7 Things I Learnt Hiking 100km With 2 Strangers in the Footsteps of Hume & Hovell

We Are Explorers acknowledges that this adventure is located on the traditional Country of the Wiradjuri people who have occupied and cared for the lands, waters, and their inhabitants for thousands of years. We pay our respects to them as the Traditional Custodians and recognise that sovereignty was never ceded.

The only thing I knew about Paul and Daygin before we hiked 100km together was that one of them was a photographer and the other was a videographer. I also presumed they both liked the outdoors and were at least somewhat extroverted; otherwise, why on Earth would they have agreed to the trip?

Despite our lack of knowledge of each other, our mission from WAE HQ was clear: Walk 100km of the Hume and Hovel Track, capture the beauty of the trail and the epic accommodation options, and ‘don’t get lost’. Roger that :saluting_face:

Read more: I Hiked 100km of the Hume and Hovell Track Through Country NSW From Burrinjuck to Tumut

As with all outdoor adventures, this one was full of physical challenges, emotional highs and lows, epic scenery, and of course, some good old Type 2 fun. 

Spoiler alert! We became friends along the way (bonded by the shared trauma of a difficult hike of course), gained a unique insight into an iconic historical Australian expedition, and returned grateful for our bodies, lives, and the existence of hot showers and spring mattresses. 

Here are seven life lessons I learned in a week hiking the Hume and Hovell track with two strangers. 

Lesson 1: Indulging in Cabin Life Isn’t ‘Cheating’

After meeting on the side of the road near Tumut, we piled into Daygin’s car and headed to our starting point at Reflections Burrinjuck campground. We were welcomed to the park by fabulous hosts, a delightful sunset view across the glassy lake, and some very cute and inquisitive resident kangaroos!

We could have set up camp on one of the grassy lakeview spots, but given the nightime chill in the air, we felt zero guilt about booking into a cabin for a final night of hot showers and comfy beds. We needed all the rest we could get before our big journey through the bush!

During the evening, our gear spread far and wide across the living room in inevitable pre-hike chaos and last minute checks.

How many lunches do we have?
Do you think this is enough snacks?
Do you reckon my pack is too heavy?
Are you bringing a rain jacket?
How cold do you think it’s gonna be?

While we fluffed around with gear, getting to know each other, we made the most of the fully stocked kitchen and cooked up the only feast you could ever want before a hike: spaghetti bolognese.

Eventually, we were sorted and bid each other goodnight. At dawn, I poked my head out and was informed that in the packing chaos, Daygin’s car keys had disappeared. After turning the cabin, his bag, and car inside out, we decided to have a morning swim and clear our heads.

As we re-entered the cabin, I caught sight of the bin. ‘They couldn’t be in there, could they…?’, I half heartedly suggested. Sure enough, two minutes later we hear, ‘You’ve got to be kidding me’, as Daygin pulls his keys from the bottom of the trash, swept in amongst onion skin and celery leaves from the spag bol the night before. Flooded with relief, we bid our blessed cabin goodbye and embarked on the next mission – crossing the lake!

Lesson 2: Strangers in the Country Have Got Your Back

At this point in the Hume and Hovell Track, the trail actually runs right through the middle of the lake! Usually, hikers grab a lift with Reflections staff in their boat to the other side of the lake where the track starts up again, but luck would have it we were there the week their boat was being serviced!

Thankfully, Wendy at the front desk was a total legend who knew every camper staying there and directed us to a fisherman called Craig who might be able to shuttle us across. We reached the boat ramp just as a boat was streaming in, and sure enough, not one but two fishermen named Craig were aboard! The Craigs kindly agreed to take us across to the trailhead.

We paid them with a bit of cash and light entertainment when Daygin jumped out of the boat directly into ankle-deep mud. We waved the Craigs goodbye and, praising the existence of kind strangers and spare socks, finally set off on the hike.

14km of walking gravel and bitumen road through open farm land lent itself well to chatting side by side on the trail. It didn’t take long to figure out I’m a bird nerd, Daygin loves an extreme climbing adventure, and this was actually Paul’s first multi-day hike! It also came out that we’re all born in different decades – cue 1 million jokes about me being a millennial, Paul being old, and Daygin being a child.

Our feet eventually delivered us to the sanctuary of Billy Grace Reserve at Reflections Wee Jasper. Our sore feet and tired bodies were grateful for the hot showers, snacks for sale, and our kind camp hosts delivering us a fire bucket and firewood. Thank goodness for the kindness of strangers!

Lesson 3: It’s Not Really Fun Unless It’s Type 2 Fun

If you’ve ever done a multiday hike, you know the body feels the worst on day two. That was also the day we had to climb 800m elevation onto a plateau, and I discovered overnight that my sleeping mat had a mysterious leak. Fun times! At least I wasn’t alone and we were all battling our way up the hill together.

As we began our achy climb, we kept ourselves sane by imagining what Hume and Hovell must have experienced when they walked 1900km from Appin to Geelong and back in 1824-25. No fancy hiking boots or ultralight tents, and definitely no chippies and ice cream from the Reflections Holiday park. Thinking about them sleeping under a tarp, eating only tea and damper for days, while negotiating these steep climbs made me grateful for my thermal mattress, regardless of its slow leak.

We swapped stories about the worst (i.e best) experiences we’ve had outdoors. Tales of sandy tents, big storms, sleepless nights, and muddy trails kept us entertained until we arrived, wrecked but triumphant, at our camp under the light of our headtorches. We decided that Type 2 fun is the best kind, and I bet Hume and Hovell would agree with us.

