GODZone 2017 - NZ Trundlers Race Report
Trundle
verb: (used with object), trundled, trundling. to cause (a circular object) to roll along; roll. Often used in an alpine sense to describe the act of ‘Trundling’ large boulders off mountainsides.
noun: trundle; plural noun: trundles an act of moving slowly or heavily.
It is rather ironic that both definitions aptly described our GODZone adventure up, over and around Queenstown and Lake Wakatipu. The verb definition eventually bringing our later half race ‘sprint’ finish to be cut short.
It had been six years since I had competed in an expedition race, in Cairns 2010. I had watched GODZone over the past years with mixed emotions and finally, with some seed planting from workmate and team motivator Craig ‘Coxy’ Cox, had agreed to have another crack. Our goal was to finish the ‘Full course’ and it is with mixed emotions that I write this as circumstances beyond our control eventually led to a shortened final trek to the finish.
Preparations for the race had been limited. As ever family and work commitments meant neither Coxy nor I had got out for any missions longer than 12hrs, and none as a team of four. Janet ‘Musky’ Musker had been invited to join and I was pleased to have some more experience and another capable navigator on the team. Tim ‘Sicman’ Sikma joined in the last week to round out the team and provide a safe pair of hands as lead on the maps.
Our race team number, 26, I took as a good omen, the same number I had raced under in Cairns 2010. Tim questioned this logic given we had been short coursed 6 years ago, but I had a good feeling about this one and with summer finally arriving in South Island it looked like this was our time.
The start was the usual mix of anxious nerves. As we prepared our feet and gear in the early morning hours Tim set out the rules for no double dipping when applying Gurney Goo. Little did we know at the time but Coxy was cutting the label off a brand new pair of Blue Seventy knicks, a very ballsy move! 
We started and a short jog around the Queenstown waterfront led to a procession of teams up the hill towards an old dam and upwards towards Ben Lomond. Tim quickly showed his caliber and nailed the first checkpoint amongst the confusion and hustle of other teams. The short trek sidled around to the top of skyline and we were off on our MTB down ‘Harry’s’ pleased to be on a green downhill run. The track begged us to let loose but the loaded bikes and long journey ahead kept our speed under control and wheels, mostly, on the ground. Musky was struggling with a cold so we made some light use of the tow to keep the team moving as one up towards Queenstown Hill. We were making steady progress and while pushing bikes up some steep tracks were pleased to pass a mid pack team or two. Looking back we were puzzled to see Richard Usher at the side of the track, obviously not tracking well, we were not going that fast.
Tic tac toe’ing with Viv and Guy’s team, ‘Squashed Banana’s’, we relished the fast downhill to the Shotover river. A sharp transition and onto the boats with Coxy and I in the Barracuda and Sicman and Musky in the inflatable. Paddling was never my strong point and a single 15km paddle in training meant the team had little confidence in my paddling prowess. We made short work of the river and as we cruised through the small rapids my confidence crew. Granted Coxy and I hardly had to paddle to keep pace with the inflatable and once we joined the Kawarau we setup a tow to assist the slow inflatable.
A good ole hike a kayak, and a forgetful brain saw 3 laps, fartlek training, up the small hill to the TA and then we were off Gorgeering up the Arrow River, keeping an eye out for gold nuggets along the way. We avoided the swim as Tim tackled the V2 boulder problem to traverse into CP6, feeling rather smug.
A quick transition and we strode out along the Millenium walkway and towards Arrowtown only to arrive at Patagonia Ice Cream 10 minutes after closing time. Musky was gutted so we promised to return after the race. The first real route choice of the event presented and after a quick huddle we agreed to race the sunset and take a direct route up the spur to Brow Peak. My head was not yet in the maps and as we moved well along the Bush Creek trail Tim chuckled at my temporary geographical misplacement! We were moving slowly but steadily up the spur and as the rain cleared we were greeted to an inversion below and deer on the mid slopes. Darkness fell as we descended and Tim rolled an ankle on the uneven descent reminding us to take it easy on the steep uneven ground. Below and in the distance team lights could be seen in Coronet Creek and Spur’s on either side as we converged on the CP.
