This was a different type of adventure. The idea was born in the lead up to the 2025 Legend XPD adventure race, which is to be held in Huonville, Tasmania. An adventurous guy, Tommy, really liked the idea of flipping the usual adventure on its head. Instead of starting at home and heading into the wild, we would do the opposite in a mini-adventure race style. He called the event Pedder Home, which says it all. The plan? Start at Pedder and walk/run the Mackays track to Cracroft plains, and then the Huon or Yoyo track to Tahune, transition to kayaks and paddle from Tahune to Judbury, and then jump on bikes to ride up and over Mount Wellington all the way home. It was a very cool idea!
Tim’s entire prospective adventure racing team was available, and they let me tag along seeing Em wasn’t free. Retrospectively I’m very glad I didn’t attempt it solo – I’d have probably been tempted if there wasn’t another option! Tommy had a 5-man team of his own, and a third 3-person team was also signed up. In the lead up a whole heap of research was done and there was concern that the end of the Yoyo track between Blakes Opening and South Cracroft might be a mess of fallen trees and the going really slow. In light of this, the third team decided on a different, much shorter, walk over Mount Picton and down to Blakes Opening. We all wanted the longer experience, that stuck with the theme of starting in the wild and walking home (Picton clearly wasn’t wild enough!).
I was ridiculously excited as the date approached, the prospect of a very different kind of adventure full of the unknown always does that too me. I was nervous about the paddle, particularly the thought of taking double sea kayaks down a river I’d not run, rapids and all, including Judbury falls, in conditions that had been just shy of flooding at the start of the week but had fallen quite fast. I’ve always had a very healthy level of respect for rivers, and much robust discussion was had, and we resolved collectively to make risk assessments as we needed.
The downside to paddling was the need for it to be during day light hours, which necessitated a starting time in the evening prior (or so we thought). So it was 7pm when we assembled at the start of the Mackays track, aware that we were going to be having this adventure with a sleep debt the entire time. Spirits were high, however, and we powered off, walking 4-5km/hr to start. The other group set out ahead of us, planning on running the bits they could. There wasn’t much of that – the track was pretty muddy and slippery, but otherwise in relatively good nick (for what it is!). It was a cool but clear night – perfect for what we were doing. We chatted away, or walked in silence, our torch light creating a pocket of warm yellow light as we wove through the otherwise invisible night.
Our high spirits gradually settled as we found our rhythm and as the hours passed they slowly ebbed. Adrian brought out the music to give us a boost, and we bopped and sang to pub and country music through the early hours of the morning. The temperature dropped, the button grass around us froze, glittering in our head torches, and the stars dotted the sky like millions of pin pricks in a blackout blind. 8 hours after starting out we arrived at the Cracroft river, finding it thigh-deep but crossable (unless you slipped, in which case you got a bit wetter, as Tim discovered). We took some time to find the track on the far side, at which point it became apparent that our worst fears about its condition were going to be realised.
This coincided with the darkest hours of the morning, when spirits are at their lowest, and despite stoic faces and humorous comments there was a subtle but noticeable shift in body language. With it came a stronger set of the jaw and in true bushwalking style everyone just put their heads down, shouldered their packs and set to tackling the task ahead, one step at a time. Our pace dropped to 1-2km/hour as we picked our way over, under, around or otherwise through the big mass of fallen trees that were so thick in places it was difficult to tell where the road went under them. It wasn’t just a matter of one or two tree trunks, but big tangles of branches and leaves, like some sick game of pickup sticks. Some of them held us, others broke. All were wet and slippery.
The physical challenge was one thing, the mental challenge to keep spirits up in spite of the snails pace was another entirely. The unknowns around how long this jungle gym was going to hold us up were significant. When we walked off the road at one point, even though we realised relatively quickly, it hit hard, right where we were vulnerable. And still we walked on, each of us dealing with our own struggles internally, the odd heavy sigh the only outward sign of our mental fatigue. I took comfort knowing Tommy’s team had already passed this way. The trail they left – the odd foot print or scuff, broken branches, and even a rain jacket or two – was strangely reassuring in this regard.
When dawn arrived we all felt better, even though nothing else had changed. It always amazes me the power daylight has on one’s mental state, and this experience was even stronger than usual. And boy did we need it. Smiles were back, if a tad weary, and chatter increased. Slowly, however, our fatigued brains began to process our pace and distance to go and come to the realisation that we weren’t even going to get to Tahune in the light, let alone be off the river before dark. We’d have to scratch the paddle. We could ride the section instead, but after taking stock of everyone’s slightly blank, glassy middle-distance stares I suspected that was unlikely to be much safer.
We had a quick conversation. Everyone was keen to get together for a ride at some other time. Bailing on the rest of the adventure was an almost unanimous choice. Fair enough, we would end up taking close to as long just for this first leg as we’d intended the entire event to take, and that would take its toll. I was keen to still ride home, but Tim forbade it. It also wasn’t going to be logistically feasible with the car arrangements we were now putting in place. I didn’t push the point – I was also tired.
Oh well – we’d given Plan A a good crack, and it had pushed up against our boundaries, revealing where their edges lay. Everyone had been challenged physically, mentally and collectively. We had come out the other side still talking amicably to each other, and relatively unscathed physically, with a few new lessons under our belts.
The decision made, we sent our the necessary inReach messages and kept plodding along the track, which improved but wasn’t totally obstacle free from Blakes Opening onwards. We donned head torches once again as dusk faded to another inky black night. The first signs of human existance were exciting – a rusty gate, and then a foot cleaning station and registration booth. A few kilometres later we crossed the suspension bridge over the Picton river and eventually headed towards the lights at the Tahune Airwalk. Janet was waiting, complete with egg and bacon rolls, chips and soft drinks – and a welcome ride home!
All up: 62.73km, 23 hours, 2059m ascent (…and, according to my watch, nearly 10L of sweat 🤣!)
rockmonkeyadventures 
Respect Becca, total respect
🤗🙂 S
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Thanks Simon! ☺️
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an adventure to back future adventures onto 🙌🏻
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