9th October to 19th October 2017 - Group 74: ‘The Kokoda Turtle Trek’ by Shane Chisholm
“Sometimes even before you set foot on the track, you just know you are in for a cracking time and this one was to be no exception”!
The start was ominous with my plane flight from Melbourne to PNG cancelled by the airline even though I had checked my bags & held a ticket in my hand. Engineering problems was the word and whilst I’m glad that these issues are found whilst we are on the ground, I’m pretty certain I saw our allocated plane doing a ‘fly over’ whilst watching Bathurst from the comfort of the Mantra Hotel Tullamarine!!
Despite that uncertain start, I was away early on the following day, winging my way to Port Moresby via Brisbane with a fellow guide and two of my trekkers…..all was looking up as I enjoyed some inflight movies and hydrated in preparation for the upcoming Kokoda adventure.
Upon arrival at Port Moresby, I was informed that the remaining contingent of my group were ‘stuck’ in Cairns courtesy of another airline also experiencing ‘engineering’ issues….there was a chance for a special flight being made later in the evening but no promises I was told!! Bloody hell….another cursed trek I thought to myself!
Luckily the stars aligned and my remaining trekkers arrived late in the evening….not a great preparation but non the less all well but tired from sitting in the airport lounge, airport bar, the air bridge and then the plane itself…..lucky they kept hydrated!
All accounted for, we were up early for brekky and to make our way to Jackson’s for the flight to Girua (Popondetta) scheduled at 7am – the start of our Kokoda experience. Upon arrival at Jackson’s, the ticketing system had crashed therefore it took quite a while for these to be issued. None the less, all was ok as the aircraft was being held until this could be sorted which eventually happened. Everyone in my party was issued with the tickets commenced the walk to the aircraft when one trekker (no names but it was Old Will) couldn’t find his ticket! He was the last trekker as everyone else had commenced boarding the aircraft and I could see he was starting to panic……no ticket….no ride!!
After checking his pockets 6 times, it was on the 7th occasion that the magical ticket was found, much to the relief of all!
The 35 minute flight north across the Owen Stanley Ranges was uneventful except for Gaz copping the wrath of the hostess as he switched seats from an aisle to a window whilst the fasten seatbelt sign was still on!! Gaz was made to give up his newly acquired window seat and return to the old one….example made….hostess 1….Gazz Nil.
Touchdown at Girua and we all scrambled to collect our gear, the heat of the Northern Coast hitting everyone and once we had accounted for all of our gear, we checked out the B-25 Mitchell bomber and then started our journey towards Kokoda. A quick stop at the Popondetta Supermarket for some snacks and toilet break then off like a rocket, along the bumpy, dusty road to Kokoda.
Speaking of dust and as a gesture of good will, I had earlier forewarned two of my trekkers (again no names but it was the same man who lost his ticket earlier & also his mate Brian) about sitting towards the front of the truck to avoid as much dust as possible for this part of the journey. I must have said this with either with a smile on my face or I just look untrustworthy as they we very unsure if I was trying to take the mickey out of them! It wasn’t until two of my porter team sitting down the back of the truck (our amazing Master Chef Paul Joe and our Local Leader Robert Bamave) turned white that they knew I had their best interests in hand!
After a very bumpy & dusty 3 hours of riding through the jungle, we gratefully arrived at Kokoda Station, dusted off our kit and walked down to the memorials to look at the battlefield and talk about the significance of this place.
The prior Intel from various sources was that the track was really dry….not much rain but as I said to my trekkers, I can be a s@*t magnet so I’m tipping heaps of rain!! With these words ringing in their ears and the rules of the ‘Kokoda Turtle’ conveyed by Gaz, we set off for our first nights objective – Deniki, some 3 hours away.
The ‘Kokoda Turtle’ was the brain child of Gaz, our trek focal point and mastermind….its concept was simple…..you fall whilst on the track, you receive the ‘Turtle’ to wear together with its shame until someone else falls. In the event of someone taking a spill and usually after a couple of seconds to ensure they weren’t really hurt, the group would erupt into much howling & laughter…at the expense of whoever took the spill. If it happened to be one of the PNG boys like Daxie (who was Gazz’s personal porter), then the whole group would hoot, howl and whistle even more loudly. As was custom at any significant break in trekking, a special ceremony would take place to recognise the recipients of the ‘Kokoda Turtle’ and depending if it was a trekker or a porter who was custodian, two different songs would take place. ‘For he’s a jolly good fellow…..for he’s a jolly good fellow’ or the local ‘Kokoda Boatee’…..the ending of both song’s being something this writer does not want to commit to print!
