Here is a story  that I wrote a few weeks ago about a walk with my husband….I have shared it with some…I hope the rest of you find it entertaining!  Lyndell

The rain is slowly easing as sunshine breaks the dawn. Last night’s freezing weather has gone and the only reminders of dripping rain are from the leaves outside our window. The fire has gone out but the heater is on. I lie in my large bed and watch the sun rise slowly in the sky. I resist the morning light as I lay snuggled beneath the warm covers. My eyes gradually close again and sleep overcomes me once more.

The aroma of coffee awakens my senses. I leisurely open my eyes. A body encompassed in a white robe stands beside me. No … I am not dreaming I am in heaven … it is my darling husband with a most important cup of welcoming coffee assisting me to greet the new day.

He smiles at me as he stands there with the cup. The aroma arising from the cup melts away the remains of sleep and I position myself higher on the pillow. He smiles at me again as I begin to reach for the coffee.

“Ready for a walk?”

I groan as I crash down on the bed and pull up the covers over my face.

So, you say … he wants to go for a walk??Let me explain about my husband’s day walks!!!!

When I first met him, we used to talk a lot. We would sit for hours and talk about everything. We would also walk for short strolls along our local beach. The walking and talking seemed to align hand in hand. One day, he questioned whether I would be interested in going on a day walk with him. I thought that was a lovely idea as I enjoy walking. So I agreed.

Now my concept of a day walk was quite different to his!!!Our first ‘day walk’ was twenty three kilometres long, one small water bottle between us, trekking over a mountain range in the middle of a hot summer’s day.Our second ‘day walk’ was part of the overland track in cradle mountain, Tasmania, in overcast drizzling freezing weather. Walking through mist, climbing up rock faces, sliding through slippery tracks and where I hung precariously onto a chain on the edge of a mountain making my way down off the so called day walk.Our third ‘day walk’ was in the snowy mountain area where we wandered off the known track to find ourselves in a virgin area of untracked routes. Looking for the way home my feet slipped off rocks into icy cold water. My face clearly indicated the answer to his “Are we having fun yet?”Our fourth ‘day walk’ was the Routeburn track in New Zealand … but that is a whole conversation of its own!!

My sister in law who knows her brother well, always used to say to me each time I told her about my walks, when will I ever learn?  So why should this day walk be any different.

After an indulgent sumptuous breakfast provided by our host in our weekend retreat of freshly baked bread, jam and butter we set off on our day walk. The weather seemed perfect, sun shining brightly, not too hot, not too cold; I was attired properly for the walk, nice bright colours so I would not get lost. Comfortable clothes and shoe attire on my feet. The car ride to the beginning of the track was pleasant, and we talked through the beautiful undulating landscapes before me as we wound our way up. My husband informed me that this part of our journey and the rise in altitude was a section we did not have to walk and I agreed happily. The car ride ended , sun still shining brightly after last night’s winters chills, back pack on my husband’s  back, walking poles in hand off we ventured.

There came the first glitch of our walk.

It did not bode well with me when the first part of the ‘ track’ was not even correct. After walking for fifty metres, my husband states…“Well I thought this was the beginning of the track … it has been about ten years since I did it …”

To regain the track we had to climb through two lots of barb wire fencing and cross no man’s land that exists between the NSW and QLD borders.  Just like in war zones, no man’s land is booby trapped … You venture through waist high grass, lantana, as thousands of farmers friends reach out to grab you and hang on tightly to your clothing penetrating their friendship through what you thought was appropriate attire for a ‘walk’.My husband espies the track. Smiling broadly he forges ahead.

This is a track?

Maybe it might have once been called that appellation but what I was seeing in front of me was not anything you could call a track!!  The track was lost completely in overgrown vegetation, trees, clinging vines served with brown and red clay underfoot.

My husband grins, his wonderful boyish smile.“Ah-Here it is!”And off we ‘walk’!Yes we walk.

