Exploration
This is Terra Roam, the woman who walked 17,000km around Australia. Alone.
In May, Terra Roam became the first woman to walk around Australia solo and unsupported. But from travelling with gypsies to meeting the Dalai Lama, her whole life has been one big adventure.
We first got in touch with Terra Roam because, in May this year, she became the first woman to walk solo and unsupported 17,000 kilometres around Australia.
But it soon transpired that Terra wouldn’t be our typical interview subject. Her adventures, experience, knowledge and stories go far beyond her incredible big lap of The Lucky Country. In fact, she’s one of the most interesting people we’ve ever talked to.
Terra seems to have lived hundreds of lives in her 46 years. On top of her most recent epic walk (she’s been solo trekking around the world for some 28 years), she’s also volunteered across four continents, worked on ships off the Persian Gulf, hit the road with a theatre troupe for 18 months, taught English in Bangkok and bumped into the The Dalai Lama while trekking through Nepal. She’s also worked for the police, for maritime search and rescue, as a bouncer, as a snowshoe guide, a kayak instructor, and more besides.
Terra kindly talked to us at length about adventure, nature, and the benefits of walking. She also talked about depression, mental health, suffering from PTSD, and how these factors acted as a catalyst for her walk (her walk raised $20,000 for Lifeline, too). She talked about why her incredible feat gained so little media coverage, and about the time she was chased by feral dogs. She didn’t talk about the time a truck driver tried to kill her, because that’s a story for another time.
Anyway. We’re at a bit of a loss for ways to describe Terra. We’ve never met anyone quite like her. And so, instead of editing down her fascinating interview to a bite-sized, 1,000-1,500-word story, we’ve very nearly kept it at full length.
Ladies and gentlemen, we give you Terra Roam: Australia’s most interesting adventurer.
Terra, tell us a bit about yourself. Who are you? Where are you from? What do you do?
Terra Roam by name and nature. Born in Newcastle in 1972. As a toddler, I was a wanderer. And throughout my childhood and teens bushwalking was a big interest. Most of my spare time as a kid was spent alone in the bush, exploring, tracking, watching, learning. If I couldn't be found in my big green classroom then I was road touring on my red 10-speed racer, rebuilding and restoring bikes, sailing, horse riding, trail running, paddling or body surfing.
Terrra, originally from Newcastle, has been exploring her whole life.
© Courtesy of Terra Roam
Since the day after the final senior school exam I have been travelling, exploring the world, joining the gypsies on the harvest trail, volunteering across four continents, working on ships around the Australian coastline and Persian Gulf, travelling with a theatre troupe for 18 months through Oceania, seasonal work in the mountains while camped on the snow, and a few other gigs like the police, pub bouncer, sailing and kayak instructor, animal rescue, volunteer fire fighter, maritime search and rescue, English teaching in Bangkok and snowshoe guide.
During all of that, I took every opportunity to explore my surroundings, new cultures, trek mountains and coastlines, plunge into the wilderness and challenge my own ability to navigate, improvise and survive alone. I believe I was born an adventurer, that intrinsic sense of curiosity is stronger now than ever and with nature, a lot of what I do is intuitive.
Now, where did the idea for this expedition come from?
The last 28 years of solo treks, weeks and months at a time in solitude in the wilderness, solo explorations into the Sahara, Atlas Mountains and Himalaya were all a natural progression towards something bigger. Perhaps it started in 1984 while reading Robyn Davidson's book ‘Tracks’, about her expedition from Alice Springs to the West Coast of Australia with camels and her dog. The way she wrote about solitude, her intimate connection with nature, and self-awareness resonated with my 12-year-old spirit and I wanted to experience the same. So I did, many times over, and it became addictive.
To become the first woman to walk solo and unsupported around Australia didn't become my goal until half way around. I knew three other people had completed this adventure and two more were on their way, but I didn't see it as a male or female quest until other women began asking if that was what I was doing. I simply wanted to walk around Australia, seeing as much as possible, and going alone was the most practical way.
