Mishaps.

'You're not worthy of a uniform. You're but an amoebae.' Words stuck in my mind forever. Day 1 of compulsory military service.

I'd just come back from Thailand. I was tanned. And in shock. I was standing in a corridor, looking like a confused car mechanic wearing an oversized blue overall. The overall us unworthy beings had to contend with.

'Today you will do some navigating. And you will be cold. And wet.'

It was January, and the sun of Southeast Asia was but a faint memory.

What I remember most from this day, which is probably the reason I remember it at all, is getting lost. Very lost.

Feeling the anxiety and stress build up inside, time was ticking and me and B, my buddy for the day, were not good at this. 'Look, there's a stream there. That must be this one' B said as he pointed at the map he was holding in front of us. I trusted B, he was definitely the better navigator.

With time running out, and freezing cold water between us and where we needed to be, we decided to go for it. I remember the air being pushed out of my lungs as the cold hit me as I waded into the water. It was deeper than it looked. With a soft sludge like surface on the bottom.

We spent hours trying to get back. Exhausted, wet and cold. we finally got back to an unimpressed Lieutenant, satisfied that his take on our unworthiness was indeed correct.

I remember this day like it was yesterday.

Years later and I managed to time a four day hike with a rarely experienced deluge. I was hiking from one lighthouse to another. A years worth of rain in a couple of days apparently. The tracks were filled with water and whilst I kept everything in my pack dry, I was soaked. 'So we reckon the stream ahead is too much. We stood there and looked at it but we just can't cross it'. The two only other walkers I'd seen all day told me.

I had a choice. There was enough daylight to walk back to the camp I came from. There was an access road to it and whilst a 30km diversion, I could get to my destination without crossing that stream.

My mind wandered back to a different time. To that cold stream. 'I'll give it a go, can't be that bad'.

Walking was slow but easy. There was a beauty in the water. Life after what had been bushfire not long before it. Suddenly I could hear it. The loudish sound of flowing water, pushing itself around rocks and trees. It grew louder and louder until I could see it. It was a stream alright, but shallow and not something that would worry me. I wondered about the walkers I'd met. Questioning why they'd told me it was too much.

Feeling relaxed and happy about my choice to push on I suddenly hear it again. The unmistakable sound of rushing water. And it sounded worse than before. Much worse.

It was not good. After a few minutes of contemplation I made my way up from the track and along the stream through heavy vegetation. Was there a better spot? Is this ever safe to cross? Maybe I was in the wrong place?

I wasn't, and there was only one place where I'd even attempt to cross and that was were the path ended.

Ok, never take the boots off. Cut your feet on a rock and you're stuffed. And you need a solid grip. Also, unclip the pack so that you can get it off quickly if you slip. What else? Are there stones covering me from the worst of the force?

I took a few minutes to steel myself into trying. I was already drenched, so getting wet wasn't an issue. I couldn't really see how deep the water was though. In I went. Suddenly I felt that feeling of the air being squeezed out of my lungs. The water was immediately chest high, and I was pinned onto a large boulder to my left. The force of the water made it difficult to move my legs. I quickly climbed up out of the stream. That was not going to work.

I had only one choice left. Find a spot, put a tent up and sit it out. With the constant rain, everything was wet. I did find a flat area under some tree but they'd been burnt to a crisp not long before, so I felt it would be unwise to stay it out there (risk of falling limbs and all that).

Eventually I found a spot. It was uneven and wet but it was ok. Took me twice the time it normally takes to get the tent up, all whilst keeping my gear as dry as possible.

I slept well that night. And woke up to a view. The suns rays warming my face as I watched it rise. It was still wet all around me. But an amazing feeling. I felt alive.

I decided to make my way back to the camp I'd left the day before. As I walked along the beach I saw two guys sitting on a dune. Watching. What must a mate of theirs was out there. It was still pretty wild weather, but somehow it didn't look like something that would bother them.

'How are you going? So can't cross the stream further down the track, just too much water. Stream is not safe to cross. Did you guys drive down the access track?' I said, hoping that I could somehow get a lift. I was running out of time and walking would mean doing so for a few hours in the dark. Not ideal.

'Yeah, my car. Want a lift?'. Long haired, drawling accent and somebody immediately striking me as a good guy. 'Yeah, that would be amazing'.

'I used to be a ranger here. Now I do tours in the wilderness area. I'll show you a spot'. I looked around his car. It was the car of a man living a life in and around nature. Gear, boots, boxes. All functional.

'That's it, look at it. Luckily some of it didn't burn'. He pointed from the clearing we'd stopped at. Along the road you wouldn't even know what was there if you hadn't been told about it. 'I sometimes sit here and just look at it. It's good yeah'. It was a stunning view. It did look like endless wilderness with a turquoise edged beach stretching along the endless green of the forest.

It was a few days where most things didn't turn out. It was not the hike I'd planned. But it is because of the mishaps I remember it.