots, as at least they're warm. Here's the rear of the shoe with the broken strap...

What's next to the Keen logo? That's the strap which is meant to go across the back of the shoe...

Once I realised what had happened I considered the problem on my hands. I reckon I uttered "No!!" more times than Tony Abbott (and that's saying something) before continuing on with my loose slipper, but thinking about possible options was clouded a little by the now extra pain a loose shoe was having on my blisters. Meanwhile during all of this saga, the Smuffin had vanished up the track. He was chugging along and so far ahead of me that he decided to build a few things due to boredom. This brings me to the 'stick'.

Yes, he grabbed some token branch and whilst walking whittled it back with a knife until it was silky smooth. It was 'construction on the go' and it became pretty handy for walking. I'm not sure about the staged 'man on the move' photo, but here it is in action and this post is well and truly overdue for an acronym.

Smuffin made a stick. Hurrah! (SMASH)

Man, that's one of my better ones and nothing beats the buzz of a random 'Hurrah!'. Anyway, on we strolled, but you may have wondered where we're standing in the photo above? Well, there's a handful of dirt roads that we crossed during the day and they became our oasis away from the leeches who owned the forest. In fact, we'd plan our stops to have a snack by the roads coming up on the map. Oh yeah, those leeches really were that bad.

Onwards we walked, passing a large waterhole which was full of jet black water. It actually looked like an ink-pot which is a surprising guess, as it does have a name and it's called...

The Inkpot

I've kept this post quite short, as we're close to the end of the day, but I really want to get this entry over with so I can finally reach the Glenelg River. Just outside the Moleside Camp we crossed our first tarmac road since we'd started...

...and then we were at both the camp and the river. Moleside (weird name and I've no idea where it comes from) is a great little spot elevated above the Glenelg River which always seemed to have a mirror calmness about it.

Glenelg River

Now, before I do anything else, I suppose I'll give you the GPS reading for the day. Here it is, if you're interested in that sort of stuff...




Now, there was the big problem. What was I going to do with my shoe situation? That Keen slipper was toast, but I only had a couple of options. Remember at the start of the day I'd wrapped my blisters up with a few acres of tape? Well, somehow that didn't help and the blisters were worse than the morning. This went against everything that I've experienced in walking before and I became convinced that the Keen's were Satan's shoes.

The trouble is, I didn't have the largest range of options as all I had to replace them with were a pair of sandals and another low-cut hiking shoe that were sitting in my car in Portland. The blisters were rubbing to an annoying degree and I could barely walk, so I went for something radical. Maybe the sandals wouldn't rub as much? They could work for a few days until hopefully the feet healed a little bit? With all the leeches around though, I'd have to slip into East European mode and walk with not just the sandals, but socks as well...

So, by utilising Lady Smuffin, she delivered not just dinner, but a pair of Teva sandals and socks. Ah yes, but these weren't normal socks. We'd found our 'pants tucked into socks' method was okay for early leech spotting, but the dark socks made it just that little bit harder to spot them. So, the idea was hatched for an early warning system of beaming white socks. It was a stroke of genius and now we were well and truly ready for the catwalks of Milan...

Now that's what I'm talking about.

We were heading into a whole new dimension of 'hikers looking like wankers' look, but it was the last resort. At least the 'forest walking' was over and now for the next few days we'd be following the Glenelg River. That's what I was looking forward to and really, what more can one say, other than, 'Hurrah?!'

Glenelg River

Day Two. Cut Out Camp to Fitzroy Camp, Great South West Walk, Victoria.

Cobboboonee Forest

I guess I've neglected writing up the definitive fiasco account of the 250 km Great South West Walk, haven't I? There's been a few reasons for that though, and I guess I should outline them in case you've been lying in a coma for the last few months and missed out what's been going on?

Did you see what I've just done? The first three sentences in this post were questions. How good is that? In fact, I did another one then just, to keep you on your toes. The first world problem I've had in writing up this trip, is that it was two hikes in one. Huh? Don't forget I initially set out with Smuffin and after about 90 kms abandoned due to all sorts of reasons with the main one being my feet were stuffed. As a result, I came to the conclusion that having feet in good shape is an important aspect of hiking. Did you know that?

