The Three Amigos

Another break, another walk on Fraser: 110 kilometers, five days, three guys, two camp stoves, and one grand time. The route was similar to the walk I did in July, taking in Lake McKenzie, Lake Wabby, Valley of the Giants, Lake Garawongera, and Seventy Five Mile Beach. It was back to basics: wake up with the sun, have breakfast, pack up, hike, rest with or without a swim in one of the beautiful lakes, hike some more, set up camp, have dinner, go to bed; repeat the next day.

James and Mike on the trail

At Lake Wabby Lookout

James surveys Hammerstone Sandblow and Lake Wabby

My strategically-taped feet enjoying the fine beach of Lake Garawongera

Wild flowers by Lake Garawongera

Walking down Seventy Five Mile Beach under ominous skies

At Rainbow Gorge

Walking out of Kirrar Sandblow

Walking down the beach as the tide recedes

Keen fishermen waiting for a bite

Mike trying to dissuade a dingo from following us

On the late afternoon of day four, after setting up camp at One Tree Rocks Camping Zone on Seventy Five Mile Beach, James and I walked to Lake Wabby, about four kilometers away, for a swim. When we reached Lake Wabby, the sun was starting to dip behind the trees in the west. People were streaming out to head back to their four-wheel-drives. As we were getting ready to jump in for a swim, we noticed someone lying motionless on his back, covered in towels, with a few people standing nervously around. Sensing something was not right, James and I walked up, introduced ourselves, and asked if there was anything wrong. It turned out that Evan from Ireland, like so many visitors to Lake Wabby, ignored the posted warnings and did a dive into the lake. Immediately, he could not move his limbs. He soon recovered movement in his arms and his friends dragged him out of the water. Their tour guide went to get the ambulance while his friends stayed with him. We went up to Evan and quickly did a peripheral nerve examination. Evan had injured his spinal cord at the C6/C7 level from the dive.

Freightened, Evan’s eyes darted around, not sure what was happening to him. Hoping that he would remain stable, we reassured him that the ambulance would come soon and take him to the hospital. As the last bit of daylight faded away, the paramedic arrived and brought the news that a helicopter was called from Brisbane. He quickly examined Evan and expertly put in an IV drip. We stood around and waited impatiently for the helicopter.

At about eight o’clock, we heard the sound of a helicopter approaching, then saw the search light beaming down. Finally! After circling a couple of time, the chopper landed on the massive sand dune next to Lake Wabby. James and I climbed up to the top to check it out. What a sight! The red-tinged bright full moon was hanging low in the sky, casting a surreal glow on the bare sand dune. With the helicopter perched atop a flat section of the dune and the paramedics milling around to get their equipment, the scene was a rescue mission straight out of a movie. How I wish I could capture it with my camera! But the setup would take too long and we needed to get Evan out of here. The paramedics strapped Evan to the stretcher. All of us gave a hand and carried him up the sand dune to the chopper. Whipping up a whirl of sand, the chopper took off to Brisbane.

A goana sunning itself

Reflections off my sunnies

The next day, we spent the afternoon lazing around the fine white-sand beach at Lake McKenzie. And with that, our walk came to and end. Casualty count for me: three subungual hematomas, two fallen-off toenails, three big blisters, four small ones, a sore Achilles’ Tendon, and two sore shoulders. And my inner Masochist says it was all worth it.