As I walked up the west coast a news crew said, "You must be the first woman to do this." to which I replied, "No, two others have walked around with support crews." The news crew gently pointed out "Yes, but you will be the first woman to do this alone without support vehicles. Probably the first to walk from Perth to Darwin, you should think about that."
For Terra, nature has always been a second home.
© Courtesy of Terra Roam
On the way I asked about other women – First Nations, Australian, expats, visitors, who had walked through alone without any vehicles. The Aboriginal communities I visited thought I was nuts. Why would anyone walk that far if they didn't need to!? The furthest trek by any Aboriginal women they had heard of was the escape of three girls, Molly, Daisy and Gracie, who walked 1,600 kilometres back to their mothers after being stolen and taken to a mission.
Later, I heard of Swiss explorer Sarah Marquis who walked across Australia as part of her 20,000 kilometre solo unsupported walk across the world from Siberia to the Nullarbor. However, when I reached Darwin I could confidently claim to be the first woman to walk the length and breadth of Western Australia solo unsupported, because on my southern traverse I took the scenic route via Esperance, Albany and Cape Leeuwin.
On my first trek, in Kashmir, our camp was attacked by a bear, which was very helpful because I learned how to scare them away. On my third trek, in Ladakh Province, I ran into His Holiness The Dalai Lama in Hunder Valley, which I’ll write about properly in my upcoming book.
For most people, dropping everything and walking around a continent for four years might seem impossible but for me, the time was right. I had been struggling, unknowingly, with mental illnesses, depression, post-traumatic stress disorder and social anxiety. I lost my job, and it was difficult finding another. One thing led to another and I was hospitalised after attempting to take my own life three times in 2010.
My psychologist prescribed walking as the best complimentary therapy, pointed out that I had been using walking as therapy all my life, and encouraged walking every day. On one of these little walks, I recalled an old dream to walk around Australia and decided now was the perfect time to do it. Even though I was unemployable because of my mental health, I could still do something productive with my life and I had some savings.
That’s incredible. Had you done any walks like this previously?
Walking around Australia was not the first walk of this kind but it was by far the furthest. The 670 kilometre Australian Alpine Walking Track was the furthest bushwalk but it was relatively easy compared to the crazy idea I had to test my physical and mental limits walking solo from Esperance, Western Australia, around the Great Australian Bight, in 2004/5. I managed to walk 450 kilometres before abandoning the expedition at a well that was contaminated by a poor wallaby which had fallen in and drowned. The next big trek was a success, bushwalking 600 kilometres down the southeast coast of Australia solo from Tathra New South Wales following coastal tracks, trails, beaches and roads through towns, national parks and wilderness.
In 2009 I completed my first big road walk, 1,400 kilometres solo from Melbourne to Newcastle via the Victorian and New South Wales alps, then down to the coast from Canberra.
Terra diving with sharks.
© Courtesy of Terra Roam
The next road walk had to be abandoned at 400 kilometres because of stalking, violence and death threats. I had started walking for ocean conservation, raising awareness through conversation. This particular walk was for shark conservation in one of the last remaining parts of Australia which still fished for sharks commercially. They were threatened by what I was trying to do and went on the offensive. Walking alone without support made me too vulnerable, so I flew back east. I began losing my battle with mental illnesses about this time but managed to squeeze in a few shorter road and wilderness walks for conservation and climate change.
Since then I have been 100% focused on completing this walk, so I can begin planning the next big adventure.
The most memorable adventure was in 2007. I went to Kashmir, India and Nepal trekking alone through the Himalaya. Actually, my first trek in Kashmir was guided so I could get the feel of it and our camp was attacked by a bear, which was very helpful because I learned how to scare them away. On my third trek, in Ladakh Province, I ran into His Holiness The Dalai Lama in Hunder Valley, which I’ll write about properly in my upcoming book.
