Why I Started My First Solo Multi-Day Hike at My Front Door (and What I Learnt Along the Way)

Explorer Eva had been stewing over the idea of a solo multi-day off-track hike for a while. Usually a fan of group adventures, taking on a trail by herself was the first step of thousands. Here’s how it went down.

We Are Explorers acknowledges the Traditional Custodians of the Countries on which these adventures take place who have occupied and cared for these lands, waters, and their inhabitants for thousands of years. We pay our respects to them and recognise that sovereignty was never ceded.

The Idea

A couple of years ago my Mum heard about a woman named Bailey on the radio, who was walking along the East Coast of Australia, raising money for mental health. She reached out, and as Bailey arrived on our stretch of coast, Mum and I both joined for a few days of her walk and she even stayed at my place on her way past.

Hanging out with Bailey changed my perspective on multi-day hiking and it planted a seed.

Too soon to tell if this was a seed of genius or misery

I’d only ever really heard of people doing long multi-day hikes in remote, rugged places like Tasmania or across islands in Queensland. It all felt so inaccessible and intimidating. But what if I could do a hike right from my front door? After all, Bailey has just walked the roughly 100km between my Mum’s house and my own. Why couldn’t I do the same thing?

My natural inclination was to immediately gather a crew around me and plan the adventure, but again Bailey’s solo hike made me stop and think, maybe I should tackle this on my own?

It was time to take the long way home

The close proximity to my home and abundant phone reception, alongside terrain I knew fairly well, gave me enough confidence to decide that this would be my first attempt at a solo multi-day hike.

The added bonus of living right at the edge of a stunning national park was enough to make me really excited about it all.

Physically I knew I could walk that far. But I wondered what would happen inside my head and how I’d handle myself when the going got tough and the only person I could rely on to pep talk myself through it was me.

There was only one way to find out.

The Plan (Which Took 18 Months)

Turns out, it’s harder than you think to find a good weather window that lasts for seven days and comes at a time when you don’t also have work or other commitments.

So fast forward 18 months past Bailey’s visit, my partner and I were due to move house, so I knew my opportunity to walk out of my door and onto the trail was now or never.

Many people have since asked me how I prepared for an off-track hike, as I wasn’t following a specific trail, but rather lots of smaller and unofficial trails, roads, and beaches. To be honest it wasn’t much different from your usual multi-day. I packed the same gear, ate the same food, and made sure I had all my usual safety equipment.

The main difference was that I had to decide where to stop and how long to make the days. I wasn’t relying on a pre-set route peppered with designated campgrounds.

I used a combination of my own knowledge of the coastline, Wiki camps, and an app called Map Out to draw out my trail and locate campsites and water sources. Some sections I’d walked dozens of times before, and I mostly planned to walk smaller existing coastal trails connected by long beaches, with the occasional wander through town.

I ensured the track went past the prettiest beaches

I tried to space out my walk so that I had a slower start at around 10-15km days, with the bigger days later on when my body had (theoretically) adjusted to walking all day with a pack.

All up, my little line on the app told me that it was going to be about 100km and take 6-7 days to get all the way there. I wasn’t too worried about exactly how long it’d take or sticking to a certain path. I just knew that I wanted to walk the whole way and walk it on my own.

I set a date, told my mates about it (so I couldn’t back out), let work know (the great thing about working at an outdoor adventure company is that they support crazy endeavours like these), and told my Mum one last time, ‘No I’m sorry you can’t walk with me’.

Then finally, I waved goodbye to my very proud and excited housemate and wandered out the door and up the street.

Seriously Mum you’re not coming

The Walk

Despite my serious lack of training, my body held up quite well except for one big toenail (RIP buddy). It was a great exercise in listening to my body and getting in tune with its rhythms.

I found some days easy to charge through the kilometres and others felt endless and slow (despite the magical views).

Some days were boiling hot, making the water sparkle, tempting me in for multiple swims. Other days were drizzly and windy which lent themselves to long days on the trail followed by an evening sheltering in my tent with my book.

I was treated to an ENORMOUS thunderstorm on night one but the tent held fast and it eventually moved to rumbling out to sea.

I covered a huge variety of terrain, from long beaches to rainforest to open headlands.

I walked through peaceful national parks, over the Batemans Bay Bridge, along the Princes Highway, and along a magnificent hidden public council path with a sheer cliff to my left and beautiful seaside houses to my right.

Nothing like seeing the lyrebird emblem of NPWS

All up, I walked 95km over six days and five nights.

I hiked along 45 beaches and made four creek crossings. I spent two nights at national park campgrounds, one night at a caravan park, and two nights free camping in the bush.

I saw endless kangaroos, 57 bird species, three goannas, two ticks, one red belly black snake, one python, and an adorable echidna.

As usual, the magical South Coast didn’t disappoint.

Made some beautiful memories with this region of NSW

The Mental Challenge

Now, the physical walk was one thing, but the real challenge was my mind.

There were two points where I thought, ‘If I was just on a day hike and didn’t have something to prove, I’d probably bail right now’.

The first was at 6.30am on day two. I reached the entrance to Meroo Lake to find it very much open to the ocean, surging in with decent swell and high tide. I stripped off to my underwear and waded my way across to test the depth. The fast flowing water was neck deep in some spots, but I made it across and back. Now for the trip with my bag.

Look away Mum

Praying to the hike gods that I wouldn’t drop all my gear in the lake, I hoisted my 20kg bag over my head, took some deep breaths, and waded in. The weight of my bag actually helped keep my feet on the ground in the fast flowing water and it made it through dry!

The second time was on my very last day when I realised the tide was too high, I couldn’t get around one of the final headlands and my only option was to hike around part of the road and under the powerlines.

Let me assure you, unlike hiking trails, powerline tracks are not created with ease of use in mind. It’s straight up the hill and straight back down again. It was hot, seriously snakey, very steep, and involved shoving my bag and myself through a hole in a wire fence to finally get back onto the track on the other side of the headland.

Coming out the other side of both those minor hiccups felt incredible and helped me understand why people seek out Type 2 Fun.

That’s not to say I didn’t have support along the way. One of my coworkers kayaked me across a very deep creek, a random man wordlessly gave me an ice cold soft drink from the esky in his car, I had the odd phone chat with my Mum and cousin and partner, and I met many lovely and supportive people along the trail.

Hitch hiked a bit differently…

I’d normally call myself a people person and I get a lot of joy and energy from surrounding myself with others.

But there was something freeing about moving at exactly my pace and thinking of just myself and my needs for those six days. I’ll never forget coming up over the final headland, looking out to the beach I grew up on, and taking in that familiar view thinking, ‘Holy shit I actually made it here. My feet took me all the way here’. I was so proud.

Not only did I prove to myself that I could in fact do it alone and rely on myself when things got tough, but that I could genuinely enjoy doing something on my own as well.

Read more: How To Plan a DIY Route for Your First Solo Hike