As we walked towards Deniki, my prophecy came true and the heaven’s opened up….rain….rain and more rain!! Several trekkers making comment that I truly am a s@*t magnet! We all arrived at Deniki and settled into one of the huts….looking forward to a good night’s sleep after an awesome meal and a cuppa tea. Normally the sound of rain on the roof sends me to sleep pretty however never before have I experienced a group of trekkers who snore in unison, one (no names but it was Brian) even holding his breath long enough for me to have my hands on the defib, ready to plug him in and shock him back to the world! Not much sleep that night and consequently, I made poor Jombie set up my tent for the remainder of the trek to try and escape this multiple quartet of slumber singers!!
Early rise on Day 2 with a lovely breakfast and heavy overnight rain making this section of the track very slippery and the sound of a landslide somewhere ahead of us making everyone apprehensive but knowing we have a crack crew of porters to look after us….were feeling safe but aware it’s a good day for the ‘Kokoda Turtle’ to exchange hands multiple times!!
We made our way to the Isurava battlefield and held a memorial service with Gaz, Andrew and old Will reading poems which brought on the tears…..very emotional time in the rain and one I don’t think those in attendance will forget easily. After some lunch, we pushed on towards our evening objective Alola, stopping at Cons Rock and safely negotiating the landslides, all tired and sore but in good spirits.
“Sometimes even before you set foot on the track, you just know you are in for a cracking time and this one was to be no exception”!
The start was ominous with my plane flight from Melbourne to PNG cancelled by the airline even though I had checked my bags & held a ticket in my hand. Engineering problems was the word and whilst I’m glad that these issues are found whilst we are on the ground, I’m pretty certain I saw our allocated plane doing a ‘fly over’ whilst watching Bathurst from the comfort of the Mantra Hotel Tullamarine!!
Despite that uncertain start, I was away early on the following day, winging my way to Port Moresby via Brisbane with a fellow guide and two of my trekkers…..all was looking up as I enjoyed some inflight movies and hydrated in preparation for the upcoming Kokoda adventure.
Upon arrival at Port Moresby, I was informed that the remaining contingent of my group were ‘stuck’ in Cairns courtesy of another airline also experiencing ‘engineering’ issues….there was a chance for a special flight being made later in the evening but no promises I was told!! Bloody hell….another cursed trek I thought to myself!
Luckily the stars aligned and my remaining trekkers arrived late in the evening….not a great preparation but non the less all well but tired from sitting in the airport lounge, airport bar, the air bridge and then the plane itself…..lucky they kept hydrated!
All accounted for, we were up early for brekky and to make our way to Jackson’s for the flight to Girua (Popondetta) scheduled at 7am – the start of our Kokoda experience. Upon arrival at Jackson’s, the ticketing system had crashed therefore it took quite a while for these to be issued. None the less, all was ok as the aircraft was being held until this could be sorted which eventually happened. Everyone in my party was issued with the tickets commenced the walk to the aircraft when one trekker (no names but it was Old Will) couldn’t find his ticket! He was the last trekker as everyone else had commenced boarding the aircraft and I could see he was starting to panic……no ticket….no ride!!
After checking his pockets 6 times, it was on the 7th occasion that the magical ticket was found, much to the relief of all!
The 35 minute flight north across the Owen Stanley Ranges was uneventful except for Gaz copping the wrath of the hostess as he switched seats from an aisle to a window whilst the fasten seatbelt sign was still on!! Gaz was made to give up his newly acquired window seat and return to the old one….example made….hostess 1….Gazz Nil.
Touchdown at Girua and we all scrambled to collect our gear, the heat of the Northern Coast hitting everyone and once we had accounted for all of our gear, we checked out the B-25 Mitchell bomber and then started our journey towards Kokoda. A quick stop at the Popondetta Supermarket for some snacks and toilet break then off like a rocket, along the bumpy, dusty road to Kokoda.
Speaking of dust and as a gesture of good will, I had earlier forewarned two of my trekkers (again no names but it was the same man who lost his ticket earlier & also his mate Brian) about sitting towards the front of the truck to avoid as much dust as possible for this part of the journey. I must have said this with either with a smile on my face or I just look untrustworthy as they we very unsure if I was trying to take the mickey out of them! It wasn’t until two of my porter team sitting down the back of the truck (our amazing Master Chef Paul Joe and our Local Leader Robert Bamave) turned white that they knew I had their best interests in hand!
