Kokoda Elite Trail

Kokoda Day 3

Day 3 - Who’s your daddy, punk? Kokoda, that’s who!

Some of you may be thinking what, day 3 already? But it is only Sunday morning! Well you’re both right and wrong. I am afraid this was it folks, the last time we attempted to sleep. We had 29 hours to get to the Kokoda airstrip and we had not even reached the highest point of the Kokoda yet – basically we were behind, due to the weather conditions. The PNG boys were looking tired and sick and both Dion and I were not faring much better.

We started to power on and as the sun rose in the distance we could not be happier. By 10 am we were in a small village located in a valley, waving to a few village children – I am sure they looked at me and thought “why is that guy walking funny?”. Yep, you guessed it- by now my bleeding, blistered chafe was a real hit in hero land! As we commenced our ascent to yet another small village, Dion became extremely pale and we had to stop. I was a little panicky and asked Dion to give me the satellite phone in case he passes out, but he said he was fine. We made it to the top of the hill and it was time to rest. I felt as terrible as Dion looked. The locals gave us some fresh vine tomatoes and potato which we wolfed down at a ridiculous pace, then after another 30 minutes we knew we would have to keep going.

Dion and I reluctantly got up and for the next 6 hours we power hiked until we reached a small village creatively called ‘1900’, it’s name owing to the fact that it is situated some 1900 metres above sea level. During this time I cannot recall what I was thinking and to be honest I think I thought about nothing, it was like I was in autopilot & I just wanted to sit down and rest. The feeling of severe isolation had kicked in, we were all about 50 meters apart and it is too hard to talk while you’re pushing yourself up a tough incline. I felt hopeless, helpless, alone and fragile – it’s not like you can stop in at an IGA and grab a soft drink or ring your buddy on your mobile phone, no, you have but one option, that is to keep hiking.

We arrived at 1900 trembling, the rain so cold that both Dion and I (even while hiking) were freezing. At 1900 we decided to break for at least 2 hours and relax. The boys cooked us some food and we changed in to our last set of semi -dry clothes. It was now the fourth time we had eaten the same meal – pasta, with trout and dried fruit only this time it didn’t go down so well. Dion had felt sick the day before after eating it and today it was my turn. After the first bite I felt like vomiting so I put the bowl down and rolled over. “One mouthful Al, that is not enough” I thought but I just couldn’t stomach anymore. Read more...

Kokoda Day 2

Day 2 – Remember when you thought you were a man?

Well, day 2 kicked off about an hour after day one had ended. It appeared Dion had finally managed to fall asleep on the other side of the so-called hut and I couldn’t help looking over at him with his sleeping bag (which I did not bring) and thinking he looked so warm, although I would later find out he had been freezing as well. The porters were meant to cook us some breakfast – their only job, but they forgot so Dion whipped up some pasta from one of our sponsors. It was organic pasta which tasted amazing and we mixed it with some South American trout (from the same sponsor) and believe it or not, dried fruit. Now I would never eat this mixture by choice but to be fair it tasted amazing and gave us all the nutrients, protein and carbs we needed. Plus I couldn’t believe how good the trout was- Dion and I were freaking out! I wanted to purchase it by the kilo when I returned to Oz and I made him aware of this! We laughed a bit and then boo-ya! Time to get back to the hike.

The start of the hike required a straight vertical and we just didn’t want a bar of it. At 5am and with no sleep, the 6 of us were all looking exhausted and grumpy, my chafe was already starting to rub and slipping had become the new Black. We powered on until 11am at which point we arrived at yet another small creek. Dion decided we could rest for 30 minutes and jumped in the water. I was already freezing and wanted to keep my chafe as dry as possible, so Dion just sat in the water by himself *bless, and I sat down and had a little whinge to myself about how much I hated walking up hills.