Once in Deep creek we stumbled across a four lane super highway grateful for the leading teams and make quick progress down the southern slopes of the creek into the early hours of the morning. In true AR fashion the easy terrain quickly turned to a nightmare of steep creeks and dense bush bashing which combined with tiredness led to uncertainty on our location. We struggled through the creek, which creek I am still unsure! only to find the route impassable, blocked by a waterfall. Viv and Guy’s experienced team were also perplexed and together we pulled ourselves up steep tussock to the Northern slopes of Deep Creek to find flatter ground. With little features at night to get a bearing we decided to bank 2 hours sleep and wait till dawn before re- orientating ourselves for a morning attack on the tricky CP9.
A clear cold dawn light showed we were still 500m short of where we thought but we quickly found a water-race and saddle to descend to CP9 on easy ground before the final canyon like section of Deep Creek to the Skipper Canyon. Musky was nervous about the abseil and walking across Skippers bridge gave ample time to dwell on the size of the abseil as we trundled up Skippers Creek, up a stunning tussock ridgeline towards HP1333 and then down towards Branches on the second half of the trek. Sicman had been infected with ‘Man flu’ so we off- loaded the tent to Coxy who was charging at this point. The steep terrain down from the High point made for some tricky route choices and we struggled to find a safe route down through the bluffs as we dropped off the East side of the spur. Returning to the ridge a route down the NE spur became obvious and we dropped to the Shotover river and Branches for a quick transition onto the canoes. We had 1hr to reach the old Strohles hut and paddled hard down the fun Grade 2 rapids just spotting the hut in time as the dark zone fell at 8.30pm. We were joined by the Morrison Cars Team and enjoyed a surreal dinner and rest in the hut, hopeful that the full nights rest would give Sicman an opportunity to recover.
As dawn broke we hit the water bang on 6.45am as the dark zone lifted, aware there would be a dozen or more teams behind us chasing us down from the TA and keen to get to the abseil first to avoid que’s. We paddled hard to keep warm. This was a great section of the race and was pure Type 1 fun. Coxy steered some great lines and we avoided all the main holes and obstacles as we charged for Skippers Bridge and the Mesh Bag Trek. We had already heard rumours of how tough this next section would be but on arrival were relieved to hear the Mesh bags were no longer to be hauled over the trek, our luck was changing. The thought of bush bashing up a steep Matagouri bluff dragging a 20kg mesh bag held little appeal.
It was cold at Skippers bridge which was still in shade so we jogged up the hill to keep warm. There was no wait for the abseil so with no time for procrastination we were abseiling down to the canyon below. Musky’s fears were pushed to one side and before long we were swimming downstream back to the TA for a quick transition onto the trek.
Without the mesh bag the short trek from Skippers bridge to the start of the Raft was enjoyable with easy Navigation in the daylight. Well rested we made good time and with Sicman on the mend we focused on the immediate stages, aware that the full course cutoff was looming. We were passed on the way by a familiar team, Richard Usher had withdrawn and in his place strolled Steve Gurney in shorts and T-shirt carrying only a 500ml bottle of water, just an afternoon stroll eh Steve!
We dropped to the Raft put-in and the first real river crossing greeted us. Linking arms we made short work of the swiftly flowing river aware there were presumably class 4 rapids downstream. A big tick of approval from race officials and a laugh at some other team’s river crossing etiquette and we were quickly off down river with guide and raft to navigate the rapids. We were in good spirits and chatting away to the guide were keen to challenge some of the faster times down this section of whitewater. Again another pure Type 1 fun stage, were we in an expedition race and having fun. I’d had a bad experience on the Zambezi river years before so was always the first to ‘get down’ at the first sign of a command from the guide, much to the amusement of the team.
We were looking forward to seeing our MTB’s and the promise of dry feet. The moonlight track beckoned and we were aware the MTB Orienteer course would be challenging at night so we kept moving well as a team, resorting to towing on some of the hills. Golddiggers singletrack linked us to the MTBO course and with 2 hours of light remaining we decided to keep pushing the pace along the six singletrack loops, finding all but one checkpoints in the fading light before donning headtorches for the final push to TA. Team Morrison Cars were once again tussling with us in our back of the pack battle and we joined forces to find the tricky placements in the singletrack maze. Onwards to Mt Crichton.
