THE CHALLENGE of KOKODA 01

 

PART 1 - A YOUNG JOURNO'S TREK ACROSS KOKODA

 

By LEIAO GEREGA

He has led 95 expeditions across the Kokoda trail over the past 28 years, so when Major Charlie Lynn of the Kokoda Adventure says, “Kokoda Trail is tough,” he wouldn’t be joking.

Most of all, the 74-year-old ex military man was keen on making his 30 trekkers feel, hear, see, understand, learn and talk about the trail like they’ve never had in their entire life.

I walked the 96 kilometre trail for 10 days from April 14-23 alongside 29 Australian trekkers aged 14-72 years from different professions and background.

My fellow trekkers included students, fireman, ex-military men, owners of farmland, mayor of Canada Bay, a 22 year old speech pathologist, a couple who’s been married 25 years, a 20 year old wounded by a bullet to her hip and wanted to prove it, a singer, two young men in their 30’s who trained two years to carry 30 kg pack across the trail, “because they wanted to do it like the diggers did,” adventurous parents with their kids, those whose grandfathers fought in Kokoda and those with the links to Kokoda Network whose passion for the people sees aid being raised for health and education.

On the April 23, accompanied by a light rain our journey ended with a 9 km walk from Hoi to Kokoda station where one particular trekker, after being congratulated, emotionally said, “It was one helluva walk.”

Indeed it was. Imagine walking for ten days across fast flowing rivers held by a single rope and supported by logs as bridges, climbing ridges that seem to have no ending through pristine forests and swamps enduring distances of 9km - 29 km …such is the story of human endurance.

Half, if not all trekkers mentioned doing this because it’s on their “bucket list” and wanting to do it the way the diggers did.

For them the trail holds an emotional appeal and is a pilgrimage that reminds them of their countrymen who were enlisted into a battle they were not prepared for at a very young age.

In the war, 17,501 Australians were killed in action, 13,997 were wounded and 14,345 were taken as prisoners of war.

Our journey would begin at the McDonald’s corner where a memorial site contributed by P.J McDonalds stands neglected. In 1991 it was the only monument across the entire trail and has not been upgraded since then, an impression which reflected the neglect throughout the wartime heritage trail.

At the start of each trekking day, Major Lynn would brief us on the war history, most times igniting talks on the management of the trail and reviewing issues that needs to be looked at.

We arrived at Owers corner with the sun glaring down on the thirty of us, met by tufts of grass, abandoned trek huts and 80 local young and elderly porters, a chief cook, front shovel man, 'dokta boi' or medic and our trek guide big Joe.

Our chief cook wore a white clean shirt with a small respectful black print that read, 'boss kuk'. He was commended by Major Lynn as someone who delivered meals always in time over the last 16 years.

Boss kuk, during the entire journey stayed true to the remark.  He was strict and fair and on the first day told us in no uncertain terms that wheat bix is to be eaten four piece each, a leadership trait he learned from Major Lynn and the years of experience on the trail.

After enduring an embarrassing removal of my pack because it was too heavy and porters within Kokoda Adventure strictly adhere to a weight of 18kg and below, I joined the others on the first leg of a journey in a 1.7km walk downhill to the Goldie River where we were aided by ropes and porters who jumped in to carry our shoes and bags across.

Uphill, we entered the abandoned village site of Uberi and arrived at our first campsite called Goodwater at the Imita base. I noted the poorly built toilets covered in a torn blue canvas and the open porters hut with surprise.

Already being updated by Major Lynn on the lack of facilities and rundown campsites I was still taken aback at the look of the campsite that greeted us. None of the two toilets had doors, the porters rested in a half open hut while the shelter provided insufficient comfort with hard ground, high tables and no walls.

The sights of sad derelict campsites would continue to meet us along the way and asking around for an opinion the trekkers would say they expected this, but yes at least some form of hygiene, sturdy shelters and toilets most of all would need a certain amount of upgrading.

Most said they wanted to do it the way the diggers did, that is carry enough pack weight, experience the rough climb and face anything they can.

 “Maybe not too much luxuries,” says another trekker who explained that as long as there is hygiene practiced and that the campsite owners get a true benefit from their services she would be happy.

But Major Lynn continues to point out how campsite owners if taught well by management could have done a little more to help make the experience of trekkers more memorable because they are the paying customers. Opportunities that could have added values for trekkers, says Charlie could include facilities with cultural emblem, showers and changing rooms, village laundry service, selling of PNG coffee and fresh bread amongst many others.

Despite its lack of trekker needs, it was the feeling of mateship and bond between local porters and Australian trekkers that won me over. Perhaps that’s what Charlie meant when he said there is nothing like walking the trail, that such friendship is something one can never find anywhere and those trekkers who continue to walk the trail each year harbors a special memory.

There’s a true feeling of mateship that develops after day four, I heard a trekker said during the introduction night and watched with interest how each Australian trekker soon began to open up, share jokes and voice encouragement in the determination to conquer the rugged trail.

 “You’re doing well mate,” were some of the heartening words spoken as encouragement to trekkers who struggled throughout the journey.

Katie Johnston, a 20 year old who suffered a bullet wound to her hip showed even more courage after all her toes developed blisters and half the time limped behind the group, wearing a pained look but smiling brightly when someone told her she’d done a great job.

“I’m stubborn so if you told me not to do something I would go ahead and do it,” she told me after climbing Ioribaiwa ridge, surrounded by cheers and look of triumphs from those who made it ahead.

Katie says living with the fractured hip on her right means experiencing pain everyday and anyone can imagine how she could still do it with blisters over mountains and creeks.

“Once I finish this it will the biggest achievement like a personal victory for me and ide tell my friends and hope they can also walk the trail,” she’d said, proving after completing day eight to victoriously announce she’d come second.

On the fourth day, I almost wept with regret after my limbs became heavy and I stumbled halfway throughout the 22km walk from Agulogo creek to Efogi village.

• LEIAO GEREGA, a poet and story teller, is a former Post-Courier news journalist. She now works for a private school. Thank you to Post-Courier for permission to run this story.