Kokoda Diary
KOKODA – OWERS CORNER
THE ADVENTURE OF A LIFE TIME
When the possibility of trekking Kokoda was raised, I jumped at the chance. I loved the challenge it presented, and due to a family military history, I’ve always held those who fought and continue to fight, for our freedom in such high regard. I felt there was no better way to honour our former ADF members than by “trekking in the footsteps of heroes”.
After speaking with a friend who trekked Kokoda as a training exercise with the SAS, he assured me that I had the mental capabilities to complete it (a positive, can-do attitude is essential), however he was concerned about my physical ability (walking the dog every morning was not going to cut it on Kokoda!!!). With only 3 months to trek date; I set out on a 10 hour hike up and down a 5km mountain. I managed 45km before my body gave up on me. Pretty good I thought, however I could hardly move for the next two days (and I didn’t even carry a pack!!!). With Kokoda being the third most difficult trek in the world I decided to take my training seriously and joined Renouf personal training centre in Applecross, WA. The staff tailored a program to suit, focusing on leg strength training and cardio. I trained 4-5 times per week, walked the dog 4km every morning and spent an hour every Sunday doing stair runs up and down Jacobs’s ladder in Perth. Looking back I’m glad I prepared so much as it made for a more enjoyable trek and aided my recovery time. If you are not overly fit or are carrying extra weight, hit the gym hard before tackling the trail, you’ll be glad you did!!
With a training program covered, I set about learning more about the history of Kokoda and our “ragged bloody heroes”. Without a doubt, Kokoda by Peter Fitzsimons was the best book I read and the movie, of the same name, assisted in the visual representation of the challenge I was about to undertake. If you’re not much of a reader, The Spirit of Kokoda: Then and Now, by Patrick Lindsay is easier to digest and a great read also. If you don’t get a chance to read up on the history of Kokoda, you won’t miss out; the Kokoda Spirit guides are walking experts who are more than happy to answer all your questions. The knowledge that they had and the passion for sharing it was truly inspiring.
Training and knowledge sorted, now it was time to pack. For a woman like me this usually means bringing everything bar the kitchen sink and an orange “heavy – bend with knees” tag attached at check-in!!! Packing was by far, the most difficult task I undertook before setting off and the day I left I was frantically running around getting last minute things. A list of what I took can be found at the end of my journal. The best advice I can offer is to pack everything into plastic zip-top bags and then into larger, water-proof dry sacks.
Finally the much anticipated day arrived. Although I was nervous when I left Perth, I was also full of excitement as I was off on the adventure of a lifetime and whatever lay in store was just another chapter in my life. Thankfully I’m still here to be able to write it!!!
Upon arriving in Moresby the whole plane was in high spirits (mostly due to the copious ones we’d consumed on the flight!!!) and we all made our way down to immigration. This is where we had our first lesson in PNG time measurement. The line for a visa was around 100 people long and we were told it “wouldn’t take long” to get through. Two hours later we were still waiting. There’s no toilet in the immigration holding area (a killer when you’ve drunk far too much on the plane) but if you smile and ask politely, they’ll let you through to use the ones on the other side. When I finally made it to the front of the queue, I realised why it took so long to get there. One person collects your money and stamps your passport, while another hand writes a receipt. The whole process takes about 5 minutes per person. If you can, organise your visa before you go, that way you’ll be at Gateway, enjoying a drink by the pool within 30 minutes of landing, instead of 3 hours!!!
After settling into to Gateway (the hotel used by trekkers), I had a few hours to kill before a debriefing by our Kokoda Spirit guide. I figured I’d go for a walk around and see what was outside, maybe even pick up some souvenirs and be back in time for the debrief. When I saw the razor wire that surrounded the hotel complex, the massive entry gates that were guarded by security and the look of horror on another trekkers face when I told her of my plan, I changed my mind and stayed put!!! My walk was confined to the grounds of the hotel (it’s not too safe on the other side of the fence!!!). If you’re into fitness (you need to be if you’re about to take on Kokoda), the hotel has a gym, tennis courts and a pool. In 36° C and 80% humidity, a swim in the pool refreshes any tired traveller.
Around 5.30pm a group of 19 excited trekkers (later known as “The A Team”) gathered around the pool for a debriefing by our guide, Wayne. We were told what to expect (a hell of a hard walk, but an amazing adventure), informed of our departure time (which would later be another lesson in PNG time measurement) and issued with our backpacks (considerably smaller than the one I had brought with me!!!!). I left the debriefing in high spirits, no leaches or snakes had been seen on the trail for a few months and excellent weather conditions were forecast.
With our debriefing over and done with, it was time for tea. Gateway served an excellent buffet dinner, highly recommended by all who ate it, and allows you add a few extra kilos that are later lost on the trail. After tea, it was time to repack into our Kokoda Spirit issued backpacks. I was more nervous with this than I was with trekking. It was time to cull!!!!!!! 3 women in a room, deciding what was and wasn’t necessary for 9 days in the jungle was a sight to see (and hear). We filled our camelbacks and put them in the fridge (highly recommended) and set about culling. Four hours and 5 repacks later we were all set and ready to go. Sleeping that night was another issue altogether. We were so excited that we stayed up talking till the wee hours of the morning, only to have to be up and out by 9am.
Again, I recommend the buffet for breakfast at Gateway, last chance to stock up on fresh milk and bread. From there it was time to head down to the lobby with our backpacks and whatever else we were taking on our adventure. Gateway keeps all valuables you don’t take with you locked away in a safe and your luggage stored away until you return, just be sure to clearly label your belongings as this makes it easier when you return.
As our group was trekking from Kokoda to Ower's, we had to fly to Kokoda. If you can, get a seat on the left hand side of the plane as this will give you excellent views over the Owen Stanleys. As we boarded the plane we were full of excitement (excluding 2 nervous flyers) and all through the flight heads were pressed to windows taking in the breathtaking scenery. It was almost comical to think that what took 20 minutes to fly to would take 9 days to walk back from!!!
Upon landing in Kokoda (amid great applause from the two nervous flyers) I was immediately struck by the searing heat (keep sunscreen and a hat handy) and the unimaginable beauty of what surrounded me. In the distance, mountain peaks stood tall and strong and led down to beautiful green valleys. Rubber plantations offered much longed for shade, not only for the trekkers but also for the hundreds of locals who had gathered at the airfield. Kunai grass stood 4m high and occasionally a machete wielding Papua New Guinean would appear through the grass and join their friends on the open field. At first seeing hundreds of locals, most wielding machetes, with blood red stained mouths (due to their much loved betelnut) made me feel a little uneasy. All the same I took the time to speak to a few of them and purchased some fruit to eat while I waited for our guide and luggage to arrive. When I later relayed this experience to Joe (my amazing porter) he smiled and laughed at my unease and told of the joy that the locals feel when a plane lands at Kokoda, bringing with it the next group of people brave enough to tackle the Owen Stanleys. With no TV, no shops and little to do, he said that those who live close by come to the airfield for entertainment, to farewell family and friends who work as porters on the trail and to sell fruit, bags, clothes, cigarettes and betelnut. From experience, skip the betelnut and buy the fruit!!!! The water at Kokoda airfield is clean to drink so you can top-up your camel backs and water bottles there.
After an hour wait, our guide and luggage arrived and we were introduced to our porters. It was time for a few photos by the Kokoda sign before heading off to Kokoda village for lunch (ham and salad rolls and fresh fruit), a look around the museum and a talk by our guide on the battles that took place at Kokoda. The walk from the airfield is really easy and includes a small river crossing before a small walk up a hill to the plateau. Don’t be fooled by this. It’s nothing like the rest of the trail!!!!
Kokoda plateau is stunningly beautiful, a flat grassed area drops down to a luscious green valley, spotted with village huts and rubber plantations. Huge peaks encase the plateau, as though gently cradling it in their hands. I took the time to close my eyes, feel the heat and listen to the silence. In all its beauty it was hard to imagine the atrocities that took place there. I walked around and read the white stone memorials, they offered up some useful information about the Australians, Japanese and the Fuzzy Wuzzy Angels. The museum, although small, is befitting of the area and pays homage to those who once fought for our freedom, and to those who helped them. The old weaponry that adorns the walls brings the war to life. Out side the museum (leaning against the toilet block) lays the wing of a Japanese zero. The whole Kokoda trail is one giant museum, out in the open, just waiting to be explored.
After lunch on the plateau, it’s your last chance to use a flushable toilet for 9 days!!! It’s also a great place to cool own by wetting your hat as the next 20 minutes is spent walking out in the open. As we set off from Kokoda village, I continually scanned from left to right taking in the jungle that our heroes had once fought in. It was so thick and dense you could barely see 10m into it. It was simply a thick web of varying shades of green amid row upon row of rubber trees. My mind drifted to the diggers, and in particularly to the 39th. How the hell did they do it? These young men; brothers, friends, partners, but above all, Australian heroes in the making. Most of them younger than myself (26), yet willing to pay the ultimate sacrifice. They wouldn’t have even seen the Japanese coming. The first of many tears welled in my eyes and I took a few photos of the seemingly impenetrable mass of green to show my friends back home.