After a very bumpy & dusty 3 hours of riding through the jungle, we gratefully arrived at Kokoda Station, dusted off our kit and walked down to the memorials to look at the battlefield and talk about the significance of this place.
The prior Intel from various sources was that the track was really dry….not much rain but as I said to my trekkers, I can be a s@*t magnet so I’m tipping heaps of rain!! With these words ringing in their ears and the rules of the ‘Kokoda Turtle’ conveyed by Gaz, we set off for our first nights objective – Deniki, some 3 hours away.
The ‘Kokoda Turtle’ was the brain child of Gaz, our trek focal point and mastermind….its concept was simple…..you fall whilst on the track, you receive the ‘Turtle’ to wear together with its shame until someone else falls. In the event of someone taking a spill and usually after a couple of seconds to ensure they weren’t really hurt, the group would erupt into much howling & laughter…at the expense of whoever took the spill. If it happened to be one of the PNG boys like Daxie (who was Gazz’s personal porter), then the whole group would hoot, howl and whistle even more loudly. As was custom at any significant break in trekking, a special ceremony would take place to recognise the recipients of the ‘Kokoda Turtle’ and depending if it was a trekker or a porter who was custodian, two different songs would take place. ‘For he’s a jolly good fellow…..for he’s a jolly good fellow’ or the local ‘Kokoda Boatee’…..the ending of both song’s being something this writer does not want to commit to print!
As we walked towards Deniki, my prophecy came true and the heaven’s opened up….rain….rain and more rain!! Several trekkers making comment that I truly am a s@*t magnet! We all arrived at Deniki and settled into one of the huts….looking forward to a good night’s sleep after an awesome meal and a cuppa tea. Normally the sound of rain on the roof sends me to sleep pretty however never before have I experienced a group of trekkers who snore in unison, one (no names but it was Brian) even holding his breath long enough for me to have my hands on the defib, ready to plug him in and shock him back to the world! Not much sleep that night and consequently, I made poor Jombie set up my tent for the remainder of the trek to try and escape this multiple quartet of slumber singers!!
Early rise on Day 2 with a lovely breakfast and heavy overnight rain making this section of the track very slippery and the sound of a landslide somewhere ahead of us making everyone apprehensive but knowing we have a crack crew of porters to look after us….were feeling safe but aware it’s a good day for the ‘Kokoda Turtle’ to exchange hands multiple times!!
We made our way to the Isurava battlefield and held a memorial service with Gaz, Andrew and old Will reading poems which brought on the tears…..very emotional time in the rain and one I don’t think those in attendance will forget easily. After some lunch, we pushed on towards our evening objective Alola, stopping at Cons Rock and safely negotiating the landslides, all tired and sore but in good spirits.
Heavy overnight rain at Alola however having learnt my lesson from the previous night, I slept reasonably well in the tent although I could still hear the snoring above the rain! We rose earlier than normal to get a head start on the day and knowing the descent out of Alola down to La-La Creek will be slippery, I wanted our group to take their time and negotiate this safely (which we did!). Upon crossing La-La Creek and starting the steep ascent up the other side, all was going well until Brian decided to try some ‘parkour’ and took a big spill back down the hill, badly gashing his shin in the process. After dressing his wounds and ensuring he was alright an urgent message was sent ahead to the bulk of the group…..’Brian is now the custodian of the ‘Kokoda Turtle’.
We reached Eora Creek for morning tea and then had lunch at Templeton’s Crossing and had a little swim in the frigid waters to sooth some sore feet & knees. I slipped and fell into the creek however under the Kokoda Turtle rules (section 13a…paragraph 2) specifically says that a fall has to be on the track!! Saved by bureaucracy….The last two hours to Dump 1 was taxing, the track being a quagmire of mud and the heavy rain continuing to pour down. We reached our camp site overlooking Eora Creek and it was here that one of the porters was unfortunate enough to take a tumble whilst in camp (pretty sure it was Tom Houlo) much to the delight of everyone with howls & laughter continuing for some time thereafter! The previous bureaucratic rules that saved me from the Kokoda Turtle clearly didn’t extend to Tom!!
After another great feed served up by our Master Chef Paul, we retired early for the night, listening to the heavy rain fall and prepping ourselves for tomorrow’s race…..The Kagi Handicap.
