Travel Blog #9

So this is a little tricky to write. Partly because after I left Tasmania, I dove right into exploring the mainland of Australia. And party because it’s bittersweet. Tasmania has been the focus of my attention for what feels like an eternity. I got the idea for traveling to Australia while I was in Alaska in 2023, and Tasmania became the focal point of that idea sometime early in 2024. In a way, my fixation exploring Tasmania is what propelled me through the slightly tumultuous and harrowing experience of having 3 surgeries after returning from Alaska. Without going too deep into that experience, especially as many of you have lived it with me and are probably tired of hearing about it, it was a challenging time. I think I needed something to focus on, something to hold on to when my tenacity and resilience threatened to crumble around me. I knew that I wanted to go to Tasmania and play in the woods. I HAD to go to Tasmania. I wanted to hike as much as possible, do multi-night backpacking trips, spend my days walking amongst the trees and mountains. (I originally wanted to get back to running / ultra running and run the mountains of Tasmania, but we can’t have it all.) So I had to do the work. Go to PT, do what my PT told me to do (I certainly tried, Colleen!), go to the gym regularly. And more importantly, keep showing up. It’s amazing how something as small as breaking your leg can call into question your notions of mortality and physicality. How it can make you really consider how you want to spend your days on this planet, or how you want to spend your limited miles with a damaged knee.

As you may know, I get a bit obsessed with things. I hyper fixate on ideas or things and can’t really let go of them until they run their course. Australia, with Tasmania at the heart, was my fixation. Something inside me, something metaphysical, was pushing me towards Australia. It’s hard to explain or rationalize, and to be honest I don’t really care to, because it kept me on track. I couldn’t let go of this deeply felt sense that I must go to Australia. And that decision wasn’t easy by the way, which you’ll know if you had to deal with me complaining in the weeks before I left Montana (thanks Tom for putting up with me). I find that whenever I do something that is hard but feels right, all sorts of things pop up before I embark on said challenge. I call it Moving Theory as it most often happens when moving. Before moving or making a big change, you might find an enticing job opportunity, make new friends, discover new things about your town that are special, meet an exceptionally cute girl that you connect with surprisingly well. That sort of thing. They all make you question the “why” of what you’re doing. Which I found tricky because my reasons were pretty simple: big trees, hiking, seeing and trying new things. In short: enjoying Life, The Universe, and Everything. Not that any of those reasons are poor in and of themselves, but my life was plenty good and didn’t necessarily require a full change. But the calling was there, and I couldn’t ignore it. Especially if the primary reason is because of fear. My mother and I talk about this often, that you want to do something but it’s really scary or intimidating, you should probably do that thing. So I did the dang thing. Like that John Muir quote you see on Subaru Outback T-shirts and National Park swag: “The mountains are calling, and I must go.”

My experience in Tasmania gave the full the gamut of life’s experiences and emotions: ebullience, anger, sadness, joy, longing, loneliness, surprise, contentment, discontentment, fear, empowerment, melancholy, mirth, gratitude, love, awe, wonder. You get the gist. It felt like I lived 4 years of life in 4 months. It was so intense. On the whole, I had a lot more time than I ever have to devote to explore and think. As my friend Dave Dranchak remarked, I was basically on a long term walking mediation. And in a lot of ways, he’s right. One of the most interesting parts of the trip was that I could spend more time than I ever could, following trains of thought all the way to their natural conclusion, or until at least they jumped off the tracks. I got to spend an entire day reflecting and reminiscing on 2025. I listened to songs that reminded me of important people in my life and spent time thinking of those people, reflecting on my gratitude for them. I pondered and pontificated about the nature of change, presence, friendship, family, being alone vs loneliness, the importance of making art, what it means to have a home or stability or security or grounding, etc. I already think about these things, but in my “normal” life I rarely feel like I have the time or attention span to devote long periods of time working through them. I’m incredibly grateful for this space because I’ve been able to question, well, everything, and get a better idea of what I appreciate and value in this world. That may or may not sound like a good time to you, but I actually quite enjoy it. I also couldn’t help it. Everything was new and unbalanced so I was also just trying to make sense of my new reality. I probably didn’t come up with that many firm answers, and I certainly have more questions than when I started.

I’m sure I’ll be reflecting and discovering changes for years to come as well. There was growth, that's for sure. So much growth it’s kind of insane. I suppose that’s what travel is for though, huh? Or perhaps, it’s what travel can do for you if you’re open and willing. I truly did not expect this trip to be a soul-searching type of trip. I’ve read lots of accounts of people who say their first trip they sought to discover the world and ended up finding themselves instead. I read that and thought, in my hubris, that that wouldn’t be me, that I didn’t need it, I'm already good. Ha! Hubris indeed.

I’m so very grateful for all the wonderful people I stayed with and worked with, the people who make the meat pies at Banjo’s, the smell of eucalypts after rainfall, sunsets, kookaburras laughing at 3 am, the relaxed and welcoming nature of Tasmanians, echidnas, my beautiful Ford Laser, sheep, TimTams, tuna and beans, white sandy beaches, free camping, the kindness of strangers, my tent+sleeping pad+quilt, echidnas, not getting bit by a snake, favorable conversion rates, locals that gave me tips on which mountains to climb, travelers who discussed environmental issues with me, technology that allows for phone calls and FaceTime calls to occur instantaneously from 10,000 miles away, echidnas, my friends and family that have kept me grounded (ish) and connected while I’ve been away, eucalyptus regnans for surpassing my exceptions, Tasmania for exceeding my dreams. And Echidnas (they're literally the cutest).

Nights in tent: 21

Nights in car: 4

Snakes I saw: 12

Snakes I didn't see: better not to think about it

Snake bites: 0

Times I jumped, squeaked, shrieked, yelled, because of a snake: 12

Spiders: wow so many why are there so many spiders everywhere

Existential crises: more than you can shake a stick at. often caused by aforementioned snakes and spiders.

Times I said "wow!" in amazement: more than Owen Wilson has in all his movies combined.

Animals: heaps! I bet you can't guess my favorite!

Birds: tons! my favorite is the Native Tassie Hen. and the Superior Fairy Wren. They are the most spectacular blue. And what a name!

Kilometers driven: 6000ish

National Parks visited: 14 out of 19

Great Short Walks traversed: 31 out of 60

My favorite hikes (in no particular order. pics are in

Mount Roland

Walls of Jerusalem

Mount Amos

Mount Rufus

Tarn Shelf

Cape Raoul

Leven Canyon

Bishop and Clerk

Fluted Cape

Cradle Mountain

Ford Laser - this little legend got me around with nearly no problems. I got to see and experience so much because of it. My favorite times are riving around the Mount Field listening to old Nashville hits, riding the highways around Tassie listening to Tash Sultana and my Aussie music playlist, jamming to Cory Wong in the North West, to name a few. Not to mention the semi-sleepless nights, the peanut butter sandwiches before and after hikes, the endless “wow!”’s emanating from me as a gawk at the beaches and mountains around Tasmania. Goodonya, Laser.