In Nepal, I set out alone to Annapurna Base Camp during monsoon. I asked after a guide when I bought the permits but they sold me a map and said I'll be fine, it was a cultural holiday and the guides and porters were all with family, on pilgrimage or had work with families on pilgrimage.
On the first day I fell in with a family on pilgrimage and, after testing whether I would assimilate to their culture, they invited me to join them on their journey to the Holy Lake. I found out on the way that only one other foreigner had ever been allowed to this lake, I was the second but I was the first person allowed to take photos.
I found an ideal state of meditation while walking. It was as if time and distance suddenly meant nothing.
It was a fast and gruelling five-day climb over a 6,000-metre pass before we descended to the south-eastern side of Annapurna to a glacial lake nestled in about 4,500 metres. We slept lying against the warm yaks, buffalo and sheep in the makeshift pens at night with nomadic herding families. As we walked past each faint trail intersection we were joined by more family until there were about 40 of us spread out across the mountain trail walking in quiet contemplative meditation.
The biggest condition I had to agree to was following their instructions and respecting tradition. I did the full pilgrimage, practicing every ritual, then we all celebrated with a mini Olympic Games, a family tradition of sprinting, long jump, rock throwing and wrestling (at 4,500 metres). I won a couple, but I think they let me! After returning to the ABC path I was so full of energy I continued to ABC2 because it was too beautiful to not to continue.
Oh! and there was that year I spent trekking through Papua New Guinea and Solomon Islands, but that is another story.
Jesus. And why walking around Australia? What appealed about this trip in particular?
Walking, as I mentioned earlier is something I did a lot since childhood. I knew how to navigate, read patterns in nature, animal behaviour, changing clouds, and went on solo multi-day bushwalks in my teens. It is the most natural form of travel for humans and I have always felt a complete sense of belonging walking through the wilderness.
Most of my pursuits are solo – it’s easier to take off on an adventure alone than to wait for others to organise themselves. So long as you know what you are doing with experience, knowledge and training, your risks are entirely your own responsibility.
Our strongest memories of anything, not just adventure, are those which were experienced with all our senses. The five basic senses as well as those we are not always aware of are activated when we are outdoors and the more exciting it is, the more brain stimulation, the more embedded the memories will be. What we do, see, hear, taste and touch are enhanced by every sensation our bodies and minds pick up.
A coastal path from Terra's journey.
© Courtesy of Terra Roam
I have noticed, when talking with our elders, when some memories are starting to fade or almost completely out of reach, their memories of adventure, camping trips, sailing, a cheeky skinny dip, travelling the world are the memories which seem to last.
I use walking as one of the ways to explore the natural and cultural worlds around me. This slow travel still gets me from A to B, but on the way I see the finest of detail in a wildflower, am engulfed in the scent of brushed and bruised herbs underfoot, accompanied by curious birds and dingoes, locals and other travellers take the time to stop and chat, share stories and show me new places to see.
The meditative quality of walking benefits the whole body and mind. Thich Nhat Hanh [a Vietnamese monk and global spiritual leader] is one of my teachers, he has walked the Earth in meditation guiding us to "...walk in a way that we only print peace and serenity on the Earth. Walk as if you are kissing the Earth with your feet." I found an ideal state of meditation while walking. It was as if time and distance suddenly meant nothing. A 50 kilometre day felt like 20 kilometres, a week between water felt like a few days. Every sense was heightened and nature buoyed me along the path.
While trekking alone overseas, the local families and communities embraced me, watched out for my wellbeing and where I stopped to rest, we quickly developed an intimate understanding. Walking self-supported through Australia opened up many doors of friendship and kindness.
How do you even start plan a trip like this?
Regardless of having more than 20 years of solo trekking experience before starting, I gave myself a couple of years to get ready. Mostly it was testing my resolve and taking giant leaps outside my comfort zone to analyse what happens. Remembering I was still in therapy after trying to take my life, it was always a factor in rebuilding resilience, strength and trust.
