The Thinking Drinking Man Goes Hiking

I picked the car up from Budget at about 1:00 pm in the afternoon, 4 hours later than I wanted too because I woke up feeling like death because I was still under the weather, so I ended up sleeping in. I picked up Brooks, Justin, and Summer, and we headed out of Adelaide to the Outback. I drove out of the city, and then let Brooks drive because the drugs were kicking in and within moments I was passed out in the car. It was the good kind of car sleep. I mean, the kind of sleep where you close you eyes, then open them and you are there. My face was plastered up against the window, my mouth was open, and I am sure that I was drooling. Considering that we were in a Toyota Yaris, which is roughly the size of my desk, I was amazingly comfortable all squished up in my seat.

By the time we got to what is considered the Outback, which took about 5 hours, I was wide awake and enjoying the scenery. It was absolutely beautiful. It was dusk and the colors were amazing. Purples, reds, and blues filled the sky and the setting sun seemed to dance across the mountains in the distance. It was truly surreal. In certain areas, it was so flat that you could see for miles and one side would be a vibrant green with vegetation everywhere, and the other was the famous red earth that everyone associates with the outback. Since it was so flat, over time Mother Nature had carved rivers every few kilometers as natural run offs for rain, and instead of having to build a lot of bridges; they just let the road just slowly dip down into the river. When you came to these crossings, you could look both ways and see the dry riverbeds. The signs would say “Flood Path Ahead” and “Cross at Own Risk”. In other words, if it started raining, those areas of the highway that dipped down would turn into a ragging river, and because our Yaris has the ground clearance of a three year olds tricycle, we would be stuck having to wait it out.

We were about an hour away from Wilpena Pound, when we started seeing sheep everywhere. There were no fences on the side of the road and we passed a sign that said “Free Range Grazing Next 10 Kilometers”. There were sheep just running across the road. Then all of a sudden “Bam!” I felt something hit the front of the car and I saw a cloud of vibrant colors and just as soon as it happened it was over. Brooks was doing about 120 kilometers an hour, which was the speed limit, and the event scared the hell out of him. I thought we hit a sheep. A red, purple, and yellow sheep. We are in the Outback, you never know.

We immediately stopped the car and I got out to check the front bumper. There was no dent, so either this sheep was nothing bur fur, or we hit something else. “A bloody Parrot” shouted Brooks. He was about 100 yards behind the car on one knee looking at the ground. There was a mass of feathers scattered about and the remains of a parrot. I kind of felt bad. Parrots are cool. If it was sheep, I would not have given a damn. Sheep seem to be pretty stupid. But a parrot, that is a beautiful bird. It is kind of like hitting a dolphin in a boat. No one wants to hurt Flipper. Brooks and I gathered up the Parrot, or at least what we could, and we dug him a little hole on the side of the road. Justin didn’t care. He was drinking beer and attempting to catch and ride a sheep. He has this weird love for sheep. Summer hadn’t even gotten out of the car. Brooks and I covered the hole with some rocks, wished the Parrot a good journey to bird heaven or wherever parrots go when they die, then we got back in the car and headed to Wilpena Pound.

We arrived at the resort around 8:30 that night. I was getting hungry and decided to make my way to the restaurant. I took one glance at the specials and I saw the "Australian Burger" . I swear I heard music from the angels of heaven and a bright ray of sunshine came down and illuminated the cheap plastic board that was displaying the specials. I had to have it. An hour and a half later and at least three pounds heavier I was the happiest person in the world. I was full, sleepy, and it started to rain. Bed time.

The next day we got up at about 8:00 am in the morning; I had really been up since 6:00 am because of the rain. I made my way into the restaurant at the Wilpena Pound Resort and got a good hardy breakfast and hydrated myself for the adventure I was about to embark on. We were hiking Saint Mary’s Peak today. Everyone at the park advised us against it because it was raining and could become dangerous, but we had driven all the way here mainly to hike Saint Mary’s, so we were doing it come hell or high water. High water did us in. There are two routes to the top, the easy route which takes you through the middle of Wilpena Pound and gradually up the mountain, 13.4 k’s, and the hard route which takes you right up the side of the mountain, 7.4 k’s. We are manly men; we are doing the hard route. We made it about 2 k’s when it started to pour down rain. Summer had had enough and took the keys and headed back. Justin, Brooks and I trekked on.

Everyone stressed the point that it was a pretty strenuous hike and when wet, it can be dangerous. Holy Hell. At points, I was literally climbing vertically up a rock face. I was in my New Balances, not quite hiking shoes, and by blue jeans were so wet that they were constricting my movements, not to mention rubbing in areas that are truly uncomfortable. Thankfully, it was really cloudy so I had no concept of how high I was, in a way masking the danger of hiking a mountain in the cold rain without the proper gear with thousand foot vertical drops off one side. It took us about 3 full hours to get to the top, and we spent maybe 10 minutes there at most. I have never been to Mount Everest, but I know it has to be really cold and windy. The peak of Saint Mary’s was colder than hell, more so because I was soaked, and at times there may have been 40+ mph gusts. There was 20 feet of visibility at most and all you could see in all directions was whiteness from the clouds and mist.

We were all miserable and it was unanimous to get off the top of the mountain and head back down. We ended up getting lost several times due to poor visibility and somehow we ended up taking the long route back. It was far easier, but that was quickly counterbalanced by the issue I had “down below”. I had already started the stiff man bow-legged walk as I like to call it. I was taking smaller strides because my feet were so far apart and I tried to keep from bending my knees to keep my jeans from rubbing. I continued this for about two hours and when I saw a sign that said 7.4 kilometers to Wilpena Pound Resort, I realized that I was going to be a hurting puppy later that night if I didn’t do something quick. I had the answer. It was a lot warmer once off the mountain, the rain had stopped, and the wind had calmed down a lot, so I just took of my pants.

We showed up at the park at about 4:45 pm looking like wet dogs, covered in mud, and I was in wearing my pink Tommy Hilfiger boxers, a rain coat, and my now brown New Balances. I did not care. All I wanted was a Coke and a hot shower. One hell of a day.

Thinking Drinking Man Lessons

1. Never turn down the Australian burger.
2. When hiking, make sure to wear comfortable clothes because if you get lost and end up walking half way around the world, you do not want a rash