The Final Chapter

There had been two different groups to visit the Grampians while I was living at the hostel Landing Pads in Melbourne. I didn’t manage to go with either party and was excited Looci and I had elected to end our holiday with a couple hiking days there. The delightful heat we had enjoyed thus far had vanished, replaced by a cold, biting wind.

Still as we climbed the rocky terrain to Hollow Mountain, I built up a sweat. The trail was a clearly marked dirt track, at least for the first five minutes. Then it gave way to stone steps; after a while it was difficult to determine whether there was a trail. An emergency marker misdirected us to turn, while the path continued straight. Fortunately, I was able to pull the route up on GoogleMaps and get us back on track.

Eventually, yellow markers made certain we did not stray. It was a good thing too because the stone steps had dissolved into minor hand holds and grooves. Climb, we did, over stone and earth, up to a slanted face covered in shallow green moss. The markers led us around the mountain, up and up to a small oasis of trees, grass, and rainwater pools. From the upper reaches of Hollow Mountain, we gazed on the world below. We were on the edge of the National Park, so much of the view was occupied by farmland and yellow canola fields.

Looci and I chatted amiably about life: the past, present, and future. If there had been more water and a hell of a lot warmer the pools on the peak would have been a pleasant lounge spot. The wind nipped the sensation from my fingertips, so I suggested we start the descent. I was glad it was dry because I suspected the layer of moss was quite slick in the rain.

Mackenzie Falls were a short walk from the car park, however the path was entirely composed of stairs leading down into a gorge. The rocks were moonless night black, and the water sounded like ice sliding from a winter roof. With its last rays the sun painted a rainbow across the surface, before succumbing to the clouds. As we stood at the base of the cascade, the darkness thickened. Looci looked skywards, I nodded; I was ready to go. Halfway up the curved stairs bursts of hail erupted from above.

We pressed on, as the torrents ebbed and subsided. By the time we reached the safety of Hagrid we were dripping sweat and removing layers.

Reed Lookout was poised on a mountain crest allowing visitors to view the valleys on either side. A large tour bus occupied one corner of the carpark; its inhabitants blocked the road to snap Instagram photos. Looci and I didn’t spend much time at the viewpoints because it was cold and the valleys were masked in a mild haze. A one-kilometer trail led to the Balconies, a unique point of jutting rock. It took me several minutes of debating, but a simple round of inny-minny-miney-mo determined I was going to hike out to get a glimpse.

I have to admit, I powerwalked, got my photo, then powerwalked back. Which got me thinking…what was the point? If I was rushing the journey then seemingly, I wasn’t doing it for that aspect, and if I didn’t relish in the destination, why did I do it? I’ll tell you: movement in and of itself fills me with energy and life, movement through nature even more so. The journey, no matter the rate at which it is completed, is still worthy of the time it took to complete. I’ve been hiking my whole life, sometimes I drag my feet, other times I run the trail; yet neither choice changes the beauty of the forest around me, or the feel of fresh air in my lungs. Anyways, I digress.

The ledge itself was inaccessible without climbing over a barrier with bright red signs warning against just that. Part of me wanted the iconic photo, but another portion told me I didn’t really need it and was content with appreciation from afar.

Our final stop of the day was Silverband Falls. To get there involved travelling a snakelike one-way road through dripping forests. I was so glad to be the driver, simply because those are my FAVORITE type of drives. Fallen ferns and branches dusted the edges of the pavement, but there was nothing serious to obscure our path.

That night would be one of the coldest spent in the van, dropping to below freezing. Unfortunately, we had accidentally melted one of our blankets in a dryer back in Kakadu, so we didn’t have as many layers as we would have liked. Still we managed to survive, albeit it was a restless and disturbed night of sleep.

At one point I got up to use the toilets. The cold was whisked away on the wings of a large owl that swooped overhead to land on a nearby branch. He was unperturbed when I gawked and shone my headlamp on him. Friendly reminder…. I love animals, especially seeing them in the wild. Then on my way back I saw two glowing eyes in the bush in front of the van. It was some sort of marsupial, and like the owl it showed no fear of my presence.

Mt Abrupt was a long hike compared to the others we had undertaken. Looci chose to stay with Hagrid and get some work done. We had driven over 500km a day, almost every day for the past several weeks; I needed to feel the blood surging through my veins.

It was one of those hikes that make you believe you’re almost to the top only to repeatedly remind you that you aren’t even close. With a relatively dry, piney terrain, there were multiple signs regarding landslides and encouraging caution and swift movement through those areas.

My legs trembled and I was slightly out of breath when I reached the windmill marking the termination of the trail, but the view was worth it. Unlike Reed Lookout the surrounding areas were clear and sunny. To the north the Grampians extended towards the horizon. To the east, west, and south a chessboard of farms ruled the land.

Our final night in the van was simple and uneventful; we relaxed, barred ourselves against the cold, and dreamed about warmer times.

I had already visited Great Ocean Road months before our trip even began. So when we arrived at the Twelve Apostles, for me, the trip had reached its close. A full day of driving remained, but it was on roads that I had already driven, to see sights I was already familiar with. The weather was better and there was no smoke clouding the skies, but after 23,000km and three months we were at an end, our final chapter complete.