My husband is now walking happily through waist high, sometimes shoulder high vegetation, now clearly on the correct ‘track’. He states informatively  to me that nature is nice in helping us as I trip over a large root supposed to be seen as a  step up on the track raising me to  the next ‘level’ of height. He pushes ahead of me, talking happily about his previous cub and scout ventures and treks he had completed and that this track was one of those.All the time I am walking my own pace.

In his army pants, boots and T-shirt he is walking quite well through the vegetation, but do you know that while nature has a way of helping you, it has a great way of slowing you down. Amidst that waist high vegetation was numerous long arms that came out to slowly grab me and hold me in their not so tender embrace. They clutch on tightly, their long thin tendrils grabbing you, enfolding you securely,  sometimes not wanting to let you go , just want you to stay and wait with them  a while as you embrace this  feeling of nature. So many times I became entangled with what I now know as ‘wait-o-whiles’. I certainly did wait!!  I could not get rid of them easily. Emitting small cries of displeasure I would try to loosen their hold as I forged onwards, but they held me fast! My husband would realise eventually I was not behind him as planned and from the distance I would hear the words … “You’re not here” … I would call out …” I’m stuck again”. Ah – my hero to the rescue. Then of course the always cheerful words of “it will open out soon” reach my ears … and true to his words … ah … there it is. The track widens to my understanding of what I consider a track. Some pleasurable relief seen as I step stronger more confidently of his ‘nicer’ version of what I understand is a walking track. My pleasure is not for long as once again I am to be confined to single file, tramping uphill, on a narrow restrained shoulder high track, complete with  barb wire  fencing on one side, so if you tripped and reached out, sharp barbs greeted you warmly in your flushed tender skin. Such luxury!

However, after what seemed an eternity of uphill trekking, slipping on the red clay underfoot my husband informs me, “We are almost there”.

Where?

All I see before me is a large rock shelf which might euphemistically be able to be called the bush rangers cave, but all I could see was rocks. I guess it could be used as a shelter if you got stuck in the rain.Oh and I forgot to mention that I am so excited … yes more climbing through barb wire fences to reach this point.

Do I go on??

Do I listen to that part of me that challenges me to go on?Do I show my husband that I can do this or do I give in?Do I give into my fear and say ‘enough’ …The stubborn part of me states yes I can do this … and so I soldier on just to prove the point as the saying goes.My husband walks before me.

We cross through the cavern taking the obligatory photos to say “we were here”. We climb up and down over rocks to find the trail and then he begins to climb.I look ahead of me.

I look behind me.I thought I was on a track … or something designated to being a track in my husband’s mind.Now I am met with nothing I would visibly call a track. All I could see was that the track I knew has now disintegrated to threads of yellow ribbon on tree trunks or wrapped around vines depicting the so called … what …???? Oh … did I mention it was straight up? How silly of me!

I begin.

How do I describe this section?Small single step by step as the motto goes.Hands gripped tightly on the walking poles as I pull myself up over the rocks, over the vines, slipping frequently on the red clay underfoot. My eyes are watching my feet oh so closely; my teeth are gritted oh so tightly, my breathing is sharp, staggered, panicking….I climb slowly.My husband is before me, climbing nimbly, helping me over hard patches of terrain. The ground before me is full of climbers, roots, tree branches and dirt…earthy, wet dirt finished with rocks that slip underfoot.

This is a track?? this is a track??I do not think so.I am not sure it is even a trail.My husband calls out cheerfully to me, a voice up in the skies.“Found it … another piece of yellow ribbon … we’re going the right way”Going the right way?What other way could we go???I could not see any alternative.I ask the simple question …” How much further till the top”He replies, “About another hour.”Another hour I question … The answer being because since the cave, we had only climbed 30 metres in 20 minutes.I let that sink in … In my hiker’s mind I felt the rate I was going it would be dark before we reached the top.BUT … we keep climbing.

Oh oh … weather not looking too good now…Then the words I didn’t want to hear … but in reality needed to hear…‘I think it is time to turn around. ‘

climbing straight up meant climbing straight down….