Day 4 broke with a reasonably clear sky and we broke camp and were away by 6.15am, Brian’s leg still blood stained however his progress steady & methodical. It was a tough 1 hour climb out of the creek and up to the peak of the range at around 2190m. We arrived at 1900 for smoko and with the sun shining and a cuppa tea in hand, I decided to test Keito’s accuracy with his slingshot for all of the group to see. All I needed was a volunteer to allow Keito to shoot a banana from someone’s rear end and truth behold, I can’t believe Gaz eagerly stepped forward! Well, we searched for a banana however when one couldn’t be produced, Gaz insisted on using a water bottle. Strides down and with an equally baffled but amused crowd of porters & trekkers gathering to witness this event, Keito took aim with his powerful slingshot and bang, hit the water bottle from a distance of 15 meters with enough force to make Gaz’s rear end quiver! Gaz didn’t know how lucky he was as Keito wanted me to shoot the bottle from Gaz’s butt and if I accepted, I’m pretty confident that the result would have been different!
After such frivolity and much disinfecting of Gaz’s water bottle (or was it Belly’s?), we moved on to Myola 1, walking out onto the dry lake to take in the beautiful vista. A quick lunch was held at Diggers Camp then the starter’s pistol cracked and the Kagi Handicap was on. Long lost reserves of energy was found between porter & trekker as this is the boy’s home village and for many, they have not seen their families for over a week and a half. Sore feet and knees were ignored as we pushed hard, arriving at camp in good time – my promise to the group that we would have the best toilet on the track was confirmed….a smile on most users face being confirmation of a ‘ripping view whilst doing a number 2’. We had a big feed of pasta, tea and sweet biscuits and weary bodies fell off to sleep early, tomorrow being the Sabbath and so forth a rest day…..all looking forward to a sleep in then perhaps going to church, check out the village and maybe a swim in the creek.
After a pretty cold night, we all woke up pretty stiff and sore and I decided to finish off washing my clothes at the nearby tap. This tap constantly runs because if fully closed off, the back pressure builds up and blows apart the join! If you also knock the tap, this also blows apart the join….in fact….if you look at the join sideways….the join blows apart….you get the drift! Well, I was confident of completing my washing early and getting out to dry before the sun hit the clothes line however, I looked at the join sideways and bang….an explosion of water showered me and created such a noise that anyone still asleep in camp was now wide awake! Sheepishly, I said good morning to the trekkers with quite a few grumbles and some expletives coming back in return. With everyone now up, we had plenty of time for breakfast and wait for the church bell to ring….signalling when we could start our small walk into the village for church. At 8am, ours & NRE guide Barry Jenks group attended church, packing it out much to the delight of the villagers and the pastor. It was fantastic listening to the singing of the villagers but the highlight for me was listening to Bruce Wallace read a powerful sermon to the congregation. His physical height and booming voice silenced even the little pikinini babies crying, clearly this man missed his calling and thence force , this tea drinking son of Australia was referred to as the ‘preacher’.
After church we wandered through the village back to our campsite and after a cuppa tea (yes the preacher had one), we walked down to the creek for a swim. By 2pm, it was raining again however with a majority of the washing dry, we rested for the remainder of the Sabbath and by 6pm, we wandered back down to the village centre where the village children were to sing for us. It was a great show and Baz presented some of the school children with supplies for the schooling, paid for by his trekkers. After doing the Hokey Pokey with the whole group and young Will and myself nearly sending one poor child into orbit, we said our goodbyes and headed back to camp for dinner & early bed.
