Meredith’s Bronze 3-Day Bibbulmun Helena Valley Hike

Goal: To challenge myself physically and mentally by completing a 3-day, 2-night hike while building resilience, teamwork, and outdoor skills. I aim to stay positive, support my group, and develop confidence in navigating and camping in the natural environment

Location: Helena Valley Australia

Observations: From the 15th to the 17th of July, I took part in a 3-day, 2-night hike that pushed me out of my comfort zone — mentally, physically, and emotionally.

It was one of those experiences that you can prepare for as much as you want, but still get surprised by in the best (and worst) ways possible. I’d spent days leading up to the hike testing my gear, planning my meals, and watching videos on how to pitch a tent — thinking I was ready for anything.

But nothing quite compares to actually being out there, walking through mud, setting up camp in the rain, and sleeping under the stars with only the sound of nature around you. At first, packing went surprisingly smoothly. I felt confident I had everything sorted. But as I started trying to stuff everything into my bag, the real challenge began — a game of Tetris I was clearly losing.

Before the hike, I had done some prep: I practiced cooking noodles on my stove (successfully, thankfully) and watched more YouTube videos than I can count to figure out how to pitch a tent.

But even with all that prep, I learned a big lesson about packing smart. I had unknowingly loaded up on what hikers call “fluffy gear” — non-essentials that take up space but serve little purpose. I brought two bottles of deodorant (I didn’t use a single drop), Vaseline (also untouched), and even a gel for sunburn… which never saw the light of day.It all added up and ate into precious space I could’ve used more wisely.

On the brighter side, I think I nailed my food choices. I brought two packs of instant noodles, two packs of pre-cooked salmon, two sausage sticks, a huge bar of chocolate (an actual lifesaver), a tube of candy, and four breakfast drink powders. I had just enough — by the end of the hike, all I had left was one packet of Milo.

Our first day involved a 12km hike, and like everyone says, the first day really is the hardest. At first, I felt great — it was like a peaceful nature walk. But very quickly, that peaceful stroll turned into a test of endurance.

The uphills were endless, and I felt like I was in a marathon I didn’t sign up for. That’s when I found my rhythm. As I climbed, I started murmuring “1, 2, 3, 4” with each step, turning it into a steady loop. It sounds silly, but it kept me going — gave me a strange kind of momentum that pushed me through. It worked. I wasn’t as exhausted as I thought I’d be. I also learnt something new — the term “Waugal”, a yellow snake-like symbol used to mark the Bibbulmun Track and guide hikers along the path. It was comforting knowing that even when I felt lost in the bush, there was always something there to point me in the right direction.

When we got to camp, things went pretty smoothly. I set up my tent, cooked dinner, built a campfire with friends, and we all sat around chatting. But the moment the sun went down, the real horror began: flies. Everywhere. The campsite was pitch black by 7pm, and the flies wouldn’t leave us alone. I was terrified that I’d end up sleeping in a tent full of them. One did manage to sneak in — but thanks to some quick (and lucky) thinking, I managed to get it out. That night, sleeping was tough. I barely got two hours of rest at a time. It started raining, and I was super anxious that water would seep into my tent — it didn’t, thankfully. But I also made the rookie mistake of leaving my hiking shoes just outside the tent under the flap.

All night I worried they’d be soaked or full of bugs in the morning. Turns out the flap worked — dry and bug-free. Thank god. I woke up sore —really sore — and stretching inside the cramped tent was almost impossible. To make it worse, it was raining while we were packing up, which made everything feel heavier and just that little bit harder.

Day 2 was supposed to be the toughest, with an 18km hike ahead of us. But surprisingly, it didn’t feel as bad. I stuck with the same momentum trick from the day before — counting with each step — and it worked like magic. I powered through most hills. Our instructor, Didier, even commented on how fast my friend Isabella and I were moving. Yay!

The hardest part? The last 30 minutes. Everyone kept saying the campsite was “just around the corner” — spoiler alert: it wasn’t. It felt like another dozen hills away. I was so close to giving up. But I knew if I stopped now, I would never make it. So I pushed on… and I made it.

Helena Valley campsite was stunning. The view was breathtaking and the stars — mesmerising. It was like looking into a different galaxy. And the best part? We didn’t have to sleep in tents — we got to sleep in the hut! It was freezing, sure, but not having to worry about bugs flying into my face was worth it.

Day 3 was the easiest, even though it was still 12km. The soreness was still there, but manageable. My friend and I spent most of the hike chatting with our instructor Miriam, who turned out to be super kind and interesting. We also ran into several other hikers during our breaks — all of them full of cool stories and encouragement. It felt like we were part of something bigger than just our little group.

By around 1:30 PM, we reached the Mundaring Weir Hotel. I ordered fish and chips, and honestly, it was the best. After everything we’d been through, that one meal was heaven.

This hike was more than just a physical challenge — it was a life experience. It taught me resilience, problem-solving, and the importance of preparation. But most importantly, it reminded me how beautiful and grounding nature can be. In a world where our faces are constantly buried in screens, this hike gave me a rare chance to unplug. No phones. No distractions. Just trees, stars, wind, and my own two feet. There were highs and lows, from rain-soaked tents to firelit chats, but that’s what made it real. And honestly? I wouldn’t trade a single moment of it. Because at the end of the day, it’s not the comfort that makes something memorable — it’s the challenge.

And this journey reminded me that I’m capable of more than I think, as long as I keep moving forward… one step at a time.