Rather than throw myself into the outback, a lap around Tasmania was a more responsible first leg where I had friends and help was always nearby. The planning was mostly focused on Tasmania to start with, best season, beating the summer holiday crowds, avoiding inclement weather while planning out a path passing through the most beautiful places with extra bushwalks to lesser-visited locations.
Looking ahead to the entire walk I made rough itineraries and studied maps, often zooming in to follow Google Maps kilometre by kilometre through areas which could be difficult. With a draft plan I could phone and email ahead to organise food and gear parcels to be delivered along the way.
Dory, Terra's carefully designed barrow, takes a breather.
© Courtesy of Terra Roam
Designing Dory, my trekking barrow, was fun. In 2,000 kilometres of previous road walks I pulled a little converted bike trailer with harness which was a great idea at the time but it helped me find the best design and method for my personal needs. Pushing is far more energy efficient than pulling, as our large muscle groups push stronger than pull. I ditched the harness as the vibrations of the road travelled through the trailer into my body draining energy. Another important factor was moving parts – the fewer moving parts, the less things could breakdown and Dory had zero squeaks or rattles which, over the course of hundreds of kilometres, can drive you mad.
I learned the hard way not to listen to everyone's advice. I was treated like a joke, called an idiot, my extensive experience was disregarded and my dream discredited. So, in a bid to gain respect, I actively sought out advice – which was a bad move. It opened me up to more ridicule but also became confusing. I already had all the knowledge and experience I needed, but began looking at the expedition as something much bigger than it was, rather than seeing each week as a little multi-day walk where I could rest and resupply en route, I began seeing it from a 4WD perspective, where I thought I needed to carry everything all the way around. I simply broke it down and focused to the essentials only.
Can you talk me through the specifics of the trip? When did you leave? When did you return? How many kilometres? What was the route you took? How long did it take?
Tasmania was the warm up lap. 1,250 kilometres following roads, 4WD tracks, walking tracks and beaches around the coast and through the mountains. I started and finished this leg in Devonport, 10 weeks between October and December. It didn't always go to plan and I added extra detours and side trips as I went. A depression relapse forced me to stop several times and just as I was about to set off up the west coast, I came down with a flu which turned into pneumonia. I also wanted to be the first person walking around Australia to walk properly ‘around’ Tasmania, all previous walkers, if they bother to include Tassie, went across the centre.
About 250 kilometres into the Melbourne to Perth section I became very sick. Doctors found three tumours that needed surgery. Because each section had been planned around seasons, the southern traverse was postponed for a year rather than resume in the heat. During this delay, I decided to flip the walk to head west to east with a winter tailwind across the Nullarbor.
My ankle twisted and foot slipped, I crumpled, landing with my full weight with pack on the ankle, breaking it. The fibula was shattered and tibia dislocated.
Leaving Perth in March 2014, I took the scenic route down to Cape Leeuwin, across to Esperance, a side trip to Kalgoorlie then across The Nullarbor. The detour to Port Lincoln was rewarded with a shark cage dive with Calypso Star Charters off Neptune Islands. On the way back up to Port Augusta, injuries began slowing me down, the heavy boots I was using back then were straining the Sartorius muscles until I couldn't walk more than 10 kilometres before the pain became crippling. Just out of Adelaide, that section had to be called to a halt, which was good timing as the heatwaves were bringing more 40°C days than below. It was time to rest.
After summer, I returned to Perth in early March 2015 and headed up the west coast. Having worked along the Kimberley Coast previously, I wanted to avoid walking in the monsoon build up and wet season. The heat and humidity can be dangerous without a support vehicle. I reached Broome two weeks early having pushed hard and rested.
As soon as my guard was down, I went into a PTSD relapse needing those two spare weeks for recovery before setting out to Darwin. Initially, I planned to walk the Gibb River Road but the grey nomads warned it was busy, the tourist buses were speeding through it and the dust was bad. The highway turned out to be a much quieter and more enjoyable option. This section included the longest distance between water, 289 kilometres. I didn't beat the monsoon build up, which came in early August, but I did meet Mats Andrén, a Swedish adventurer walking solo self-supported pushing a converted buggy chassis from Stockholm to Sydney.
