Day 5 - Cowombat Flats to Limestone Creek

The morning air at Cowombat Flats was cold and our tent did not have time to dry as we set off, aiming to reach Bully Creek by afternoon. As always, I kept thinking, “Will we find water?” The map promised an abundance of creeks, but the dry, crackling bush around us told another story.

The trail unfolded with relentless ascents, testing every ounce of our patience. Much to our surprise, we met Ron and Jill, two hikers along the way. Their lighter packs immediately caught my attention! How much food do you carry?” I asked them almost accusingly and I had to stop myself from interrogating the interior of their packs. Their answer was simple, they’d pre-placed food boxes in the national park. Brilliant, yet... I couldn’t help but feel that driving the trail with a 4WD beforehand stole a bit of the adventure's surprise. Still, I couldn’t deny my envy; I even kept a hopeful eye out for one of their hidden stashes, although they reassured me it would take a GPS to uncover them.

Hours later, we crossed paths with Cam, a man who practically embodied the spirit of the wilderness. He strutted down the trail with such ease, only holding one trekking pole and his pack was even smaller than Ron and Jill’s. To my amazement, it carried not only essentials but also a chair and an umbrella! Cam had been hiking for 30 days, relying on food drops from friends every five days. Cam had so much advice to give and his eyes were full of life!

Meeting fellow adventurers like Cam reminded me how hiking is as much about the people you encounter as it is about the journey and I really wanted Cy to encounter different people and lifestyles as the city often presents a very narrow view of living.

We reached Bully Creek - it was completely dry. This meant pushing forward to Limestone Creek, doubling the distance. This is where my husband would say I have become a potty mouth…

By the time we reached the steep descent to Limestone Creek Road, we were so exhausted. It’s those moments where Cy and I would stop talking, we had rationed our water and felt so thirsty.

I was so scared descending the steep gravel, that I resorted to sliding down my bottom. That really hurt! Cy was the hero that day as he clambered down the mountain with his pack first, then climbing back up to get my pack and reassuring me.

Night had fallen by the time we reached Limestone Creek, and relief turned to unease when we spotted two 4WDs parked near our intended camp. Bracing myself, I approached the campers, unsure what kind of reception we might get. To my surprise, they welcomed us warmly, offering advice, sharing some toilet paper, and even taking our rubbish with them.

One of them, Chris, was a pleasure to chat with, and their kindness was a reminder of the generosity often found in the most unexpected places if you are open to it.

After setting up camp, a shallow wash in the creek restored a bit of our spirits. But the night held one last surprise. As we were settling for sleep, suddenly the ground started shaking and we heard the galloping of a large herd of brumbies! I was so concerned at the thought of them tangling with our tent ropes, but they galloped past us without us dragging behind them.

In the morning, I am an early riser, I got the pleasure of another glimpse of the wild horses. Around twenty brumbies, including foals, moved gracefully toward the safety of the dense forest, a picture of freedom and I felt a twinge in my stomach thinking that these majestic creatures and their population are “controlled”. I did not have my camera but I will always remember that feeling of seeing these horses in the wild.

This hike, like all great adventures, was a mixture of trials, triumphs, and unforgettable encounters. Each step, whether uphill or sliding downhill, brought its own reward, and while in the moment it was so hard, I look back and feel so grateful for our experiences.