Day 6 - Templeton's Crossing #2 > Kokoda Gap > Big Myola > Bomber Camp

I woke last night at 1:00AM - really hot. Then I drifted off to sleep again, but had a series of the most bizarre dreams, which kept me waking and drifting until the alarm went off at 5:15AM. I wasn't going to wait for the 5:30 cooee call, and risk holding people up.

On waking, my stomach was really not right. I packed quickly, got dressed into my sweaty but dry clothes, put some more tape on my foot (this time on the heel which was starting to show signs of a hot spot), and got out of my tent. Then it hit me. I HAD to go to the loo - and quickly. Now, what happened in the loo wasn't pretty. If you don't want to read about how a bloke with the squirts deals with going to a loo which is just a 10cm x 30cm hole in the ground, then skip the next paragraph...

There is something not so glamorous about having the runs when you are wearing skins.
You rush to the dunny - which you discover is a hole in the ground about 10cm x 30cm.
Taking careful aim, hoping the poop doesn't run down your legs into your skins, you relax your butt cheeks.
Nothing happens.
So you give a little squeeze.
The toilet cubicle only has three sides, and sits among 4 others, close together.
Your bum is pointing towards the door.
Just as you squeeze, one of the porters comes looking for a vacant loo - and is staring straight at your straining behind.
Then, all hell breaks loose, as the pent up runs are released.
You miss the hole by about a metre, and almost splash the porters bare feet.
But the only way you know he is there is because of the shout of terror you hear as you just miss him.
You don't care.
The blessed release of letting go.
You then re-aim the constant stream, trying to hit the hole.
You overcorrect, and just miss your skins and your only pair of pants.
As the stream recedes, you are careful to lift your butt that little bit higher, hoping against all odds that those last few drops don't land in your waiting pants.
You look down. Then realise.....
It's finished. But it takes 20 wipes to get your butt clean - and you only brought one roll of dunny paper with you.
You hope against hope that this doesn't continue for another day...

After the blessed relief of the loo, breakfast went down a treat. I was feeling quite a bit better, which was good, because at the briefing we discovered that today we would be climbing to the highest point on the track - through the Kokoda Gap and past Mt Bellamy.

So, no surprises, it was uphill, then uphill, and uphill some more. We started the day at an elevation of 5,800 feet, and climbed to 7,300 feet before lunch. It actually wasn't too bad. I was tired, but not exhausted. I wasn't sore at all. And my tummy, though still churning a little, was much better than it had been for the last couple of days. Unfortunately, the same couldn't be said of Sam. He was really suffering all morning, and at lunch only had a tiny serving. He looked a little pale as well. Alex too has started looking a little sad, and has been making some small comments that make me wonder if he is finding the going a little harder. His stomach has been churning like mine for a couple of days. And Catherine is all bright a chirpy, but I get the feeling she is putting it on a little so that she doesn't bring the group down. Paul, the oldest of the group, is going like a champion. Though he doesn't ever look the best in the mornings.

Anyway, I was feeling ok at lunch on the edge of Big Myola. Even better when we were told we could leave the packs where they were while we walked across the "lake" to Myola Guesthouse, then on to have a look at a crashed American P40 Kittyhawk fighter. Sam was feeling pretty crook, so instead of the excursion, he went with some of the porters on to the nights camp at Bomber Camp.

The lake bed of Big Myola (or Myola 1 as it is sometimes called) is on old volcanic crater. It is funny the way that the jungle grows down to a certain level on the edge, then just stops, and is replaced by grasses and reeds. It had been raining all day, and as a result the lake bed was a little wet. By that I mean that we sunk to our ankles in stinking, black, slimy mud with every step we took. I was happy to have brought the ankle gaiters with me - I would have hated to see inside my boots otherwise.

We finally got to the other side of the lake, and arrived at Myola Guesthouse. One of the buildings had recently burnt down. We were told that it was accidentally burnt down by the porters from Adventure Kokoda. Oops. We are also told here that they were expecting us to camp there for the night. Apparently our schedule was different to what Peter had been given. Bugger. They even had a 44 gallon drum of water heating for a shower - which would have been great after a day of walking in the rain! Instead, Peter paid them the camp fees for the night, and we went on to see the plane.

