12 Sep: coastal walk

Spurred on by a photo of a rock cleft along the Tomaree Coastal Path, I was determined to go see it on real life. The parallels between the headland to headland coastal trail of the Camino del Norte & what I knew of the TCP, was not lost on me. This would be a good emotional as well as physical preparation. 

My research also revealed some possible benefits from eating dried fruit, nuts & peanut butter along the trail. They are calorie dense & will help keep energy up. 

So, stocked up on dried mango & banana, trailmix &  bananas, I hit the trail. And as it turned out, the trail hit me back. Arriving on the coast on a headland south of "clothing optional" Samurai Beach, i immefiately noticed the surf was up! Large rumbling waves smashed the crimson rock fortress of headland & I was half expecting the ground to tremble with every collision. It didn't but I never lost the expectation. 

The upside was that the cooling seaspray kept the nudie lurkers away. In fact there were very few people anywhere. 

Turning southwards down onto a heavilu eroded One Mile Beach I needed to skirt along the top of the beach beside a snad cliff. This was wild, the mist cooled but also added a dreamy sense to the scene. Storm scum drifted across the sand. Woohoo, this is living, the pounding surf and stiff onshore breeze filled me with good raw energy. 

Closer to OMB car park pairs of hopeful surfers wandered north in full rubber suits looking for a decent break. There were none, the waves were breaking heavily out wide & rushing the beach. But noobie surfers are a bit silly, keen & less fussy than seasoned veterans; in they went anyway.

At the far south end of the one mile beach the headland reached skywards. Gulp, I avoided looking up to negotiate m the first few boulders & puddles on the sand. The trail was invariably steep, narrow, with occasional bush steps & a few boulders & tree roots. They all demanded my full attention. A handful of days out from Spain, tje lady thing I needed was an  injury. Skirting the headland on contour afforded good views of the sea & the beach where I had just walked.

Over the top  I was rewarded with the exact image I was after, the rocky cleft. 

 It looks tame in a photo, but it sent chills thinking about being caught on its wash. The walking around here was sporadically treacherous. There were no flat spots, just stepping from one uneven boulder to the next. A lack of attention could easily result in a twisted ankle, stubbed toe or fall. I had to consciously ease my natural pace, stand straighter & ease my feet into every step. I found my guts tighten with the strain & guarded uneven breathing. The coastine opened to the south, a row of headlands & coves in crimson rock lashed by white cascades of foam, the sound was overpowering. There were pockets of rugged beauty In between exposed rock platforms clung coastal heath; melaleuca, forest oak, acacia (wattle) & a colourful understory of flowering native bushes right down to delicate pink orchards. These plants were especially remarkable for their hardiness & delicate beauty. They weren't just surviving, they were thriving!

z

At Boat  Harbour I found a bench on which sit & have a nibble. Despite a lack of coffee the faire was tasty & nourishing. I walked another kilometer south before turning back. I was an hour & a half out,. I'm certain my mileage was down, but my thighs were protesting & that's what I needed.  Back onto Boat Harbour Beach I was amazed to see two ancient dogs chasing a tennis ball into the surf. With the ball in his mouth the lead dog raised his forequarters over each breaking wave almost vertical in the surf. Their racketeering owner was a tad heartless, & when the breathless must returned their quarry he simply belted it over the waves again.  Tough dogs! 

I wasn't actually feeling great about the return leg; the rock walking had been arduous & stressful.  But once started it came easy. For some reason, heading north, the trail whatever it was, was easier to follow. I discovered little alleys through rocks & even laid stepping stones. This was the real path! My spirits & speed lifted. 

Even the One Mile Beach walk was easier. The tide had fallen further, the sand was fitm & I was able to cut the corner off the curve of the beach. I took my shoes off & enjoyed a gentle sand massage & occasional cleansing with seawater. 

Unfortunately I delayed putting my shoes on by the Samurai head long enough to stub my toe. This accident was the result of tiredness, rough ground but also my ageing vision.  A cataract in my left eye confuses my clarity of depth judgement & can easily misjudge my footfall by a few inches. This made it clear that I should opt for boots over sandals when in Spain, I need the extra protection. Today's slog also swung my pendulum away from the big Osprey pack towards my little ,28l Macpac. If there was a lesson from today it was that coastal headland hopping, while beautiful, is physically demanding & I need to travel light.