Emotions raced through me … the challenge was over,  and yes I was relieved but in some way a little annoyed with myself as well. I wanted to continue upwards but knew I was going too slowly. I could not complete my challenge of this day walk I guess; practically speaking it was safer to start the venture down.Privately I was a little disappointed, but really not for too long!

So we turned around.

Now you thought up was hard….down is quite impossible to really describe.

Vertically up … so obviously vertically down … and I mean vertically down!Get the picture??

“The trees are your friends,” calls my wonderful husband as he leaps down  the trail swinging from one tree to another,  confident that each will  stop his possible fall on his  downward run.  That was the plan until he grasped a giant stinging tree on his downward plunge. This stopped his descent quite abruptly as he cried out in pain. Of course this did not dampen his spirits for long and blithely resumed his downward trek. No, it did not deter him one bit. He is very nimble on his feet and I admire him for that and his confidence in these walks … with me of course along to share these most pleasant journeys.

I follow behind.A different story! No I am not leaping

No I am not touching the trees to stop my fall.No I am not embracing the downward slope like a happy skier plunging head first into danger.But I am looking closely for the stinging tree, not that I even know what one looks like.Instead I am hugging them tightly, not wanting to let go of their comfortable safe grasp.Instead I am treading gingerly watching where my foot plants, all the time feeling the stones slip out from under  me as my foot rolls backwards and my body plunges in front of  my feet!! Probably, not the way it is supposed to be.Grabbing tightly my husband’s hands as I traverse rocks and vines, I am trying to lift one knee up with the other one bending down while balancing unsteadily on the edge of this slope of what is supposedly a marked walkers trail.

My breathing is now panicking and tears of fear enter my eyes. Now that makes it so much harder to see!! Wow – I thought thirty metres climbing up was hard … oh boy … thirty metres down is even harder. We make it back to the cave and it is easy going now. Wide tracks … rocks safely able to scramble over…What was I ever thinking that I considered this part previously was hard … not from my perspective of where I had just been!!!

Down the trail, though the waist to shoulder high grass, clutching, grasping tendrils of wait-o-whiles … enfolding me once more in their tight embrace as I break free frantically trying to keep up with my husband. Of course don’t forget the red clay slipping underneath, vines of tree roots rushing out to trip me up again.Ah the sun comes out.We stop to take the photo of where we had been.You know, we could have kept going higher. If we had started earlier in the day … but I was more than happy to be going down believe me. Oh so happy!! In fact – quite ecstatic.

The promise from my husband of a cup of hot chocolate at a cafe entices me onwards, downwards, through the barb wire fence, through the mud, through the grass. Excitement rushes within me as I see the house where we had started. Jubilation rises to greet me as now I can see the car park

Yes … the car is still there. Oh that’s a good sign … no more walking.We reach the car and begin to de louse the ‘farmer’s friends’ from each other’s clothing.

My husband hugs me and remarked…“You know you should regularly do something that scares you” (and this is coming from a doctor!)He continues to remark that he would hate for me to get bored with him or our marriage.Bored???

Boy that is something that could never be said of our marriage!!

One hot chocolate and purchase of lemon myrtle massage oil stop, accompanied by groans of muscle aches and stiffness we arrive back at the cabin for a hot shower and some pampering.

I look at the photos of where we have been.I send a text to my best friend informing her” Yes,  we did it again … walked a track on a track that was not really a track, climbing straight up from Numinbah to something called bush rangers  cave … will I never learn ???”She replies with a smile in her SMS …“Lock the cabin door in case he wants to go for another little walk tomorrow”.

And you know the silly part of all this. We only really walked 6kms in total … but straight UP.And in his defence….he did remark when he looked at the photos-“ It was a bit unrealistic of me to expect you to walk it!”

Will I ever learn?Probably not.Would I do it again?Probably!

All I can say is I must love him!

Where we walked and where we did not walk!