Lesson 4: Camp Life is Better Than Real Life

On the morning of day three, with fewer aches and pains and the bulk of the elevation behind us, we really started to soak it in. Traipsing along the trail through the classic Aussie bush, sharing snacks, and making jokes with another four days of the great outdoors ahead of us had me feeling like I could stay out there forever.

Our next campsite was equally as stunning as the last, with a deep waterhole perfect for an icy dip in Micalong Creek.

As we made camp, it wasn’t hard to imagine the creek as a seasonal or permanent camp for the Wiradjuri People, and I wondered what their interactions were like with Hume and Hovell.

While it’s said that Hume was known for having good relationships with Aboriginal people, it doesn’t change the fact that expeditions like the one he led ultimately contributed to the colonisation of Indigenous land.

Aboriginal people lived and thrived out here long before white explorers walked these trails. These places weren’t discovered by them, they were already someone’s home. I keep that in mind as we light a morning fire and wake to the sound of Black cockatoos. We’re not just following Hume and Hovell’s footsteps, we’re treading on paths and swimming in rivers that were part of the Wirdajuri people’s everyday lives for thousands of years.

What could life in Australia look like if we’d learned and listened instead of trying to conquer? More time outdoors and appreciation of nature, that’s for sure.

Lesson 5: Watch out for the Nope Ropes

Day four was our shortest walk at only 7km, but it was my favourite scenery by far. We meandered through dreamy fern-filled gullies and paused by tranquil waterfalls, all the while the trickling of Micalong Creek kept us company. Shady old trees watched over us as we walked, so in return, we provided them with the occasional hug or pat.

It struck us that we enjoyed the scenery this day because it was mostly native bushland, while previously we’d encountered open farmland, eerie pine forest, creeks choked with blackberry vines (which we nicknamed nope ropes), and some sections that’d been heartbreakingly cleared to the ground. One day, we even walked past a logging business that supplies Bunnings.

The differences between native and European-influenced landscapes were much more stark than I imagined. But it makes sense when you consider that the purpose of Hume and Hovell’s expedition was to find and chart suitable grazing and farmland in Australia’s South East. It’s clear from our walk that they succeeded, but at what cost?

It felt ironic to be walking along a track named after two Explorers whose efforts to find suitable farmland ended up contributing to the degradation of that very land. I ended the day feeling partly grateful to experience such a remote track, partly jealous of the magical natural landscapes Hume and Hovell would’ve witnessed, and partly uneasy at the role they played in altering that landscape.

One thing’s for certain: I’ll be carrying the nope rope scars on my shins for a little while yet.

Lesson 6: All Trails Lead to Patagonia

We started before dawn for day five, our longest hiking day. The trail meandered through magical Micalong Swamp, into stunning eucalypt forest, and through lyrebird-riddled rainforest before descending a whopping 1100m back down to the Goobagandra River.

Despite the length of the day, and still finishing in the dark thanks to some stunning sunlight that just HAD to be photographed, we managed to stay hyped throughout the process by keeping each other sane. We shared outdoor adventure stories, gear chat, plenty of inside jokes, and a fair amount of shit talk.

We tried to decide which of us was Hume, which was Hovell, and which was a convict. Daygin claimed Hume as the most experienced Explorer, Paul got Hovell for the opposite reason, and I ended up the convict because I was always being ordered into position so the boys could get pictures and videos of me walking in the nice light. Honestly, worth it, they look great!

The best hack came from Daygin. Every time we reached a tricky bit of track, formed a blister, or struggled with a heavy pack, he’d pipe up and say, ‘It’s all just training for Patagonia’. Do any of us have plans to go there? No, but Daygin reckons if we have the chance to get there one day, we may as well start training now!

Today proved three things: our bodies are more capable than we realise, a supportive trail buddy goes a long way in keeping spirits high, and it’s amazing what you can achieve when you tell yourself it’s all just training for Patagonia.

Lesson 7: Have you tried being grateful?

Along with our ‘training for Patagonia’ motto, throughout the hike, when one of us would verge on complaining, someone else would pipe up and say, ‘Have you tried being grateful?’. It was simultaneously wildly unhelpful but also pretty effective because it made us laugh and reminded us we were truly lucky to be outdoors, taking on an epic journey with great people by our side.

I was grateful for the camaraderie that persevered throughout the journey, because not everyone bonds during a long-distance hike.

Take Hume and Hovell for example. They disagreed on leadership, fought over a frying pan (breaking it in half), considered cutting the tarp in half so they wouldn’t have to share, and even published contradicting accounts of the trip in separate pamphlets (which I’m pretty sure is the 1825 version of an Instagram story rant).

But not us. We had a ball in the high moments and joked our way through the rough stuff.

On our last day there was plenty to be genuinely grateful for. We had ice-cold swims in the river, crossed epic but scary suspension bridges, saw mobs of bounding kangaroos, marvelled at glistening riverside autumn leaves, said hi to a wombat, and witnessed a magical golden sunset roll over the hills behind Tumut. Even finishing in the pitch black (again) amongst some seriously creepy cows couldn’t ruin our vibe.

In fact, we were so in the zone that once we checked into our cabins at Reflections Tumut River, it took us five minutes to realise we were walking around the cabin with our headtorches on rather than just turning on a light. Once we turned on the ‘headtorches in the sky’, we soaked in the delightful hot showers and relished the feeling of doing something really simple but indulgent after a long hike, like filling a glass of water or sitting on a couch.

In the morning, we finally got to see the park in the daylight and enjoyed a relaxed morning coffee overlooking the tumbling river, lit up by the gentle morning light filtering through the golden autumn leaves.

Over a well-deserved big breakfast, we unironically shared what we were grateful for. The outdoors, good friends, an amazing life, and last but not least, a mattress that doesn’t deflate twice a night. Cheers to that!

Photography by @dayginprescott