So, the first hike was abandoned, but I was so annoyed I returned one week later and started the whole walk again, sans Smuffin on the early part which we'd done before. He then linked up with me at the half-way point and we finally finished it.

Now, other than a couple of overviews I've only written about one full day of the two hikes. The thing is, if I write up each day there'll be at least 15 entries. Surely only an idiot would write up each individual day, one after the other until it's done, and in the process boring everyone to death with the story of our GSWW? Mm... That's a problem, but I've come up with a solution. What I'm going to do is write up each individual day until the hike is done. How's that for an alternative?

So, on our first attempt we'd walked from Cubbys Camp to Cut Out Camp which was a straightforward day until we were violated by more leeches than I'd ever seen (other than the Federal opposition). Due to the leech drama we were always going to be more attentive to the numerous blood suckers, so for the next couple of days the pictures suffered, in that I hardly took any. This is definitely in your favour though, as it means this entry won't be as biblically long as my previous post.

The second day was a reasonably long affair and the theme at all times was 'forest walking'. Mind you, it's easy walking as the whole place at this stage is flat, so it should be straightforward. Shouldn't it? Well, yes, but there's always a problem with me, even on the easiest days of hiking.

Okay, here we go. We set out strolling through the Cobboboonee Forest with eyes on our ankles at most times as the leeches were well and truly out and about early. In fact, there were millions of them. I'm not joking when I say that at times we'd stop on the track and we'd see dozens moving on the ground around us.

You know what this means? It meant we barely stopped at all and there wasn't going to be a relaxing lunch on the side of the track like the previous day. I was wearing my Keen Siskiyou shoes without gaiters and the attack to the ankles was on from the get-go. I already had the itchiest leech bite known to mankind and wasn't keen on any more, so I was being very diligent, by adopting the early warning system of walking with my chin resting on my chest. Actually, literally stopping for seconds to take a picture would require another 30 seconds to de-leech and I became adept with my knife out at all times to flick them off my legs, such as this one here...

Leech on a knife...

Talk about a frustrating day, but we made do, by making good time walking through the deserted forest, passing the odd car wreck on the way. Car wreck?

The car was beyond repair, but that wasn't the only thing that was damaged. Somehow Smuffin broke his aviators and he now had a great 'sun-monocle'.

Don't forget that the entire area is 'fungi central'. They add some colour to a rather bleak forest and there were lots to keep us entertained.

We reached a part of the forest that had been burned in a controlled fire. It looks a little eerie in the pictures, but I found it quite interesting as this was the first and only time the sun came out for the day and there seemed to be less leeches than anywhere else.

Although the huge trees around us were blackened by fire...

...there were already plenty of signs of regrowth.

Another favourite of mine is the odd puddle of water due to the reflections that they provide. The next photo is a 'staple fiasco shot' which I seem to have from just about every hike I ever do...

We continued on along through this burnt out section...

...and I want you to make note of the size of the path we were on and I'll come back to the reason later...

We strolled on, de-leeching as we went whilst leaving the burned areas behind and entered an area of heathlands. How did I know this? Well, there was a sign of course...

It was around this time that rain hit us a bit heavier than the standard drizzle we'd put up with for most of the day. It just happened to be in a section where the track was very grassy and my hike began to go pear-shaped. Wearing a low cut shoe without a gaiter meant that my feet were getting really wet, and with soaked socks I noticed a bit of rubbing on my heel. I didn't think it was too bad at first, so I continued on...

Wet and grassy...

This was an opportunity for my second 'standard fiasco photo' which is water droplets on tree branches. If it's rained on a hike anywhere, I'll have a picture exactly like this one...

We did have a good spot for lunch and that was at Cobboboonee Camp. With a three sided shelter it was a perfect place to eat away from the rain. I'd show you photo of it, but due to the bleakness of the day all of the pictures are slightly out of focus. Oh well, don't forget I came through the same spot again just over a week later, so I'll show it to you then. All of these shelters have an intentions book and I always find the write-ups entertaining. I mean, check these two out...