From Kokoda to the next village, Kovello, was an easy walk (a nice way to ease into the trek, but don’t be fooled!!!). Iridescent blue, yellow and green butterflies hovered in the humidity, village people strolled along the trail, the ground was quite level and few hazards presented. It allowed me to chat to others in the group and also the time to reflect on my personal journey to Kokoda and the experiences I had had so far. At Kovello we were greeted by many smiling locals and beautiful, excited children. Being a school teacher, I was in awe of the small school on the left hand side of the tail as you walk into the village. Two small classrooms, no desks or chairs (children sit in the red dirt) and a few hand written posters. A simple grass hut, yet beautifully cared for. I took many photos here and smiled as I thought about what the kids faces back home would look like when I showed them these. Other members of the group had bought footballs and soccer balls to give to the village kids; the first of many was given out at Kovello. From the look on the kids’ faces, and the yells of delight that ensued, you would have thought that they’d been told they were going to Disneyland!! If you can, take over some school supplies (books, pencils) and leave them with the school teacher. Take over tennis balls, soccer balls, footballs, toys and see the elation on the kids faces, it’s magical. They have so little and truly appreciate everything. It’s refreshing to see.
As we prepared to leave Kovello, 4 stretcher bearing porters were making their way back to Kokoda carrying the latest victim of the trail, the sombre group in tow. Although alive, the trekker was suffering from sever dehydration and had to be evacuated. On one hand seeing a fellow trekker carried out on a stretcher was heartbreaking, on the other, it was a valuable lesson in re-hydration. The trail isn’t easy and if you don’t keep your fluids up, it can easily claim you. For some, seeing the stretcher party helped ease a few nerves as at least they knew that in an emergency they would be well cared for. The spirit of the Fuzzy Wuzzy Angels is alive and kicking in the Papua New Guinean porters.
No sooner had we set out from Kovello when the clouds rolled in and the heavens opened. Massive drops of heavy rain fell straight down. It was a welcome relief from the hot sun and the stifling humidity. I stopped and watched as the dry cracks in the earth below me gave way to a muddy, slippery, squelching path. Within minutes the trail looked entirely different, and so did I. I was soaking wet, my boots and socks felt 10kg heavier, I could feel blisters forming on my toes and yet I still couldn’t wipe the smile off my face. Bring it on, I thought. Nothing could stop me. I just wished I’d packed my poncho and waterproof bag cover in my day pack!!!!
After a 5.5km walk from Kokoda, we arrived in Hoi, which thankfully had drop toilets, for our fist night stay. Porters set up the tents and soaking wet trekkers washed in the cool, fresh water river that ran between the two campsites at Hoi. Again, it was hard to believe that in such beauty many fighting withdrawals took place as the Australians kept the Japanese at arms length. The picturesque river camp provided a relaxed atmosphere in which all members of the group got to know one another better. Don’t be scared if you intend on tackling Kokoda by yourself. Within hours you’ll make life long friends with those on the trek. It’s an experience that bounds you together (others will get fed up of hearing your Kokoda stories, those who trekked it with you can listen for hours!!!).
The river at Hoi also allows you to wash you clothes and boots, I couldn’t believe how filthy I was after only one day!! Once you’ve washed your clothes and boots, your porters are happy to take them and dry them by the fire over night. In the morning they’ll deliver them to your tent door all clean and mostly dry (yet reeking of camp fire). At dinner that night (bangers and mash – and lots of it) we all sat around the campfire and got to know one another a bit better as well as share our motivation for taking on Kokoda. The A Team was becoming a little family. Chats continued into the night over many cups of tea, coffee and milo. Our guide also shared his passion for the trail, passing on his knowledge of the events that occurred along the very trail we had just walked. His passion for sharing the story of our diggers was captivating.
Soon after 5am in the morning we were woken with a cheery “Good morning everyone”, our signal to get up, dressed, packed and ready to begin the day. After little sleep (at least now I knew who the snorers were and vowed to keep my tent far from them) it was difficult to get going as it was still dark and my little lantern didn’t really cut it. Take a head torch, make it a bright one!!! The quicker you pack the quicker you can be up enjoying a morning coffee. It was here I also learnt to be packed the night before so all I had to do in the morning was dress, roll up the mattress and put away my sleeping bag, it allowed for an extra 15 minutes sleep (just like pushing the snooze button!!!). As soon as you’re out of the tent, your porter will pack it up while you have breakfast (muesli, weetbix, scones – yummy with peanut butter and jam and tea, coffee and milo) and will fill your camelback if you didn’t get it filled during the night.
We set off just as the day was breaking, ahead lay the beginning of the climb over the Owen Stanleys. The previous day was an easy walk, today the challenge began. From here on in your porter will never be far from you. They become like a pair of wings, lifting you to stop you from falling down, pushing you up hills when the going gets tough and leading the way so you know where to put your feet. Take the time to get to know your porter. They are all amazing people and are more than happy to share their culture. They walk the trail to feed their families or send their children, brothers and sisters to school. They are the most selfless people I have ever met, a true inspiration. For around an hour we had a steady climb up towards the abandoned wartime battle site of Deniki. The majority of the walk was under the canopy and a spray of mist helped to ease the humidity. It was a difficult climb (where the trekker we’d seen the previous day had made it to before being stretchered out) but encouraging one another made it easier to handle the thick, gluggy mud. The scenery was again, breathtaking and upon arriving at Deniki our entire group was in awe of what surrounded us. The muddy, vine entangled mountain we’d just conquered was invisible. Covered by a blanket of soft, fluffy, blinding white cloud. It looked as though you could jump on it and simply hop from jungle covered peak to peak. I remembered before I left telling my four year old nephew that I’d be walking through and above the clouds whilst on the Kokoda trail. With wonder in his eyes, his face lit up as he marvelled “Wow, you’ll be in heaven”. He was right, I was in heaven!!!
After a pit stop at Deniki, we were off again. A short steep climb followed by a steady decent followed. This is where stair running paid off. Many trekkers felt the pinch on their knees during the decent. If you do have knee problems make sure to either tape your knees or wear a knee brace, the downhills can be more troublesome and painful than the uphills. A steepish 3 hour walk through canopy and open areas covered in choko vines ensued. The choko vines, remnants of abandoned village gardens, covered in jungle in a never ending green blanket. Along the way camelbacks can be filled up. Purification tablets are not needed as the water is fresh and unpolluted. Take the chance to wet your head or your hat as the walk to Isurava village is a hot one.
At Isurava village we stopped for another break (they have drop toilets there) and we were even able to buy Coke, Solo (5K) and Twisties (2K) from the villages. They also had fresh fruit to purchase (2-10K) and plenty of it. Even if you don’t drink soft drink, buy one for your porter, they’ll appreciate it (after all they are carrying your stuff!!!) and at the same time you’ll be supporting the local village. They help to maintain the trail and your support will continue to allow them to do so.
From there it was an hour or so walk to the Isurava Battle Field. Along the way we passed the wreckage of a Japanese Zero and crossed over front creek, the rough division between the Australian and Japanese troops. The Isurava Battle Field was breathtaking. The lower plateau, adorned with the memorial pillars of courage, endurance, mateship and sacrifice, overlooked Front Creek, the Eora Valley and all the way out to the Kokoda plain. Behind the pillars, engraved plaques revealed the battle that took place there and photographs honour the brave men that sacrificed so much for the freedom we enjoy today. Down to the right was Kingsbury’s Rock. It marked the site where the legendary Bruce Kingsbury, the only VC winner from Kokoda, was shot and killed. It was here that we held a heart-warming memorial service to honour those who once fought a brutal fight. There was not a dry among our group. Adding to the atmosphere was a member of our group who had brought along his bugle. To hear the Last Post at such a significant site was something I’ll never forget. It was here that we were also treated to the sweet, soulful voices of our porters. Their harmonious voices rose up to the heavens and lifted our spirits just as high (they sure put our singing of the National Anthem to shame!!!).
Isurava Battle Field is also home to a War Museum (unfortunately this was closed while we were there), drop toilets and a shower. I recommend taking in the site on your own, it allows you to get a feel for the area and experience the jungle noises that our Diggers had to endure.
From the Battle Field to the next overnight camp of Alola was around a 2 hour trek and encompassed three creek crossings as well as newly constructed huts that depict the original Isurava rest house area. As we neared Alola we had glorious views of the valley below and could see all the way to the Isurava battle Field. The campsite at Alola offered magnificent, million dollar views over the valley and across to Abuari. A pipe shower allows for an open air wash of bodies and clothes and a drop toilet sits just above the camp site. Local villagers sell fruit and chips, both at night and in the early morning set off. Alola also has an excellent dining room where we stayed up chatting, reflecting on our day and the history seeped area till sleep crept in.
