August 05, 2006

It's a long way to the top if you want a sausage roll...

Last Friday afternoon the Glutes for Punishment and I set off on our first night training walk, a 30-odd-kilometres-of-grunt hike from Thornleigh oval to Berowra station, via Crosslands Gorge, Galston Gorge, and Berowra Waters.

As the repetition of the word "gorge" might suggest, this wasn't the easiest walking in the world, in fact, it was pretty flippin' tough going in places. But compared to the 'Hell Walk' of Brooklyn to Berowra the week before, this one was a walk in the park, because the steep climbs were further apart, though no less steep.



After faffing around for a while trying to find head torches, locking Flick's keys in Bride's car, and falling over backwards at the sheer orangeness of Bride's new trailrunning shoes (they can be seen from space!) we set out at 3.45pm from Thornleigh. We got well into the bush at the back of Hornsby, down towards the charmingly-named Ginger Meggs Park before the sun went down and the head torches came out.

 

As twilight descended, we discovered a new joy of trailwalking - all the new-fangled clothing and equipment modern trailwalkers carry these days is highlighted with reflective material. Reflective material that reflects the light of head torches and camera flashes so brightly that sometimes, reflective material is the only thing you can see!

We came up with a new word, "Trailbling", to describe this new sensation. Trailbling is the shiny stuff you wear when you're trailwalking - makes sense, doesn't it?

Anyway, in the fitness stakes, Rog was way out in the lead this time, often jogging off into the darkness so far that even our brightest headlamp could no longer pick up his trailbling. Whatever training he's been doing, the rest of us want some of that. Preferrably, instantly and without the hard work.

However, this walk's Most Improved Award clearly went to Flick, who has changed from the Breathless In Brooklyn of last walk's long climbs to confidently hitting her stride on all but the last and most difficult climb up to Berowra (which also happens to be the hardest one on the entire 100km Trailwalker course.) Well done, Flick!



In the crucial trailbling category, my own new shoes and new backpack were, to borrow a line from Paul Simon, "shining like a National guitar", but it was Bride who out-trailblinged all -comers with an 'xtreme-trailbling' ensemble featuring trailbling patches on her shoes, her leggings, her sleeves, and her backpack. Why, even her military-grade head torch (on loan from her Army officer sister Zoe) was brighter than all the rest. Bride, you are the Queen of Trailbling.

 

Bride's sister Zoe is also our co-Support Crew Chief (with Nick our Native Guide) and she distinguished herself this walk by leaving the warmth and light of her Eastern Suburbs home to drive all the windy way to the bottom of Galston Gorge in the middle of Friday night with a tray of McDonald's coffees and muffins for the Glutes. To be so far from civilisation yet so close to hot coffee was a huge morale-boost for the team, and piloting that 4WD down the hairpin bends of the gorge road without spilling a drop was an extraordinary achievement. The Army doesn't know how lucky it is - Zoe, you're a trooper in more ways than one!

We came across a fair amount of wildlife on this walk, including countless wallabies crashing through the scrub in the darkness, a big owl, and a very surprised brushtail possum, caught stunned in the middle of the trail for a minute or so by our headlamps (and our trailbling.)

 

The climb out of Berowra creek to Berowra Station was christened for easy reference, but it's not a word that i can write here without your anti-spam filter thinking this is a rude message, so just trust me: it was a mighty ascent, and I was way too breathless for photos, except this one, where I've managed to photograph a huge cloud of my own breath.



Still, we got into Berowra on time, and Nick our native guide, who lives only about another 5km down the road(!) was ultra-super-kind enough to drive us all the way back to our cars at Thornleigh at 11pm, saving us a long, cold wait on the Berowra station platform for the last train back.

As I write this, it's been belting down with rain for several days, and it's forecast to keep belting down tomorrow, which would be fine if we weren't planning to do our longest training walk to-date tomorrow morning - a 45km walk from Berowra to the end of the Trailwalker course at Frenchs Forest.

Only one thing could be worse than having to start walking at 6.30am on a Sunday morning at Berowra, and that would be starting at 6.30am on a Sunday morning from Berowra in the pouring rain. Twelve hours of rain and mud can do terrible things to the lower forequarters... pray for sunshine!