I wasn't sure if that bloke in the first comment was taking the piss. 'Red arrow...unreadable...grown into tree'. Now, remember earlier that I wanted you to take a look at the path we were on? I hope you noticed its size. The GSWW really has to be one of the most well marked and signposted hikes I've ever been on. There's triangles everywhere and this bloke is complaining about one that's grown into a tree? I can confidently say that if someone gets lost on this walk, then besides being rescued, they should be assaulted for incompetence as well! Really, some people are never happy.

Oh yeah, it doesn't end there. Check out the bottom line which is also a little bizarre, 'Great to return to forest after the Rd'. Yes, there is a road section before the Cobboboonee Camp, but do you know how long it is? It's exactly 150 metres! Man, these dudes want it all! Please tell me they were on a road somewhere else and not following the actual track notes?!

After a thoroughly mirthful session with the intentions book we continued on with the traditional 'forest walking'...

...before reaching Fitzroy Camp which is buried in the forest and is a pretty bleak affair in winter. My feet were hurting a bit and when I took my shoes off I had a bit of dread and as it turned out, for good reason, as I now had matching blisters on the outside of both feet. Here's what they look like and I'll reduce the image size, as I don't want you to be vomiting from seeing a blister the size of a pumpkin appear on your screen. It's bad enough for me on my 27 inch monitor and it's my foot...

This was the start of the 'Great South West Walk downfall' and initially I was a little perplexed. The shoes I was wearing had been worn a lot before the hike, including a few 20+ km day walks and there was no hint of any blister problems. I can say though, in those previous walks, my feet never got wet from a day of constant rain. This time, my socks were soaked and there lies my shoe dilemma. With wet socks I can assume that's the reason for the rubbing which I've never had with a lined boot? It was about this point that I was dreaming of my 'Milton the Monster' La Sportiva Tibet boots. Anyway, here's the GPS readings from the day's walk...



So, that was the end of the day and there was the realisation I'd have to tape the bejesus out of my feet for the rest of the hike. I guess it was a fairly entertaining stroll with no more leech bites being a bonus. Oh yeah, just because one is finished walking for the day, don't think that the strange sights have finished. There's always Smuffin on hand displaying his 'neo-hiking attire'...

Mt Langi Ghiran, Langi Ghiran State Park, Victoria. Winter 2012

Target for the day. Mount Langi Ghiran looms ahead...

Well, this is quite a speedy post seeing how I only visited the Langi Ghiran State Park last weekend. Usually it takes me weeks to write something up, but I thought I should tackle this entry whilst the pain is still fresh! Mind you, I've decided that this is going to be my biggest post ever. How did I come up with this idea? Well, none really, other than I'm testing the the concentration span of people reading things online. My study is extremely rudimentary (that means none) but it'll interesting to see if anyone can survive a blog post that's more than 1000 words. Don't worry, I'll include photos as well, so you don't have to go running to the oven to put your head in just yet.

Anyway, the start of any post is a great opportunity to crap on and this one's no different (but on a much larger scale). I picked out this walk from the recent book 'Daywalks Around Victoria' quite a while ago, but with time being the enemy it's taken me at least eight months to actually get it done. There's a few things to take into account though (isn't there always?) The walk detailed on signs at the Langi Ghiran State Park visitor area is of a straight up and back approach to the top of the 949 mt Mount Langi Ghiran. Bah! I'm a circuit man myself, so how do I get around that? Well, we turn to the 'Temple of Tempest' as the walk described in his book I've just mentioned is a circuit, but with a little flavour.

Actually, the walk has 'traditional Tempest' written all over it. A casual somnambulant (thanks to The Solitary Walker for that word. He used it the other day and as a result I've elected to knock it off) stroll for a few hours which is interspersed with some off-track anarchy in which there's a struggle to survive for a few hours and then back to a gliding finish, as if you're being carried by a dozen half-naked women whilst wearing a toga and being fed grapes. There were potential problems though, but before I get into them I think I need a picture.

Do you remember my 150th post which exhausted me in creating? Well, it was brought to my attention by hundreds and thousands of my adoring fans (one) that there were a few things missing in the picture. Well, for the 152nd post that's now been fixed.

