Larapinta Trail: section 2 -unwanted visitors

Day 4 of 18 Thursday

Mulga Camp Vicinity, Larapinta trail

I knew I didn’t like the campsite at Mulga Camp, something about it just didn’t feel right when we arrived late yesterday and set up camp.
Sitting down at the picnic table next to the Taj Mahal I was boiling some water for our evening a la carte dehydrate meals when I saw we had a cute little furry friend scurry out of the grass and up beside my foot. . Fearlessly looking around and sniffing the air, uninspired he then scurried off into the grass seemingly on his merry little way. It didn’t even occur to me that this little furry friend was here for sinister intent.
 Those that know me know that I’m very much a carnivore through and through. I do love my different types of Proteins and there isn’t much I haven’t eaten protein wise. I’ve even eaten the symbolic animals on our coat of arms (Emu and Kangaroo). Vegetables to me have always been the sides in a meal, sure they play a role in a balanced diet but to me they are not the main meal. But hey, if that’s your thing then that’s your thing so no judgments here on the vegos of the world. But Vegans, well they are a special breed of peeps. They’re angry little buggers always quick to let you know that you are directly responsible for the demise of society and are contributing to global warming through the heinous consumption of poor harmless animals. Also, what’s with them telling you inside of 30 seconds of meeting  “I am a vegan”. I often wonder if that is in the training manual for vegans or is it the result of chronic low Iron levels impacting on the impulse centres of the brain. Anyway, I digress, tonight I was putting my meanderthal neanderthal ways on the back burner and opening my eyes to beyond that of my narrow views.
It was time to let ‘the Trail’ give out and educate my culinary palate, yes tonight I was dining on Indian chickpea plant-based curry (vegan of course).  So never being one to shy away from new experiences and realising that the trail was going to be all about experiencing new things I resigned myself to a vegan meal. If it goes wrong my plan B was to blame Irish for talking me into trying this delightful morsel.

Dinner cooked, the aromatic flavours of India permeated through the air. Well, it smells alright so off to a good start. As I open my packet of delights and attempt to chow down on some taste bud tantalising ‘chickpea plant based curry.’, I make the fatal mistake of looking into the packet, and left thinking ‘who the fuck would voluntarily swallow this swill. It looks like a baby’s pasty poo with extra lumps in it to give  that full bodied feeling’.
One bite later and I was convinced! It didn’t taste much better either, but I forced it down as it was 800 calories of ‘vegan goodness’ and calories was what this hungry hiker needed. Reflecting on my meal as I washed it down with pond water, I could feel the anger rising in me (I put it down to acute vegan induced Iron depletion syndrome). I’m left pondering why we could put man on the moon but we couldn’t invent a dehydrated T- Bone steak, mash and three vegetables with red wine jus.  What has the world come to that we stooped so low to invent Vegan plant-based chickpea curry.
Ooh look, my furry friend is back and he’s brought his friends. Shit, they’re everywhere, it’s a plague of furry friends.  Retiring to the tent as the daylight fades, I’m envisioning a good nights sleep. Fast forward four hours and I’m still awake. My furry friends have now been demoted to fucking rodents as they crawl all over the tent, their little squeaks and  pitter-patter of claws climbing up the mesh and scurrying across the top of my tent are driving me crazy. I am spiralling into rage as my sleep deprivation, restless legs, fatigue and acute iron deficiency mix into pure hatred. Snapping on my torch I see one on the bastards on the mesh centimetres away from my head looking at me almost challenging my existence. I’d had enough! It was time to teach this bastard a lesson so I lashed out with a fist, connected and watched with satisfaction as he goes flying off into the darkness hopefully never to return. I was wrong. His vengeance or that from his friends was swift and it was a never ending game of ‘angry vegan’ and mouse all night

Overlooking Fish Hole. Section 2 Larapinta Trail

Sunrise didn’t come quickly enough and when it finally did it offered a type of consolation prize in the form of a beautiful crisp morning. Wolfing down breakfast and sharing rodent stories over a hot cuppa we were out of there with a plan. First stop was to be Spring Gap. I had heard there was a nice little waterhole there, so off we trundled for a nice morning stroll. Five minutes after setting off  one couldn’t but help be lifted in spirits, whilst nature had robbed us of sleep last night, it was replacing it in spades with the sheer beauty and serenity of the surrounding country side.
Arriving at Spring Gap without any trouble, after all it was only a 2.5km walk and I was a seasoned hikers now on day 4 of the Larapinta Trail. (That’s sarcasm by the way).  I was drawn to sit down in the shade of an ancient ghost gum and while sitting there for several minutes to catch my breath I slipped into almost a trance as I pondered natures beauty at this little waterhole, and stereotypically reflected on the meaning of life. Time passed and I didn’t have a care in the world it was almost as if time was meaningless in itself.  I just sat quietly watching birds ducking and weaving dipping down to scoop up a beak full of water or to chase a tasty insect to dine on. The wind was gently blowing causing the leaves to rustle and the odd one to periodically fall from the trees into the pond causing an ever so small ripple that ever expanded. The water was clear and perch like fish were darting to every disturbance in the hope it was an insect for a feed. It really was peaceful. Today was a good day.
Irish arrived shortly thereafter, we had a brief chat, shared a few pistachio nuts and I left her to experience the beauty of this quaint little waterhole. Destination Jay Creek a mere 7.3km up the trail, it was there we were to meet next for lunch.
You really can’t get lost on this trail. Well I shouldn’t say can’t get lost but it’s well sign posted with follow the blue arrow markers indicating direction of travel and periodically distances at intervals of one kilometre. Sometimes they are a little way apart and following them in creek beds can be harder because they are more spread out especially if there is no clear definitive path to reassure you.  But generally, if you don’t see one you start to second guess yourself and when you do that you inevitably start looking harder and you then pick up on subtle indicators you are going in the right directions. You don’t have to be a Harry Butler  (I’m showing my age now) or a Bear Grylls to be able to navigate this trail but some observational skills do come in handy. Quite often I found myself following faint footprints or looking ahead to catch glimpses of the trail. On rare occasions making educated guesses where the trail was headed based on the topography and what I had read on the maps we carried.