Day 6 started again with another cold night in Kagi and our objective is the village of Menari (also referred to as the village of the Rooster). Again….i had pre-warned some of my trekkers about this phenomenon where there is actually more roosters in this village than people and the roosters seem to rise ridiculously early. We broke camp in Kagi and after some banana fritters, porridge, cornflakes, tea & coffee, we started walking through the village with many of the porter’s families already awake to see their husbands, boyfriends or sons assist us for the remainder of our Kokoda journey. We started the walk down to the Kagi Airfield and took a right turn down the track to Efogi 1942….this section after all of the rain was particularly slippery being not well trodden and covered with leaf litter. It was a great section for the Kokoda Turtle with many exchanged occurring between trekkers & also porters…much to everyone’s delight! We had a brief rest at the old village site then pushed on down to the creek then a big, big up to Mission Ridge, finding an old Lewis Gun magazine on the way (could have this been one from the 39th Battalion). We broke out into the open sunlight nearing the top and this quickly sapped our strength but we all arrived at the junction and caught our breath. After a few minutes rest, we pushed on up to Brigade Hill, stopping at Nishamura’s Stump to talk about his involvement in the campaign from the Japanese side and arrived at Brigade Hill in good time for lunch. We held a service with Bruce Wallace reading the poem ‘WX Unknown’ at plaque, again this proved to be a very powerful experience and tears were shed by all. I also had Belly burn some gum leaves which I collected on the climb up Mission Ridge with the smoke wafting over the site where the boys of the 2/14th, 2/16th and the 2/27th had been buried in 1942. The ‘preacher’ Bruce Wallace produced a can of Bully Beef and biscuits from his pack and it was a great moment, sharing this during lunch, at Brigade Hill where so many of Australia’s finest son’s lost their lives.
We reached Eora Creek for morning tea and then had lunch at Templeton’s Crossing and had a little swim in the frigid waters to sooth some sore feet & knees. I slipped and fell into the creek however under the Kokoda Turtle rules (section 13a…paragraph 2) specifically says that a fall has to be on the track!! Saved by bureaucracy….The last two hours to Dump 1 was taxing, the track being a quagmire of mud and the heavy rain continuing to pour down. We reached our camp site overlooking Eora Creek and it was here that one of the porters was unfortunate enough to take a tumble whilst in camp (pretty sure it was Tom Houlo) much to the delight of everyone with howls & laughter continuing for some time thereafter! The previous bureaucratic rules that saved me from the Kokoda Turtle clearly didn’t extend to Tom!!
After another great feed served up by our Master Chef Paul, we retired early for the night, listening to the heavy rain fall and prepping ourselves for tomorrow’s race…..The Kagi Handicap.
Day 4 broke with a reasonably clear sky and we broke camp and were away by 6.15am, Brian’s leg still blood stained however his progress steady & methodical. It was a tough 1 hour climb out of the creek and up to the peak of the range at around 2190m. We arrived at 1900 for smoko and with the sun shining and a cuppa tea in hand, I decided to test Keito’s accuracy with his slingshot for all of the group to see. All I needed was a volunteer to allow Keito to shoot a banana from someone’s rear end and truth behold, I can’t believe Gaz eagerly stepped forward! Well, we searched for a banana however when one couldn’t be produced, Gaz insisted on using a water bottle. Strides down and with an equally baffled but amused crowd of porters & trekkers gathering to witness this event, Keito took aim with his powerful slingshot and bang, hit the water bottle from a distance of 15 meters with enough force to make Gaz’s rear end quiver! Gaz didn’t know how lucky he was as Keito wanted me to shoot the bottle from Gaz’s butt and if I accepted, I’m pretty confident that the result would have been different!
After such frivolity and much disinfecting of Gaz’s water bottle (or was it Belly’s?), we moved on to Myola 1, walking out onto the dry lake to take in the beautiful vista. A quick lunch was held at Diggers Camp then the starter’s pistol cracked and the Kagi Handicap was on. Long lost reserves of energy was found between porter & trekker as this is the boy’s home village and for many, they have not seen their families for over a week and a half. Sore feet and knees were ignored as we pushed hard, arriving at camp in good time – my promise to the group that we would have the best toilet on the track was confirmed….a smile on most users face being confirmation of a ‘ripping view whilst doing a number 2’. We had a big feed of pasta, tea and sweet biscuits and weary bodies fell off to sleep early, tomorrow being the Sabbath and so forth a rest day…..all looking forward to a sleep in then perhaps going to church, check out the village and maybe a swim in the creek.
After a pretty cold night, we all woke up pretty stiff and sore and I decided to finish off washing my clothes at the nearby tap. This tap constantly runs because if fully closed off, the back pressure builds up and blows apart the join! If you also knock the tap, this also blows apart the join….in fact….if you look at the join sideways….the join blows apart….you get the drift! Well, I was confident of completing my washing early and getting out to dry before the sun hit the clothes line however, I looked at the join sideways and bang….an explosion of water showered me and created such a noise that anyone still asleep in camp was now wide awake! Sheepishly, I said good morning to the trekkers with quite a few grumbles and some expletives coming back in return. With everyone now up, we had plenty of time for breakfast and wait for the church bell to ring….signalling when we could start our small walk into the village for church. At 8am, ours & NRE guide Barry Jenks group attended church, packing it out much to the delight of the villagers and the pastor. It was fantastic listening to the singing of the villagers but the highlight for me was listening to Bruce Wallace read a powerful sermon to the congregation. His physical height and booming voice silenced even the little pikinini babies crying, clearly this man missed his calling and thence force , this tea drinking son of Australia was referred to as the ‘preacher’.
