Blog 324 – Falling Off the Mountain in Papua New Guinea, Part 1 – 28 August 2025
This is a photo of the group of people with whom I trekked the Kokoda track from Sunday 3 August up to and including Sunday 10 August 2023. I have done hundreds (perhaps thousands) of kilometres of walking in my life. The Kokoda Track in Papua New Guinea was the hardest and most dangerous walking that I have ever done. I am surprised and grateful that somehow, I am still alive. I am wearing the yellow cap in the front row.
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This is my trekking group on Sunday the 10th of August 2025 when we had finished our journey through the Kokoda Track. I am in the second row on the far right wearing the yellow cap.
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I flew from Adelaide to Brisbane on Saturday the 2nd of August 2025. From Brisbane, I flew to Port Moresby in Papua New Guinea.
On Sunday the 3rd of August, the trekking party that I was with, flew from Port Moresby to Popondetta on the north coast of Papua New Guinea.
In Popondetta, we clambered aboard the back of an old truck which drove us to the start of the Kokoda Track in the town of Kokoda. The agony of walking the Kokoda Track commenced later that afternoon.
The aspect of the Kokoda Track that is so difficult to grasp until you start walking is that nearly every centimetre of the Track is either up mountains at an angle of about 80 degrees – or down a mountain at an angle of about 80 degrees. Because the Kokoda track (or Kokoda Trail) has the word “Track” in its name, we automatically assume that the walking will be on a recognisable track. Assuming that there is a recognisable track when you walk the Kokoda track is a big mistake. I seriously doubt that even a mountain goat would ever claim that the Kokoda track deserves to be called a “track”, because if the mountain goat ever did make this claim, the goat would be flat out lying.
Details of the layout of the Kokoda track can wait for the moment.
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On Thursday the 7th of August, I was walking along a very unusual feature of the Track. The Track was recognisably a track and it hugged the side of a mountain. This stretch of track lasted for perhaps 20 metres before resuming its more normal steep uphill climb (or downhill plunge). I must have become slightly less careful, because my right foot caught on a tree root.
Within a blink of an eye, I was rolling straight down the mountain.
As I rolled and gathered speed, I saw a tree on my right. I tried to grab it and failed. I kept rolling and gathered more speed.
Next, I saw another tree flashing up on my legs. I tried to hook the tree with my legs and failed. I kept rolling and gathered even more speed.
I was at least 4 metres down the mountain when another tree flashed up on my right. Somehow, I snagged the tree and stopped rolling.
As soon as I stopped, 4 wonderful porters leapt down the mountain and grabbed me. They immediately dragged me back up the mountain and back onto the track.
Then the porters dragged me back into a standing position.
I placed my feet on the ground.
I decided I had no broken bones in my legs, so I immediately started walking again.
I was shocked I was still alive and still able to walk.
The porters were even more shocked.
I kept thinking “The only way out is the only way in”. This meant I had to resume walking.
I walked for the remainder of that Thursday.
I walked throughout the whole of Friday 8 August and Saturday 9 August.
The final day of walking was Sunday 10 August.
The walk on that day was supposed to take only 4 hours. It took me 7 ½ hours to walk to the top of the mountain leading to Owers Corner. Once I sat down at the end of the final day of walking, I could not get up again without help.
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On Tuesday 12 August after I had returned to Adelaide, I discovered I had walked with a dislocated left shoulder. I know this because this was the day the physiotherapist put the left arm back into the shoulder socket.
An x-ray later that week revealed that as well as walking with a dislocated shoulder, I had walked with broken bones in my left shoulder.
I was in great pain as I completed my walk to the end of the Kokoda Track. Despite the pain, I knew I would be able to complete the walk. My wonderful but deceased wife Margaret – who died on 22 August 2023 – kept reassuring me that I would be able to finish. She was certain that I did not need to ask the trek leader to use his satellite phone to ask for rescue by helicopter.
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