“Good morning everyone” greeted us soon after 5am and our third day was underway. At that time of morning it was still dark and also a bit chilly so keep head lights and jumpers handy for the morning start at Alola. After a typical Kokoda Spirit breakfast of weetbix, muesli, scones, tea, coffee and milo, we were off again. The steep, muddy climb down from Alola proved difficult for some trekkers and again wreaked havoc on the knees. A log crossing greeted us at the bottom and a stunning waterfall presented upstream. It was then on to a series of undulations as we followed the creek line along the trail. We stopped along the Eora creek ridge and explored the Japanese camp site at lay above the trail. Relics lay undisturbed, grenades, bullet and mortar casings and even Japanese helmets. From the ridge you can also stand in the exact spot that the Japanese once carved out to position their mountain gun. As you look out onto the Eora village below you can only but imagine the devastation that was once caused by the mountain gun as it rained down on the peaceful, unsuspecting village.
From the top of the ridge it was a muddy, steep climb down to another river crossing at Eora Creek and then a steep climb up to the village on the other side for a rest. It was then onto a steep, extremely muddy climb to the top of a hump. Along the way we passed many Australian fox holes/weapon pits that lined the track, further evidence to the brutal realities of war and the fighting withdrawal methods of the Australians. We then stopped for lunch in a sunny clearing. Clothes that hadn’t dried over night were hung from the trees and a typical lunch of noodles, baked beans, cheese, tomatoes, crackers, salami, ham, tuna, scones and sweet potato was served. While relaxing in the sunshine we were treated again to the heavenly voices of our porters as they played the guitar and sang to lift our spirits. You’ll find yourself humming along to the songs long after the trek has finished.
A fairly steep, muddy decent led us to our next overnight campsite, Templetons 2, situated on the roaring Eora creek. The creek forms natural spa like pools and is a refreshing waterhole that soothes aching feet and muscles. Although freezing cold, it’s worth the dip and you can sun yourself on the massive boulders that line the creek. Templetons 2 is a fantastic site for clothes washing and you won’t need to dry you things by the fire if you wash early. A member of our group had his 50th birthday at Templetons 2, Wayne and the boys (porters) made sure it was celebrated in style. The boys sang well into the night and even prepared a birthday cake to celebrate the occasion. I can’t even describe how special a night it was. Listening to the raging creek that night was magical and extremely relaxing.
“Good morning everyone” greeted the cold morning after a cold night. Once again it was time to pack up, have breakfast and head off for our forth day. Massive hills and an extremely muddy trail greeted us on our trek to Templetons 1. Although the mud makes trekking more difficult, I found listening to the squelching sound of our boots extremely poignant, after all that’s exactly what the Diggers would have heard through the silence of the jungle. From Templetons 1 it was about an hour and a half of uphill climbing to The Gap, a split in the range where small aircraft used to fly. A gradually steep climb to Mt Bellamy, the highest point on the trail at 2190m above sea level, followed. From here we gained a better perspective of The Gap and could see all the way to Kokoda. It was then a down hill slog through a muddy trail to Camp 1900 where we stopped for lunch. Ancient Pandanus trees surrounded the picturesque creek spot, remnants of an arctic beach forest, millions of years old. Also situated at camp 1900 is the gravesite of Japanese soldiers. Discovered by our Kokoda Spirit guide Wayne, a small lean to marks the sacred site. It was fascinating listening to him recall the story of the sites discovery. At camp 1900 we were given the choice of heading straight to our next campsite, about a 2 hour walk, or bypassing past Myola 2, which would then take 4 hours to get to camp. If you’re fit, take the added challenge, if you’re not, head straight to camp.
On the way to Myola 2 we stopped at the crash site of an American B25 plane. Remnants of the twisted wreckage lined the site, a 2m bomb lay along side it and the landing gear, with tyre inscriptions still visible, rested near by. We then made our way to the edge of Myola 2 where we stopped to see an Australian ammunition dump. With the Japanese hot on their heels, our Diggers dug massive holes that are scattered throughout the jungle and dumped all that they could not carry in them. Australian boots, helmets, grenades, mortars and bullets had been excavated by the local landowners and contribute to the open museum that makes up the Kokoda trail. At Myola 2, the site of the biscuit bombings, we listened as our guide explained the significance of the area. A massive grassland area, the inside of a volcanic crater, where much needed supplies were dumped during the war. Definitely worth the detour if fitness permits.
A relaxed hour and a half walk through magnificent rainforest provided a nice change. Moss covered forest, giant pandanas trees, exotic orchids and never ending tree ferns captivated all of us. A steep, muddy climb, followed by an even steeper, muddier decent lead down to our next camp, Naduli. Breathtaking views awaited us, as did a screened shower and the cleanest drop toilets. The surrounding local village was like a scene from a movie, huts stood atop stilts, local children played on the open clay ground, women collected fruit, vegetables and herbs from the village garden and music could be heard resonating through the valley. Another Kokoda Spirit trek group camped a few meters away from us that night offering a nice opportunity to meet more people and share experiences. Later that night Papua New Guinean Idol erupted between the two porter groups, once again their sweet voices fill the air. Falling asleep to the sweet sounds of the boys singing was magical.
“Good morning everyone”. Time to dress, pack and have breakfast before heading down to Naduli village to meet Oburo Ndiki, the only surviving Fuzzy Wuzzy Angel. By far this was one of the highlights of my trek. To meet such a humbled man brought tears to my eyes as did his life story told by his son Andy. An amazing man, an amazing experience.
An incredibly steep, at times slippery and muddy trail lay ahead for the next hour, followed by a river crossing and another steep climb under the scorching sun to Efogi 2. We stopped here for a while, taking in the breathtaking views and a Japanese memorial while enjoying the fresh local fruit on offer from the locals. You can also buy soft drink and bags from Efogi 2. Situated here was also the local orphanage, another highlight of my trek. More soccer balls and footballs were handed out here and for around 15 minutes we were able to have a kick around with the orphaned children. From the beaming smiles on their faces they loved it just as much as we did. Another highlight to add to the list.
The walk from Efogi 2 down to Efogi 1 (the half way point along the trail) is incredibly hot as the jungle canopy gives way to open, low lying coverage. Another picturesque river crossing (take the time to wet your head or hat, you’ll be glad you did!!) leads to the large village of Efogi 1. It was then onto another stunning river crossing (wet your head or hat again) before a steep climb in the blazing sun to the top of Mission Ridge. Tall kuni grass traps the heat, making it unbearable at times, the 2/27th dug in here and fought off the Japanese. Considering they had limited water supply, you wonder how they handled the intense heat.
Soon after the canopy provides some much needed shade and a steepish climb leads to Brigade Hill. Along the way Australian and Japanese weapon pits are clearly visible, as is the old hollow tree stump where a Japanese Corporal once hid for 3 days. The final steep ascent to Brigade Hill was a tough one but upon getting to the top and seeing the magnificent 360° view that surrounded me, I’d forgotten all about the tough climb. We stopped for lunch here and again fresh local fruit was on offer from the local villages, a refreshing treat under the hot sun. Brigade hill was not only our lunch site but was once the site of the 21st headquarters. Another fierce battle took place here where Australians stood shoulder to shoulder with bayonet’s raised and charged at the Japanese. They showed amazing courage fighting in the almost vertical slopes that surrounded Brigade Hill. We held another memorial service here, two Kokoda Spirit groups combined to honour the Diggers and I was fortunate enough to be given the honour of reading The Ode. Tears flowed freely as a role of honour was called before giving way to The Last Post. Again we honoured the Fuzzy Wuzzy Angels as the voices of our Papua New Guinean brothers echoed through the valley below. Yet another highlight.
A very steep and muddy 3 hour climb brought us to Menari, our next overnight camp site. Toilet and shower facilities exist at Menari, however, a beautiful creek is situated on the other side of the airfield and is home to a small waterfall that is perfect for washing under. Be sure to take your stick/poles with you as it’s a steep, slippery walk up and down to the creek. Menari campsite was once the home to Australian aid posts and again many war time relics adorn the area. If you have any medical supplies that you do not wish to carry, they can be left at the clinic at Menari. By now all of us were starting to feel incredibly weary, the 8 hour trekking days were starting to take their toll on feet, knees, backs and also on a few people’s spirits. Our guide noticed this and gave us the option of trekking 8 hours the following day, thus reducing the number of trekking hours over the next few days, or, a 4 hour trek the following day where we could rest by a beautiful creek out in the sunshine. Needless to say we opted for the shorter trek and a day in the sunshine. That settled, moral began to lift as we knew the next day would be a shorter one.
Due to a shorter trek day, the sun was up before “good morning everyone” signalled the dress, pack and breakfast routine we were now all accustomed to. After a few morning stretches we were off again. Our first stop was just up the airfield to the local village and the site where Ralph Honner delivered his “Ragged Bloody Heroes” address to the 39th after their battle at Isurava. To stand in the same spot as the courageous men of the 39th was almost surreal, again more tears flowed.
