RE-DISCOVERING THE JOURNEY OF MULTI-DAY RUNNING

Contributed by Michael Douglas, AURA member

Bellingen to Brunswick Heads NSW solo run, mid-2021

The journey of the runner is one of re-discovery. My experience has been that the appetite for running in my younger years has continued to find its satiation, albeit in different forms. From track to roads, to trails, to coasts and mountains. There has been a constant in all of that – a wonderful joy that has been found in all its forms, yet mostly so in its longer forms.

In mid-2021 I embarked upon a multi-day run on the coastal stretch of northern NSW, from Bellingen to Brunswick Heads. It was again full of new discovery, with imposing questions and deep satisfaction.

THE WHAT

The brief was simple: run the northern rivers. Shine a light on the rivers and estuaries – their beauty and their promise. That was it: from the Bellinger River to the Brunswick River. Twenty plus creeks and river crossings, along a coastline of extraordinary and diverse beauty. All in all, about 300km over four days, about 60 – 80km a day. Time was not the agenda – rather understanding perseverance and absorbing the many moments of contemplation.

I was supported by my good wife – who moved a little ahead of me with supplies, set up camp, and provided her soothing hands of comfort. The first 20km was along farming roads on the north bank of the Bellinger River, from Bellingen to Myelstom. From there it was coastal – and lots of it! I pushed up along the beaches to Sawtell and Coffs Harbour, overnighting at Emerald Beach. This country was familiar to me, having run the wonderful Red Rock to Coffs jetty (hosted by the indomitable Steel Beveridge) on a number of occasions. A blend of sand, a few tricky headlands and pleasant creeks. Then onto Red Rock, Wooli Wooli Creek and Sandon River.

Some beautiful remote beach shrouded by rich coastal forest and heath. The rivers a little more challenging – which embraced wading, swimming, ferry, a dinghy on one crossing and hitching a ride on a kayak at Sandon. I concluded Day 2 at Broom’s Head, having covered just shy of 80km for the day.

Day 3 was perhaps the most challenging. There had been some heavy rain through the night, a pre-dawn start at high-ish tide and a good current in chest deep water just a few minutes in provided an ominous warning for the day. A scamper along the beach to Lake Aragon in the morning rain, I then picked up the magnificent Coastal Track through stunning heathland and coastal vistas through to Angourie and then onto Yamba. A wait for the ferry across the Clarence River provided welcome rest and a chance to dry out. A little bitumen from Iluka to Woody Head and then onto a 35km beach. My destination for the day: Evans Head. One might have thought this is as good as one could hope for – middle of the day, a vast stretch of beach and the lowest of tides. 

And yet, the rain had abated, the sun scorched, blisters emerging and a ruptured drink bottle left me struggling to an extent. Sun-burnt, sore feet, dry, and pondering the possibilities of a rising tide. The afternoon required a bit of a detour through some airforce land, and the luxury of a cabin at Evans Head to recuperate was balm.

Day 4 began with 30km of beach commencing at high tide through to the Richmond River at South Ballina. While the river there is about 100 metres across at this point, the wrap around on the road is about 13km. This put me on familiar ground, and I was able to re-establish a steady rhythm with a further 36km of trail and beach up through Lennox Head, Broken Head and gentle running into Byron Bay on dark. The final morning – 14km along the beach up to the Brunswick River – was a shared activity. I was joined by a number of family and community to walk up this pristine shoreline, providing a sense of common achievement and appreciation of our coastal beauty. 

THE WHY

There is a seductive calling to spend a handful of days along stunning shores, doing what we love to do. It is a blend of many things – the physical effort, challenging fatigue, strengthening and exploring horizons outward and inward. I love running events – the camaraderie, friendly competition and personal challenges. Yet there is something in solo as well. Running can be a very private thing, a reflective, meditative journey of rhythm, breathing and quiet. It is an exploration of thought – without thinking; a series of ponderous moments stitched together by step after step. I think that this was my driver for this effort – seeking a positive antidote to a very hectic workload in navigating the response to the COVID pandemic.

I sought the blessings of the indigenous elders as I moved through their country. “Call out” Uncle Charles, of Yaegl country, told me: ask for the spirits to guide you. “Allow the land and the rivers and the skies to speak to you”. Perhaps I should not have been surprised at how profound or even emotive that this wisdom was. Towards dusk, on the eve of my beginning in the middle of Bellingen township, immersed in water, we called out with Aunty Allison, a Gumbainggir elder, at the tops of our voices that the spirits might guide us. My old friend Emma, of the Bundjalung nation, welcomed my footfall as I left the sands of Woody Head. Her sagely wisdom echoing as the sea eagle hovered above the vast and lonely beach. I was not alone, present with the journeys of those over tens of thousands of years. I felt deeply at one with that.

Why do we run? Why explore the limits of our endurance, explore the mental tenacity and the physicality of our frail bodies? It has, for me, always held both mystery and joy. There is something simply beautiful in running in a storm, or putting the head down into a headwind, reaching a blistering summit, or even simply quenching one’s thirst. And more than that. There is the inner journey, the exploration of thought, the understanding of capability, the dwelling on beauty, the seeking of silence and the awakening of senses and sensibilities. 

All this in a run over a few days. In the lands of beauty and of spirits. And a body of strength and of frailty. Why would we not run?

Pictured: Michael Douglas as he runs his multi-day. Photograph – Supplied.