30 minutes on Dion’s watch is about half the time of a normal persons watch and as we gathered our gear it was straight back in to marching uphill.  For the next 4 hours we barely spoke except for the odd break in which we bitched about the track, the constant pain in our legs and the rain. The power bars we were eating began to feel a little funny in the stomach and when peering out & into the horizon, all I could see were more mountains to climb- “can’t wait” I thought, “mountains are the best!” By about 1pm we ran into the only flat ground we were to experience until the final 3km’s of the Kokoda trail. The only problem with this was that it was like a swamp, with our legs sinking up to our ankles in filthy, sloppy mud and, after 2 hours of pushing through I almost caught myself asking for another mountain! Yes, I am serious it was hard to move, and when your shoes fill up with dirt, stones and muddy water, you start getting just that little-bit-more agitated.  The boys advised me we had a small river crossing and then we would be breaking at a small village- sweet as bro! (in my kiwi accent) I said, until we reached the river. By now you could probably guess – it was flooded and roaring! The crossing we were supposed to use to get over the other side was gone and it was at this point Dion looked at me, saying solemnly “that is it mate- all over”. Read more...

Kokoda Day 1

Day 1 – Welcome to the HOUSE OF PAIN...
Please leave your skirt at the door!

Well what an ordinary start to the  trip. Arriving at the airport on time only to remember I forgot my beanie (I really wanted to wear a beanie) and then my plane was delayed, which put us in a difficult position. You see, the plan was to arrive in PNG at 1:30pm, at  which point I would meet with Dion so we could both drive to Owens corner in  order to begin the treacherous hike and try to get in a solid 4 hours before  dark. Long story short, I arrived in Port Moresby at 5pm, which meant we would  not start hiking until at least 7pm.

When I stepped outside the airport I automatically entered a defensive mind frame. I was the only Caucasian person in the vicinity and it felt like there were a thousand eyes on me – well, it  didn’t just feel like it, I could see them. This feeling of being alienated  from a crowd gave me my first “real” insight of what it might be like for a colored  person not only in today’s society, but also (and in particular) throughout the  60’s and 70’s. Although I try to keep a very neutral viewpoint of people, I think now more then ever before I can understand the urgency to view all human  beings through a color blind and culturally neutral lens. As Martin Luther King  Jr stated in his “I have a dream” speech, we are “not to judge a man by the color of  his skin, but by the content of his character”.

I think it is easy for one to get sidetracked on occasion and stereotype or prejudge, something I will be consciously aware of in the future.

We arrived at Owens corner just on 7pm  after crossing a few flooded rivers. I met our porters on the way up and they  seemed polite and kind. The plan now was to get moving as soon as we got there,  hike through the night and try to make up for lost time. Once we arrived at our location it was out of the truck, a quick hello to a few of the guys and then  time to get marching. Dion gave me a quick briefing and through the pouring  rain we began our descent. Well... it must have been about 45 seconds before we  all started slipping and sliding. We began to count (apparently that is tradition) but we soon realized that the rain had basically created a mud-slide  all the way down the mountain. I have to be honest, I had no idea what to  expect and after about 10 minutes I thought, “far out, this is going to be one hell of a battle”. Dion advised me to try not to cut myself as the trip would  surely be over if this was to occur and what happens? 5 minutes later good old  Alex slips and slices his finger open– hide that Al and tell Dion about it  tomorrow. Read more...

Kokoda Intro

The calm before the storm

With 24 hours to go before I leave for the Kokoda trail in what I anticipate will be one of the toughest challenges of my life, I have had considerable time to reflect on how I came to be here and what it is I hope to achieve.

My intentions once I arrived back from "Unite for a Change" were always to pursue social justice and to form a group of like-minded partners who shared a similar vision, though I guess I never anticipated finding them as quick as I did. The first day Adam, Spencer, Lamar and I sat down to discuss Seed of Thought, I knew the dynamics were right, and for the first time in a long time my personal belief that we could really change people’s lives was strong.

So how did taking on the Kokoda trail in such a constrained time frame make it to the table? I guess it was partly due to the fact that while I was in the midst of walking from Brisbane to Cairns, Saffron (Bryant) called me, informing me of the doctor’s diagnosis. I promised to assist her in any way I could, and once I found out about Evie and Kim (all three girls have been diagnosed with brain tumors), the trip became a certainty. Read more...