It was then a steep climb out of Menari followed by an even steeper decent to an open, enchanted-like section of the trail. From here we walked along the leaf littered trail under the canopy before emerging at the open campsite of Agulago. The stunning campsite sat on the edge of a large creek that provided one of the best swimming spots along the trail. This was also the perfect place to wash and dry any dirty clothes as they quickly dried under the magnificent sun. Be sure to keep your fluids up here and continually apply sunscreen as the sun can be dangerous. A 200m walk upstream in the creek brings you to the most beautiful little natural pool, just below head hight. It was fantastic to have the day free to explore the surrounding area (be sure to go in pairs) and relax in the sunshine. The porters entertained us with a game of touch rugby and later returned from hunting with a wild boar. The spirits of our entire group were sky high with this rest. Under the energising glow of the full moon we celebrated the birthday of another trek member, more angelic singing and a specially made cake was much appreciated. The perfect way to end a perfect day.
“Good morning everyone” greeted us earlier than normal as we prepared for the hard days trek that lay ahead. A reenergised A Team left Agulago before the sun was even up. We walked along the muddy banks of the Brown river before crossing it and making our way through a swampy trail. Be sure to step in the footsteps of your porter, or the person in front, as what looks like a little bit of mud can actually be a pit that comes half way up your leg!!! The challenge of the Maguli Range was our next task. The range tests even the fittest of climbers as a series of 14 false peaks led to an almost vertical climb to the top of the range. Supporting everyone through this was critical to our success and a well earned rest awaited us at the top of the range. From here it was on to Old Naro, another biscuit bombing site during the war, where breathtaking views spread all the way back to Naduri.
More steep, muddy hills followed and at times it was almost a vertical climb. We passed vast village gardens before arriving at Naro Gap. From Naro Gap the trail was reasonably steep all the way down to the Japanese ladder and camp site. Many weapon pits lined the ladder all the way down to the camp, after 66 years they are still clearly visible all the way along the trail. After a rest here we set off again, the angelic voices of our porters echoed in the background as we began a small climb up another ridge to the site of Japanese trenches. We stopped again here to look around and take another well earned break. It was then on to Dump 88 and then Ofi creek for lunch. Getting there wasn’t easy as it was a near vertical decent to the river and the trail was slippery and muddy. A swim in the river provided much need relief for aches and pains.
After lunch the hill out of Ofi creek was a killer followed by yet another steep muddy climb down to Iorabawa village. Along the way we stopped at Iorabawa Ridge, the site of the furthest Japanese camps on their advance to Moresby, and saw many Australian and Japanese bunkers. We also stopped at the old site of Australian headquarters.
Arriving at Iorabawa village was spectacular. The campsite is perched on the edge of a mountain range and allows for magnificent views of a Papua New Guinean sunset which we watched as a group. There was an open shower at the campsite allowing the wash of aching bodies as well as filthy clothes and mud encrusted shoes. Later that night we were again treated to the sensational strains of the boys (porters).
“Good morning everyone”, again it was time to dress, pack and eat before heading off on our second last day. By now we had all had so much fun, despite the aches and pains, that none of us actually wanted to finish. A steep climb down through a muddy trail surrounded by bamboo clumps led us to Ua Ule Creek. It was here that we changed into our water shoes and prepared for the 20 odd river crossing that lay ahead. Although the cool water was a welcome relief for tired and blistered feet, the slippery rocks proved a challenge for some. The porters were remarkably skilled at jumping from rock to rock, but don’t try that yourself. Stick to walking in the water and it will guarantee that you will make it through to the end of the day. Walking through Ua Ule Creek was magical. Rushing water, jungle sounds and picturesque scenery provided the best relaxation experience of the entire trail. It will be one of the most pleasant walks you will ever take. It is also extremely important to stick close to the group, guide or a porter during this time as Ua Ule Creek contains many different paths and it is quite easy to get lost along the way. Little campsites are scattered along the creek and offer a tranquil place to rest. As you walk through the area keep a look out for white plastic markers in the trees, they are remnants of war to which signal wire was attached.
It was then time to put our boots back on as the trail ahead was muddy and reasonably steep for the next one and a half hours. It was then a short stop at the bottom of Imata Ridge where we refilled our camelbacks and wet our heads under a pristine waterfall and prepared for the challenge to the summit. The almost vertical, muddy, slippery ascent proved extremely challenging for most in the stifling heat and humidity. Be sure to avoid stepping on any tree roots as a slip could see you slide back own the ridge. At the top of Imata Ridge we stopped for another well earned rest and it was here that a handful of trekkers wept with exhaustion. The Japanese made it no further than the ridge as by now fresh Australian forces had arrived to assist in the Kokoda campaign. The climb down from the gap is almost as challenging as the climb up. Your legs become accustomed to the ascent, the decent shocks the knees and they feel somewhat stiff. The decent runs parallel to the original “Golden Staircase” which has long since rotted away. It’s astounding to think that this was the same spot that the Australian troops lugged a massive mountain gun up to the top of Imata Ridge.
We stopped for lunch at Dump 66 and were treated to a talk on Papua New Guinean culture from our trek master. To hear his story was inspiring but above all, life changing. There was also a stunning swimming spot there too but be sure to take your stick with you as it was a slipper walk back up to the grassed area. At Dump 66 local villages sold soft drinks and chips for 2-5K.
We then continued on our way, crossing a series of small creeks before arriving at our final camp site on the edge of Goldie River. Luckily for us the river was quite low and therefore, although slippery, it was easy to cross. At times the Goldie River can be above waist hight and combined with the strong current it becomes difficult to cross. Our campsite was on the other side of the river and after setting up for the night it was time for a swim and a wash in the river. The river was quite shallow at the bottom of our camp but a short walk upstream revealed a natural pool that was well about head height. The campsite was the only one on the trail set up on dirt so be sure to take a pair of shoes down to the river with you.
Later that night we had the bonfire of all bonfires, while singing and dancing to the sweet sounds of the porters. Soft drink was walked in from Ower’s, although it was also on sale at Goldie along with chips and cigarettes, and chicken legs were barbecued in the coals of the fire. It was a perfect way to spend our last night on the trail. Many stayed up chatting the night away, recalling stories of the past 8 days.
“Good morning everyone” greeted us for the last time as we woke up, dressed, packed and gathered for breakfast together for the last time. An hour or so of extreme steep climbing, exposed to the heat of the sun, and we were at Ower’s Corner. We’d finally made it. Many cried and others wanted to turn back and keep on trekking. What had seemed to take so long to arrive was finally over. After many photos under the Ower’s gateway, with the range we’d just conquered, it was time to farewell the modern day Fuzzy Wuzzy Angels, our Kokoda Spirit porters. Over 9 days you can become friends with your porter, they’re never far from your side, and saying goodbye was another emotional experience. Everyone on our trek handed over most of their possessions to their porter, after all we are so blessed and privileged that to be able to give them things was little to us. Sleeping bags, shoes, socks, pillows, shirts, camelbacks and anything else we no longer needed was passed on. They were truly grateful.
One last, steep walk up to the truck and we were off. Looking back at the range as we drove off, I took the time to reflect on the past 9 days, the best experience and the greatest adventure of my life. The history, the culture and the friends I made along the way, combined to make it the most unbelievable time.
Our final destination, a fitting end to the trail, was a visit to the Bomana War Cemetery. It was here that the realities of the war hit home, the brutality of the Kokoda trail it all its glory. Row upon row of simple, white, war grave headstones stood nestled in the pristine grounds. Walking around the cemetery I couldn’t help but notice the ages of our young Diggers, 19, 20, 21, most under 25. At the top of the cemetery stands a monument, in scripted with many names, dedicate to those whose bodies remain buried along the trail, the jungle their final resting place.
Driving back to Gateway was passed through the many suburbs of Moresby, a stark contrast from the picturesque trail. Many beaming faces, waves and “hellos” followed in our wake all the way back to Gateway. With the high heat and humidity a swim in the pool was refreshing. We were then given the choice of staying at the hotel or going to New Guinea Art and the markets. New Guinea Art had many wonderful wooden carvings, paintings and jewellery on offer while the markets sold an assortment of things.
Back at the hotel it was time to shower and get ready to head out to the yacht club for dinner. A dress code does exist at the club so be sure to take along a nice outfit. After 9 days in the jungle, covered in mud, dirt and sweat, it was almost strange to see everyone dress up. A fantastic night was had by all at the yacht club and was carried on back at the bar at Gateway.
Our flight left early the next morning, stories, phone numbers and e-mail addresses were exchanged before boarding. The experience of Kokoda bonds a group. It challenges you physically, mentally and spiritually. It is something you can not understand unless you do it yourself. Do it!!