Fixed

Now, back to the walk and the problems. Do you realise that according to Parks Victoria a large portion of this walk is closed? If you check out that link it says that both Hidden Lagoon Track and Link Track are closed due to 'storm damage'. Mm... After reading that a month or so ago, I actually put the walk off. I'm not sure why I did that, as I've learned one thing and that's a closed walk takes an eternity to reopen. Bloody hell, I've been eyeing off a day hike that's been closed for a minimum of 18 months! In fact, one begins to wonder if a walk closed that long will ever reopen? Actually, I don't really blame Parks Victoria, as they're both cash and staff strapped.

In my Dandenongs walk I came across a closed track and out of interest I emailed Parks Victoria to find out what the actual offence is, of walking on a signposted closed track. Guess what? They never replied, so I've gone for the wild man/irresponsible approach from now on. I'll walk the tracks, but have a contingency plan to turn back if it gets too brutal. The trouble is I've never seen a closed track that isn't easily negotiable on foot. I think the only obstacle that would stop me walking would be an unexpected lava field combined with a random meteorite strike at the same time.

So, parts were closed. What next? Oh yeah, the walking notes indicate that this stroll would take seven hours. Now, I've been a little suspicious of the times since Smuffin and I did the Mt Buller hike from the same book. That day hike was listed at seven hours and it took us twelve. Yes, twelve hours. I had a vision that I'd be stumbling along on my own (yes, this was a solo affair) with the headlamp on in unfamiliar terrain. So, in true 'fiasco style' I decided to give myself an option of staying out overnight. Yes, I was taking a full pack complete with five litres of water (no water up there). If I was getting hard up for time on the short winter day, at least I could pull up stumps somewhere and sleep out. I was officially the most well equipped day hiker in existence. Should I just get to the walk now...?

Okay, I arrived at the Langi Ghiran State Park visitor area in good time to find it deserted. The forecast was pretty good, but since my Mount Difficult drenching I decided to double my dry bags just in case. I was carrying a lot of stuff, but guess what I forgot? I was intending to try out a new pair of boots, but I forgot to bring a thick pair of socks. Feeling a surge of potential 'blister terror' coming on I chickened out and elected to wear my day to day strolling shoes which are a pair of Ahnu Elkridge shoes. These are nice walking shoes and I've put lots of miles on them, but not on hikes. Mm... What could go wrong?

Oh yeah, I also forgot my first aid kit and heaven forbid, the polarizer. What?! I'd brought a neutral density filter instead of the polarizer as the ND one was in the polarizer box. Which tool put it in there? Oh, okay, it was me. So, besides forgetting socks. polarizer and the first aid kit there was the final hiccup. Upon arrival I leapt out the car in a fearsome athletic fashion to be greeted by the sharp crack of the sound barrier being broken by a button which holds my pants up being blown off. It was a pretty scary experience as I almost lost an eye.

FatManButtonPoppers.com

So, I guess the bottom line is that I should lose some more weight? How's this for a story? I visited my long suffering doctor the other day to get results from a blood test for cholesterol. Even a visit like that was a fiasco as he scanned the results and said, "Oh, I forgot to request for a cholesterol check." Huh?! He did throw in, "You're kidneys are fine though!"

As he was writing out another blood test request, he decided to throw in the traditional, "How much do you weigh?" to which I replied, "Stacks". He then pointed to corner of the room and I sighed. With shoulders slumped and head bowed I shuffled to the place no generous sized gent should go and that's onto the scales in the doctors office. With the needle on the scales spinning wildly, it settled around 117 kg. The good doctor then went for the, "Okay, I'll just check on the computer what you should be according to the Body Mass Index (BMI)". The BMI is of course the most absurd formula ever invented, so I started waving my arms around and shouting, "Are you nuts?! It'll say I'm meant to be 90 kgs!" He pondered in front of the computer screen and then quite cheerfully announced. "90? No, you're meant to be 85! So, you have to lose about 30 kgs!" I've been down this road before, as the last time I dipped under 100 kgs was in 1999 and that's because I was lying in hospital. Since then I've become a permanent member of the '100 club' and he's kidding if a man addicted to potatoes is suddenly going to drop 30 kgs.