It was a huge engine, with props buried in the dirt. 6 machine guns were still visible - some with live ammo still ready to fire. The rest of it was a shredded mess - you can even still see pieces of the shattered perspex windshield lying amongst the wreckage...

After the fighter, we headed back across the lake. It was getting late, but thankfully the rain was easing. However, we picked up the pace and got back to the edge of the lake where our packs and porters were and had a quick afternoon tea. Then put the wet, muddy pack back on, and headed off to Bomber Camp, which we got to at 5:10PM in the rain.

With the mud everywhere, I decided that I might as well have a wash in the creek, and wash out the clothes. The black, clinging mud was nearly impossible to get out of the clothes - I stood in the creek for almost 30 minutes trying to get the clothes and myself clean. It didn't help when the boys told us to be careful, as the water was polluted by toilets upstream. Ah well - better to wash in pooey water than have it in your pants I suppose.

Bomber Camp itself was really beautiful. There were all sorts of flowers planted expertly, as though the place had been designed by an award winning garden designer from Sydney. And, thankfully, the pit toilets had the green barrels for seats - I never thought I'd be so happy to see them!

As soon as I finished washing in the fast fading light, the rain stopped. But, with the amount of rain during the day, there wasn't a lot of wood, so there was no chance of getting the clothes remotely dry. Sam went to bed before 6:00PM, without dinner. By 7:00, we heard a terrible heaving sound coming from inside his tent. Yep, he had a big spew. Then a couple more for good measure. Paul rushed to his aid. We were pleased to hear that Sam had a plastic bag ready, so the inside of his tent didn't look like this mornings loo. Sam got up with a bit more colour, saying that he now felt much better. Hope he still is in the morning!

We were all in bed by 8:00, once again listening to the sound of rain on the tent. It seems a bit colder tonight, so I've done the hood up a bit - will put on the thermals during the night if I need to.

Day 5 - Abuari Village > Eora Creek > Templetons Crossing #2

At last! A night without a cricked neck and sore shoulders! The new pillow worked. Soft enough to be comfortable. High enough to have the head level with the body. And with enough give that the head didn't roll off every time I moved. It was heaven!!

Until 3:40AM that was. Because it was at that time that the damned roosters decided to start having a chat with one another. There was one rooster at the top of the village. One at the bottom of the village. And one in the middle of the village. One would crow. Another would answer. The third would respond to the first two. And then they would do it all over again. And again. And again...

I dozed till 4:40, then got up for a wee. What is is with having to do a wee this early in the morning? It is starting to annoy me. Sure, I'm drinking about 3 litres of water plus 1 litre of 1/2 strength Gatorade every day, but I'm sweating most of it out. Dozed again till 5:25, trying not to listen to the roosters, then decided I'd had enough and might as well start packing. Not happy this morning. My gut is really churning. I'm tired. And I have some hot spots on my feet. Not yet blisters, but if I don't do something, they will be soon.

Went through the usual caper of smothering with Canisten Cream. Then got some strapping tape and wrapped it around the bottom of my foot, in order to cover my little toe and the hot spot on it. Did it wrong, and had to start again. Damn I'm cranky this morning!

Late to breakfast, despite my earlier start. I'll have to wake up earlier tomorrow so I don't hold everyone up. Had a small bowl of muesli - but the gut didn't want it. No fruit. No coffee. Others are ready and I'm not. Mixed the Gatorade - I think I'll really need that today. A briefing - looks like an easy day - thank goodness for that.

Then, what a way to start. Downhill for quite some time. Not too steep. Going at a really good pace. The air is cool - we headed off before 7:00AM - and these days of walking are now starting to become second nature. Funny thing I'm noticing in the morning is that my pack seems to be lighter than it is at night. Silly, because in the morning it is 4kg heavier, with full water bottles. I mention this to Alex. He kind of grunts as though I'm a nut case. I probably am. Gut is still churning...