Visit http://www.kokodaspirit.com
THE ADVENTURE OF A LIFE TIME
When the possibility of trekking Kokoda was raised, I jumped at the chance. I loved the challenge it presented, and due to a family military history, I’ve always held those who fought and continue to fight, for our freedom in such high regard. I felt there was no better way to honour our former ADF members than by “trekking in the footsteps of heroes”.
After speaking with a friend who trekked Kokoda as a training exercise with the SAS, he assured me that I had the mental capabilities to complete it (a positive, can-do attitude is essential), however he was concerned about my physical ability (walking the dog every morning was not going to cut it on Kokoda!!!). With only 3 months to trek date; I set out on a 10 hour hike up and down a 5km mountain. I managed 45km before my body gave up on me. Pretty good I thought, however I could hardly move for the next two days (and I didn’t even carry a pack!!!). With Kokoda being the third most difficult trek in the world I decided to take my training seriously and joined Renouf personal training centre in Applecross, WA. The staff tailored a program to suit, focusing on leg strength training and cardio. I trained 4-5 times per week, walked the dog 4km every morning and spent an hour every Sunday doing stair runs up and down Jacobs’s ladder in Perth. Looking back I’m glad I prepared so much as it made for a more enjoyable trek and aided my recovery time. If you are not overly fit or are carrying extra weight, hit the gym hard before tackling the trail, you’ll be glad you did!!
With a training program covered, I set about learning more about the history of Kokoda and our “ragged bloody heroes”. Without a doubt, Kokoda by Peter Fitzsimons was the best book I read and the movie, of the same name, assisted in the visual representation of the challenge I was about to undertake. If you’re not much of a reader, The Spirit of Kokoda: Then and Now, by Patrick Lindsay is easier to digest and a great read also. If you don’t get a chance to read up on the history of Kokoda, you won’t miss out; the Kokoda Spirit guides are walking experts who are more than happy to answer all your questions. The knowledge that they had and the passion for sharing it was truly inspiring.
Training and knowledge sorted, now it was time to pack. For a woman like me this usually means bringing everything bar the kitchen sink and an orange “heavy – bend with knees” tag attached at check-in!!! Packing was by far, the most difficult task I undertook before setting off and the day I left I was frantically running around getting last minute things. A list of what I took can be found at the end of my journal. The best advice I can offer is to pack everything into plastic zip-top bags and then into larger, water-proof dry sacks.
Finally the much anticipated day arrived. Although I was nervous when I left Perth, I was also full of excitement as I was off on the adventure of a lifetime and whatever lay in store was just another chapter in my life. Thankfully I’m still here to be able to write it!!!
Upon arriving in Moresby the whole plane was in high spirits (mostly due to the copious ones we’d consumed on the flight!!!) and we all made our way down to immigration. This is where we had our first lesson in PNG time measurement. The line for a visa was around 100 people long and we were told it “wouldn’t take long” to get through. Two hours later we were still waiting. There’s no toilet in the immigration holding area (a killer when you’ve drunk far too much on the plane) but if you smile and ask politely, they’ll let you through to use the ones on the other side. When I finally made it to the front of the queue, I realised why it took so long to get there. One person collects your money and stamps your passport, while another hand writes a receipt. The whole process takes about 5 minutes per person. If you can, organise your visa before you go, that way you’ll be at Gateway, enjoying a drink by the pool within 30 minutes of landing, instead of 3 hours!!!
After settling into to Gateway (the hotel used by trekkers), I had a few hours to kill before a debriefing by our Kokoda Spirit guide. I figured I’d go for a walk around and see what was outside, maybe even pick up some souvenirs and be back in time for the debrief. When I saw the razor wire that surrounded the hotel complex, the massive entry gates that were guarded by security and the look of horror on another trekkers face when I told her of my plan, I changed my mind and stayed put!!! My walk was confined to the grounds of the hotel (it’s not too safe on the other side of the fence!!!). If you’re into fitness (you need to be if you’re about to take on Kokoda), the hotel has a gym, tennis courts and a pool. In 36° C and 80% humidity, a swim in the pool refreshes any tired traveller.
Around 5.30pm a group of 19 excited trekkers (later known as “The A Team”) gathered around the pool for a debriefing by our guide, Wayne. We were told what to expect (a hell of a hard walk, but an amazing adventure), informed of our departure time (which would later be another lesson in PNG time measurement) and issued with our backpacks (considerably smaller than the one I had brought with me!!!!). I left the debriefing in high spirits, no leaches or snakes had been seen on the trail for a few months and excellent weather conditions were forecast.
With our debriefing over and done with, it was time for tea. Gateway served an excellent buffet dinner, highly recommended by all who ate it, and allows you add a few extra kilos that are later lost on the trail. After tea, it was time to repack into our Kokoda Spirit issued backpacks. I was more nervous with this than I was with trekking. It was time to cull!!!!!!! 3 women in a room, deciding what was and wasn’t necessary for 9 days in the jungle was a sight to see (and hear). We filled our camelbacks and put them in the fridge (highly recommended) and set about culling. Four hours and 5 repacks later we were all set and ready to go. Sleeping that night was another issue altogether. We were so excited that we stayed up talking till the wee hours of the morning, only to have to be up and out by 9am.
Again, I recommend the buffet for breakfast at Gateway, last chance to stock up on fresh milk and bread. From there it was time to head down to the lobby with our backpacks and whatever else we were taking on our adventure. Gateway keeps all valuables you don’t take with you locked away in a safe and your luggage stored away until you return, just be sure to clearly label your belongings as this makes it easier when you return.
As our group was trekking from Kokoda to Ower's, we had to fly to Kokoda. If you can, get a seat on the left hand side of the plane as this will give you excellent views over the Owen Stanleys. As we boarded the plane we were full of excitement (excluding 2 nervous flyers) and all through the flight heads were pressed to windows taking in the breathtaking scenery. It was almost comical to think that what took 20 minutes to fly to would take 9 days to walk back from!!!
Upon landing in Kokoda (amid great applause from the two nervous flyers) I was immediately struck by the searing heat (keep sunscreen and a hat handy) and the unimaginable beauty of what surrounded me. In the distance, mountain peaks stood tall and strong and led down to beautiful green valleys. Rubber plantations offered much longed for shade, not only for the trekkers but also for the hundreds of locals who had gathered at the airfield. Kunai grass stood 4m high and occasionally a machete wielding Papua New Guinean would appear through the grass and join their friends on the open field. At first seeing hundreds of locals, most wielding machetes, with blood red stained mouths (due to their much loved betelnut) made me feel a little uneasy. All the same I took the time to speak to a few of them and purchased some fruit to eat while I waited for our guide and luggage to arrive. When I later relayed this experience to Joe (my amazing porter) he smiled and laughed at my unease and told of the joy that the locals feel when a plane lands at Kokoda, bringing with it the next group of people brave enough to tackle the Owen Stanleys. With no TV, no shops and little to do, he said that those who live close by come to the airfield for entertainment, to farewell family and friends who work as porters on the trail and to sell fruit, bags, clothes, cigarettes and betelnut. From experience, skip the betelnut and buy the fruit!!!! The water at Kokoda airfield is clean to drink so you can top-up your camel backs and water bottles there.
After an hour wait, our guide and luggage arrived and we were introduced to our porters. It was time for a few photos by the Kokoda sign before heading off to Kokoda village for lunch (ham and salad rolls and fresh fruit), a look around the museum and a talk by our guide on the battles that took place at Kokoda. The walk from the airfield is really easy and includes a small river crossing before a small walk up a hill to the plateau. Don’t be fooled by this. It’s nothing like the rest of the trail!!!!
Kokoda plateau is stunningly beautiful, a flat grassed area drops down to a luscious green valley, spotted with village huts and rubber plantations. Huge peaks encase the plateau, as though gently cradling it in their hands. I took the time to close my eyes, feel the heat and listen to the silence. In all its beauty it was hard to imagine the atrocities that took place there. I walked around and read the white stone memorials, they offered up some useful information about the Australians, Japanese and the Fuzzy Wuzzy Angels. The museum, although small, is befitting of the area and pays homage to those who once fought for our freedom, and to those who helped them. The old weaponry that adorns the walls brings the war to life. Out side the museum (leaning against the toilet block) lays the wing of a Japanese zero. The whole Kokoda trail is one giant museum, out in the open, just waiting to be explored.
After lunch on the plateau, it’s your last chance to use a flushable toilet for 9 days!!! It’s also a great place to cool own by wetting your hat as the next 20 minutes is spent walking out in the open. As we set off from Kokoda village, I continually scanned from left to right taking in the jungle that our heroes had once fought in. It was so thick and dense you could barely see 10m into it. It was simply a thick web of varying shades of green amid row upon row of rubber trees. My mind drifted to the diggers, and in particularly to the 39th. How the hell did they do it? These young men; brothers, friends, partners, but above all, Australian heroes in the making. Most of them younger than myself (26), yet willing to pay the ultimate sacrifice. They wouldn’t have even seen the Japanese coming. The first of many tears welled in my eyes and I took a few photos of the seemingly impenetrable mass of green to show my friends back home.
