Papua Reprise

This past year has gone incredibly fast!  In fact as I sit here tonight preparing my weekly blog I'm reflecting back on the past two tumultuous years of my life and shaking my head.

TW behind the flag on the left - quite the crew from
Australia Kokoda Tours

Isn’t it strange how “one little decision can change the course of your life”.   Me wanting to document my preparation for Kokoda was a perfect example of this adage.   Leading up to my adventure in Papua New Guinea I’d never really written anything of consequence, certainly other creative outlets like my painting and sketching but never writing per see.  Then I felt as though I wanted to document my experiences especially for Zach & Sami, and literally take them along for the ride. 

This week I wanted to explore how close I really came to not finishing my hike in Papua New Guinea.   It all started when my dad passed away in February 2011 from a Glioblastoma Multiforme (brain tumor).  It was of the aggressive variety and so from initial diagnosis to his passing was six months almost to the day.

To help with my grieving and to do something positive in his memory I decided to hike across Papua New Guinea last November with my best mate Craig and in the process raise money for Cancer Research ($15,350).   Here we were, two mates hiking across one of the most isolated and inhospitable locations on the planet for the fun and adventure of it.  Living boyhood dreams. 

Such an adventure – you can read all about it in my initial blog - Kokoda Preparation which I published leading up to my departure and after my return last year.   In fact without the impetus to go do something in dad’s memory I probably would never have started writing a blog in the first place. 

Craig and TW - we made it!
Under the Arches at Owers Corner
(Papua New Guinea)
Nov 2012

In the weeks leading up to me leaving for Australia and Papua last November I somehow strained my Achilles heel, and remember having to get daily treatments literally up until and including the afternoon I boarded the plane.  I also remember sitting on that 24+ hour flight to Australia with that sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach thinking that perhaps I wasn’t fit enough to embark on the hike.  

In retrospect you have to think that a large part of the Achilles injury was mental, and provided me a way out (subconsciously) if I really wanted it.   Mysterious how the mind works but I wouldn’t at all be surprised that my injury was more mental than physical.  


The strain to my Achilles felt very real and at times painful.  As I limped along that first afternoon from Kokoda toward the distant village of Deniki in the hot afternoon sun I fell further and further behind the main group.  Then and there it became obvious that the only way out of this predicament was to put "one foot in front of the other" and walk my way out. 

I had to “steel my mind” to quote Sherlock Holmes and find a way to just do it and keep going forward.   There could be no excuses or no complaining, in fact if anyone asked how my Achilles was I’d say it was fine and move the conversation onto another topic.  Each morning when I woke at 4:30 am and began my morning ritual of checking for blisters and hot spots then tapping my feet I mentally prepared myself.   “One foot in front of the other” became my mantra, finding an early rhythm with my walking poles each day while admiring the sheer beauty of the mountainous countryside surrounding me on every side.  This took my mind off the aches and pains as I walked.

I remember catching myself thinking that I was blessed to be here at that very moment in time, healthy enough to undertake the adventure and pay my respects to my dad who squarely looked his mortality in the eye and confronted it – day after day, knowing that he didn’t have much time left.   How could I not be moved by the emotions that coursed through my body while on the Kokoda track?   

Some nights as I wrote my journal my eyes would mist up when I thought of my dad and how I wished we could have done something like this before he died.

TW on the last day - happy to have accomplished
the goal of completing the Kokoda Track but sad
that it was ending...

With each passing day I felt a little stronger and more confident of finishing this arduous trek across the mountains of Papua on my terms.  I wanted to hold my head up high and say that I’d conquered the Kokoda track (although still not convinced that you ever actually conquer the track, its more like survive the track).  Now that was something to be proud of…for dad and for me.  

Dad definitely would have thought I was mad to even attempt it, and perhaps in hindsight (isn’t it wonderful?) if I’d known how mentally and physically demanding it was going to be (the hardest thing I’ve ever done – no question) that I would definitely would have had second thoughts.  :-)  

It all comes back to the mental aspect of tackling something of this magnitude and that's the most difficult thing to overcome.  Was it sheer grit that got me through, my stubbornness or perhaps even my single-mindedness? 

Each day as I hiked I had upwards of 8 hours to think and reflect, mostly about my life, my relationships, my aspirations and most of all my happiness in fine detail.  This alone time really started me down the path that has gotten me to where I am today.

All I know is that I found my confidence again somewhere out there on the track and it’s irrevocably changed my life forever.