This meeting was fortuitous, as he became my mentor.
I had put Dory into storage in Darwin for the wet season. When Mats arrived in Sydney he took a break to return home and I borrowed his buggy, The Mule, for a 1,400 kilometre link leg from Canberra to Crystal Brook, South Australia, February to April 2016. This leg meandered through the Southern High Country, Riverina, Riverlands and over the Flinders Ranges. It was paused in the middle at Balranald for a 10-day heatwave of 40°C.
The epic route Terra took.
© Courtesy of Terra Roam
The Darwin to Gladstone section was in two parts. The first started too early in May, and I was hospitalised with heat stress in Katherine, just a bump in the road, and after 10 days’ rest, the average daily temperature dropped 36 to 34°C. The road surface temperature was about 80-90°C and radiant temperature hovering between 55 and 75°C. But it was getting cooler each week.
I walked fast and long days, anxious to get to the east coast but I didn't reach the coast on foot. Close to the Queensland/Northern Territory border, a truck driver attempted to kill me so I left the Barkly Highway, took a four-week rest to process and recover and changed the itinerary so the distance was still covered but not in that region. This put me a month behind schedule pushing into wet season.
I loaded Dory onto a bus and we travelled to Cairns where we resumed the walk south. There were a few delays with illness and injuries before a combination of heat and injuries forced me to stop in November, between Rockhampton and Gladstone.
It took six months to recover enough to carry a backpack 20-30 kilometres a day. As soon as I could do it without too much pain, I resumed the walk in June 2017. Switching from Dory to ultralight backpacking meant I could now walk off roads and 4WD tracks. I took every opportunity to explore national parks, state forests, coastlines and K'gari (Fraser Island).
It added a lot of distance to the walk but I loved being free to wander and discover new and beautiful places. Unfortunately, what I thought would be the final leg was abruptly put on hold for six months when Queensland Ambulance Service had to conduct a remote 4WD rescue. I was walking the Gold Coast Hinterland Great Walk, on the border of Queensland and New South Wales, when a rock cracked underfoot just as I shifted weight on to it. My ankle twisted and foot slipped, I crumpled, landing my full weight with pack on the ankle, breaking it. The fibula was shattered and tibia dislocated. It took another six months to recover and carry the pack 20 kilometres without too much pain.
Exactly six months later, in February 2018, I returned to the Gold Coast Hinterland great walk, finished it and crossed that elusive border. There were only 900 kilometres left. I spent 10 very wet but beautiful days walking through the Gold Coast and Northern Rivers hinterlands before heading down to the coast and walking the remaining distance along beaches and coastal national park trails.
It was the best part of the entire walk, and I wanted to finish on a high! Rather than walk back to Canberra or Melbourne it made more sense to include the 2009 solo unsupported walk from Melbourne to Newcastle and complete a 17,200 kilometre walk in the town I was born in. Plus, I was getting tired.
That’s absolutely unreal. Where did you sleep along the way?
Almost every night I slept in the Mont Moondance 1 tent or the Tier Gear Goshawk hammock. Most nights I free camped, usually stealth camping in the bush, boulders or high grass beside the road or track, sleeping rough in town was not so safe so if I had the funds I camped in a tourist park or booked a bunk in a YHA.
There were days when fatigue or injury caught up with me and I needed a room where I could shut the door and fully rest. In some towns I was a guest in supporters’ homes, a few times hotel rooms were donated, and occasionally I asked for help along the way.
Terra wild camped her way around Australia.
© Courtesy of Terra Roam
How did you manage to fund this trip?
