LARAPINTA HIKE Day 5
The final day, the big night hike to walk to the top of Mt Sonder for sunrise. Night hiking is a new for me, and its benefits are clear to see. Being able to see the stars without interference from any light pollution is enough on its own. The chill of night keeping you cool even as you climb is another bonus, and not being able to see the steep inclines ahead of you keeps your mind focused on the next step rather than what’s of in the distance. We roused at 2AM with the aim to leave camp by 2:30. With preparations for lunch completed the night before, this target was achieved easily. On the bus and returned to Redbank Gorge by quarter past three, the climb once again took off from where we had left the day before. The first kilometre or so was flat, crossing over the riverbed that leads to the gorge and approaching the base of Mt Sonder. Once the base is reached, the climb is severe, with large steps from the next five hundred metres - it’s bloody cold, but we are all shedding layers at the end of this steep climb. Amy promises this is the last of the sheer steps on the trail. She’s chosen her words carefully.
There are other groups scaling the mountain as we are - but there are decent gaps between us, and this results in a procession of lights being visible far ahead and well behind. Ive just changed the battery in my headlamp, so its shining like a mini spotlight - even then if I turn my head to the side of the track to illuminate the track I can probably only see twenty metres or so. We are so lucky to live in a world where we have conquered the night and all its challenges. That we can even hike through such land without fear at night shows our dominance. Whether that’s a good thing or not is a different argument.
The moon reflects the ground that we cannot see in its burnt orange colour - perhaps a reflection of the suns light filtering through the atmosphere. Amy says she’s never seen it this colour on all the trips she’s taken through here - so it’s fairly special. As we trudge through the darkness in single file, it sinks below the horizon, a fiery egg taking its place in the orbital dance. This leaves us with almost two hours before sunrise with no moon, and a bevy of stars waiting to be illuminated by the dimming of our headlamps. After everyone has been to the toilet and taken a snack from their packs, the headlamps are all turned off, and we are left to crane our necks and gaze upon the grace of our night sky.
This ranks among the top things I have seen on this trip. To see the Milky Way so clearly, a smattering of stars smeared into the appearance of a cloud. It’s rare to see the spiral arm presented in such high fidelity. I was even able to take a picture with my phone that almost shows it - I’m impressed by that fact as usually this should not be possible. From this point there is about forty five minutes left of hike until the top of Sonder.
The pace might not be too fast, but the steepness of it accounts for the heaving of my lungs required to propel me up the hill. My right leg has been the one to offer the most complaints over this journey (feeling like I’ve pushed it hard at the gym after some time off), and I have been wary not to push myself too hard, especially on that leg - what a shame it would be to properly injure myself on this trail. But even it seems to be excited by reaching the top and does not pain quite so much as before, even as this is likely the hardest trek we’ve done over the five days.
Reaching the blustery top we are greeted with the true summit to the east of us (slightly to the south as we’d find out). We’ve arrived just as the first light it breaching the horizon, giving deep purples and red hues against the night sky. The stars are still visible, and the line of the planets is clear to see. The sun rises by seven am, and the surrounding landscape is illuminated piece by piece - the ripples of the landscape rise out of the darkness looking like the tops of clouds at first, the light reveals them to be a pockmarked vista of land bunched up and breaching the flat plains - reminders of the extreme activity that took place here millions of years ago, still in place even after all of the erosion of those millennia.
Around the other side of the peak runs the longest shadow in the souther hemisphere, so long that the end of it bends above the horizon, cast on what appears to be empty space. The walk down gives more time to look at this marvel as well as to appreciate the landscape we have walked through in darkness.
Now fully illuminated, the scale of what we have climbed is clear to see - again the green and gold of the bush stands out. The west McDonnell ranges look like a rainbow road streaking down the country, and it’s easy to see how they resemble the caterpillar as told in indigenous stories of them.
I just want to get to the bottom oh the hill. I’m exhausted and ready for some sleep. All I can think about is the promise of my bed at home. But its gonna be a week or so before I’m afforded this luxury. Back to camp for a big breakfast of bacon eggs and hamburgers - then the camp is quickly packed up and we’re on our way back to Alice. Before I know it, I’m deposited back at the caravan park. Dad’s just left and I have to call him using Siri because I can’t see my phones screen, owing to it breaking after it went for a swim in Ormiston Gorge. He gets back while I’m on the toilet, and once I’m out I see Logan. He’s not sure who I am at first, but after a good sniff, he’s got it all figured out.
It’s been so much more than I ever could have anticipated, and after a few days rest, I’ll be wishing I was back out there.












