One Hundred And Fifty Five To Brisbane
I moved toward the next stop as another distant name on the map became a real place under my feet.
The closer we got to familiar names on the map, the stranger the scale of the whole thing felt.
the next stop was where we were aiming, but the bigger feeling was that another distant name was becoming real under my feet.
The body was part of the route planning by then. Feet, shoes, soreness, sleep, food and timing all had a say in what was possible.
Most of the work was not dramatic. It was the repeatable stuff: get moving, keep eating, manage the body, and let the crew turn the finish into the next start.
By the end of the walking, I had banked another 42.5 kilometres, and the accumulated total sat at 4793.5 kilometres.
By then the finish was close enough to feel dangerous. I could sense it, but I still had to do the next ordinary piece properly.
Images From The Day