Up to the first 9,000 kilometres, including preparation, the walk was self-funded. It cost much more than I anticipated! It was a fundraiser for 16,000 kilometres and it was important for me to do this without touching any charity funds, so I started a crowdfund to help with the walk expenses. I also began living more frugally, more free camping, foraging wild food and eating leftovers in cafes and bins, patching clothes and gear and just learning to do without.
In total, the four-year walk cost nearly $100,000. Around $10,000 was crowdfunded or gifted and in the third year, the Australian Geographic Society sponsored me enough to help with one month of expenses, including essentials, maps and replacing some broken gear. Along the way I sold everything I owned, including my fully restored 1972 kombi camper which I had previously called home. That was the hardest decision of the entire walk. It is a hard reality for me knowing I have achieved something most people can’t comprehend yet now I’m broke, homeless and starting all over again.
A pack of feral dogs tried attacking me but I was very lucky they were not hungry, just bored. I was surprised to see them as I rounded a long bend on the quiet highway.
The small businesses who believed in me and wanted to be part of the adventure were a massive help, they not only provided gear but were a vital source of moral support within adventure networks. The smaller the business, the more generous they were with donated gear but even a discount helped when the budget was tight.
I’m hoping to fund a two-year multi-adventure bike ride around Australia through book sales as well as sharing video, photos and stories on my Patreon page. I believe in receiving AND giving, there should always be an exchange. When people support me I share the adventure, anecdotes, insights, discoveries, joys, lessons and encounters with them. When businesses sponsor me they get a lot of brand exposure, it is surprising how many people want to know what I use, wear, eat. If a sponsor’s brand is good, durable, ethical I’ll shout it to the world.
In one story I've read, it said you were 'stalked, injured and hospitalised' – can you talk me through some of your most challenging moments from the journey?
There was drama! Not heaps, but enough for a few scary survival stories. Over the last 22,000 kilometres of solo unsupported trekking there is a good collection but thankfully the walk around Australia was relatively quiet on that front. “Relatively” is perhaps the key word. Stuff happened which was unpleasant, dangerous, criminal but then much worse happened making the other stuff insignificant.
In all my travels around the world, the survival skills I use to help others and extricate myself, faulty psychological wiring and PTSD management also gives me a different perspective on scary. I’m not naïve, it’s just that I’ve seen and experienced much worse. I have to admit, nothing more happened to me as a woman walking alone around Australia than would have happened to a man out there, and for that I am immensely grateful.
I think when you live big, pursue adventure and are willing to take calculated risks in order to fulfill your dreams, you get more awesome experiences but are also playing Russian roulette with your exposure to potential harm and mishap. I had a clear understanding of this logic when I began solo adventure in my teens.
Terra takes a breather on her 17,000 kilometre walk.
© Courtesy of Terra Roam
A pack of feral dogs tried attacking me but I was very lucky they were not hungry, just bored. I was surprised to see them as I rounded a long bend on the quiet highway. They did their usual stalking routine. I used every bit of information, advice and experience learned previously to try and stay in control of my end of the action, maintaining a steady pace, keeping eye contact with as many of them as I could, squashing fear and replacing it with a purely instinctive animal aggression.
When the pack came in behind me and began running I swung around to face them, let out all my anger, full psycho indignation, baring teeth, projecting the loudest, lowest frequency I could to match their growls and making my body look as big as possible. They hesitated and in that moment I quickly picked up rocks and began throwing them. Lucky for me, they decided that meal was too much hard work and slunk back to their rocky cairn.
Of the worst experiences during this walk, the most frightening was when a truck driver tried to kill me. There was no mistaking his intention. But if I tell you that, nobody will want to buy my book.
Sounds terrifying, but fair enough! On the flipside, what were some of your most rewarding and joyful moments from the trip?
Have you ever had those moments when nature takes your breath away, when it is so beautiful it hurts? Australia has incredible ecological diversity and beauty in abundance. Having studied conservation ecology, I like to think I understand what I’m looking at and listening to, but it is also full of mystery and old stories. The landscape changed every day, throughout the day. Flora and fauna of one region merged into those of the next, the birds who kept me company changed as I passed through their territory, and even the calls of the same species changed between regions.