I've actually been motoring quite well lately as I'm attempting to walk home from work at least once a week. It's quite a commitment to do a 20 km urban stroll after spending a day polishing my trousers in the office. So far my best time has been 3 hrs 21 mins which I think is okay. Ha! I'm flying! Who needs to lose weight?! That was until I was informed by the Goat that his record for the same distance in the suburbs is 2 hrs 40 mins. Huh? I'm not sure where he gains 40 mins, but if we set out together he'd be onto his third custard tart and coffee before I stumbled to the finish. Okay, maybe I do need to lose 30 kgs...?!

Right, the walk. Umm... No, not yet, as there's one more thing. I noticed that there's barely anything written about Mount Langi Ghiran online? I mean, it doesn't even have a Wikipedia page! Egads! In fact, the only thing you're really going to find on Google is the nearby winery with the same name. Oh well, I guess this post might have to be the definitive one to read, plus you get the bonus of reading about my pants exploding.

Okay, I headed off and the start is very casual, but it was quite early on that I noticed something. I cruised around some huge granite boulders which dominate this area...

...and whilst passing this small reservoir...

...I came to the conclusion that my Ahnu shoes, whilst lovely for walking were actually completely crap on wet surfaces. In fact, the first granite rocks I walked across which were damp became quite a tricky affair. The soles seem to have been built with discarded banana peels. I had my arms out horizontal whilst my feet were sliding on any wet surface I stepped on. This was an early concern, as the walking notes state "...don't attempt this walk in wet weather as the rocks and slabs can become very slippery..." It may have been sunny, but being winter meant that the cold nights had left the whole area wet with dew. So, what did I do? Well, I ignored the problem and kept walking. What sort of crap post would this be if I turned around now and went back to the car?

I continued sliding on and then I reached the much larger Langi Ghiran Reservoir...

...which looked quite nice under the blue skies, but where was that polarizer when I needed it..?

It was around this point that I looked at the signs surrounding the area and became slightly scared. Let's have a look at this one for starters...

...but there was a series of others that were really over the top. I could just show you a couple, but for the sake of the world's largest post I'm going to show you the lot. The first one is quite obvious I guess...

...and then there was one that seemed to have been created to warn me about my banana skin soles. I did admire his falling over élan though, which looks more like fun than anything else...

...but hang on, what's going on in the next one?

He's still showing that skilful collapse to the ground, but what's the sign warning me of? Beware of earthquakes? When it came to the last one though I'd given up, as it's either warning me to beware of slight depressions in the ground or don't go bustin' your best disco moves in the area as your waist will split...

I continued on following an old water race with the still wet vegetation giving me the 'shining balls of light' look...

...and the odd reflection in the pools of water lying around.

There was a steady climb up to a spot called the 'Pipeline Lookout'. What's that you ask? Well, there's a pipeline coming out of the ground next to a boulder that has been hacked and smashed into a lookout platform, but guess what? In keeping with the theme of the area, it was closed...

You do know that this platform will never ever reopen again, don't you? Well, I looked at it and as it only appeared to be about my height in total, I decided to brave the climb. All ten steps of it...

I reached the top unscathed and surveyed the area. It then dawned on me that it might have been shut due to the fact it failed in its job description of 'lookout'. Surely it was false advertising?

The view from Pipeline Lookout

Then it was time to descend the heady heights of the lookout, but with a bit of care due to my super slippery shoes...

I made it down alive and with the area covered in huge granite boulders...

...I strolled along a nice wide track.

...before it headed skywards and I shuffled along until reaching a rock cairn which indicated it was time to head bush for the final climb to the summit. I'm not sure what this is, but there was a metal 'thing' lying near the turn-off...

...and possibly the nosiest sulphur-crested cockatoo in history high above in the trees screeching at me. I'm not sure what I was doing wrong, but he wasn't happy...

There's roughly a 500 metre section of off-track walking to the summit, which weaves around the ubiquitous granite boulders...

...of which some were split into segments...

...plus there was plenty of moss attached to them for photographic opportunities.

Although there was no track, the way ahead was pretty clear...

...as I kept to a simple, summit formula which was head for the highest point and don't go near the vertical drops! Actually, I was going pretty slow along here with my banana skin soles which refused to grip to anything that was remotely on an angle. Don't laugh, but I considered taking the shoes off and heading for the top in either socks or bare feet.

The slow going did give me a chance to enjoy the view behind me now, as I'd left the majority of trees behind...

There was a wind farm way down below...

