The Guzzler Virtual 100km Ultra

With Covid killing racing, the good folk at The Trail Co put on an opportunity for us to race virtually and share our adventures through social media. This gave me the push I needed to hit one of my 2020 goals: to travel the Cooloola Great Walk on foot. The walk is 88km of wilderness so this fit perfectly. I camped on Friday night at a caravan park near the Tewantin ferry so that I could get an early start and organised a lift home from Rainbow Beach at the end of the trail.

For those who want the video version of this event:

I set off at 5:30am on Saturday morning carrying everything I would need for the weekend: camp gear, food, clothes and water.

First stop: the Tewantin ferry. I stopped my watch to avoid getting any free kilometres then boarded this cable ferry to enter the world of adventure that awaited me.

After 3.5km of road running, I reach the trail head just as dawn breaks. I set off through the trees on a sandy track. It’s drizzling but warm enough to wear my race tshirt without waterproofs. I’m confident and excited all at once. And then, the reality hits: I’m going to spend the first day running through large sections of swamp land after a week of rainfall. At first, I try to keep my feet dry. But I’m an old hand at this adventure game and know that this can quickly become a futile waste of energy. Within minutes, I accept my fate and slosh through the cool ti-tree stained water.

The sun is rising over the horizon by the time I reach Teewah Beach. It’s only a hint of sun and for the rest of the day, I will run and hike through rain and fog. The sea roars in my ears as I run northwards the short 1.5km until the Third Cutting exit. I stop to look at the little balls of sand crabs leave around their holes. I love being at the beach.

I leave the beach behind me and will not see it again for almost 90km. A huge kangaroo watches as I run past. I’m not sure who got the biggest surprise. He is intimidating and stands taller than me. But roos are rarely aggressive and he returns to eating grass in the rain. 

I spend the day running through a variety of bush. There’s coastal ridge line with its short thin windswept trees, tropical rainforest, fields of grass trees and loads of candlestick banksias. I stop to photograph mushrooms and fungi. This might be a virtual race but I’m not here to run fast; I want to be present because I don’t know when I’ll get the opportunity to experience this trail again. 

I don’t know which part of the trail I enjoyed most. It could have been walking atop tall ridges that dropped east to the ocean and west to the bush. Or maybe it was crossing the Cooloola Sandpatch: a massive shifting sand blow that looks like it could be the set for Lawrence of Arabia. I know that walking through kilometres of track that had turned into creek beds definitely wasn’t my favourite part. But it wouldn’t be a challenge if there wasn’t some struggle involved. And the struggle of wet feet is quite minor in comparison to what many people go through every day. Besides: I chose this. 

And that’s what I tell myself when I hit the wall at 47km with a long 10km of hiking left to reach camp. I have a low point but pull myself through and by 50km it’s dark and I’m happy again. I camp at Litoria Hikers Camp. Despite my having a permit, there is no space for me so I’m relegated to the “common area” along with another camper. The good thing is that it means I’m close to the bathrooms and water tank. 

I am out on the trail again Sunday morning before the dawn. I love this time of day when the animals change guard. The nocturnal critter are still hurrying home while the day time wildlife is waking. Birds sing, frogs croak and the first feels alive in the darkness. Kookaburras announce the pending dawn with their laughter. And trees change from invisible to skeletal to trees. 

The trail is higher today, saving me from walking through swamp. And it is again beautiful. I hike the uphills, and run the downhills and some of the flats. Again, I stop often to take photos and truly experience the place I’m privileged to be in. I feel strong and surprisingly fit despite yesterday’s efforts. 

I stop to hug a tree. Not because it’s in my nature to do so but because it’s part of The Guzzler Virtual Ultra bingo challenge. I’m glad. I may take the time to hug more trees in future. It feels oddly calming. 

At Poona Lake I take a rest. The water laps at the short and the sand is white. For the first time this weekend, the sun warms my skin. I fall asleep peacefully for about 10minutes and wake refreshed. My whole body calms on this little patch of white sand paradise. I am reluctant to leave but excited to reach the finish and achieve my goal. Just 15km to go until I reach the 100km finish. 

Carlo Sandblow marks the end of the wilderness. Just 2km from Rainbow Beach, it’s popular with day trippers and sand surfers. I rest in the shade at the entrance to the sand blow to reflect and celebrate. Just 7km to go. This is the first moment when I allow myself to be certain that I’ll achieve my goal. It also is a moment I need to mentally transition from solo wilderness man to social being. 

I walk across the sand blow then run down the road to the beach at Rainbow Beach. For the final 4km, I leave my pack on the sand between the lifeguard flags and run laps of the beach. I must be so much fitter than in the past because so can still run. With 20m left, so remove my shoes and take to the ocean. This is my finish line. I frolic and swim in the salty water for a few minutes and celebrate my achievement. Walking into town, a rainbow forms across the sky.