Some head calculations meant we needed to push through the night if we were to make the full course cut-off so after a warm meal and foot preparation at the TA we setoff in darkness for the first of 3 tricky checkpoints around Sam Summers Hut. With my head finally in tune with the maps we found the hidden old track and made short work of the next two CP’s in the darkness only to catchup with Morrison Cars who had been struggling in the darkness. Sam Summers hut was full for the night and we passed a few more sleeping teams as we pushed on up the ridge to Mt Crichton. Stumbling up an impossibly steep and faint route we found a flat section of moss in the beech forest and collapsed under the stars for a quick kip only to be woken by headlights 2 hours later as teams began the pre- dawn push to the summit lake. ‘mate are you sleeping on the track bro’....’no it’s over there now p...ss off I’m trying to sleep’, I thought. Another groggy dark start to the day and a tough sidle took it’s toll on feet and speed but finally we made the summit as another blue bird day rolled into another. Not a breath of wind we could hardly believe our luck as we followed the schist, loose ridge down towards Meiklejohns Bay, looking forward (did I really say that) to a glassy 18km paddle to Glenorchy well inside of the full course cut-off. The team was on the mend and a quick stop in Glenorchy at the Pub for a burger, chips and coke only bolstered our soaring morale. Leaving the pub with a full belly we drafted each other along the fast road and dirt sections keen to break the back of the 110km MTB before night fell.
The light faded as the dirt road changed to overgrown farm track and eventually cold and swaying on the bike we were forced to take a quick 2hour break at a farmers hay barn. Curled up high on a circular hay bale I was only woken by the shouts of Musky, not having heard the alarm 10minutes earlier. In the pre-dawn darkness the uphill began and we began the bike push to Afton Saddle. We had debated the round the lake route but decided on the more conservative route after finding a media article in the men’s toilet of Glenorchy pub noting of SwordFox’s misfortune at the round the lake route! Stopping for an hour at the pub had it’s advantages, this was the first.
The downhill from the saddle was a highlight of the race. The descent was fast and took us through some stunning scenery, some of the easiest km’s of the race and with no sign of a true ‘hike a bike’ stage we were waiting for the final sting in the tail which never really came, thanks Warren.
As we arrived at the beginning of the final trek Wednesday afternoon and loaded up for an estimated 24hr stage I finally believed we were going to make the full course, just one long trek and then a straightforward paddle down the lake. Unfortunately the trundling gods had other ideas and one hour later as we crested a steep tussock slope we heard an almighty crack and watched as two or three very large (car or house I’m still unsure) boulders detached from a cliff and tumbled down the hillside approximately 500m ahead. ‘Holy f...k’ I think is what we all collectively said.
We sat down, safe but immediately concerned for any teams in front. We used our yellow brick to advise HQ and decided to traverse higher up the next spur to get a clear view. It was 5pm. As we sat on the spur we saw the informal farmers trail we planned to follow traversing directly beneath the rockfall. The Fernweh Four Team arrived about an hour later and together we sat, chatted, some slept and snored, some almost immediately! (JD), and ate. As we waited in the shade of some Matagouri a farmer and eventually HQ and their safety team arrived by chopper. Fortunately it looked like the previous team had crossed this path earlier in the day so concerns changed from body recovery to a more logistical issue of how to safely direct the remaining teams over the mountains to Kingston.
Keen to find another route Tim and I looked at the grassy ridge above, the traverse below the cliff and now very unstable slope was no longer an option. Organisers agreed the route traversing the slopes was no longer feasible and we were instructed to descend back to TA and await instructions.
Physically I was fine but mentally the drive to continue was broken knowing that the original full course was most likely out of reach. We shuffled down for another dark zone enforced full nights sleep. The morale with all the other teams back in TA camp was good but it felt like the race was over. The next morning we were to follow a poled route directly up through the bluff’s, similar to the route taken by Yearlands’ and then follow the Pursuit course route to Kingston thus avoiding the unstable cliff bands. The trek was easy and uneventful, the scenery stunning as usual, the weather calm, another blue bird day but I was in a dark place, mentally distant. We moved well as a team and Tim was back chatting away at the front of the line. We were likely to get dark zoned again on the kayak so we pushed hard in order to maintain our position and break as much of the 47km paddle today while the lake was still calm.
The final night was spent near Jacks point sleeping on the lake shore out under the stars. We pooled our remaining food and had a dinner of complan, noodles, tuna, olives and reflected on a great adventure. We were going to finish in fine form, healthy and strong. With the exception of Coxy’s feet we were all arguably healthier than the first day, Musky and Tim having shaken their cold, but that’s what you get for wearing one pair of socks for the whole race eh Coxy?! As for the Blue Seventy knicks, unwashed and unchanged for 6 straight days, well lets just say I’m going to buy myself a pair, they must be bloody good.
