Kick off

Firstly and formally, shoutout Mum and Dad. Awarded MVPs, from the brekkie spread of porridge and toast (if we know anything we know how to carb load) to the private chauffeur service out to Cradle Mountain visitor centre. Mum even threw in some photography work, free of charge, what a woman.

We are dorky, we are heavy, we are the cleanest we'll be for a good while. My pack, while a modest humble tiny skinny 13kg at home, somehow tipped the scale here at 15.5kg... No shame, but someone's got some explaining to do. Absolutely couldn't be me. I'm perfect. Ultralight queen.

We pinky promised the desk ranger that we had all the recommended gear and had absolutely not snuck in any denim or cotton, we know BETTER. Earnestly nodded our heads through our 30 minute safety briefing, and solemnly swore to monitor each other for the Stumbles, Mumbles and Grumbles - apparently the warning signs of hypothermia but I'm not sure if they know anything about my general personality. I think we're safer keeping an eye out for a good old fashioned shiver.

Before catching the shuttle bus out to the point in the park that the track actually starts, we were informed we were the last people to start today from our group. So, naturally, we fucked around taking selfies in the bathroom mirror. Self declared Speed Demons do not stress about being stranded out on a mountain in the dark, who are we, mortal? I get the zoomies before bed anyway, that'll keep me warm. I'll chase a quoll.Читать далее