We have a lot to learn from the First Nations about this land we also call home, about survival and resilience. They are the original adventurers, explorers, storytellers. They called me Deadly Sista. I call them my teachers.
The dingo is my totem animal and I enjoyed spotting them following me at a safe curious distance. At night I would lie back and listen to them calling each other – of course I joined in and they replied. In the morning as I climbed out of the tent I would see dingo tracks in my camp, even the little prints of dingo pups. I considered it a mark of approval when they left a scat perched on a tuft of spinifex. When they were not there I missed them, as they briefly became my travelling companions for short distances through the outback.
The beauty and majesty of nature surrounded me every day. Since I was a small child I was learning how to more fully appreciate nature and all she has to offer. This walk took me through the most amazing parts of Australia and on so many occasions I was awestruck, unable to move while tears streamed down my face witnessing nature at her finest.
Did you learn anything about Australia that you didn't know before?
The people who live out there in Australia’s harshest environments are tough as nails but even they have their breaking points. Other things I learned include:
People with less give more.
Outback highways are very quiet.
Wildflowers bloom all year around, not just wildflower season.
Cyclones happen when you least expect them, right up to the very end of the season.
Terra reaches the finish line in Newcastle.
© Courtesy of Terra Roam
The best time to walk through an outback fire is at night when the cold air dampens the heat, but don’t camp on recently burnt ground as buried logs and tuber-like roots are still smouldering and will melt your rubber soles, tyres and tent.
Becoming part of the landscape and learning stories gave me a deep appreciation of First Nations’ spiritual and scientific understanding and connection to country, our solar system, ancestors, creation and so much more I have difficulty putting into words.
White Australia is still in denial of our impact on the First Nations. We still celebrate the explorers and pioneers who opened up the country through violence, exploitation and massacres. Many white Australians tried warning me of the people who would cause me trouble. Those people were the communities who welcomed me with open arms, big beautiful smiles and warm hearts. We have a lot to learn from the First Nations about this land we also call home, about survival and resilience. They are the original adventurers, explorers, storytellers. They called me Deadly Sista. I call them my teachers.
In a broader sense, what did this whole experience teach you?
The mind is a powerful tool. It can tell us we can’t or it can tap into reserves of strength and stamina we were previously unaware of. When we think we have reached our limit, we still have more in the tank. However, it is important to know when you have switched to the reserve tank so you know when to stop, rest and recover before driving yourself into the ground.
It’s a balancing game between pursuit and self-care. Self-care is necessary when undertaking any adventure requiring all your physical, mental, emotional, spiritual, material and psychological resources. I learned the self-care part the hard way after pushing myself into pain blackouts.
Many people are shackled by fear. It was one of the most common questions “Aren’t you scared?”. Here, in Australia, we have one of the safest societies and natural environments in the world. It will disappoint people when I fail to overdramatise the walk. I was not targeted because I was a woman. I zipped up my tent or the mesh fly of my hammock and slept free of wildlife harassment and used my common sense, training and gut instinct to prevent and manage risk.
A boab tree in the outback.
© Courtesy of Terra Roam
We are bombarded by fear mongering on TV and commercial radio and tabloid publications. We pass this fear to others like an infection through the language we use. As adventurers, we are partly responsible for this. I have travelled and trekked solo through some of the places where adventure documentaries have been made and was shocked by how far out of proportion the adventurer and producer would blow security issues, ritual or rough terrain. In plain speak, it is irresponsible to create fear and misrepresent a place and culture in which you were a guest. I challenged the people who asked me about fear with a question about living their own dreams, the most common response was: “I want to but I’m scared.” It sounds cliché but the only thing we should fear is the regret of letting our fears stop us from achieving our dreams.
