Larapinta Trail: Section 5 - Hugh Gorge

Day 8 of 18 Monday

Sunrise Windy Saddle

  They say Section Five of the Larapinta Trail is the most spectacular of the trail and you know what, I’ve got to say the masses haven’t got it wrong. Arising this morning we quickly broke camp, it was now becoming a routine. The aches and pains were less, or maybe more bearable, the body had hardened somewhat although I don’t know how you can get any harder than my seasoned hiker abs of steel - Right.  Only took eight days on the job training but who’s counting.
Today’s destination was to be Hugh Gorge and it’s here we were going to catch up with Big J.  If you have been reading this blog you’ll know him as the man, the myth, the legend of Ti Tree Police Station (in his mind anyway) and Saviour of Irish’s feet on Day One when he dropped everything to rush out in his trusty pony mobile to bring out a new pair of boots, a beer and some goodies to us at Simpson Gap.  He was going to be joining us for a couple of day as we stroll into Ellery Creek for our second resupply. 
I personally was looking forward to hanging shit on him about life in general. However, before we could catch up and hang shit on each other we had to conquer the wilds of today. As previously mentioned, Section Five is touted as spectacular with amazing views and top of the world moments. But the flip side of that is in order to experience this  there are some serious climbs and ridgeline walking required and yes that is in the brochure.  The maps had it down as ‘ Very hard, and experienced hikers only’ , ooh well you know the old saying, no pain no gain and all that.

looking back on Windy saddle

Setting out from Windy Ridge, the day was beautiful, the sun was creeping up over the horizon and the sky was turning its beautiful Azure colour. Now breaking camp, a quarter of the way up a mountain and hitting the trail straight up isn’t how most of us like to rise and shine but let’s say it certainly got the blood pumping.
Thirty minutes later we were nearing a point where it looked like it was going to flatten out for a little while, so I figured that was a good place to stop and look back on where we had come from. Now generally in life I’m not much of a looking back kind of guy but I found this trail certainly had a habit of rewarding you when you do. I was starting to find it quite rewarding to be reminded of the arduous nature of our travels. It is sort of like random reinforcement, a powerful motivator of behaviour that gives you a warm and fuzzy feeling. In this context it implies you can do this and wow look at what you have achieved all rolled into one.

Today as I was looking back I caught a glimpse of movement way down in the valley. Upon closer examination I could see a solitary hiker totally in the swing of things, this bloke was travelling light, and travelling at a cracking pace. Flying up the mountain at a pace that was eye watering. Pointing this out to Irish we were both well impressed at his pace and maybe a little cynical that he was probably only a day tripper (not that there is anything wrong with that).
Deep down I think I was a little jealous that this bloke was effortlessly scaling the mountain with ease. I’ve always been a little competitive in life and watching this bloke scoot up this mountain. Well the rules of testosterone simply weren’t going to let this go unchallenged. So I briefly thought jobs on!! This bloke may be a machine, but I can I beat him to the top. But Just as quickly as that thought entered my mind, I realised that such thoughts were akin to me being that car in front of you travelling at 5km an hour under the speed limit holding up traffic only to speed up when a ‘keep left whilst overtaking’ sign appears. I hate those people and I’m sure you do too so I just stood there watching the guy in awe.

Razor back ridge - sometimes the blue arrow lie

Turns out he wasn’t a day tripper and was a through hiker like us. But was Averaging 50km per day and deliberately travelling ultralight to achieve this. Talking to him for a couple of minutes left me feeling like I had a man crush. This bloke was truly a hiking machine, he had thrown in his job, sold his house to go hiking America’s Big Trail, completing the Pacific Crest Trail, half the Continental Divide Trail (you’ll recall that’s the 5000km trail I was training for) and 75% of the Appalachian Trail in winter just because he can.
Interestingly one point out of this conversation revealed that mile for mile the Larapinta Trail was in his opinion more challenging terrain wise. It would seem the Pacific Crest Trail is like a walk in the park in comparison with its graded tracks and switchback trails to accommodate horseback riders. That was encouraging to me as I was having serious doubts that I could undertake those trails. Bidding farewell he was gone in a flash, and we were left plodding along.

Razorback ridge came up pretty quickly and the name aptly describes it. Be careful walking along this ridge line because it’s one slip and you’re gone kind of country.
  A further point of caution on this section was one of the trail markers indicated we were to descend off the ridgeline. The little blue arrow was definitely pointing down and indicating a descent but yet the map was telling us our destination was Razorback Ridge. The topography was telling me the ridgeline we were on was very Razorback like. There was no other ridge close by to warrant the descent. It was impossible to ascertain the trail as there really wasn’t one visible as you scrambled along the ridgeline. So, we just sat for five minutes to soak in the views and regain our bearings. It was definitely a case of looking around and taking it all in.

Razor back ridge descent - sometimes a little hairy

Fortunately the trail revealed its directional clue to us in the form of two red dots off in the distance on the ridgeline we were on. As I sat watching, I could see them disappear and reappear periodically. After another five minutes or so it became evident that they were a pair of hikers in matching red jackets inching along the ridgeline.
Decision made, we ignored the directional blue arrow and walked along the ridgeline towards them. It was shortly thereafter we saw another arrow indicating the ridgeline was indeed the correct direction of travel. We just couldn’t see it from where we stopped at the last arrow.
In this instance it certainly paid to look around and follow your gut instinct and not blindly follow the directional arrows.  Mind you I reckon you would have only been geographically embarrassed for a couple of minutes because there would have been no further trail indicators, so one would have tucked their tail between their legs and back tracked. No foul done just something to be cautious of. Turns out our red jacketed trail friends were a lovely Asian couple with packs half their size and towering over them, a funny site but I was thankful for their colourful matching attire.