After church we wandered through the village back to our campsite and after a cuppa tea (yes the preacher had one), we walked down to the creek for a swim. By 2pm, it was raining again however with a majority of the washing dry, we rested for the remainder of the Sabbath and by 6pm, we wandered back down to the village centre where the village children were to sing for us. It was a great show and Baz presented some of the school children with supplies for the schooling, paid for by his trekkers. After doing the Hokey Pokey with the whole group and young Will and myself nearly sending one poor child into orbit, we said our goodbyes and headed back to camp for dinner & early bed.
Day 6 started again with another cold night in Kagi and our objective is the village of Menari (also referred to as the village of the Rooster). Again….i had pre-warned some of my trekkers about this phenomenon where there is actually more roosters in this village than people and the roosters seem to rise ridiculously early. We broke camp in Kagi and after some banana fritters, porridge, cornflakes, tea & coffee, we started walking through the village with many of the porter’s families already awake to see their husbands, boyfriends or sons assist us for the remainder of our Kokoda journey. We started the walk down to the Kagi Airfield and took a right turn down the track to Efogi 1942….this section after all of the rain was particularly slippery being not well trodden and covered with leaf litter. It was a great section for the Kokoda Turtle with many exchanged occurring between trekkers & also porters…much to everyone’s delight! We had a brief rest at the old village site then pushed on down to the creek then a big, big up to Mission Ridge, finding an old Lewis Gun magazine on the way (could have this been one from the 39th Battalion). We broke out into the open sunlight nearing the top and this quickly sapped our strength but we all arrived at the junction and caught our breath. After a few minutes rest, we pushed on up to Brigade Hill, stopping at Nishamura’s Stump to talk about his involvement in the campaign from the Japanese side and arrived at Brigade Hill in good time for lunch. We held a service with Bruce Wallace reading the poem ‘WX Unknown’ at plaque, again this proved to be a very powerful experience and tears were shed by all. I also had Belly burn some gum leaves which I collected on the climb up Mission Ridge with the smoke wafting over the site where the boys of the 2/14th, 2/16th and the 2/27th had been buried in 1942. The ‘preacher’ Bruce Wallace produced a can of Bully Beef and biscuits from his pack and it was a great moment, sharing this during lunch, at Brigade Hill where so many of Australia’s finest son’s lost their lives.
With a full stomach and a heavy heart, we moved off down from Brigade Hill down towards Menari with everyone’s feet & knees feeling the pinch. Upon arrival at the creek at the bottom, we had a great swim before completing the final 35 minute walk into Menari, setting our camp at the top of the airfield. After a big days walking, our Master Chef dished up some pizza, tea & damper with jam. Just the ticket and well received. Everyone was tired and most were asleep by 7.30pm with tomorrow being a relatively short day to New Nauro. It may be short but this doesn’t mean it won’t be hard!
Day 7 broke after some rain and the Menari roosters belting out their cry at 2am…much to the delight of the trekkers. Today is the preachers birthday, 48 years young and as we broke camp, we sung him a ‘quiet’ Happy Birthday. The climb out of Menari is pretty tough first thing in the morning and what goes up, must come down with the decent being a long & steep one down to the swamp. The swamp can be anything from fairly dry with a little bit of mud to shin deep soul destroying mud, depending on the amount of rain beforehand. Due to the amount of rain, I was expecting the latter however luckily we only had mud to half way up our boots….not bad…could be a lot worse. We stopped at the Brown River for another swim and then completed the rest of the swamp before starting the climb up to our destination, New Nauro. We made camp by midday however most were buggered and pretty glad we were staying here for the evening….myself included. Master Chef Paul cooked up an awesome Pasta and to the Preachers surprise, also made a donut cake with chocolate icing and Tim Tams…..candles brought by his young son William. It was a nice touch with everyone including the porters sampling some of this cake however off to bed by 8pm….tomorrow is another big day and on cue is raining very heavily.
