Kokoda 2015 Day 1 + 2

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My heart was pounding like a sledge hammer inside my chest, and my pulse rate was over 100. My quad muscles in my legs were burning and I was saturated with sweat as I struggled up a ridiculously steep muddy incline. Traction in the slippery conditions made progress difficult. It seemed like this hill had no peak, just never ending false crests. I wanted to sit and get a brief rest to allow my pulse to recover but there was nowhere to stop and nothing but mud to sit in. I thought at that point I would never make this trip to the end.
That is how i felt on the first big hill we tackled on the trek. When I checked our progress on the map I discovered that the first hill was just a baby compared what lay ahead. I realized that this was a trip that would test me in many ways.

Prep day- 16th April

After arriving at Port Moresby we checked into our hotel around midday and grabbed a taxi cab to go down town to the Kokoda Track Authority office as we needed to pickup our trek permit. It was difficult to find as the office was tucked away in a second floor office complex and there were no signs to assist. I suspect that it is done that way on purpose to make it hard for private trekkers.
Next stop was a visit to the Bomana war cemetery where 3000 fallen diggers lay. It was well looked after and is maintained by the Australian war graves authority.
Ok, back to the hotel to pack our gear for the following day.

Day 1 - 17th April

We arranged a vehicle through the hotel to take us to Owers corner. We assumed that the hotel must do a lot of this kind of thing as locals they must know what they are doing so we were not overly concerned but a little surprised when we saw our transport. It was a regular sedan taxi that would take us to the drop off point. I got concerned when the driver said he had never been there. I Immediately turned on my GPS app to confirm that we were headed the right way. The total distance was about 40 km but it took nearly 3 hours due to the bad condition of the sealed road with large pot holes that resembled bomb craters.
Along the way we spotted a street stall selling eggs so we briefly stopped to buy 6 eggs for breakfast in the days ahead. I had bought a special crush-proof carry case for the eggs and also had a mini fry pan. I felt the eggs would provide a great source of protein.
We turned off the sealed road and continued for a further 16km on a dirt road. That's when the fun started. The recent rain made conditions for the 2 wheel drive taxi difficult to negotiate the large wash outs. The taxi continually bottomed out and dragged the undercarriage across the gravel road. Occasionally we hit a rock and the driver cursed and complained as he asked how much further. The GPS indicated slow progress but still better than walking he eventually said no more as he thought his taxi had suffered enough punishment and he would not take us any further. We stopped the vehicle just 800 meters from the track start point and watched the taxi drive off with his muffler dragging in the dirt. It was a pretty good effort and I'm pretty sure we would be the first trekkers ever to be crazy enough to get a taxi there. We chuckled as we walked the last bit to Owers corner as we approached we received many looks of disbelief. There were several local porters there waiting for another group to arrive. They wanted to know who are these 2 crazy characters walking in? The interest was also attracted by the KTA (Kokoda Track authority) ranger as he wandered over and started to give us the third degree. He was amazed that we are attempting this on our own."Why don't you have a porter?" Do you have a sat phone? First aid kit? Have you done this before? How did you get the permit? Etc etc. He did his best to convince us that we needed a porter and guide to help us but we managed to convince him that we were a solo act. We had to record the weight of our packs before getting the green light to go. This was a problem as he said the max allowable weight for a trekker was 25kg. Kris was relieved as he weighed his pack, it was just on 25kg. Mine was a shock 29kg as i was carrying the med kit (about 5kg) but the scary bit was that we were not carrying full water yet only 2 liters. With 4 liters of water I would be well over 30kg. The ranger was concerned and was busy making phone calls to KTA check up on us.

Eventually the ranger allowed us to depart on our journey into the unknown. We were keen to get going before he had a change of heart. "Quick let's get going before he comes back" - so we scampered into the jungle and our long journey had begun.
It wasn't long into the trek when I began feeling ill. I had been feeling a bit off for most of the day but it seemed to be getting worse. For the remainder of the day I struggled with nausea, vomiting and diarrhea and the effects of the Doxy tablets (for malaria) so it was not a good way to get started, I knew I had to fix myself fast so I self administered medications that I carried for such an occasion.
We only had a short walk on the first day as we arrived at the Good Water camp (Dump66) after about 3 hours. The camp was already full with large trekking groups but we managed to squeeze into a tiny space to set up our tents.
That night was not pleasant for me as I couldn't hold down dinner and the sickness continued. It seems I got a bug of sorts from the hotel at Port Moresby and probably from drinking a little tap water when I took my malaria pills. Rooky mistake.

Day 2 - April 18

The morning was busy in the camp everyone was up and at em before first light and keen to get started on the hills. We didn't have to wait long as we immediately started up the Golden Stairs toward the famous Imita ridge. (This was the last line defense for the Anzacs diggers, there would be no withdrawal from here. Either you stop the Japs or you die trying) I don't know why it has the name Golden Stairs because there is nothing golden about it, just miles of slippery brown mud. The climb for myself was very difficult as the combination of carrying a heavy pack with sickness and no food had made me feel very week so I continued to struggle with each painful step up the never ending steep hill.
I was about an hour from the top of the ridge taking a rest and I must have looked like I was about to die. A local guy stopped and offered his assistance to get me to the top. In my weakened condition I couldn't refuse as I needed every bit of energy to survive the next day. He was my own fuzzy wuzzy angel that came to my rescue but I felt guilty for letting someone else assist me so early in the trek. Walking that last part of the hill without the burden of a pack was a total relief and was very easy in comparison.

With difficulty we managed to arrive at the Ofi Creek camp site with about an hour of light left, we were soaked from the rain but it didn't seem to matter as we were soaked with sweat anyway. The camp was full of trekkers from the big tour operators so we scouted around to find space. A helpful trekker camping in a hut spotted us wondering around aimlessly and steered us in the right direction, as luck had it there was another empty hut that we quickly settled into. We were told that there were a few friendly mossies about so I decided to put up the hike tents inside the hut so that they would dry out from the previous night and we could use the tents as mossy nets. I still couldn't hold down food put I think Kris had my share. He was eating everything in site to get the weight of his back pack down. I spent 30 minutes stretching my aching body before hitting the rack exhausted and weary.

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Photos

Taxi to start
This taxi managed to get us 40 km down a 4WD track. Great effort

Owers corner arch
This is the start point of our journey through hell.

Inside Tents
Very comfortable night at Ofi Creek camp