Melbourne to Cairns - 5,599 Kilometers

Somewhere South of Cairns

It was June 12, 2018, when my mate Chris and I picked up our rental van, the place we would call home for the next five weeks. This van was a manual, which made for an interesting journey, for the first few days anyway. Chris had been driving a stick for a few weeks leading up to the road trip, in our beloved Morrison - but it had been several years since I last attempted to learn - an abysmal attempt at that. When it came to activities, we made a concerted effort to hike and spend as much time in the great outdoors as possible, so we decided to stay inland from Melbourne for the first leg of the trip. As we made our way into national parks and ascended higher and higher in elevation, the days and nights grew increasingly colder. One day in, the plan was going swimmingly - day two was a different story.

Fateful Day 2:

We were still getting used to sleeping in a van and trying to navigate the unfamiliar terrain before us, when all of the sudden, we were being pulled over. We were issued a speeding ticket and sent on our way - there is more to that story, but will be preserved for another time. We went along and tried to keep positive attitudes after the annoyance we dealt with earlier in the day. We found an information desk and decided to ask a local for her advice regarding how to spend the rest of our afternoon and the next couple of days in Kosciuszko National Park. She pointed us in the direction of the Henry Angel Campsite, which was home to some leisurely walking tracks. She also mentioned that the Snowy Mountain Highway was a beautiful route to take through the mountains as we headed east. Done. We were ready to end the day and get rolling again the next day.

We found the campsite, parked our camper, quickly mapped out the rest of our day (and by mapped out, I mean planned when to eat and what to have for dinner) and found this walking trail, which shall not be named (again). I VERY rarely/NEVER look at my phone to check the time before setting out on such a walk, but for whatever reason on this day, I checked the time as we set out. It was 2:11 PM as we departed the campsite and wandered about for 10-15 minutes before finding the proper route to take - that in and of itself should have been a warning - hindsight is 20-20. We were both thoroughly enjoying the wide open space before us, as we meandered in and out of pastures full of livestock, walking next to a winding, slowly running creek and into the forest. We came across wild horses, a mob of kangaroos and a couple obstacles as well. Those obstacles being a sign for "wild dog" (to which I asked myself, just one, or possibly a pack?) and mounds, about 1 meter (almost 3 feet) in height of horse dung - the horse droppings were easy enough to avoid, and we just crossed our fingers that the "wild dog" would not be an issue. Our surroundings had changed as quickly and vastly as the direction, as we were following signs for the "name not to be mentioned" trail - with my sense of direction back in California, I just figured we were winding toward where we came from. Well, I could not have been more wrong. The clock was quickly approaching 5:00 PM, which meant sunset, as it was winter in Australia - and thinking this was going to be a short stroll, neither of us brought water or snacks. I thought it best we try to look at a map on the phone, so we did and quickly realized we were nowhere near the camp, or the main road. Chris kept his wits about him and calculated the quickest way out of the dense forest that we found ourselves in. With daylight fading, so was any warmth provided by the sun - but in order to preserve our phone batteries, we walked by natural light as long as we could - which was until about 6:00 PM. Chris lit the way as I watched the map and hoped we were heading in the general direction of camp. I had to keep deferring to Chris, as I did not want to get us in even deeper water than we already found ourselves. To try to keep our minds off of the present situation, we talked about everything under the sun and as Chris said, "we will have the world's problems solved by the time we get back to the van." I kept asking when it would an appropriate time to call for help, which he assured me was not necessary - which he was right - what would I say? "Hi, we are walking and are lost, but we are fine, just wanted to let you know?" :D

Nighttime had set in as we were retracing our steps a bit and not able to avoid the horse poop piles as easily as by daylight, so that was a lost cause. We walked past more posts with dog warnings and REALLY hoped for the best at this point - the best being, we would not come across said animals. At one point, we were NOT going to turn around (again), so we crossed a creek, failing at our best attempt to keep our feet dry, but at that point, the horse manure that had been kicked up onto our legs and into our shoes and our water-soaked feet were unnoticed nuisances. We were astonished by our adrenaline and how it carried us through, for hours, and what we guessed was about 20-25 miles. By the time we reached an opening in the trail and the road that would lead us to the "main road," it was about 8:40 PM. We turned the flashlight off, as we felt we were out of the woods, quite literally, and walked by starlight, which was a bit hard to come by on the overcast evening. In another 20-30 minutes, we reached a road where cars were present, about 1 car passed every 15-20 minutes, but that was something. The aches and pains from the journey began to set in, the blisters were now deep cuts on the back of my ankles, but there was still more ground to cover. The first car flew by us as we tried to flag it down, but about 15 minutes later, another car approached and we managed to get this one to stop. Turns out, once we made it to the main road, we started walking the wrong direction, but the angels in the truck told us to hop in, and they drove us back. I don't think I have ever been more excited to see a van in my whole life. It had been about 8 hours since either of us had eaten or drank a thing, so I made dinner quickly, the best vegetable scramble we have ever had, naturally... and as exhausted as we both were, I don't think we slept a wink that evening.

The remaining weeks did not carry this type of excitement, thank goodness.

The next day we set out on the Snowy Mountain Highway, which we came to find is appropriately named. As we climbed, we passed signs stating that chains may be necessary, which we, of course, did not have. In no time we were driving through the snowy conditions the name promised - we were in about 6 inches of snow, as it continued falling, but we took it slowly and made it out of those conditions unscathed. That evening we stayed in the small mountain town of Cooma. We both really liked the vibe of the place, but we were not keen on the sleeping conditions of nearly freezing temperatures, so the following day, we aborted the national park's track and headed east toward the ocean and warmer conditions.

Chris had a mate in Huskisson, near Jervis Bay, so we hunkered down there for a couple nights, where we started the workout routine Chris introduced me to, where there were also hot showers and great company. We made it to Sydney shortly thereafter where we explored the Blue Mountains, another national park, and met up with some of my mates from work and my life in Manly, while we waited for Chris' friend Kyle to arrive.

We were nearing the end of June, as Chris, Kyle and I continued up the east coast of Australia. Fortunately, the temperature was much more suitable for van life and continued getting warmer the further north we drove. We all took turns driving, my skills were not as refined as they would be by the end, but I was working on it. Kyle drives a manual back in the States, so he was able to give some much-needed advice. My biggest challenge at this point was getting up a hill, just ask the boys. One morning I was bound and determined to get up a HILL! So, off I went, and I stalled, on attempts one and two, but the third time was a success. Chris exclaimed, as a proud dad might "HILL UNLOCKED!" as if we were in a video game. It was about time!

We avoided main roads as often as possible, we figured we would see more off the beaten path. We passed vineyards and pulled over in open fields or beside the sea for lunch, as we cruised along. Our biggest decisions pertained to where we should stop for the evening, or whether or not we should stop and check out the upcoming winery - to which the answer was yes more often than not. We played card games and chilled in the van some nights, other nights we went out, or the boys went out and in true grandma fashion, I stayed in. I can say with certainty that sleeping in a van for the better part of five weeks will truly make you appreciate the simple luxuries in life, as I mentioned in a previous post. Although this particular journey has concluded, there are many more to come. I will be forever grateful for this experience and for the friendships forged along the way.