Day 8 and we are up early and away by 6.15am with our destination being Ua-Ule Creek and the last camp spot of our Kokoda experience. The walk up the 9 false peaks and to the top of the Maguli Ranges was tough however everyone can now get a scent of the finish line….sore feet & knees ignored we push on and then down to Ofi Creek for another quick swim and a cuppa tea. Baz’s group came through whilst we were having a cuppa but they stopped at the top allowing us to gain the front and push onto the top of the ridge being Ioribaiwa where we stopped for a break and checked out the Australian & Japanese positions on the Western flank. We continued on to Ioribaiwa Village where we had lunch then down to the creek where the track is the creek….wet boots….don’t care at this stage so I ploughed on through! By 3pm we made camp and just like a camping expo, there was tents everywhere…..so many in fact that I cautioned my all male trekking group to ensure that you have the right tent before you get in…knowing that Baz had a couple of female trekkers within his ranks! We just had enough time for a swim however the heavens again opened up and drenched the campsite. The last dinner on the track was awesome being sweet potato, rice & cashew curry – the boys were trying to supplement it by catching an eel however maybe next time! Tomorrow is our last day on the track and an early rise for an early finish.
Day 9 and last day on the track with everyone up at 4.30am for an early getaway. This is probably the hardest day mentally with a pretty touch climb up Imita then the long decent down to the Goldie River. The push up to Owers’ Corner will test everyone. We got away in good order but it was clear that Brian was pretty tired and the climb up Imita was going to be a huge challenge for him. Brian’s personal porter Soul Noa was assisting with Robert & Jombie also assisting. The main group including myself reached the top of Imita after a 44 minute climb and not long after that, several of Baz’s young group came racing in, having tested themselves against the Porters. I asked young Will to read a poem, dedicated to the ‘Fuzzy Wuzzy Angels’ of which he did a fantastic job. Brian by now had struggled onto the top of Imita and was recovering at the front of the group during the reading.
Day 7 broke after some rain and the Menari roosters belting out their cry at 2am…much to the delight of the trekkers. Today is the preachers birthday, 48 years young and as we broke camp, we sung him a ‘quiet’ Happy Birthday. The climb out of Menari is pretty tough first thing in the morning and what goes up, must come down with the decent being a long & steep one down to the swamp. The swamp can be anything from fairly dry with a little bit of mud to shin deep soul destroying mud, depending on the amount of rain beforehand. Due to the amount of rain, I was expecting the latter however luckily we only had mud to half way up our boots….not bad…could be a lot worse. We stopped at the Brown River for another swim and then completed the rest of the swamp before starting the climb up to our destination, New Nauro. We made camp by midday however most were buggered and pretty glad we were staying here for the evening….myself included. Master Chef Paul cooked up an awesome Pasta and to the Preachers surprise, also made a donut cake with chocolate icing and Tim Tams…..candles brought by his young son William. It was a nice touch with everyone including the porters sampling some of this cake however off to bed by 8pm….tomorrow is another big day and on cue is raining very heavily.
Day 8 and we are up early and away by 6.15am with our destination being Ua-Ule Creek and the last camp spot of our Kokoda experience. The walk up the 9 false peaks and to the top of the Maguli Ranges was tough however everyone can now get a scent of the finish line….sore feet & knees ignored we push on and then down to Ofi Creek for another quick swim and a cuppa tea. Baz’s group came through whilst we were having a cuppa but they stopped at the top allowing us to gain the front and push onto the top of the ridge being Ioribaiwa where we stopped for a break and checked out the Australian & Japanese positions on the Western flank. We continued on to Ioribaiwa Village where we had lunch then down to the creek where the track is the creek….wet boots….don’t care at this stage so I ploughed on through! By 3pm we made camp and just like a camping expo, there was tents everywhere…..so many in fact that I cautioned my all male trekking group to ensure that you have the right tent before you get in…knowing that Baz had a couple of female trekkers within his ranks! We just had enough time for a swim however the heavens again opened up and drenched the campsite. The last dinner on the track was awesome being sweet potato, rice & cashew curry – the boys were trying to supplement it by catching an eel however maybe next time! Tomorrow is our last day on the track and an early rise for an early finish.