From Kokoda to the next village, Kovello, was an easy walk (a nice way to ease into the trek, but don’t be fooled!!!). Iridescent blue, yellow and green butterflies hovered in the humidity, village people strolled along the trail, the ground was quite level and few hazards presented. It allowed me to chat to others in the group and also the time to reflect on my personal journey to Kokoda and the experiences I had had so far. At Kovello we were greeted by many smiling locals and beautiful, excited children. Being a school teacher, I was in awe of the small school on the left hand side of the tail as you walk into the village. Two small classrooms, no desks or chairs (children sit in the red dirt) and a few hand written posters. A simple grass hut, yet beautifully cared for. I took many photos here and smiled as I thought about what the kids faces back home would look like when I showed them these. Other members of the group had bought footballs and soccer balls to give to the village kids; the first of many was given out at Kovello. From the look on the kids’ faces, and the yells of delight that ensued, you would have thought that they’d been told they were going to Disneyland!! If you can, take over some school supplies (books, pencils) and leave them with the school teacher. Take over tennis balls, soccer balls, footballs, toys and see the elation on the kids faces, it’s magical. They have so little and truly appreciate everything. It’s refreshing to see.
As we prepared to leave Kovello, 4 stretcher bearing porters were making their way back to Kokoda carrying the latest victim of the trail, the sombre group in tow. Although alive, the trekker was suffering from sever dehydration and had to be evacuated. On one hand seeing a fellow trekker carried out on a stretcher was heartbreaking, on the other, it was a valuable lesson in re-hydration. The trail isn’t easy and if you don’t keep your fluids up, it can easily claim you. For some, seeing the stretcher party helped ease a few nerves as at least they knew that in an emergency they would be well cared for. The spirit of the Fuzzy Wuzzy Angels is alive and kicking in the Papua New Guinean porters.
No sooner had we set out from Kovello when the clouds rolled in and the heavens opened. Massive drops of heavy rain fell straight down. It was a welcome relief from the hot sun and the stifling humidity. I stopped and watched as the dry cracks in the earth below me gave way to a muddy, slippery, squelching path. Within minutes the trail looked entirely different, and so did I. I was soaking wet, my boots and socks felt 10kg heavier, I could feel blisters forming on my toes and yet I still couldn’t wipe the smile off my face. Bring it on, I thought. Nothing could stop me. I just wished I’d packed my poncho and waterproof bag cover in my day pack!!!!
After a 5.5km walk from Kokoda, we arrived in Hoi, which thankfully had drop toilets, for our fist night stay. Porters set up the tents and soaking wet trekkers washed in the cool, fresh water river that ran between the two campsites at Hoi. Again, it was hard to believe that in such beauty many fighting withdrawals took place as the Australians kept the Japanese at arms length. The picturesque river camp provided a relaxed atmosphere in which all members of the group got to know one another better. Don’t be scared if you intend on tackling Kokoda by yourself. Within hours you’ll make life long friends with those on the trek. It’s an experience that bounds you together (others will get fed up of hearing your Kokoda stories, those who trekked it with you can listen for hours!!!).
The river at Hoi also allows you to wash you clothes and boots, I couldn’t believe how filthy I was after only one day!! Once you’ve washed your clothes and boots, your porters are happy to take them and dry them by the fire over night. In the morning they’ll deliver them to your tent door all clean and mostly dry (yet reeking of camp fire). At dinner that night (bangers and mash – and lots of it) we all sat around the campfire and got to know one another a bit better as well as share our motivation for taking on Kokoda. The A Team was becoming a little family. Chats continued into the night over many cups of tea, coffee and milo. Our guide also shared his passion for the trail, passing on his knowledge of the events that occurred along the very trail we had just walked. His passion for sharing the story of our diggers was captivating.
Soon after 5am in the morning we were woken with a cheery “Good morning everyone”, our signal to get up, dressed, packed and ready to begin the day. After little sleep (at least now I knew who the snorers were and vowed to keep my tent far from them) it was difficult to get going as it was still dark and my little lantern didn’t really cut it. Take a head torch, make it a bright one!!! The quicker you pack the quicker you can be up enjoying a morning coffee. It was here I also learnt to be packed the night before so all I had to do in the morning was dress, roll up the mattress and put away my sleeping bag, it allowed for an extra 15 minutes sleep (just like pushing the snooze button!!!). As soon as you’re out of the tent, your porter will pack it up while you have breakfast (muesli, weetbix, scones – yummy with peanut butter and jam and tea, coffee and milo) and will fill your camelback if you didn’t get it filled during the night.
We set off just as the day was breaking, ahead lay the beginning of the climb over the Owen Stanleys. The previous day was an easy walk, today the challenge began. From here on in your porter will never be far from you. They become like a pair of wings, lifting you to stop you from falling down, pushing you up hills when the going gets tough and leading the way so you know where to put your feet. Take the time to get to know your porter. They are all amazing people and are more than happy to share their culture. They walk the trail to feed their families or send their children, brothers and sisters to school. They are the most selfless people I have ever met, a true inspiration. For around an hour we had a steady climb up towards the abandoned wartime battle site of Deniki. The majority of the walk was under the canopy and a spray of mist helped to ease the humidity. It was a difficult climb (where the trekker we’d seen the previous day had made it to before being stretchered out) but encouraging one another made it easier to handle the thick, gluggy mud. The scenery was again, breathtaking and upon arriving at Deniki our entire group was in awe of what surrounded us. The muddy, vine entangled mountain we’d just conquered was invisible. Covered by a blanket of soft, fluffy, blinding white cloud. It looked as though you could jump on it and simply hop from jungle covered peak to peak. I remembered before I left telling my four year old nephew that I’d be walking through and above the clouds whilst on the Kokoda trail. With wonder in his eyes, his face lit up as he marvelled “Wow, you’ll be in heaven”. He was right, I was in heaven!!!
After a pit stop at Deniki, we were off again. A short steep climb followed by a steady decent followed. This is where stair running paid off. Many trekkers felt the pinch on their knees during the decent. If you do have knee problems make sure to either tape your knees or wear a knee brace, the downhills can be more troublesome and painful than the uphills. A steepish 3 hour walk through canopy and open areas covered in choko vines ensued. The choko vines, remnants of abandoned village gardens, covered in jungle in a never ending green blanket. Along the way camelbacks can be filled up. Purification tablets are not needed as the water is fresh and unpolluted. Take the chance to wet your head or your hat as the walk to Isurava village is a hot one.
At Isurava village we stopped for another break (they have drop toilets there) and we were even able to buy Coke, Solo (5K) and Twisties (2K) from the villages. They also had fresh fruit to purchase (2-10K) and plenty of it. Even if you don’t drink soft drink, buy one for your porter, they’ll appreciate it (after all they are carrying your stuff!!!) and at the same time you’ll be supporting the local village. They help to maintain the trail and your support will continue to allow them to do so.
From there it was an hour or so walk to the Isurava Battle Field. Along the way we passed the wreckage of a Japanese Zero and crossed over front creek, the rough division between the Australian and Japanese troops. The Isurava Battle Field was breathtaking. The lower plateau, adorned with the memorial pillars of courage, endurance, mateship and sacrifice, overlooked Front Creek, the Eora Valley and all the way out to the Kokoda plain. Behind the pillars, engraved plaques revealed the battle that took place there and photographs honour the brave men that sacrificed so much for the freedom we enjoy today. Down to the right was Kingsbury’s Rock. It marked the site where the legendary Bruce Kingsbury, the only VC winner from Kokoda, was shot and killed. It was here that we held a heart-warming memorial service to honour those who once fought a brutal fight. There was not a dry among our group. Adding to the atmosphere was a member of our group who had brought along his bugle. To hear the Last Post at such a significant site was something I’ll never forget. It was here that we were also treated to the sweet, soulful voices of our porters. Their harmonious voices rose up to the heavens and lifted our spirits just as high (they sure put our singing of the National Anthem to shame!!!).
Isurava Battle Field is also home to a War Museum (unfortunately this was closed while we were there), drop toilets and a shower. I recommend taking in the site on your own, it allows you to get a feel for the area and experience the jungle noises that our Diggers had to endure.
From the Battle Field to the next overnight camp of Alola was around a 2 hour trek and encompassed three creek crossings as well as newly constructed huts that depict the original Isurava rest house area. As we neared Alola we had glorious views of the valley below and could see all the way to the Isurava battle Field. The campsite at Alola offered magnificent, million dollar views over the valley and across to Abuari. A pipe shower allows for an open air wash of bodies and clothes and a drop toilet sits just above the camp site. Local villagers sell fruit and chips, both at night and in the early morning set off. Alola also has an excellent dining room where we stayed up chatting, reflecting on our day and the history seeped area till sleep crept in.