Trundle
verb: (used with object), trundled, trundling. to cause (a circular object) to roll along; roll. Often used in an alpine sense to describe the act of ‘Trundling’ large boulders off mountainsides.
noun: trundle; plural noun: trundles an act of moving slowly or heavily.
It is rather ironic that both definitions aptly described our GODZone adventure up, over and around Queenstown and Lake Wakatipu. The verb definition eventually bringing our later half race ‘sprint’ finish to be cut short.
It had been six years since I had competed in an expedition race, in Cairns 2010. I had watched GODZone over the past years with mixed emotions and finally, with some seed planting from workmate and team motivator Craig ‘Coxy’ Cox, had agreed to have another crack. Our goal was to finish the ‘Full course’ and it is with mixed emotions that I write this as circumstances beyond our control eventually led to a shortened final trek to the finish.
Preparations for the race had been limited. As ever family and work commitments meant neither Coxy nor I had got out for any missions longer than 12hrs, and none as a team of four. Janet ‘Musky’ Musker had been invited to join and I was pleased to have some more experience and another capable navigator on the team. Tim ‘Sicman’ Sikma joined in the last week to round out the team and provide a safe pair of hands as lead on the maps.
Our race team number, 26, I took as a good omen, the same number I had raced under in Cairns 2010. Tim questioned this logic given we had been short coursed 6 years ago, but I had a good feeling about this one and with summer finally arriving in South Island it looked like this was our time.
The start was the usual mix of anxious nerves. As we prepared our feet and gear in the early morning hours Tim set out the rules for no double dipping when applying Gurney Goo. Little did we know at the time but Coxy was cutting the label off a brand new pair of Blue Seventy knicks, a very ballsy move! 
We started and a short jog around the Queenstown waterfront led to a procession of teams up the hill towards an old dam and upwards towards Ben Lomond. Tim quickly showed his caliber and nailed the first checkpoint amongst the confusion and hustle of other teams. The short trek sidled around to the top of skyline and we were off on our MTB down ‘Harry’s’ pleased to be on a green downhill run. The track begged us to let loose but the loaded bikes and long journey ahead kept our speed under control and wheels, mostly, on the ground. Musky was struggling with a cold so we made some light use of the tow to keep the team moving as one up towards Queenstown Hill. We were making steady progress and while pushing bikes up some steep tracks were pleased to pass a mid pack team or two. Looking back we were puzzled to see Richard Usher at the side of the track, obviously not tracking well, we were not going that fast.
Tic tac toe’ing with Viv and Guy’s team, ‘Squashed Banana’s’, we relished the fast downhill to the Shotover river. A sharp transition and onto the boats with Coxy and I in the Barracuda and Sicman and Musky in the inflatable. Paddling was never my strong point and a single 15km paddle in training meant the team had little confidence in my paddling prowess. We made short work of the river and as we cruised through the small rapids my confidence crew. Granted Coxy and I hardly had to paddle to keep pace with the inflatable and once we joined the Kawarau we setup a tow to assist the slow inflatable.
A good ole hike a kayak, and a forgetful brain saw 3 laps, fartlek training, up the small hill to the TA and then we were off Gorgeering up the Arrow River, keeping an eye out for gold nuggets along the way. We avoided the swim as Tim tackled the V2 boulder problem to traverse into CP6, feeling rather smug.
A quick transition and we strode out along the Millenium walkway and towards Arrowtown only to arrive at Patagonia Ice Cream 10 minutes after closing time. Musky was gutted so we promised to return after the race. The first real route choice of the event presented and after a quick huddle we agreed to race the sunset and take a direct route up the spur to Brow Peak. My head was not yet in the maps and as we moved well along the Bush Creek trail Tim chuckled at my temporary geographical misplacement! We were moving slowly but steadily up the spur and as the rain cleared we were greeted to an inversion below and deer on the mid slopes. Darkness fell as we descended and Tim rolled an ankle on the uneven descent reminding us to take it easy on the steep uneven ground. Below and in the distance team lights could be seen in Coronet Creek and Spur’s on either side as we converged on the CP.