Another valuable lesson I learned early in the walk was to plan in a lot of flexibility and expect change. Without a support team or vehicle, I found it nearly impossible to stay on the schedules I had set. Some days I walked further, other days I slowed down, injuries, illness, destination motivation, accepting invitations to stay on a few more days, side trips and detours to see new places meant the itineraries were binned and I taught myself to go with the flow, follow my intuition and treat the walk around Australia as though it may never happen again, seizing each moment and opportunity.
I only found your story by chance. I read that you said the first 12,000 kilometres of your trip went barely noticed by the media – why do you think that is? Why haven't we heard more about this? About you?
[Laughs] Beats me! Around the 12,000 kilometre mark people began to realise I really was doing it, it was possible, and they began to believe in me. There was a spike in interest around 14,000 kilometres when the Australian Geographic Society sponsored me, I was finally recognised as a legitimate adventurer. And I milked it!
After the first three years of planning and walking I stopped asking for sponsorship or support, I even quit trying to capture media interest. The response rate to hundreds of emails, phone calls and messages asking for help was about 2% and most of that was not supportive. Rejection was possibly the hardest part of the walk; it broke me on many occasions.
I am empowering women to shake off their fear and insecurities, to explore, adventure, rewild and reconnect with nature – to pass on healthy, strong, confident attitudes to the next generations of women who will also achieve great things.
A small handful of businesses and individuals believed I could walk around Australia alone but the big influencers continued to ignore me. Most of the local newspapers and radio stations in small towns liked the story but it was difficult in large towns, cities, state and national media. It wasn’t until the last day and after finishing that a few mainstream news platforms shared the story. Believe me, it wasn’t from lack of trying, the mainstream media simply didn’t believe in me and/or weren’t interested in a woman walking alone around Australia.
Although, I often remind myself that a feat of this proportion is unimaginable to and incomprehensible to most people, even other adventurers. Perhaps the lack of interest was just lack of relatability. There is also the out of sight out of mind factor. I can make up many excuses for the lack of sponsorship and media support but it comes down to who decides what is newsworthy. In the end, I’m grateful my achievement was acknowledged.
Aside from the physical feat, was there anything else you were hoping to raise awareness for or achieve with this trip?
I hope I have been able to encourage people to spend more time in nature, walking, running, riding, paddling, skiing, snowshoeing, anything, just getting out there for a regular dose of nature therapy – to appreciate her beauty, respect and protect her for future generations to enjoy as we can today.
I hope this achievement inspires many people to live their dreams and know they can do anything they set their mind to. I am empowering women to shake off their fear and insecurities, to explore, adventure, rewild and reconnect with nature – to pass on healthy, strong, confident attitudes to the next generations of women who will also achieve great things.
Nothern Territory/Western Australia border.
© Courtesy of Terra Roam
As a vegan endurance adventurer I am part of a rapidly growing community of plant-based athletes. I am not the first vegan to walk solo unsupported around Australia, Mike Pauly did that at age 75 and Janette and Alan Murray-Wakelin ran around in their 60s. But I am adding my example to hundreds of other plant-based athletes around the world demonstrating vegan strength and stamina.
Some 16,000 kilometres of this walk was for suicide prevention awareness. I set out to walk for my own health and recovery after trying to take my own life three times, and I am now healthier than I ever remember feeling.
I hoped the awareness side of the walk might save a life and through thousands of roadside conversations, local news interviews and public speaking, my story has helped saved many. I get a bit choked up when people write or phone to tell me I saved their life. Actually, they saved their life, I was simply a direction marker on their path. I also raised over $20,000 for Lifeline’s crisis hotline.
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Keep an eye out for Terra’s first collection of adventure stories in early 2019. Terra will be heading off on a two-year multi-adventure bike ride around Australia. You can support the book and the bike ride on this Patreon page, and you can follow Terra’s upcoming pursuits on Facebook, Instagram and her website.
If you need to talk to someone, call:
Lifeline on 13 11 14
Beyond Blue on 1300 22 46 36
