The Kosciusko Fiasco

                It didn’t occur to me until I started writing this post and put a date on it that I haven’t written in almost four weeks.  I had no idea time was passing so fast!  I’m really sorry to family members and friends who may have been kept in the dark because of this.  I’ll really try to update more and let everyone know I’m alive once in awhile!  I promise!  Also, this post is really long, so I hope you’re on a comfortable couch, Grandma and Papa. J

                Because it’s been almost a month, a lot of stuff has happened.  So, I’m going to cut this into multiple posts.  First and foremost, I need to tell you all the details of what my friends and I are now calling “The Kosciusko Fiasco.”  This story has been told many a time in many a tongue, but I’ve never written it all in full detail, so here you go, worried relatives!

                Here at International House, I live with a lot of adventurous people living far, far from home.  This sense of adventure usually comes with a penchant for outdoor activities, so there’s a lot of hiking, camping, rock climbing, slacklining, kayaking, surfing, and lots of other stuff that goes on around here.  Australia is also just made to be enjoyed outdoors, so I tag along on lots of little hiking and camping expeditions.  One of the expeditions involved hiking to the top of the tallest mountain in Australia, Mount Kosciusko!  (Apparently it’s correctly pronounced <kush-USH-kuh> because some Polish dude named it, but we all say it like <kooz-ee-OSS-go>.)  I decided this trip would be awesome because “summited tallest mountain on the Australian continent” is a super impressive thing to put on a dating website profile, but also because the hike is apparently very short and relatively easy.  The park website states it’s a perfect day hike for families with small children.  Right up my alley.

                So the trip was planned for two days and two nights, since the mountain is a six-hour drive from UNSW’s campus, and camping is better than driving for six hours straight.  We rented two cars for this expedition, since a ton of us were going, which was kind of expensive.  Luckily, one of the girls coming with us, (I’ll call her Suzy to protect her privacy) had a personal car that her and her friend would be driving.  She had some homework to do, so while we waited for her to get ready, 11 of our planned group of 13 packed up tents, clothes, and food for two days into our two rental cars.

                About an hour after we were supposed to leave (Suzy is known for being late, and we weren’t in much of a rush, so we weren’t too mad,) we get a text from Suzy’s friend to our group chat, saying she “stayed up all night last night and is passed out right now.”  He told us to “go on ahead” and they would catch up.  This would all be fine, if we weren’t specifically relying on Suzy’s car to get us to where we need to go.  We were now stuck with two packed 5-person cars, 11 people, and a 6-hour drive ahead of us. 

                Because of Suzy’s reputation, we basically gave up on ever seeing her as soon as we got the text, and made a democratic decision to rent a third car.  It would cost an extra 30 bucks per person, but honestly, $30 is worth not having to contort my skeleton into a clown car for 6 hours.  We drove to the Sydney airport nearby, packed into our little cars, and rented out a third from the budget rental company there.  Finally, we were all set to go.

                After a rough start and 4 hours of driving, the first night camping really wasn’t so bad.  It was spent at a little campsite outside Canberra, the capital territory in Australia.  (It confuses me too, but apparently it’s like Washington, DC in the US.)  We had plenty of tents and layers of clothes to keep us warm through the chilly night, so the whole thing went off pretty well. (I personally didn’t sleep too well, but we planned to sleep at a little cabin on the mountain the next night, so I shrugged it off, knowing I’d get a better sleep up there.)

                The next morning, we packed up pretty quickly and drove the last two hours to Mount Kosciusko National Park.  The drive was beautiful, since we had to go through miles of national park to even get to our hiking trail.  We were just urging our little caravan of 3 rental cars up the steep hill to the parking area near the trailhead, when the first car in our caravan stopped abruptly to let someone pull out of a spot.  My car—the middle one in the caravan—stopped too, and then violently jerked and skidded and probably would have thrown me out of the car had I not been wearing a seat belt. 

                First, I thought we hit a huge rock,

                Then I mentally freaked out and thought we had popped a tire,

                Then as we finally skidded to a halt, I realized what really happened and bolted out of the car to check the one behind us.

                Turns out, that first car stopped way too fast, and the last car in the caravan rear-ended the middle one, which skidded into the front car, and also sideways into a parked Mercedes.  We had just both caused and experienced a 4-car crash on the top of a mountain.

