Mt Warning


Sunday the 24th of January was a day which showed both one of my lowest and highest points in life. After the many stories of the few friends who wondered up the four and a half or so thousand steps of pain that is Mt Warning, we decided to give it a crack last weekend. As confident as I sounded the few Friday nights before talking to Ross about it, I had no idea how much trouble I was getting myself into.

We packed lunch early morning and what we thought a good supply of water and headed up Mt warning around 1030 or so. The drive down to warning was beautiful to say the least. Rolling green hills broken by great hanging cliffs followed the clear rocky rivers, so clear that schools of fish were visible. Happy spirits were presented mostly by myself and turned to silence only 400 meters up. Every step I took was a different one, changing between angles and heights and depths of the rock following. The path circled the mountain base endlessly and upon reaching the half way mark of 2.2 kilometers, it no longer was only physically demanding but mentally, it drained.

But powering on, step after step, lactic acid building with each stride, it wasn’t long after that thoughts of giving up were starting to creep into my head. I hated every person who came down past us. So much hope lost to effortless lies of those whom I trusted when they said we were nearly there.

15 minutes, 5 minutes; it took us nearly half an hour to finally reach what I thought was the end. Breaks in the canopy of endless rainforest showed exactly how high we really were with ribbons of light clouds swirling beneath us and tops of mountains, dark blue lakes and a continual platelet of green shades which coloured in between.
No longer is there shade from above of the fanned out leaves of ferns, but now, as the sun beat down on us, what lied ahead was the biggest challenge.

The last leg of the hike was 200 meters up which inclined more than 45 degrees at points. There was a chain to the right to help assist those heading up but I found crawling up on all fours was much more easier. When I finally reached the top, no energy to even walk, let alone take in the sights, I found a shady area under a bush and lied motionless for a few moments. Even the 4 or so ants which bit me everywhere didn’t move me. I stumbled over to where the gang was calling me to find a platform, with a nice up breeze to cool my tooshie I found a place to get some sleep. We took a few photos to prove we had made it and with a little sip of water and a feed on bacon and egg rolls, we headed back down, taking less than half the time it took to get up.


The day ended with a relaxing afternoon at Wooyung and a feed at Yatala pies on the way home. Such an experience it was and I’m glad to have gone through it because now I will never EVER do it again.


Maybe when I’m a little bit more fit, Maybe.

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''one who has no dreams has nothing''

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