Once in Deep creek we stumbled across a four lane super highway grateful for the leading teams and make quick progress down the southern slopes of the creek into the early hours of the morning. In true AR fashion the easy terrain quickly turned to a nightmare of steep creeks and dense bush bashing which combined with tiredness led to uncertainty on our location. We struggled through the creek, which creek I am still unsure! only to find the route impassable, blocked by a waterfall. Viv and Guy’s experienced team were also perplexed and together we pulled ourselves up steep tussock to the Northern slopes of Deep Creek to find flatter ground. With little features at night to get a bearing we decided to bank 2 hours sleep and wait till dawn before re- orientating ourselves for a morning attack on the tricky CP9.
A clear cold dawn light showed we were still 500m short of where we thought but we quickly found a water-race and saddle to descend to CP9 on easy ground before the final canyon like section of Deep Creek to the Skipper Canyon. Musky was nervous about the abseil and walking across Skippers bridge gave ample time to dwell on the size of the abseil as we trundled up Skippers Creek, up a stunning tussock ridgeline towards HP1333 and then down towards Branches on the second half of the trek. Sicman had been infected with ‘Man flu’ so we off- loaded the tent to Coxy who was charging at this point. The steep terrain down from the High point made for some tricky route choices and we struggled to find a safe route down through the bluffs as we dropped off the East side of the spur. Returning to the ridge a route down the NE spur became obvious and we dropped to the Shotover river and Branches for a quick transition onto the canoes. We had 1hr to reach the old Strohles hut and paddled hard down the fun Grade 2 rapids just spotting the hut in time as the dark zone fell at 8.30pm. We were joined by the Morrison Cars Team and enjoyed a surreal dinner and rest in the hut, hopeful that the full nights rest would give Sicman an opportunity to recover.
As dawn broke we hit the water bang on 6.45am as the dark zone lifted, aware there would be a dozen or more teams behind us chasing us down from the TA and keen to get to the abseil first to avoid que’s. We paddled hard to keep warm. This was a great section of the race and was pure Type 1 fun. Coxy steered some great lines and we avoided all the main holes and obstacles as we charged for Skippers Bridge and the Mesh Bag Trek. We had already heard rumours of how tough this next section would be but on arrival were relieved to hear the Mesh bags were no longer to be hauled over the trek, our luck was changing. The thought of bush bashing up a steep Matagouri bluff dragging a 20kg mesh bag held little appeal.
It was cold at Skippers bridge which was still in shade so we jogged up the hill to keep warm. There was no wait for the abseil so with no time for procrastination we were abseiling down to the canyon below. Musky’s fears were pushed to one side and before long we were swimming downstream back to the TA for a quick transition onto the trek.
Without the mesh bag the short trek from Skippers bridge to the start of the Raft was enjoyable with easy Navigation in the daylight. Well rested we made good time and with Sicman on the mend we focused on the immediate stages, aware that the full course cutoff was looming. We were passed on the way by a familiar team, Richard Usher had withdrawn and in his place strolled Steve Gurney in shorts and T-shirt carrying only a 500ml bottle of water, just an afternoon stroll eh Steve!
We dropped to the Raft put-in and the first real river crossing greeted us. Linking arms we made short work of the swiftly flowing river aware there were presumably class 4 rapids downstream. A big tick of approval from race officials and a laugh at some other team’s river crossing etiquette and we were quickly off down river with guide and raft to navigate the rapids. We were in good spirits and chatting away to the guide were keen to challenge some of the faster times down this section of whitewater. Again another pure Type 1 fun stage, were we in an expedition race and having fun. I’d had a bad experience on the Zambezi river years before so was always the first to ‘get down’ at the first sign of a command from the guide, much to the amusement of the team.
We were looking forward to seeing our MTB’s and the promise of dry feet. The moonlight track beckoned and we were aware the MTB Orienteer course would be challenging at night so we kept moving well as a team, resorting to towing on some of the hills. Golddiggers singletrack linked us to the MTBO course and with 2 hours of light remaining we decided to keep pushing the pace along the six singletrack loops, finding all but one checkpoints in the fading light before donning headtorches for the final push to TA. Team Morrison Cars were once again tussling with us in our back of the pack battle and we joined forces to find the tricky placements in the singletrack maze. Onwards to Mt Crichton.