                Well, shit.

                Of course the first thing we did was rush out of the cars and open up the one that was clouded with airbags and gunpowder smoke on the inside to make sure everyone was okay.  Everyone was.  Somehow, this 4-car accident had happened with no injuries other than some sore necks and a bruised arm.

                Once that was taken care of, we assessed the damage.  See above.  I think we all saw our lives—and bank accounts—flash before our eyes at the sight of two completely wrecked rental cars with minimal insurance on them, one severely dented (but still operational) rental car, and one sideswiped Mercedes.

                The first order of business was to call the police, insurance company, tow truck, rental company, car repair guys, anyone to help us out.  The problem was, we were in the asshole of nowhere in the middle of a national park just outside of Literally Nowhere.  Nobody had cell service, and there was no public facilities around that might have a landline.  Except, there was a little complex of buildings just down the hill that were part of a ski resort that opened up on the mountain in the winter.  There was no snow or people in sight down there, but it was our best hope, so a troupe of us set off to find someone—anyone—down there who could help.

                There, we found the first of our Guardian Angels; a middle-aged dad who was on holiday at this abandoned ski lodge with his family.  He had a landline in his house and agreed to let us use it to call whoever we needed.  So the three of us, hot and tired and very shaken up, sat down on his front porch with a phone book and started calling.

                First we rang the rental company, who told us to call the towing company, who told us they wouldn’t tow us without a police approval.  The police we called told us to call the local number (which was worryingly difficult to find,) where they said there was nothing they could do for us since there was no injuries nor criminal activity involved.  Eventually, after literal hours of endless phone calls, Guardian Angel Number Two answered the phone on the “police help line.”  He told us he would call the towing company and tell them to come get us, since they had refused before.

                Finally, after maybe two hours, the three of us hiked back up the hill to the site of the accident, where the rest of the group had been working on cleaning up the wreckage and pushing the cars out of the narrow road.  There, we sat in a big circle among twisted metal in the middle of the road, and ate our sad lunches of peanut butter rice crackers and cold canned spaghetti, waiting for the tow truck.

               Here you can see our circle of sad lost children in the road, and also the abandoned ski resort in the upper left!

               It took a total of four hours from the start of the accident, but eventually everything was cleaned up and towed away.  We were now left with 11 people in the middle of the national park at sunset with one working car.  Personally, I was very sleep-deprived, shocked, shaken, sad, and anxious, and all I wanted to do was get in our last car and drive straight back to my bed.  Somehow, everyone else, bless their hearts, convinced me to stay and do the hike like we came there to do.

                So we did.

                We put everything from the cars on our backs and headed out onto the trail as dusk was starting to fall.  We had planned to sleep at a little hut about an hour and a half into the trail, so even with this minor setback, we still made it there before dark.

                After a cold, pretty much sleepless night before, the hut was everything a camper could ever dream of.  It was completely shielded from the wind, equipped with window shutters, closing and locking doors, a wood-burning stove and even firewood provided to warm us up!  To us, this was pure luxury.  So we spent the night in there huddled around the fire, eating and drinking (someone brought a full bottle of fruity vodka for some reason??) and talking.  We even met a group of three women who were also doing the summit hike, and were camped outside the hut in a very professional-looking tent.  So we ate and drank and talked with them too!

                The night was nice, but my brain and body were completely fried from the stresses of the day.  I went to bed very early and slept ten straight hours.

               

                We got up early at around 5AM so that we could hike to the summit of Mt. Kosciusko to see the sunrise.  Somehow, I wasn’t even cranky when we woke up and trudged outside with our portable breakfasts to walk for an hour under the stars in the incredible silence of a national park at night.

                The scenery on the hike was just breathtaking.  I really wish I could have taken pictures in the dark, but my little camera just wasn’t up to the challenge.  The Australian bush is silent as the grave at night, which probably would have been super creepy if I wasn’t with a ton of other people.  We were up in a mountain range, so the views went on forever.  Vegetation created patterns of color and shadow in the landscape, and the moon and stars lit up little streams and lakes all over the place.  At this point, I did not regret my decision to stay another night in this park.

