I may as well have drunk from a toilet and taken a selfie!

I had a Forest Gump moment and was done.

My plan was to walk north until the first car appeared and hitch back to civilisation to redesign the adventure.

But 4hrs and 20km later… the car didn’t stop, nor the next one, or the next.

Sobering.

The best worst week yet… 

I made a critical foot care error and have opened wounds on my feet.

I didn’t want to get my (only pair of hiking) socks wet from trudging through the snow… So I only wore my neoprene inners...ruined them… And now my feet looks something like Dad’s BBQ’d sausages – a total mess.

My faithful shoes died, I’m given almost new boots (!!) but my orthotics don’t fit in them…

So my week starts with new blisters and interruptions as I try to find ways to lace my boots, orthotics and wounds together, pain free. I couldn’t.

I’m walking for more days, longer distances and with a heavier pack.

Perfect timing for the spine of my pack to break from the overload. Every.single.step. the pack becomes more and more off center and I’m battling not to walk in circles. The rod begins to wedge itself into my back and I slowly descend into mental agony.

Stewing on it at night, I have a zip tie #MacGyverMoment and the next day it’s better.

I push on for a few days.

Next my hip becomes so inflamed I can barely tightening my hip belt. It’s the kind of pain you have to keep touching to check if it really is as bad as it is. So I take a day off.

I discover a fresh water beach with mountains and glacial backdrop. The scene is so pristine I gloated about it before settling in to rest, recover and take a few obligatory selfies.

I collect water and notice mildewie plant life floating in the water so I filter it just in case.

My filter isn’t filtering…

But I use the water anyway because Patagonia water is acclaimed for its purity.

I eat. Relax. And moments later a storm hits: “Mixed snow and rain, heavy winds”.

Instead of strolling along the beach with the wind in my hair… I cower in my tent for the day!

I start problem solving various issues and in particular have a win with my hip making an O-ring that will later take the pressure entirely away.

Mid innovation, I urgently need the toilet. Timed like a teenage joke, my tent zip jams and I can’t open the door! …

I burst out of my tent just in time… to not make it… and stand frozen, on my paradise beach, in a gale blown snow storm, half naked wondering what to do.

With as much grace as a running cow, I struggle  to the water. Unphased by the temperature in my state, I take a bath and wash my clothes (yep). #adventurelife

Grateful for privacy on my remote tranquil beach paradise I muse at the only circumstance toppable. A more public location… which is exactly what happens the next morning at a well used intersection!

It was still dark.

I find my depleted stash of toilet paper only to have it snatched from my hand by the wind.

Again, gracefully, I chase after it down the highway, pants around my ankles… cars rolling past.

Like Anne of Green Gables clutched to the bridge (tell me you remember this) I continue walking up the road, with my previous days undies drying from my pack, waving to onlookers…

Two days away is a service station. Motivated by the world’s only cure to everything I charge forward wondering how much chocolate I can buy with the money I have on me… And toilet paper.

Two days and a finely tuned grocery list later I arrive. $10 a bar! I don’t buy chocolate.

Instead I decide to have another attempt at a day off. I continue 20km further, divert off the track to an 800m wide lagoon.

It’s remote, there’s a wind shelter, it’s perfect. I arrive late, set up camp, go to collect water and… The lagoon isn’t a lagoon. It’s a silt sump.
I have no water.

Keen for a distraction and to review my plans, I decide this is the moment to use my spare power on music. I go to recharge my phone.

My solar panel is broken.

In the morning, I wake with renewed standards and collect water from a frozen over 4WD track off the side of the road.

The next water source is 30km on….

On the way something really mature happens.

My selfie stick breaks!

Suddenly I find myself asking one of life’s most important questions:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What is all this for?

 

I pull out the emergency Jelly Beans stash a girlfriend express posted me (for.this.exact.moment) and in a sugary euphoria, and with absolute certainty, I decide to quit.

So I flag down the fourth car, tip out my emergency mud water and head back to town sandwiched between two truck drivers.

On arrival I find out the tracker on my Beacon isn’t working. #MyPoorMother

It’s also a pretty tough blow for someone numerically motivated.

