Day 3 was meant to be the Slog Day. 15 kilometres of uphill struggle as we climb higher and higher through the Black Range.
But as it turned out, none of us knew how to read a topological map. We had managed to do the steepest, hardest part of the trek on Tuesday when we decided to push on past our designated campsite and get some extra miles under our feet. What was left of Day 3 was simply to finish the climb to the top of the Black Range, and from there on, it was a pleasant walk in the woods and then a slight descent to the Black Range campground. The track was flat and wide, the walk was cool and shady, we came across numerous other hikers and bikers taking their ANZAC Day long weekend in the mountains.
And the best part? We managed to arrive at our campground at just past 11:30AM.
Say WHUT? Another 5 hours of daylight and sun? Not having to cook in near darkness? Or carry 15kg packs up a hill in the sweltering midday sun?
OH THE LUXURY.
Needless to say, we spent the rest of the day at our campground, doing yoga in the sun on our sleeping mats, reading, listening to music, and just generally chilling. Not having to walk til dusk felt like the most amazing prize for blood sweat and tears on the day before.
xx doots
View from top of the Black Range.
Mountain biker we came across.
Random pine plantation we walked past.
Our campsite.
My trusty little hiking boots. 4 days. 45 kilometres. NO BLISTERS.
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