 ...and even a large pool of water in the rocks which was full of 'pond plants'. Actually, I couldn't be bothered looking up what these plants are, so you'll have to do with 'pond plants' as a description.

I reached what seemed like the top and climbed one last noticeable boulder that was higher than anything else and that was that. I can say that the view is pretty spectacular, but I didn't seem to take many photos? I did do a video, but for the life of me it won't upload to Vimeo, so you'll have to make do with...well, not much.

There were two things I noticed though. The first is that I was feeling mildly suicidal for not having the polarizer with me and the other was that it was insanely quiet on top. Truly, 'hear a pin drop' sort of stuff and at first it was quite unnerving, until I started eating my lunch on top of the boulder and the sound of my jaw created a bit of noise.

I guess I spent half an hour on my rock before thinking about moving on. The walk was now heading into the spicy part of the day though, as the off-track section was coming up. The idea was to head over the top of the mountain and down the other side to link up with another track. What made me ponder though, was the notes which said, "...only 300 metres down the West Ridge to the saddle...scrambling involved...awkward route finding...allow at least an hour to descend to the saddle..."

Mm... Okay. An hour to go 300 metres? How hard can it be? Well people, read on and let me enlighten you! The GPS route for this walk is available at the Open Spaces Books website and I had downloaded it. The thing is though I didn't want to be just staring at the GPS trying to replicate the exact route, as I always find things harder that way for some reason. I like to get the idea of direction and then look ahead at the lie of the land to work out the easiest way without constantly staring at a little GPS screen.

Anyway, off I strolled and the way ahead consisted of avoiding a few cliffs here and there and weaving around enormous boulders whilst inching down...

Heading down off Mt Langi Ghiran

Now, things were going fine until the 'Hiking Fiasco' curse began to kick in and it actually goes all the way back to the start of the day when I elected to wear my banana skin soled Ahnu shoes. Firstly, no photos can do justice to the size and slipperiness of the huge granite boulders. I was taking it easy until I reached the top of a long, sloping piece of rock that was wet, but I thought if I could hug the sides I'd be able to shuffle down. I was being cautious to the point that I'd even put my cameras away in fear of potential damage. My brain was ticking over saying, "Be careful here. Whatever you do, don't slip and fall." As a result of this thought I then fell.

In fact I had a cartoon style fall where both feet slipped out (actually a bit like that bloke falling over in the signs earlier) and I landed on my arse and then proceeded to slide down the entire length of the sloping rock with my arms waving in the air as if I was on a roller coaster. Can I inform you now that sliding with your bum on a granite rock is not that comfortable? In fact it was truly a 'brutal buttock bashing' (BBB).

I slid until I reached the bottom and found myself lying on my back wondering if I was still alive. There was a fair bit of pain in roughly 99.7 % of my body, so thought it was best to just lie there and stare at the sky for a few mintues to regroup. You know what though? It was a wise move because as I lay there in total silence an enormous eagle appeared and stopped directly above, no more than 10 metres away. Langi Ghiran does have eagles and I can't say I've ever seen one so close before. He was magnificent, but by the same token I thought to myself, "Does he think I'm dead? Am I possibly the largest piece of food he has ever seen? All 117 kgs of tucker?"

I'd put the cameras away, so I couldn't capture him, but I was also thinking that I should just 'enjoy' the moment without trying to record it. Sometimes it pays to look at stuff instead of trying to validate the experience by taking a photograph. He remained stationary for quite some time before swooping away. I guess he realised I was alive after all? I stood up and began to count the cost. Firstly here's the rock and it really doesn't look that bad does it? Well, actually it is, as I fell from the top in the middle of the rocks where the grass is...

Rock slide.

I had a compact camera in my pocket which was not the wisest place for it to be, but at least I'd put the DSLR in the backpack for maximum protection. As a result the compact had a bit of battle damage...

... but considering my hands were bouncing off granite I was very impressed by such little amount of blood.

Not bad going, only a few cuts and a bit dirty...

I know what you're wondering though. "What about the fiasco man's arse????" Well, fabric and granite don't mix, as my favourite pants were now air-conditioned. From the back.