Day 9 and last day on the track with everyone up at 4.30am for an early getaway. This is probably the hardest day mentally with a pretty touch climb up Imita then the long decent down to the Goldie River. The push up to Owers’ Corner will test everyone. We got away in good order but it was clear that Brian was pretty tired and the climb up Imita was going to be a huge challenge for him. Brian’s personal porter Soul Noa was assisting with Robert & Jombie also assisting. The main group including myself reached the top of Imita after a 44 minute climb and not long after that, several of Baz’s young group came racing in, having tested themselves against the Porters. I asked young Will to read a poem, dedicated to the ‘Fuzzy Wuzzy Angels’ of which he did a fantastic job. Brian by now had struggled onto the top of Imita and was recovering at the front of the group during the reading.
By this stage of the trek, Grant Leader had ended up with the Kokoda Turtle with everyone being nervous and as careful as possible as not to fall at such a late stage…..it was clear that Belly was not going to fall as his personal porter had a hold of him at all times, even when it was flat. It’s also rumoured that even when Belly went to the toilet, his personal porter Tom Houlo held him over the long drop? That is commitment for sure!
We reached the Goldie River and enjoyed a brief swim before we all pushed on towards the end of our Kokoda journey. The last 35 minutes up to the top seemed to go on forever and the last 300 meters being out in the open kunai grass is soul destroying for all. The group paused in front of the Kokoda Arches….linking arms and together stepped through to finally complete what was an amazing journey….paying our respects to the fallen along the way and in the process also learning about oneself and perhaps some priorities in life.
It was in mid 2016 that Gary and myself caught up for a coffee to discuss taking a group of his mates over to Kokoda. His passion and enthusiasm was evident from the start and I must sincerely thank him for his assistance and drive in achieving this goal. Everyone within this group did an amazing job completing the Kokoda Track however I must single out a couple of people who I think did an exceptional job. One is the youngest bloke in the group being Will. Not only did his carry his own pack (yes Grant…you did a fantastic job as well!) but it was the mental aspect that impressed me the most. Not once did I hear you complain, you took all in before you and created a strong bond with the likes of Keito within a very short space of time. I see you being a strong capable leader in whatever you choose in life…..look after the flag mate….hang it with pride!
The other person worthy of special recognition would have to be Cocky. To be honest, I thought he wouldn’t make it after seeing him on the first day. Physically he was tired & spent at Deniki but what I didn’t bank on was this tough inner determination of ‘plodding on’. His mates of course knew of this but it took me until after his big fall climbing out of La-La Creek for me to see his true character. Hats off to you Cocky….well done and happy farming.
In closing, congratulations again to Gazz, Andrew, Belly, Big Will, Grant, Bruce, Little Will & Cocky for an amazing journey. Tell others of your experience and more importantly of the diggers sacrifice they made on the Kokoda Track.
Regards
Shane Chisholm (Guide)
No Roads Expeditions
[email protected]
We reached the Goldie River and enjoyed a brief swim before we all pushed on towards the end of our Kokoda journey. The last 35 minutes up to the top seemed to go on forever and the last 300 meters being out in the open kunai grass is soul destroying for all. The group paused in front of the Kokoda Arches….linking arms and together stepped through to finally complete what was an amazing journey….paying our respects to the fallen along the way and in the process also learning about oneself and perhaps some priorities in life.
It was in mid 2016 that Gary and myself caught up for a coffee to discuss taking a group of his mates over to Kokoda. His passion and enthusiasm was evident from the start and I must sincerely thank him for his assistance and drive in achieving this goal. Everyone within this group did an amazing job completing the Kokoda Track however I must single out a couple of people who I think did an exceptional job. One is the youngest bloke in the group being Will. Not only did his carry his own pack (yes Grant…you did a fantastic job as well!) but it was the mental aspect that impressed me the most. Not once did I hear you complain, you took all in before you and created a strong bond with the likes of Keito within a very short space of time. I see you being a strong capable leader in whatever you choose in life…..look after the flag mate….hang it with pride!
The other person worthy of special recognition would have to be Cocky. To be honest, I thought he wouldn’t make it after seeing him on the first day. Physically he was tired & spent at Deniki but what I didn’t bank on was this tough inner determination of ‘plodding on’. His mates of course knew of this but it took me until after his big fall climbing out of La-La Creek for me to see his true character. Hats off to you Cocky….well done and happy farming.
In closing, congratulations again to Gazz, Andrew, Belly, Big Will, Grant, Bruce, Little Will & Cocky for an amazing journey. Tell others of your experience and more importantly of the diggers sacrifice they made on the Kokoda Track.
Regards
Shane Chisholm (Guide)
No Roads Expeditions
[email protected]
