The CrossingToward Norseman
Morning Tracks Toward Norseman
An early start and the pipeline tracks carried me to within about 21 kilometres of Norseman. Nothing dramatic happened; we were simply getting better at doing this every day.
Norseman was close enough to feel real. Close is relative when you’re walking across Australia; I still finished about 21 kilometres short. But the town was no longer hiding behind a list of other places. It was next.
We drove into Norseman to sleep and would resume from the finish point in the morning. The more interesting change was how the walking itself was starting to work.
I’d begun with the idea of four roughly even sessions because that sounded sensible before the trip. Ben watched what actually happened: I slowed in the second session, struggled to restart after lunch and then had to fight the final block. He came up with a better shape: 15 km, 10 km, 5 km, lunch, 12 km, 8 km and maybe another 5 km if time and body allowed.
It worked brilliantly. The shorter sessions gave me more chances to eat, drink, change socks, complain, reset and convince myself that the next bit was only the next bit.
Starting earlier helped too. Stupidly early, some mornings. Ben and Ols had to get up even earlier to sort porridge, toast, coffee, Tailwind, bottles and the rest of the chaos, but once I was moving they could often sleep while I did the first 15 kilometres.
Walking into sunrise felt completely different from dragging kilometres out of the dark after sunset. Same legs. Same country. Completely different mood.
Whenever there was no safer parallel track or verge, I walked or ran on the right of the highway, facing the traffic. I didn’t enjoy the few stretches where the layout forced me onto the left. Seeing what was coming was very different from knowing it might be behind me.
The C Y O’Connor pipeline tracks were little gifts: less traffic pressure, more bush, more birds and more room to think. Moving slowly also showed me how much rubbish people threw beside the highway or dumped in the bush.
Then a car stopped and someone called something like, “Are you Gary?” It was Bec Kuss, driving from Two Wells to Perth to judge at a cat show after her friend Fiona Cooper told her to look out for me.
Bec would appear twice more during HAA, but this first meeting did enough damage. She introduced me to FruChocs. They were delicious, and I’m still holding her personally responsible for the fact that I can’t resist one.
Images From The Day
