As we head into 2025 it's a good time to embrace gratitude

“So what are you doing on your holidays? Another ridiculously long walk?” a colleague asked. As I started to outline my plans for not one, but three multi-day hikes during my long service leave, I could see her eyes glaze over. Many don’t understand the passion that we have for the outdoors, for being self-sufficient in nature and for seeing the beauty that is often only found when travelled on foot.

Unfortunately, due to the global pandemic, my plans were cut short and I had to return home early having completed only one of the three adventures planned. Despite totally understanding and agreeing with the restrictions that we’ve all be placed under, I couldn’t help but take it personally, angry that my happy little life had been turned upside down.

I work in healthcare – in pre-hospital emergency care. In the brief period that I was away, so much had changed in the way we approach each and every case we are dispatched to. There’s a heightened level of awareness, plus an increased level of anxiety. An empty house awaits me at the end of the day, and my family, all far away are now physically unreachable. I opened up to a workmate about how I’m feeling and the answer to getting through this came to me in one simple light-bulb statement – keep practising gratitude, for you can’t be sad and grateful at the same time.

Back to nature

With this advice in mind, I have reflected on my days in the outdoors and while I am grateful for every single moment of each and every hike, listed below is one standout moment from each multi-day hike, from the very first in 2015 through to the most recent earlier this year.

Reaching Trapper’s Hut in the Walls of Jerusalem: As a total novice, I wasn’t yet kitted up with all the right gear so the pack weight was heavy and the body not as fit as it could have been. I’d read up and had mentally prepared for the steep incline from the carpark to Trapper’s so it came as no surprise that it was tough going. The sense of achievement I felt on arrival resulted in a ‘pack off happy dance’ and a proclamation that multi-day hiking is for me.

Slogging along the Six Foot Track for my elderly mum: Mum always spoke of the Six Foot Track as one of her bucket list walks, but she never got to do it. Slightly better prepared than my first multi-day, both with gear and my fitness level, and my mum in my pack (albeit a laminated picture of her head) I captured the highlights of the track in photo form with and for her.

The instant relief I got after lying down, fully clothed, boots and all, in a shallow pool in Brumby Creek along the Green Gully Track: It had been a long and uncharacteristically hot day for that time of the year. I was out of water and the steep off-track decline at the end of day two had taken its toll on me and my old knees. Ten minutes later, I felt energised again and walked on to the next hut.

Watching the sun rise over the Annapurna Ranges, Poon Hill, Nepal: What more can I say? The clear blue sky, the crisp white snow on the mountains tinted with gold, the colourful prayer flags and the promise of another beautiful day ahead.

Seeing a wombat jump from ground level into the middle of a large button grass bush, with the grace of an Olympic high jumper: Blizzard conditions on the Overland Track meant that many walkers did not start their journey, leaving the track largely unpopulated and the animals able to move freely, unencumbered by human presence.

Standing on the third cape, Cape Raoul: Having hiked the official Three Capes Track during the week prior to our Overland Track hike, we felt compelled to return to the Tasman Peninsula to visit Cape Raoul in person, rather than only remembering it as a silhouette in the distance. Raoul became my favourite – while just as stunning as Pillar and Hauy, apart from the seals, the sea eagles and a foraging echidna, we had it all to ourselves.

The afternoons spent at pristine waterholes along the Jatbula Trail, and the joy and hilarity that could be heard from the other group travelling along the trail with us, 12 women who celebrated every day with a nudie swim; and the declaration by my (now ex) husband that he was uncomfortable. Ha ha, and he thought I believed him!

New walks, new friends

The camaraderie developed with complete strangers on the Kangaroo Island Wilderness Trail: With a diverse group in camp each night – some first-timers, some overseas backpackers, some old(er) and seasoned hikers – the information sharing, storytelling, fun and laughter was something that you would expect from a group of people who had known each other for a long time, rather than one that had just met and was unlikely to meet again.

Standing on Splendour Rock, Wild Dog Mountains, NSW on Remembrance Day: A bit of off-track walking that didn’t go to plan resulted in us getting to Splendour Rock a day late, where we showed our respect, observing silence while standing next to the Bushwalkers War Memorial plaque.

Watching the sun rise over the West MacDonnell Ranges: After an early start and a climb up Mount Sonder in the dark, the glow from the eastern horizon that started feint and grew in intensity, mirrored the sense of achievement of hiking the Larapinta Trail.

Regaining faith in myself after hiking the South Coast Track: I purposefully chose to do this hike at a time when I had a foggy mind; hoping that being on the track with only the company and support of strangers, would help me find clarity and certainty, which is exactly what it did. I had to find my old self, in order to overcome the challenges that the track brought each day. In turn that put me in good stead to do the same in everyday life.

The feelings of anticipation and then accomplishment while standing beneath Cape Naturaliste and Cape Leeuwin lighthouses, Cape to Cape Track: The two structures marked the start and finish of one of the most beautiful coastal walks that this country has to offer.

Taking the first step on my first solo hike since becoming a ‘solo woman’: It’s not that I hadn’t hiked by myself before, however by stepping out on the Sunshine Coast Hinterland Great Walk I claimed my life back and affirmed the person within had not been lost. Each night as I lay in my tent with the only night sounds coming from nature, I felt truly blessed to live a country where I feel safe doing the things I love.

The excitement that I felt as I stood overlooking The Twelve Apostles: The Great Ocean Walk had been on my hiking bucket list for some time, so to finally be there, at the end of a 104km iconic walk was exhilarating. I was also eager about the weeks that were to follow in Tasmania with Pine Valley and Frenchmans Cap on the hiking to-do list. However, as life changed at a rate that no-one would ever have predicted, I returned home.

I have plans for a hike later this year and right now I am allowing myself to be cautiously optimistic. After all, we all need something to look forward to, don’t we? However I’m still being realistic, knowing restrictions may not allow me to go. Yet it is not all doom and gloom. I am grateful that the places I will visit in the future will still be there, more likely in a better condition having thrived in the absence of human impact. 

Words and photos_Sheree Wheeler