One of us pashed a Texan snake enthusiast in a gorge, another yelled “it looks like I’ve just murdered a man with my bare hands” while emptying her bloody moon cup, and the other, deep in an audiobook exploring the intersections of feminism, proudly hoisted her leg onto a rock face when the wind was just right, pushed her shorts and undies to the side, and did a wee without taking her hiking pack off.

At the end of March 2021, I stuffed my Osprey backpack full of Radix dehydrated food (nutritionally dense, lightweight and delicious), strapped my ultra-lightweight Helinox chair to the outside (a luxury item I couldn’t go without) and tucked my Tevas into the side pouch. I had sunscreen bottles hanging from a carabiner, my water bladder hose trailing out the top, and my bright orange trowel sitting in a front pocket. I hitched all 18 kilograms of it onto my back and strolled into Sydney Airport and out of Alice Springs brimming with excitement. I was about to hike the Larapinta trail, all 230 kilometres of her on the rugged Arrernte Country.

The lead-up to Larry, as we fondly called her, wasn’t smooth. Rhianna twisted her ankle and was couch-bound for weeks. Then she busted her shoulder. It cost almost $1000 in physio appointments to get her moving. Sally had a bedbound health hiccup too. Then, the day before she was due to leave, when a Masters assignment was about to be submitted, her computer died and she lost everything. The computer repairman said something like “we’ve never seen a laptop die so badly”. I, on the other hand, fell out of a hammock and wound up in hospital with fears of a broken ankle. On top of this, all of us were busy running businesses and navigating staff and stock supply and client needs. Covid fears were still present. We did what we could to stay positive and juggle the chaos, so when we left Alice Springs airport with our gear in tow, you betchya there was an audible sigh of relief. We bloody made it.

For 15 days Rhianna and I battled hordes of mosquitoes, stamped our feet in our tents to fend off howling dingos, and navigated ex-boyfriends who happened to be on the trail at the same time. We clambered across ridgelines at first and last light, navigated through hip-high grass and hip-high river crossings, and crawled up and over impossibly high boulders with 18kg packs on our backs when the 30+ degree days had us dripping with sweat. Sally joined us for a section or two, in between bouts of painting by gorges and river red gums.

Section 3, 4 and 5 were the most challenging for us, mostly due to the shoulder-high grass and wet creekbeds as a result of the recent rains, so it was good to get these sections done early. In hindsight, gaiters would have been appreciated. The ‘pricklies’ got into our socks and we regularly had to stop, slide our fingers into the sides of our boots and fish them out.

My sensitive bowels really had me moving in the early mornings, hurriedly digging holes to shit into while the sky was still dark. One morning, 6 barely visible mounds were sprinkled on the landscape, while I moaned and groaned in my tent in nothing but my underwear.

Rhianna and I walked at different paces. Every hour or two I would find what slither of shade was available and sit there and wait for her, hauling out a book (yes, I packed multiple!) and some snacks. I impulsively bought walkie talkies from an adventure store before I left, and it turned out to be the best purchase. We could check in, confirm the route ahead and feel safe knowing we could communicate should something awful happen.

In truth, I hadn’t trained all that much. In the 3 months leading up, I went on one overnight hike (and earned myself blisters so bad I could barely walk) and went to the gym 6 times to work on my muscle strength. I am a fit person, but I’m not one of those run-5km-after-work-every-day kind of people, or an I-play-sport-twice-a-week person either. Strengthening muscle groups and confidence navigating a heavy pack is all you need.

Otherwise, if you’re planning a trip to this majestic and sacred country, here are 12 quick tips:

Camp on the Hilltop Lookout on Section 11. The sun rising and setting in front of Mount Sonder was my favourite site to see. Of course, you’ve got to camp on Brinkley Buff on Section 4 as well.
If you’re not doing it solo, pack walkie talkies and enough batteries for your time.
Definitely hike up Mount Sonder at sunrise.
Make sure your dehydrated food is nutritionally sound. You’ll be burning calories like no tomorrow and you’ll need the strength.
Throw your drop sheet under your tent or under your camping mattress. Those prickly bastards got into my mattress and now that thing deflates within two hours.
Organise your food drops and Mount Sonder pickup through Larapinta Trail Trek Support. Zak and the team are incredible. They are huge advocates for solo hikers, and massive supporters of women doing bold and audacious things (~68% of the trail hikers are women too!).
Bring mosquito repellent, and do so in cream/liquid form. The mozzies were like nothing else (particularly after the rain!), and cream would have given us better coverage than the spray.
Definitely bring walking poles. I know, most people think hiking poles are for losers. I’m a recent convert and I’ll never go back.
Audiobooks saved my life. I listened to the entirety of the Wool series by Hugh Howey, Beauty by Bri Lee, Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell and Feminism Interrupted by Lola Olufemi. I also packed and read The Well-Gardened Mind by Sue Stuart-Smith (would recommend) and a book of sudokus, which I dug into in the evenings.
Bring Tevas/sandals/something similar. All you’ll want to do at the end of each day is haul your pained feet out of your boots.
We began Larry in Alice Springs and walked with the sun behind us into Tjoritja (West MacDonald Ranges) to Mount Sonder. We couldn’t imagine doing it any other way. We would start walking at first light, and often be finished by 2 or 3pm. Pumping through that morning with the sun on our backs was much better than the sun on our faces and in our eyes. I recommend hikers walk it the way it was designed.
The Cool Mint Chocolate Clif bar is the supreme protein bar for your journey. Just like a chocolate mint slice, yum yum.

15 Days Hiking the Larapinta Trail