While there are many reasons to embark on a long journey, common themes among long distance hikers are adventure and freedom. Once you have a taste for it, it gets under your skin and has you searching for the next opportunity.
For Sim, the Camino de Santiago ignited an enduring passion for trekking about a decade ago and you can almost feel the warmth of the Spanish sun on your face as he regales you with an anecdote from his time on this legendary pilgrimage trail.
For both of us, hiking the Nakahechi and Kohechi routes of Japan’s Kumano Kodo in 2018 – sister pilgrimage to the Camino de Santiago – was a transformative experience. The rugged mountains, dim forests, ancient shrines and traditional inns built around natural hot springs now occupy permanent mental real-estate.
In 2018, I was also fortunate enough to hike the West Highland Way in Scotland, walking from Milngavie (‘Mul – guy’) outside of Glasgow to Fort William which sits in the shadow of Ben Nevis. As my family is Scottish, this trek had personal resonance and listening to the local brogue everywhere I went felt like I was sitting at my grandparents kitchen table again. Witnessing the dramatic grandeur of Loch Lomond, Rannoch Moor and Glen Coe gave me some small insight into my heritage through a better understanding of the landscapes they came from.
Sim and I had intended to return to Japan in 2020 and again hike the Kumano Kodo, this time also completing the Iseji route. Our plans, like so many others, were stymied by the COVID-19 pandemic.
In South Australia we were fortunate to avoid the worst impacts of the pandemic and, once the State emerged from isolation, I spent considerable time hiking the Mount Lofty Ranges and walked a section of the Heysen Trail between Victor Harbor and Bridgewater in 2021 (where it poured and blew a gale for three of the four days I was on trail!).
Having read and watched accounts of through-hikers walking the Appalachian, Pacific Crest and Continental Divide Trails in the US, I became fixated by the idea of a long distance trek with all of its opportunities and challenges.
With the world still returning to normal after the pandemic, it made sense to look in our own backyard.
Through the hard work of Terry Lavender OAM, architect and builder of the Heysen Trail; and the exceptional efforts of the Friends of the Heysen Trail, the Department of Environment and Water and many volunteer walking groups, South Australia has the longest dedicated walking trail in the nation.
As we are heading southbound (or ‘SOBO’ in hiker speak), we will begin in the desert and progress from the empty wilds of the north toward civilisation.
While it is easy to be swept up in romantic notions of the wilderness, realism is critical. This difficult undertaking will require careful planning, training and resilience.
Unlike past experiences, there will be long stretches without support, living off dehydrated meals and having to carry everything we need – food, shelter, clothing and medicine.
So why do it?
An enduring feature of our friendship is being able to float borderline crazy notions that more often than not become a reality.
We are fortunate to both have a window of time, providing a rare opportunity to undertake something epic before the prosaic demands of living see us return to a more ordinary routine.
The logistical, physical and psychological challenge of through-hiking the Heysen is a major attraction and offers the potential for significant personal development. As a Type 1 diabetic, this hike presents an additional logistical challenge as well as an opportunity to demonstrate that a chronic health condition is entirely surmountable.
Alongside this we hope to raise awareness for the Friends of the Heysen Trail and money for Diabetes SA, two incredibly worthy organisations whose work we have both benefited from.
Despite living in South Australia for the majority of my life, I’ve never visited the Flinders Ranges, the inspiration for many of Sir Hans Heysen’s iconic landscape paintings. This is an incredible opportunity to exist in those landscapes for a time, experiencing their harshness and natural beauty first-hand.
In every ‘long distance’ hike I have undertaken, there has been a day where the reality of being in the world has struck me. The vastness of the landscape and the indifference of the elements gifts one a perspective that is not otherwise easily found.
Amidst all of these ‘whys’ there is also the simple fact that life is short and we are just passing through so why not do something amazing?