BustaRippingPantDemolition.com

What can I say? Those bloody slippery Ahnu shoes finally got me in the end and I can say it didn't take me an hour to descend to the saddle. If you're interested in a quicker method, I found falling to be quite an effective way to get down faster. I now continued down with my breezy pants keeping me just that little bit cooler than normal...

Still going down...

...but there were some nice rocks to look at on the way.

Finally I reached a more comfortable, level area, but this side of the mountain was looking a little different. The terrain was now ferns and fallen trees with plenty of moss around on display.

There were also some enormous boulders hidden amongst the trees, I was glad I didn't slide down this particular one, if I did I'd still be going...

I mentioned in my last post how off-track walking is an acquired taste. I seem to spend most of my time on the edge of falling over, as tree roots pull at my legs and it certainly didn't help with a sea of tree ferns, in which I couldn't see where I was putting my feet at all most of the time. I stumbled on and came across the remains of the last off-track hiker who had attempted to walk through here...

He didn't make it.

There's supposedly a rough track marked with tape in places, but I'd be buggered if I could find it. I more or less elected to head south and make my way through ferns which at times were chest high...

... whilst gradually descending the whole time. I've no idea how I didn't fall over again whilst wading through the wet undergrowth.

Remember that business I just mentioned about a taped track? Look! I found it! All one of them!

Umm... It's the tape! That's the best I can do.

Actually, that solitary piece of blue tape on the ground was the only one I saw during the entire off-track section which means I was probably wildly lost. As before, I tried not to become a total slave to the GPS, as I looked for the easiest way down whilst still heading in a sort of southerly direction!

I continued bumbling along until suddenly Lagoon Track appeared and I was back to normality. Well, how much fun was that?! There's a place called 'Hidden Lagoon' which I considered I'd set-up for the night if I was running late in the day. The thing is though I wasn't and with time in hand, I kept moving on until finding the turn-off to the lagoon.

I've seen pictures of Hidden Lagoon filled with water and I thought we'd had plenty of rain around to fill it. I guess not so much in this area though, as it was completely dry...

Hidden Lagoon

What to do? Well, I ended up just changing my mind. I was pretty sore from the fall and my back had a twinge happening. I thought it best to have a bed for the night to get my body back in order instead of being in a tent, so I continued on following some comfortable tracks. Actually, there were some nice views as the tracks continued to descend...

...and even the odd feather on the track.

You know what though? Whilst strolling down Link Track, I must say it has a section which is one of the steepest of formed tracks that I've walked for some time. Again, photos didn't indicate it, but it drops off quickly. In fact an easier way of showing it is the elevation of the walk which I downloaded from the GPS. The section between 10 and 12 kms is what you should be looking at as it absolutely plummets...

In fact, do you know how steep it was? My knees ache on downhill sections and if the terrain is too steep I tend to find the only relief is to walk backwards. I can't say I've done that for a while, but on this track I reverted to reverse as that was the only way I could get down without my knees detonating.

Once that was done I reached the very casual Langi Ghiran Track which was a relief for my legs...

Langi Ghiran Track

There were about four kilometres of walking along this section, but it suited me to finish off in comfort...

A bit more strolling and my car was in sight and I was done. Wow. That was quite a day! Here's the wash-up from my GPS...



Now, what do I make of it all? Well, firstly I didn't see any signs at the tracks that are 'closed' telling me I shouldn't be there. Oh yeah, they might be tricky in a car, but they're a cinch to walk on and in fact I've no idea why the Parks Victoria website says they're shut? No idea, but yet again my 'closed track' theory about accessibility was correct. Again.

Do you remember my carry on at the start of the post about camping out as I might run out of time? Well, I'm not sure what I was thinking as the seven hour walk only took me six and a half. Where's my doctor?! I must be fitter than I thought!!

I guess it was time to head back home and count the cost of the days activities. My duds were dead, but I was lucky to find another pair on sale this week (who pays full price for hiking gear? The stuff just doesn't last) and I'm back in action. I do know I'll never be wearing the Ahnu Elkridge shoes again if there's tricky terrain. They are great to walk in, but sorry, the grip on the soles are absolute crap! In fact, I've mentioned them so often I think it's best to see them at the end of another nightmarish fantastic hike...

The culprits. Ahnu Elkridge shoes.