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- An experienced hiker, Andy Collins, 60, from Mt Victoria, NSW, was excited to take on a new walking route.
- As he walked down into the valley he became seriously ill.
- To save his life Andy was evacuated by helicopter.
Here Andy tells his story in his own words.
Adjusting the pack on my shoulders, I paused to take a swig of water.
‘It was February 2024, and I was two hours into my 47 kilometre, three-day hike from Kanangra Walls to Katoomba in the Blue Mountains, NSW.’It was February 2024, and I was two hours into my 47 kilometre, three-day hike from Kanangra Walls to Katoomba in the Blue Mountains, NSW.
‘Just promise you’ll take a personal locator beacon.’
I’ve always felt at ease in the bush.
I’d completed countless walks over the years, but juggling life as a parent to Toby, 28, twins Aiden and Ben, 20, Chloe, 18, and Zac, 14, and my duties as a pastor, it had been harder to find time to get outdoors.
That was until my wife Melissa, 48, suggested I tackle the ‘K2K’ hike.
‘I know you’ve always wanted to do it,’ she encouraged, knowing I’d been working hard and could use a break.
To be as prepared as possible, I studied the route online and read up on recent trail reports.
Bushfires in 2019 and recent floods have caused some rapid regrowth in the bush. Some paths are really overgrown, read one.
‘Have fun, stay safe.’
But I’d hiked in similar conditions before, so I made plans to head off the next day.
‘Just promise you’ll take a personal locator beacon,’ Melissa said.
‘Of course, love,’ I agreed, swinging by Blackheath National Parks Office to collect the GME PLB and let them know where I planned to hike.
With my 15-kilo pack stocked with water and dehydrated food, Melissa dropped me near the sandstone cliffs at Kanangra Walls around mid-afternoon on February 26.
‘Have fun, stay safe,’ Melissa called out as she drove away.
With a final wave, I set off.
While the weather was overcast, I already felt so at ease surrounded by all the trees.
Now, two hours in, I found a safe place to pitch my tent for the night.
The next day I trekked 14km towards the summit of Mount Cloudmaker.
Standing almost 1170 metres high, the view from the top was spectacular.
Next, I was faced with an 800 metre descent, before tackling the last 5km to reach Cox’s River.
This isn’t so bad, I thought, as I made my way down the ridge path. But the further I descended, the more difficult it grew.
Littered with fallen trees and thick regrowth, the track was almost impossible to pass. The vines that snagged at my ankles had me constantly tripping over, but I persevered.
As the sun set, I was still 200m above the river.
There’s no way I’ll make it there tonight, I thought, my body aching.
Too steep to pitch my tent, I lay down on the slope.
Too exhausted to eat, I mustered just enough energy to wrap myself in my sleeping bag before I fell asleep.
As dawn broke, I knew I had to make it to the river’s edge. I was low on water and couldn’t stay on the slope in the beating sun.
‘I don’t want to die out here.’
For three gruelling hours I fought my way through the overgrown path until water came into view.
As I stepped onto the riverbank, relief flooded through me.
Legs cramping, I dropped to my knees to fill up my bottle, which I filtered to make the water safe to drink, and gulped it down.
As the sun grew hotter, I realised there was no way I’d be finishing my hike.
I’d been beaten by the bush.
I’ll rest here for a bit and just walk out at the nearest point, I decided.
But then a shooting pain in my legs and back caused my body to spasm.
My stomach lurched as the water I’d downed came back up and the cramping became so painful, I couldn’t move my legs.
I don’t want to die out here, I panicked, as another jolt of pain went through my body.
Mustering all the energy I had left, I scooted myself on my bum into the river to cool down.
With no phone signal and the temperature now soaring over 40 degrees, I knew I had to act quickly.
‘If you hadn’t used the PLB, it would have been a body recovery.’
My mind went to the personal location beacon, but I hesitated.
I didn’t want to be an inconvenience but, terrified I’d die alone, I felt I had no other option.
Climbing out of the water, I retrieved the GME PLB, pressed the button and prayed emergency crews would find me before it was too late.
Lowering myself back into the water, I used my towel to shelter from the sun.
Waiting anxiously for help, I thought of my family.
When I heard the whirring of the PolAir chopper around 90 minutes later, I was relieved.
‘You’re in strife, mate,’ the pilot told me, after landing nearby.
‘I’m so grateful you’re alive.’
‘We’ve called for the air ambulance, just hold tight.’
An hour later a medical chopper hovered above, while my rescuer attached a harness to my waist, and I was winched up to the aircraft.
‘If you hadn’t used the PLB, it would have been a body recovery,’ a paramedic told me.
It really hit home just how close to death I’d been.
I’m so thankful Melissa insisted I take the PLB – she’d saved my life.
Calling her while on the chopper, I told her to meet me at Katoomba Hospital.
‘I’m so grateful you’re alive,’ she said, tearfully.
‘Me too,’ I replied.
I’d suffered severe dehydration and acute renal failure – my kidneys had stopped functioning.
Thankfully, five days later I was allowed home.
Determined to make the most of my second chance at life, in September 2024, I flew to the US to walk the 50km Tahoe Trail with Ben, Zac and Melissa.
We didn’t think twice about taking a PLB in case we ran into trouble.
I urge anyone keen for a bushwalk to always carry one with them, no matter how experienced they are.
One small button could save your life.