Disgruntled, and looking about as attractive as the possessed girl from The Ring, I’m sent to the doctor to have my crumbling body inspected.

The doctor tells me to toughen up. Fine.

In a side conversation with this cheery doctor I discover an interesting piece of trivia; my fresh water ocean paradise with mountain and glacial backdrop is the happy recipient of  the entire town sewerage run off.

Perfect.

Next item on my shopping list: better water purification!

Still I walk (with you)

Back online, I  read emails, notice social love in’s (likes, shares, comments) and am overwhelmed by people who donate enough to oblige me to get out there for another round…

Toughened up I’m grateful to be walking with a community! At times I’m so lonely I steal hugs from strangers.

Possibly I’m scary as hell!

So keep the love coming and share, react and write!

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How you can help

1. Grow support by liking and sharing my posts and social pages.

2. Give me feedback – I love the good, the bad and the ugly.

3. If you know anyone along my path who would happily offer me a shower… that’s probably best for everyone!

4. If you have ideas (photographic, social, or sponsor contacts), or want to hear about something in particular – go ahead and send me a message but keep in mind while I’m on the trail it may take a few days for me to get back to you.

5. You can donate hot chocolate, dinner… or a new shirt here.

Those of you who do this regularly – literally (and embarrassingly) tears of enjoyment.

Thank you!!! 😍

– but best of all,

6. Keep on reading!

Thanks for all your support – the primary reason why me and my depleted first-aid kit are still here!!!!

Big Love,

Lucy

19 Comments

  1. Lucy……….what can I say ????
    All so depressing.
    Glad you are still able to write.
    Hopefully things will improve..

  2. Hi Lucy. Even the worst day ever ends after 24 hours. Well done for writing it all down- your future self will appreciate it. Keep resilient and smiling

  3. When the stars don’t align in the universe, and instead does a WWF slap down move on you to see what stuff you are made of, remember that you are your fathers daughter, you are resourceful, and you are persevering…remember you are not alone, you got this!

  4. Oh the poomanity!! Hahaha Glad you decided to keep trekking chick! You got this!!

  5. lucy I just want to give you a big hug ….and some lambswool slippers for you poor feet xxx

  6. Lucy you are amazing. So brave and strong. I hope you are feeling better. I’m sure Anne Shirley would have wise words. I’m just going to say. Forward!

  7. Poor Lucy. Still what a tough lady, powering on. Inspirational, absolutely

  8. I’ve never laughed so much…I loved the part where you go to the doctor for sympathy and get told to toughen up. And another 2 years to go. My body won’t be able to stand it if you keep going like that!

  9. Never underestimate a day’s ability to get worse. Then laugh when it does.

  10. Excellent writing, and resilience for thsi matter. Having read that I don’t think my day at work will seem as hard. Perhaps just a little more boring. You capture what I assume is the spirit of your adventure really well. Fare thee well sounds a little like I’ve just deserted you in the most remote place in the world with nothing given you a thumbs and said, ‘You’ll be right tiger’.
    So, you’ll be right tiger. Thumbs up.

    • Haha. Thanks Dave. Ps, there’s a typo in your comment! lol… But seriously… Shadow editors always welcome!!

  11. Oh Lucy what a rough patch! I had a smaller scale version on my 1000km hike of the one thing after another – every day needing to try a new strategy to try and reduce foot pain (mostly To no avail) (strapping g with tape, orthotics, new shoes, loose laces…the ultimate best solution was to bandage my feet with a compression bandage and then cutting off all laces bar one across the very top to fit in my very fat bandaged feet!). Then posting myself the wrong food box so I didn’t have enough food, tent leaking at 2am, a stay in the hip belt of my pack breaking…I feel you with that seemingly never ending list of things fucking up. (Oh and I also sympathise with the urgent toilet situations … :/ )

    And the question, why bother? For me I actually came to the conclusion that there was no point to what i was doing…but there was also no point in not doing it …if that makes sense??

    Ultimately it was one of the best experiences of my life to date. But best more in a way of character building and life appreciating and lesson learning and growth; rather than pleasant enjoyable experiences. Haha.

    Hope you get some rest and look after your precious feet.

    Keep going! You’re amazing!

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