“Good morning everyone” greeted us soon after 5am and our third day was underway. At that time of morning it was still dark and also a bit chilly so keep head lights and jumpers handy for the morning start at Alola. After a typical Kokoda Spirit breakfast of weetbix, muesli, scones, tea, coffee and milo, we were off again. The steep, muddy climb down from Alola proved difficult for some trekkers and again wreaked havoc on the knees. A log crossing greeted us at the bottom and a stunning waterfall presented upstream. It was then on to a series of undulations as we followed the creek line along the trail. We stopped along the Eora creek ridge and explored the Japanese camp site at lay above the trail. Relics lay undisturbed, grenades, bullet and mortar casings and even Japanese helmets. From the ridge you can also stand in the exact spot that the Japanese once carved out to position their mountain gun. As you look out onto the Eora village below you can only but imagine the devastation that was once caused by the mountain gun as it rained down on the peaceful, unsuspecting village.
From the top of the ridge it was a muddy, steep climb down to another river crossing at Eora Creek and then a steep climb up to the village on the other side for a rest. It was then onto a steep, extremely muddy climb to the top of a hump. Along the way we passed many Australian fox holes/weapon pits that lined the track, further evidence to the brutal realities of war and the fighting withdrawal methods of the Australians. We then stopped for lunch in a sunny clearing. Clothes that hadn’t dried over night were hung from the trees and a typical lunch of noodles, baked beans, cheese, tomatoes, crackers, salami, ham, tuna, scones and sweet potato was served. While relaxing in the sunshine we were treated again to the heavenly voices of our porters as they played the guitar and sang to lift our spirits. You’ll find yourself humming along to the songs long after the trek has finished.
A fairly steep, muddy decent led us to our next overnight campsite, Templetons 2, situated on the roaring Eora creek. The creek forms natural spa like pools and is a refreshing waterhole that soothes aching feet and muscles. Although freezing cold, it’s worth the dip and you can sun yourself on the massive boulders that line the creek. Templetons 2 is a fantastic site for clothes washing and you won’t need to dry you things by the fire if you wash early. A member of our group had his 50th birthday at Templetons 2, Wayne and the boys (porters) made sure it was celebrated in style. The boys sang well into the night and even prepared a birthday cake to celebrate the occasion. I can’t even describe how special a night it was. Listening to the raging creek that night was magical and extremely relaxing.
“Good morning everyone” greeted the cold morning after a cold night. Once again it was time to pack up, have breakfast and head off for our forth day. Massive hills and an extremely muddy trail greeted us on our trek to Templetons 1. Although the mud makes trekking more difficult, I found listening to the squelching sound of our boots extremely poignant, after all that’s exactly what the Diggers would have heard through the silence of the jungle. From Templetons 1 it was about an hour and a half of uphill climbing to The Gap, a split in the range where small aircraft used to fly. A gradually steep climb to Mt Bellamy, the highest point on the trail at 2190m above sea level, followed. From here we gained a better perspective of The Gap and could see all the way to Kokoda. It was then a down hill slog through a muddy trail to Camp 1900 where we stopped for lunch. Ancient Pandanus trees surrounded the picturesque creek spot, remnants of an arctic beach forest, millions of years old. Also situated at camp 1900 is the gravesite of Japanese soldiers. Discovered by our Kokoda Spirit guide Wayne, a small lean to marks the sacred site. It was fascinating listening to him recall the story of the sites discovery. At camp 1900 we were given the choice of heading straight to our next campsite, about a 2 hour walk, or bypassing past Myola 2, which would then take 4 hours to get to camp. If you’re fit, take the added challenge, if you’re not, head straight to camp.
On the way to Myola 2 we stopped at the crash site of an American B25 plane. Remnants of the twisted wreckage lined the site, a 2m bomb lay along side it and the landing gear, with tyre inscriptions still visible, rested near by. We then made our way to the edge of Myola 2 where we stopped to see an Australian ammunition dump. With the Japanese hot on their heels, our Diggers dug massive holes that are scattered throughout the jungle and dumped all that they could not carry in them. Australian boots, helmets, grenades, mortars and bullets had been excavated by the local landowners and contribute to the open museum that makes up the Kokoda trail. At Myola 2, the site of the biscuit bombings, we listened as our guide explained the significance of the area. A massive grassland area, the inside of a volcanic crater, where much needed supplies were dumped during the war. Definitely worth the detour if fitness permits.
A relaxed hour and a half walk through magnificent rainforest provided a nice change. Moss covered forest, giant pandanas trees, exotic orchids and never ending tree ferns captivated all of us. A steep, muddy climb, followed by an even steeper, muddier decent lead down to our next camp, Naduli. Breathtaking views awaited us, as did a screened shower and the cleanest drop toilets. The surrounding local village was like a scene from a movie, huts stood atop stilts, local children played on the open clay ground, women collected fruit, vegetables and herbs from the village garden and music could be heard resonating through the valley. Another Kokoda Spirit trek group camped a few meters away from us that night offering a nice opportunity to meet more people and share experiences. Later that night Papua New Guinean Idol erupted between the two porter groups, once again their sweet voices fill the air. Falling asleep to the sweet sounds of the boys singing was magical.
“Good morning everyone”. Time to dress, pack and have breakfast before heading down to Naduli village to meet Oburo Ndiki, the only surviving Fuzzy Wuzzy Angel. By far this was one of the highlights of my trek. To meet such a humbled man brought tears to my eyes as did his life story told by his son Andy. An amazing man, an amazing experience.
An incredibly steep, at times slippery and muddy trail lay ahead for the next hour, followed by a river crossing and another steep climb under the scorching sun to Efogi 2. We stopped here for a while, taking in the breathtaking views and a Japanese memorial while enjoying the fresh local fruit on offer from the locals. You can also buy soft drink and bags from Efogi 2. Situated here was also the local orphanage, another highlight of my trek. More soccer balls and footballs were handed out here and for around 15 minutes we were able to have a kick around with the orphaned children. From the beaming smiles on their faces they loved it just as much as we did. Another highlight to add to the list.
The walk from Efogi 2 down to Efogi 1 (the half way point along the trail) is incredibly hot as the jungle canopy gives way to open, low lying coverage. Another picturesque river crossing (take the time to wet your head or hat, you’ll be glad you did!!) leads to the large village of Efogi 1. It was then onto another stunning river crossing (wet your head or hat again) before a steep climb in the blazing sun to the top of Mission Ridge. Tall kuni grass traps the heat, making it unbearable at times, the 2/27th dug in here and fought off the Japanese. Considering they had limited water supply, you wonder how they handled the intense heat.
Soon after the canopy provides some much needed shade and a steepish climb leads to Brigade Hill. Along the way Australian and Japanese weapon pits are clearly visible, as is the old hollow tree stump where a Japanese Corporal once hid for 3 days. The final steep ascent to Brigade Hill was a tough one but upon getting to the top and seeing the magnificent 360° view that surrounded me, I’d forgotten all about the tough climb. We stopped for lunch here and again fresh local fruit was on offer from the local villages, a refreshing treat under the hot sun. Brigade hill was not only our lunch site but was once the site of the 21st headquarters. Another fierce battle took place here where Australians stood shoulder to shoulder with bayonet’s raised and charged at the Japanese. They showed amazing courage fighting in the almost vertical slopes that surrounded Brigade Hill. We held another memorial service here, two Kokoda Spirit groups combined to honour the Diggers and I was fortunate enough to be given the honour of reading The Ode. Tears flowed freely as a role of honour was called before giving way to The Last Post. Again we honoured the Fuzzy Wuzzy Angels as the voices of our Papua New Guinean brothers echoed through the valley below. Yet another highlight.
A very steep and muddy 3 hour climb brought us to Menari, our next overnight camp site. Toilet and shower facilities exist at Menari, however, a beautiful creek is situated on the other side of the airfield and is home to a small waterfall that is perfect for washing under. Be sure to take your stick/poles with you as it’s a steep, slippery walk up and down to the creek. Menari campsite was once the home to Australian aid posts and again many war time relics adorn the area. If you have any medical supplies that you do not wish to carry, they can be left at the clinic at Menari. By now all of us were starting to feel incredibly weary, the 8 hour trekking days were starting to take their toll on feet, knees, backs and also on a few people’s spirits. Our guide noticed this and gave us the option of trekking 8 hours the following day, thus reducing the number of trekking hours over the next few days, or, a 4 hour trek the following day where we could rest by a beautiful creek out in the sunshine. Needless to say we opted for the shorter trek and a day in the sunshine. That settled, moral began to lift as we knew the next day would be a shorter one.
Due to a shorter trek day, the sun was up before “good morning everyone” signalled the dress, pack and breakfast routine we were now all accustomed to. After a few morning stretches we were off again. Our first stop was just up the airfield to the local village and the site where Ralph Honner delivered his “Ragged Bloody Heroes” address to the 39th after their battle at Isurava. To stand in the same spot as the courageous men of the 39th was almost surreal, again more tears flowed.
