Worth the walk, at any pace

The lure of the Cape to Cape Track, with its 135km of stunning coastal scenery and good hiking between Cape Naturaliste and Cape Leeuwin lighthouse had long beckoned. There was also the personal challenge of doing this long trek and at 58, I decided there was no more time to delay.

My daughter reminded me that to fail to walk the entire length of the track would be no disgrace. This echoed the good advice I have imparted over the years - advice which, in truth, we've both largely ignored.

I started by taking the bus from Perth to Dunsborough (the closest that public transport comes to the start of the track) and hitched a lift the last 13km.

Like most people I would meet over the next few days the driver took a keen interest in my adventure. The consistent but often unstated response was: "Wow, I'm impressed . . . but I hope you know what you are doing, old fellow."

Nonetheless, I set off confidently. It was mild and sunny, the ocean reflected the deep blue of the sky above and the flies were kept at bay by a net that separated me from them. All was well in the world.

The track made its way up, down and along a series of limestone cliffs, delivering sweeping views over the Indian Ocean, wide sandy beaches and breaking surf.

The final stretch into Yallingup was along the beach. I felt like a displaced person as I padded slowly along the sand in my boots with rucksack and walking stick, while all around me holiday-makers, wearing the minimum required for decency, lay soaking up the sun.

I pitched my tent in a caravan park that provided the luxury of a shower and camp kitchen. At the general store I bought food to last the next day-and-a-half until I arrived at Gracetown.

Planning to have sufficient drinking water is necessary throughout the length of the track. It becomes particularly important outside of high rainfall periods when natural sources such as springs and rainwater tanks dry up.

My second night would be at Moses Rock campsite, one of four along the track providing basic facilities. With no guarantee of water in its rainwater tank, I set off with extra, hoping its weight and that of the food didn't make my rucksack too heavy.

I had more than 20km to walk that included steep climbs, sandy tracks and stretches of beach.

I reached Canal Rocks, the most impressive of a number of granite outcrops at intervals along the coast that dissect the dominant limestone scenery. The granite's wrinkled exterior makes this outcrop look like two lines of partially submerged sea elephants, survivors from ancient times.

Unfortunately, I was struggling with the weight of my rucksack and had some sharp pain, particularly in my right shoulder. Luckily, the painkillers in my first aid kit worked magic. I also discovered my favourite chocolate bar, rich in peanuts, provided an energy hit when I was flagging (it was the first of 17 that I ate over the following days).

There was water at the campsite and I resolved to carry less in future, returning my rucksack to a manageable weight. Dirty and sweaty I would have loved a shower but there was no such facility.

The tranquillity and solitude of camping alone in the bush, with the sound of the ocean breaking against the shore, was considerable compensation.

Day three was another long stretch of more than 20km, mainly along a line of cliffs that headed south. It was hard work but I was finding a rhythm, as well as enjoying the scenery and a sense of achievement.

I camped that evening at the track campsite not far from historic Ellensbrook House before walking to Prevelly the following day. At my hostel accommodation I was given my own room in deference to my age. To shower and wash my clothes was bliss.

The following day this chocolate-fuelled tortoise moved at a steady 2km/h over the 19km to the Contos Field Campsite, arriving before dark. The late afternoon sun brought a silvery translucent hue to the stunning coastal views I'd enjoyed over the past two hours. Those over Contos Beach and past the rocky outcrops towards Cape Freycinet were the sort you hope to etch into your memory.

I had another 45km to travel over three days but I was tiring and both Achilles' were sore, so although the scenery remained sensational I was less able to appreciate it.

On the next afternoon I reached the start of a 6km hike along Boranup Beach that would take me into Hamelin Bay.

On entering the beach I was stunned by its beauty. I felt privileged to be there. However, before too long I began to experience the beach as the wilderness place it can be.

My progress was slow and exhausting in the heat and soft sand. I moved to the hard sand at the water's edge and allowed my boots to become sodden. "You look buggered," was the first thing said to me after I squelched off the beach. Later, I learnt this was where some hikers call it a day and order a taxi out.

Following a short walk the next day, I spent my last night at the track campsite behind Deepdene Beach. I was in bed as the sun went down. By 2am I had been driven out of it by an acute itchiness induced by the insect bites that covered my legs. These marauders had treated my repellent with complete disdain.

At 3.40am I re-entered the beach. It was dark and looking south I could see the Southern Cross in a clear sky amid millions of other bright stars.

A few metres away I could hear - but not see - the breaking of waves on the shore. Then, at the end of the long curved coastline, from a distance of 15km, the Leeuwin Lighthouse winked at me. I took that as a vote of confidence and was buoyed.

Over the next three hours as I made my way along the beach I watched the sunrise send a spray of soft pinks and yellows to fill the coastal canvas. This sense of wellbeing dissipated as the sun rose higher and the morning became hot.

I had lost my fly net. I was covered in an unrelenting swarm, a number of which I digested. Coughing, spluttering and swearing proved no deterrent. My right Achilles gave way and the left was seriously considering doing the same. Both screamed when I travelled downhill.

And so, on the eighth day, I hobbled into Cape Leeuwin. Not sure whether to celebrate or feel foolish, this old fellow was pondering his daughter's advice.

FACT FILE

• The Cape to Cape Track Guidebook (4th Edition) by Jane Scott and Ray Forma has maps, photographs and a detailed description of the route. The occasions I got lost were those when I thought I could do without it.

• I found the two strip maps, Walk the Cape to Cape Track 1 and 2, produced by the Western Australian Department of Environment and Conservation, to be more useful when planning the route beforehand. They come in a rip-resistant material and are clear and informative - a map lover's delight.