                EDIT: Apparently one of my friends with a fabulous camera took some night shots!  It really doesn't do the stars justice, but it's better than I could provide.

                Up on the summit of the mountain, we sat down and pulled out our cameras to watch the sun rise.  This time, I actually have pictures of what it looked like.

                Being up there in the cold silence of the morning as the sun slowly crept up is definitely being locked away as one of my favorite life memories.  Despite all we had been through the day before, and the troubles we faced ahead of us, everything just seemed so peaceful.  Nature is awesome.

                But, once the sun was fully up, reality hit.  We needed to find a way home.  With one car, no cell service, and no public transportation for miles, we were pretty short on options.  There were a few people among us who absolutely had to be back on campus by that night (including one who needed to catch a flight back to New Zealand,) so they rightfully called dibs on our last car.  6 of us were then left to find our own way home, which would possibly include spending the night at some campsite along the way if we couldn’t get directly back to Sydney in one day.

                Three boys found a ride halfway home right at the beginning, as we were walking back to the cars.  A nice couple offered to drive them to Canberra, where they would have to catch a bus back to Sydney.  They jumped on it immediately and left.

                Then there were three.

                Luckily, it was a holiday weekend, (Anzac Day; don’t ask me what it’s about because I still don’t know,) and this park is super popular, so there were a ton of people hiking along the same trail we just did.  So, we did the only thing we could do.  So my group of three set our stuff down between the parking area and the head of the trail, and started flagging down anyone mildly harmless-looking who was heading back to their cars.  The basic script went like this:

                “Are you from Sydney, by any chance?”

                “Are you heading back there tonight?”

                “Do you have space in your car?”

                “There’s three of us, we were in a wreck and we need to get back.”

                It was a pretty scary experience, honestly, not knowing where I was going to be sleeping that night.  But as many horror stories as I’ve heard from concerned parents about crazy hitchhiker-murderers, I was put slightly at ease at the fact that we were in a national park, surrounded by mostly young couples and families.  We were also able to talk to the people before they got in their cars, allowing us to judge their character a little better before we asked them anything. 

                Somehow, we spent only about an hour asking for a way home, when our Third Guardian Angel walked out of the trail.  We flagged down the lone guy who looked about our age, and generally not like a murderer.  As we asked the basic script questions, somehow we kept getting yeses to all of our questions.  As it turns out, he’s from a Sydney suburb right next to ours, driving back at that exact moment, and had three open seats in his Audi.

                We were saved!

                The drive back was mostly just the three of us laughing with giddy relief, making small talk to this angel named Jeffrey, and checking up on the other two groups to make sure they were getting back safely.  Six hours later, we pulled up right outside our campus.  We paid Jeffrey $50 for gas (he even refused it at first!) and our eternal gratitude for everything else.  We got our stuff out of the car, waved him off, and never saw that beautiful soul again.  Jeffrey, if you’re out there somehow reading this, thank you again for probably saving our lives.

                So, that was the end of that chapter of our lives.  My group was somehow the first home, evenin time for dinner!  In the end, all 11 of us made it back safely to the House before 9PM that night, and presumably collapsed into bed soon after.

                Because we live in such a small community at International House, word had already spread about our adventures before we even got home. Pretty much everyone we ran into in the House the day after asked the same questions.

                “Were you in the Kosciusko group?”

                “Is everyone okay?”

                “Did you really hitch-hike home?”

                “How are you gonna pay for the crash?”

                Ah.  Yeah.  That last part is still being worked out.  We’re currently juggling bills and phone calls from the two rental companies we bought from, as well as the insurance company of the owners of the Mercedes we hit.  (They were surprisingly very nice and understanding of the whole thing!  But we still have to pay them a lot of money.)  Even now, we’re not quite sure what the total number we owe is going to come to in the end, but it’s all being worked out, and we will all be able to get out of this alive. 

                So, there you have it!  That was the fiasco.  I planned on including a few more little stories in this post, but I’m really tired and my fingers are cramping, so I’ll save those for a later post.  (Not too much later!)  I’m still alive and very well right now!  My time left in Australia is shortening at an alarming rate, so I’m going to make the best of the rest of my time here!  (Though I am kind of looking forward to going home again.)

                  As always, communication is super appreciated, and cash donations are accepted!