Some head calculations meant we needed to push through the night if we were to make the full course cut-off so after a warm meal and foot preparation at the TA we setoff in darkness for the first of 3 tricky checkpoints around Sam Summers Hut. With my head finally in tune with the maps we found the hidden old track and made short work of the next two CP’s in the darkness only to catchup with Morrison Cars who had been struggling in the darkness. Sam Summers hut was full for the night and we passed a few more sleeping teams as we pushed on up the ridge to Mt Crichton. Stumbling up an impossibly steep and faint route we found a flat section of moss in the beech forest and collapsed under the stars for a quick kip only to be woken by headlights 2 hours later as teams began the pre- dawn push to the summit lake. ‘mate are you sleeping on the track bro’....’no it’s over there now p...ss off I’m trying to sleep’, I thought. Another groggy dark start to the day and a tough sidle took it’s toll on feet and speed but finally we made the summit as another blue bird day rolled into another. Not a breath of wind we could hardly believe our luck as we followed the schist, loose ridge down towards Meiklejohns Bay, looking forward (did I really say that) to a glassy 18km paddle to Glenorchy well inside of the full course cut-off. The team was on the mend and a quick stop in Glenorchy at the Pub for a burger, chips and coke only bolstered our soaring morale. Leaving the pub with a full belly we drafted each other along the fast road and dirt sections keen to break the back of the 110km MTB before night fell.
The light faded as the dirt road changed to overgrown farm track and eventually cold and swaying on the bike we were forced to take a quick 2hour break at a farmers hay barn. Curled up high on a circular hay bale I was only woken by the shouts of Musky, not having heard the alarm 10minutes earlier. In the pre-dawn darkness the uphill began and we began the bike push to Afton Saddle. We had debated the round the lake route but decided on the more conservative route after finding a media article in the men’s toilet of Glenorchy pub noting of SwordFox’s misfortune at the round the lake route! Stopping for an hour at the pub had it’s advantages, this was the first.
The downhill from the saddle was a highlight of the race. The descent was fast and took us through some stunning scenery, some of the easiest km’s of the race and with no sign of a true ‘hike a bike’ stage we were waiting for the final sting in the tail which never really came, thanks Warren.
As we arrived at the beginning of the final trek Wednesday afternoon and loaded up for an estimated 24hr stage I finally believed we were going to make the full course, just one long trek and then a straightforward paddle down the lake. Unfortunately the trundling gods had other ideas and one hour later as we crested a steep tussock slope we heard an almighty crack and watched as two or three very large (car or house I’m still unsure) boulders detached from a cliff and tumbled down the hillside approximately 500m ahead. ‘Holy f...k’ I think is what we all collectively said.
We sat down, safe but immediately concerned for any teams in front. We used our yellow brick to advise HQ and decided to traverse higher up the next spur to get a clear view. It was 5pm. As we sat on the spur we saw the informal farmers trail we planned to follow traversing directly beneath the rockfall. The Fernweh Four Team arrived about an hour later and together we sat, chatted, some slept and snored, some almost immediately! (JD), and ate. As we waited in the shade of some Matagouri a farmer and eventually HQ and their safety team arrived by chopper. Fortunately it looked like the previous team had crossed this path earlier in the day so concerns changed from body recovery to a more logistical issue of how to safely direct the remaining teams over the mountains to Kingston.
Keen to find another route Tim and I looked at the grassy ridge above, the traverse below the cliff and now very unstable slope was no longer an option. Organisers agreed the route traversing the slopes was no longer feasible and we were instructed to descend back to TA and await instructions.
Physically I was fine but mentally the drive to continue was broken knowing that the original full course was most likely out of reach. We shuffled down for another dark zone enforced full nights sleep. The morale with all the other teams back in TA camp was good but it felt like the race was over. The next morning we were to follow a poled route directly up through the bluff’s, similar to the route taken by Yearlands’ and then follow the Pursuit course route to Kingston thus avoiding the unstable cliff bands. The trek was easy and uneventful, the scenery stunning as usual, the weather calm, another blue bird day but I was in a dark place, mentally distant. We moved well as a team and Tim was back chatting away at the front of the line. We were likely to get dark zoned again on the kayak so we pushed hard in order to maintain our position and break as much of the 47km paddle today while the lake was still calm.
The final night was spent near Jacks point sleeping on the lake shore out under the stars. We pooled our remaining food and had a dinner of complan, noodles, tuna, olives and reflected on a great adventure. We were going to finish in fine form, healthy and strong. With the exception of Coxy’s feet we were all arguably healthier than the first day, Musky and Tim having shaken their cold, but that’s what you get for wearing one pair of socks for the whole race eh Coxy?! As for the Blue Seventy knicks, unwashed and unchanged for 6 straight days, well lets just say I’m going to buy myself a pair, they must be bloody good.