Dapper Irish in her new boots

 Arriving at Jay Creek several hours later, after walking in some stunning country, I found it to be somewhat unremarkable. It’s just off a sandy riverbed and about 1km away from fish hole. Moreover, it had that fucking rodent feel about it too, so when I arrived there around lunch time I was hoping Irish wasn’t too far behind me because I wanted to push on for a couple of hours and escape this camping site and the accumulation of campers there. This section of the trail was getting a little too ‘peopley’ for me.
 Fortunately Irish had made good time today and wasn’t too far away, sharing my opinions on the campsite we opted for a quick bite to eat and to fill up on water before pushing on for a few hours. That’s the beauty of the LT, if you don’t want to camp in a particular spot then you just move on unabated. Water is the only issue on this trail, in fact all your plans revolve around that precious little commodity, you know it kind of sustains life so it’s a big deal.
The Water supplies on the Larapinta Trail,  I have to say, are well maintained and managed proficiently. The National Parks and Wildlife team do a great job of filling water tanks at each trailhead, thereby negating the need to haul super large quantities of water for super long distances or rely on ‘Pond water” of varying quality. They still recommend you treat the water before consumption, whilst this is very relevant with the consumption of water from the varying natural sources on the trail, I got the feeling it was more ‘arse covering’ from them for their tank water. I initially did for a couple of days but then it always tasted like Alice Springs water (very distinctive taste if you live there) to me so I stopped popping my little chemical pills in and had no trouble. I did also carry a ‘Life straw’ to filter water but to be honest I never used it, the pond water was generally always clear and cool and a chem tab simply did the trick.
Now as I mentioned before the trailheads all have tank water and toilets, some have shelters too and they always have fellow hikers nearby for company. For those wanting a more secluded and isolated feeling you just fill up your water here and push on. The beauty of the LT is that you can simply camp in a lot of out of the way kind places. Little impromptu campsites for one or two tents at varying feature points on the trail, some are marked on the maps and some are simply points where people have got to and either had enough for the day or it’s got a view or attributes making it a good place to rest – like shade or out of the elements.  Having said that there is a flip side to all of the secluded campsites. There are no other amenities and if you are a little precious about your toileting habits, that is you don’t want to be a bear shitting in the woods, then it is best to plan well ahead of time to orchestrate your daily constitution to coincide with toilet facilities. Now that can be an art form in itself and this would not be a multi-day trail blog without discussing how one shits in the woods. My best and wisest piece of advice is simply this… one should carefully shit in the woods and site selection is paramount.  Case in hand today, the revenge of the Vegan chickpea curry came upon me in its full fury about 750m away from toilet facilities after leaving Jay Creek. You see I never thought it through, fill up the water supplies, and, well .. attend to business. I was so keen to get out of there, onto the trail and push out some more miles that the thought never crossed my mind. But when it did, omg it was like I had just given my bodily function it’s very own green light to unleash the fury of Vegan chick pea curry - the Vegan curry was big on defying gravity and seeking its revenge.  I distinctly recall stopping to think about it (only to increase the need more), and had stopped in the sandy riverbed, looking back at Irish about 150m away. Shit there’s no cover here. My next thought was a ghastly one.  I just knew I wasn’t going to be able to drop pack and bolt back to the toilet facilities in time without a nasty accident occurring. So that left the logical side of my brain to spring into action…. Dropping my pack, I bolted out of the riverbed for the nearest tree about 50m away, shit shovel in one hand and a roll of dunny paper in the other I was running like a possessed man trying to escape a demon of biblical proportions. Hastily digging a hole in the sand and lining up everything I went about my business.
Shortly thereafter and not yet finished, I could hear Irish calling out and asking if we were at Fish hole yet, oblivious to my predicament. Please don’t look this way, please don’t look this way I whispered to myself as I snuck a peek out from behind the flimsy tree I was hiding behind. With pants around my ankles and my Lilly white arse hanging out in the breeze for all to see, I was reduced to feeling like a dog looking at its owner whilst it did its business.
Opting for discretion to be the better part of valour and not replying I was able to narrowly save grace and Irish’s eyesight from such a truly horrendous vison that would have scarred her for life. I guess the moral of this story is that bears do shit in the woods and if you are going to be a bear then it’s best to be a good little boy scout and be prepared, either that or don’t eat vegan chickpea curry and regulate your constitutions to utilise facilities as they become available. Still, as horrendous an experience as it could have been, I look back now and laugh knowing I got away with it.
Tonight’s campsite ended up being all the way to Tangentyere Junction another 4.6km further on and a leisurely total of 14.6km. Not bad day for both of us if I dare say so myself

Constitution tree view- a narrow escape