Have I mentioned the ridgeline offered amazing top of the world views? Of course, I have. It’s truly beautiful up there so be sure to take it all in and take a moment to relax and unwind further if that’s possible. This place is amazing for your mental health as all your worries just slip away. On the descent I found myself listening to music and singing to the top of the world at the top of my lungs. To anyone listening they would of seen a slightly mad man skipping along in a world of his own and sounding like one too as I belted out off key tunes.

Broke Back mountain waterhole sign

The descent to Fringe Lilly Creek was quite steep and windy, the path in places warranted serious concentration as the shale like rocks underfoot were quite slippery.
By the time we got to the bottom I was a little mentally drained so opted to sit under a ghost gum and wait for Irish to catch up. Someone had made a sign in the sand indicating a waterhole was 200m along the creek bed in the opposite direction of travel. I had heard this offered good swimming and water, so I wanted to refill my water and maybe take a dip.
Irish wasn’t that far behind, when she flopped down beside me for a rest, we also opted for a quick snack after the morning’s effort.
Whilst sitting in the shade chewing on our delights, a couple of young Englishmen walked down the mountain oblivious to our presence - they walked past us about 50m away in the direction of the water hole. It appeared they too knew about this secret little water hole that wasn’t mentioned on the maps. Not thinking anything of it we kept to ourselves and relaxed on our break.
Now nourished we set out ten minutes later to find the waterhole ourselves. We could hear laughter and squeals up ahead, it seems our English friends had found the water a little cool to their liking. A few minutes later I crested a boulder and looked down into the waterhole to see my very own broke back mountain moment unfolding before my eyes. Turning to Irish I called out politely letting her know the waterhole was over here and, in the process, discreetly alerting our English friends to our presence.
The poor buggers must have thought they were alone in the wilds only to have “their moment” skinny dipping in the wilds of NT disturbed by a rough looking modern-day Peter Falconio type man looking down on them from above.
I’ve never seen two grown men more embarrassed and fearful in my life. Needless to say it was funny as hell and I struggled not to laugh out loud. Polite conversation ensured whilst we filled up our water bottles, as they kept sneakily looking at their clothes on the rocks nearby. I could read their thoughts like a book; they were wondering if I was aware of their predicament and were praying that the earth would just open and swallow us. Bottles filled we departed quickly, their sighs of relief were almost audible as we walked away. I bet they won’t do that in a hurry again I thought.

Downtime on the LT

Heaving our packs onto our backs we set off to our next destination for the day. Destination, Hugh Gorge. Our colour matched Asian friends had already warned us that we were going to have to swim across a gorge with our packs to get to the other side and how difficult it was going to be, apparently they struggled because there were short.   I’m not sure though what being short had to do with swimming but hey I knew it was going to be a technical adventure ahead so I was looking forward to mixing it up, just not the cold swim bit.
However before we got there it was going to be more of my favourite kind of trail to endure, more bloody Bouldering.  Having said that this part of the trail isn’t what I really consider bouldering* as per se*, it’s more like creek bed walking with a mix of sandy patches and football size rocks to walk on. Makes for hard going on the ankles but not really that difficult, just annoying you can’t get a good rhythm going.

Hugh Gorge is quite photographic; the towering sides of the gorge throw off deep outback shades of red that are constantly changing in colour as the sun moves overhead at different times of the day. The creek bed is dotted with large ghost gums that add to the charismatic feel of the surrounds. It really made for a pleasant stroll.  As we pushed deeper into the gorge little water holes appeared, creating obstacles to walk around but rather than being a hindrance they complimented the surrounds and the birdlife made for ever changing views. 
The waterholes got bigger and the challenges to get around them feet dry became harder and eventually we came to the infamous Hugh Gorge crossing. Standing and analysing this for ways around it proved fruitless, and it is with some trepidation you eventually come to the conclusion that you’re going to have to get wet feet and actually swim this bad boy. 
The area in question is not very wide or very long but the walls of the gorge are steep so there’s no going over or around it. No if’s or but’s you just have to go through it.
Rather than spoil the adventure and give you a blow-by-blow description how we did it and managed to keep our packs dry, I’ll opt to simply give you a clue. Adopt the mindset there is more than one way to skin a cat or in this case swim a gorge with a pack. There are two options that I could see, there may be more, but every good adventure has to have some mystery.  Ok I can’t resist; I’ll give one additional clue in the form of – one more word only ‘Rope’.  Right, I’ve said enough now choose your own adventure. (I used to love those books as a kid).

Oh, and let me be clear the water temperature is definitely ‘freeze the balls of a brass monkey’ temperature. I never laughed so hard as when I saw Irish, launch herself into the water only to squeal like a stuck pig and walk on water to get out of it. Well, I tell a lie there, but that’s another story for about day Ten - isn’t it Big J?

After drying off from our brisk but invigorating swim we hit the trail again. More creek beds but it wasn’t far before we were greeted by Hugh Gorge campsite. It’s more wide open than a lot of the other campsites, but  has got the usual whistles and bells as far as LT designated campsites go. Shelter, water, toilet, little furry friends and people.