It was then a steep climb out of Menari followed by an even steeper decent to an open, enchanted-like section of the trail. From here we walked along the leaf littered trail under the canopy before emerging at the open campsite of Agulago. The stunning campsite sat on the edge of a large creek that provided one of the best swimming spots along the trail. This was also the perfect place to wash and dry any dirty clothes as they quickly dried under the magnificent sun. Be sure to keep your fluids up here and continually apply sunscreen as the sun can be dangerous. A 200m walk upstream in the creek brings you to the most beautiful little natural pool, just below head hight. It was fantastic to have the day free to explore the surrounding area (be sure to go in pairs) and relax in the sunshine. The porters entertained us with a game of touch rugby and later returned from hunting with a wild boar. The spirits of our entire group were sky high with this rest. Under the energising glow of the full moon we celebrated the birthday of another trek member, more angelic singing and a specially made cake was much appreciated. The perfect way to end a perfect day.
“Good morning everyone” greeted us earlier than normal as we prepared for the hard days trek that lay ahead. A reenergised A Team left Agulago before the sun was even up. We walked along the muddy banks of the Brown river before crossing it and making our way through a swampy trail. Be sure to step in the footsteps of your porter, or the person in front, as what looks like a little bit of mud can actually be a pit that comes half way up your leg!!! The challenge of the Maguli Range was our next task. The range tests even the fittest of climbers as a series of 14 false peaks led to an almost vertical climb to the top of the range. Supporting everyone through this was critical to our success and a well earned rest awaited us at the top of the range. From here it was on to Old Naro, another biscuit bombing site during the war, where breathtaking views spread all the way back to Naduri.
More steep, muddy hills followed and at times it was almost a vertical climb. We passed vast village gardens before arriving at Naro Gap. From Naro Gap the trail was reasonably steep all the way down to the Japanese ladder and camp site. Many weapon pits lined the ladder all the way down to the camp, after 66 years they are still clearly visible all the way along the trail. After a rest here we set off again, the angelic voices of our porters echoed in the background as we began a small climb up another ridge to the site of Japanese trenches. We stopped again here to look around and take another well earned break. It was then on to Dump 88 and then Ofi creek for lunch. Getting there wasn’t easy as it was a near vertical decent to the river and the trail was slippery and muddy. A swim in the river provided much need relief for aches and pains.
After lunch the hill out of Ofi creek was a killer followed by yet another steep muddy climb down to Iorabawa village. Along the way we stopped at Iorabawa Ridge, the site of the furthest Japanese camps on their advance to Moresby, and saw many Australian and Japanese bunkers. We also stopped at the old site of Australian headquarters.
Arriving at Iorabawa village was spectacular. The campsite is perched on the edge of a mountain range and allows for magnificent views of a Papua New Guinean sunset which we watched as a group. There was an open shower at the campsite allowing the wash of aching bodies as well as filthy clothes and mud encrusted shoes. Later that night we were again treated to the sensational strains of the boys (porters).
“Good morning everyone”, again it was time to dress, pack and eat before heading off on our second last day. By now we had all had so much fun, despite the aches and pains, that none of us actually wanted to finish. A steep climb down through a muddy trail surrounded by bamboo clumps led us to Ua Ule Creek. It was here that we changed into our water shoes and prepared for the 20 odd river crossing that lay ahead. Although the cool water was a welcome relief for tired and blistered feet, the slippery rocks proved a challenge for some. The porters were remarkably skilled at jumping from rock to rock, but don’t try that yourself. Stick to walking in the water and it will guarantee that you will make it through to the end of the day. Walking through Ua Ule Creek was magical. Rushing water, jungle sounds and picturesque scenery provided the best relaxation experience of the entire trail. It will be one of the most pleasant walks you will ever take. It is also extremely important to stick close to the group, guide or a porter during this time as Ua Ule Creek contains many different paths and it is quite easy to get lost along the way. Little campsites are scattered along the creek and offer a tranquil place to rest. As you walk through the area keep a look out for white plastic markers in the trees, they are remnants of war to which signal wire was attached.
It was then time to put our boots back on as the trail ahead was muddy and reasonably steep for the next one and a half hours. It was then a short stop at the bottom of Imata Ridge where we refilled our camelbacks and wet our heads under a pristine waterfall and prepared for the challenge to the summit. The almost vertical, muddy, slippery ascent proved extremely challenging for most in the stifling heat and humidity. Be sure to avoid stepping on any tree roots as a slip could see you slide back own the ridge. At the top of Imata Ridge we stopped for another well earned rest and it was here that a handful of trekkers wept with exhaustion. The Japanese made it no further than the ridge as by now fresh Australian forces had arrived to assist in the Kokoda campaign. The climb down from the gap is almost as challenging as the climb up. Your legs become accustomed to the ascent, the decent shocks the knees and they feel somewhat stiff. The decent runs parallel to the original “Golden Staircase” which has long since rotted away. It’s astounding to think that this was the same spot that the Australian troops lugged a massive mountain gun up to the top of Imata Ridge.
We stopped for lunch at Dump 66 and were treated to a talk on Papua New Guinean culture from our trek master. To hear his story was inspiring but above all, life changing. There was also a stunning swimming spot there too but be sure to take your stick with you as it was a slipper walk back up to the grassed area. At Dump 66 local villages sold soft drinks and chips for 2-5K.
We then continued on our way, crossing a series of small creeks before arriving at our final camp site on the edge of Goldie River. Luckily for us the river was quite low and therefore, although slippery, it was easy to cross. At times the Goldie River can be above waist hight and combined with the strong current it becomes difficult to cross. Our campsite was on the other side of the river and after setting up for the night it was time for a swim and a wash in the river. The river was quite shallow at the bottom of our camp but a short walk upstream revealed a natural pool that was well about head height. The campsite was the only one on the trail set up on dirt so be sure to take a pair of shoes down to the river with you.
Later that night we had the bonfire of all bonfires, while singing and dancing to the sweet sounds of the porters. Soft drink was walked in from Ower’s, although it was also on sale at Goldie along with chips and cigarettes, and chicken legs were barbecued in the coals of the fire. It was a perfect way to spend our last night on the trail. Many stayed up chatting the night away, recalling stories of the past 8 days.
“Good morning everyone” greeted us for the last time as we woke up, dressed, packed and gathered for breakfast together for the last time. An hour or so of extreme steep climbing, exposed to the heat of the sun, and we were at Ower’s Corner. We’d finally made it. Many cried and others wanted to turn back and keep on trekking. What had seemed to take so long to arrive was finally over. After many photos under the Ower’s gateway, with the range we’d just conquered, it was time to farewell the modern day Fuzzy Wuzzy Angels, our Kokoda Spirit porters. Over 9 days you can become friends with your porter, they’re never far from your side, and saying goodbye was another emotional experience. Everyone on our trek handed over most of their possessions to their porter, after all we are so blessed and privileged that to be able to give them things was little to us. Sleeping bags, shoes, socks, pillows, shirts, camelbacks and anything else we no longer needed was passed on. They were truly grateful.
One last, steep walk up to the truck and we were off. Looking back at the range as we drove off, I took the time to reflect on the past 9 days, the best experience and the greatest adventure of my life. The history, the culture and the friends I made along the way, combined to make it the most unbelievable time.
Our final destination, a fitting end to the trail, was a visit to the Bomana War Cemetery. It was here that the realities of the war hit home, the brutality of the Kokoda trail it all its glory. Row upon row of simple, white, war grave headstones stood nestled in the pristine grounds. Walking around the cemetery I couldn’t help but notice the ages of our young Diggers, 19, 20, 21, most under 25. At the top of the cemetery stands a monument, in scripted with many names, dedicate to those whose bodies remain buried along the trail, the jungle their final resting place.
Driving back to Gateway was passed through the many suburbs of Moresby, a stark contrast from the picturesque trail. Many beaming faces, waves and “hellos” followed in our wake all the way back to Gateway. With the high heat and humidity a swim in the pool was refreshing. We were then given the choice of staying at the hotel or going to New Guinea Art and the markets. New Guinea Art had many wonderful wooden carvings, paintings and jewellery on offer while the markets sold an assortment of things.
Back at the hotel it was time to shower and get ready to head out to the yacht club for dinner. A dress code does exist at the club so be sure to take along a nice outfit. After 9 days in the jungle, covered in mud, dirt and sweat, it was almost strange to see everyone dress up. A fantastic night was had by all at the yacht club and was carried on back at the bar at Gateway.
Our flight left early the next morning, stories, phone numbers and e-mail addresses were exchanged before boarding. The experience of Kokoda bonds a group. It challenges you physically, mentally and spiritually. It is something you can not understand unless you do it yourself. Do it!!
Visit http://www.kokodaspirit.com
posted by Wayne's Kokoda Spirit Blog at
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