After the great downhill, we arrive at Eora Creek for a very early morning tea. I take off the pack, and it is steaming! I've also got steam pouring off my back. I've started to notice that I am prone to sweating much more than the others. Alex doesn't seem to sweat at all. Peter does a bit - but not much. Paul and Sam - yeah, they sweat, but not as much as me. Catherine? Well, I saw her with a makeup compact this morning, and asked her if she was putting on makeup. She growled at me that of course she wasn't (I later realised it was a bit of pimple cream), so I've steered clear of her so far.

Anyway, a quick morning tea, then we left the packs with the boys, and headed over the creek to have a look at the Japanese defensive positions. It is so steep, and the Japs were so well dug in, there is no way I can imagine the diggers being able to dislodge them from in front. We climbed to the top of their defensive position, to where they had the mountain gun set up. You can still see the track dug out where they wheeled it in and out of the bushes. Looking from there straight across the valley at the Aussie positions, they would have been sitting ducks. Poor buggers.

Back down and across the creek, picked up the pack, and of course, the next section was uphill. A long climb. A really steep climb. We kept on climbing for an hour and a half. With the churning gut, it wasn't much fun. Would have been a lot worse if we had Japs shooting at us though. But the slow pace suited me well - and though it wasn't a struggle, I was still happy to arrive at the top and stop for lunch. Lunch was the usual pasta, spam, cheese and meat (what is that meat? Looks like cat food!), washed down with a cup of tea and a pack of 4 Oreo type biscuits. I had seconds of pasta/meat - but really shouldn't have. Felt a bit crook.

After lunch was an easy walk - a bit flat. A bit up. A bit down. And after only an hour, we arrived at our camp for the night at Templeton's Crossing #2. It's a bit of a misnomer - because there is no crossing here. The campsite is right on the side of the river, but I don't feel like going for a swim / wash.

All the others went down to the river to have a wash / swim. I just feel like being alone for a while. A little crook. Still a little cranky. The others each have someone to talk to. I suppose I'm feeling sorry for myself. Big girls blouse I am. So I write in my diary. Put some dry clothes on. Have a lie down.

Everyone came back from the creek and set themselves up in the drying hut to smoke their clothes. I didn't feel like chatting, so decided to go for a wash. The sun had disappeared, and dark clouds were coming in. Catherine has been saying for the last day or so that she hopes that it will rain, so she can experience the full deal. I kind of know how she feels, but I'd be just as happy to do without it.

The water was FREEZING! I really had trouble putting my head under. I had a quick rinse. Put the dry clothes back on. Peter suggested that it was better to have dry sweaty clothes rather than wet cleaner clothes. It suited me tonight, so I just hung my clothes up to air.

It became pretty cool - I figured that I might need my thermals tonight. I don't know how Alex and Catherine managed to have a full wash with soap and all this afternoon.

And then our first dummy spit of the trip. Hehe. I wondered when it would happen. I bit mean of me to be thinking this way. Especially when it was my fault. Catherine was whinging about being cold. Peter had told her to take a cement pill and harden up. Alex suggested that she should put some socks on. She refused - she might get them dirty for goodness sake! It was too much for me. I pointed out that she should put socks and a beanie on - as they were the two places that would let in the cold/let out the heat the most. She refused. Alex agreed. I pushed some more. Catherine spat the dummy and stormed off. Everyone went quiet. I felt really bad. Catherine came back 5 minutes later with socks and a beanie on. She seemed fine - I don't really believe it. Alex was great with her. Everyone acted as though nothing had happened.

It started raining after dinner. Not too heavy, thank goodness. I suppose we will find out overnight how good the waterproofing is in these new tents. The top seems fine, but I have condensation on my plastic bag every morning where it has been sitting on the floor of the tent. A bit of a worry.

The usual dinner. Everyone is chatty again. I'm not. Gut still churning. Feeling exhausted. In bed by 7:15PM. The sound of the river is really peaceful. I can hear the boys laughing in their hut. People in the drying hut speaking softly. Rain on the tent. I'm cold, so draw the hood of the sleeping bag up, and with my new pillow working wonders, drift off to sleep thinking that my kids at home are not yet in bed...