Mt Buffalo September 20-21 2006

Hiking solo for 4 days? Sounded like more than I could handle. Not the hiking, the solo. I like people, I like interaction. But I felt God calling me to the wilderness, like you wouldn’t believe. In the middle of a church service he gave me a picture, of myself standing on a peak above many other mountains, his kingdom stretched before me, and he simply said ‘Go’. How could I not go?

So I planned my trip. Up and over Mount Buffalo from Thursday to Sunday. I drove up Wednesday night, met my parents and let them buy me lunch in Benalla, and then said goodbye to human interaction. I made it to the foot of Buffalo at around 4 so thought, ‘might as well get going’ and set out to see how far I could get up by sunset. Problem was, I’d looked at the map and seen that by the road, it was 24 k’s up the mountain – easily one day’s worth of walking. It didn’t occur to me that I would also be climbing the 1 ½ k’s from the park entrance. So I chucked on my overstuffed pack and began walking along the road. I had the camera out, so my travelling companion (a garden gnome) and I took a few nice photos along the way. By sunset I had hiked around ten k’s, but pushed on through the dark a little further til I reached a picnic ground, where I set up my tent near a fire place. I scrounged some wood and lit a fire, but after not too long, I retreated to my tent and went to sleep.

I got started early the next morning (partly because I wasn’t in a legit campsite and dint want to get in trouble) and got started again, moving off the road and onto the trail proper, to begin moving up the face of this mountain. A lot of the trail was granite boulder, but the views from certain points were amazing, down into the valleys. I had my iPod, which helped me pass the time, a soundtrack of live albums and musicals. At midday, after walking nine kilometres, and going up 1 kilometre, I was exhausted and on the last bunch of steps that I climbed to reach the plateau, my right knee was clicking in and out of place. Saying goodbye to my plans of ‘wilderness’ I threw my pack down at the door of the chalet, walked into the café and ordered a chicken salad, a coke and bought a newspaper. For the next hour I relaxed in the civility of the café, but realised I would need to do something about my accommodation for the night. I asked nicely if I could leave my pack behind, and in the next 3 hours with just a daypack, jogged the 12 k’s back down the mountain to my car. I picked up my pack, drove to the campsite on the mountain, only to find it was closed. Arggh what was I going to do?