Everything to Live For: The Inspirational Story of Turia Pitt

by Pitt, Turia

  In the end he decided he didn’t want to teach kids; again he was choosing time off over a career. He resigned from the Police Force and made a snap decision to join me in Kununurra, go to the mines and see what happened. I was pretty happy with that decision. So the day after he left the force he flew to Kununurra.

  By the time Michael left Sydney to join me, I had been in Kununurra for three months and I was loving the lifestyle. Kununurra is located at the eastern extremity of the Kimberley region, about 37 kilometres from the Northern Territory border. It’s quite a new town, initially established to service the Ord River Irrigation Scheme in the late 1960s, and its population is still only about 7000. Today, the locals work mainly in the mines or in various government departments.

  Rio Tinto had shipped all my things to Kununurra, including my car, but the little Mazda was not really suitable for the outback. I sold it soon after I arrived and bought a Holden Rodeo four-wheel drive to get me to and from Kununurra and the mine.

  I was finding the work stimulating; my first task at the mine was a million-dollar project to come up with a way to house the mining waste – waste rock is rock that is not ore. I really liked the people I worked with. I was in the technical services division and I was the only girl on the team but the ratio of men and women overall was pretty even. There were a lot of girls in the environmental department and also occupational health and safety (OH&S). The accommodation was flash – not new but I had my own room with kitchen and bathroom. There was also a gym and a pool.

  I couldn’t wait for Michael to get there so I could show him around and introduce him to the life too, so I was very excited as I waited for his plane to land at the tiny Kununurra Airport.

  There is only one daily regional flight from Darwin and it arrives late morning. When Michael stepped out onto the tarmac, the temperature was already about 37 degrees: talk about a warm welcome! Personally, I thrived in the hot temperatures. I ended up buying an inflatable kiddies pool to cool off in, and I would sit in it on really hot days reading National Geographic magazine. Michael would stay indoors with the air-conditioning on. But the majority of the time we would be out camping so we would normally have a nice waterhole to cool off in.

  My two housemates in Kununurra were Mary Kavanagh and Elle MacNamara. Mary worked in OH&S and Elle was in human resources. Michael moved in with us. It only took Michael about three weeks to get a job as a technician at a local mine about half an hour from Argyle. There was a bit of computer work but the job mainly involved grading different types of iron ore and working outside and he loved it.

  He was working a twelve-hour day, 5 am to 5 pm, two weeks on (living in on-site accommodation) and two weeks off in Kununurra. Sometimes Michael would drive over to spend a night with me at the Argyle mine but because he had to start work so early, he’d have to leave at 3.30 am.

  We managed to synchronise our time off together and we had so much fun. While we naturally missed the surf, there were so many other things to do. So the car would be packed and off we’d go. We went to the Bungle Bungles, El Questro, Home Valley, Halls Creek . . . we saw it all. When Michael was at work I would socialise in town with my friends, but I always missed Michael.

  Once a whole team of about ten of us went out to a place called Andy’s Chasm; we did a long slog over several hours climbing a steep cliff because I wanted to go to Andy’s via the back way. After we found the back entrance, we had to make our way down the chasm using ropes and traversing slippery sides and deep holes. I was really proud of Michael as he helped all the girls get through the chasm; I remember thinking, what a great bloke.

  On my long weekends, I’d finish work at midday on Friday and we’d take off somewhere. Michael’s attitude was much more laid-back than mine; he’d be ‘Let’s see what happens’ but I’m a very organised person so I’d be planning weeks in advance where we would go. Our lives were jam-packed with things to do.

  We were both fit and healthy and spent our time off exploring the area around the Kimberley – the scenic hills, ranges and pretty gorges with their deep green and blue waters. We’d go camping in the 350-million-year-old Bungle Bungles massif (large mountain mass) or in El Questro, a million-acre wilderness park and working cattle station. We went to Falls Creek; we’d swim and fish in waterholes and waterways and lie under wild orange sunsets. We went over to the tiny coastal town of Wyndham to visit the crocodile farm, about an hour’s drive from Kununurra, and we even flew down to Perth for a weekend to look for an investment property to buy.

  Michael’s parents, Gary and Julie, came over to Kununurra for a holiday and we took them to the El Questro Wilderness Park; we had booked them a tented cabin at the Emma Gorge Resort right on the edge of the natural bush and by a beautiful crystal clear creek. They really loved it. Michael and I thought we would be able to just roll out our swag outside the cabin but the resort was classier than that and camping under the stars wasn’t allowed! So we ended up sleeping on the single beds meant for kids in Julie and Gary’s cabin. This was the first time I really got to know Michael’s parents and I was really stoked that I got on with my future parents-in-law so well.

  I was getting involved in other activities in the town. When I arrived I’d volunteered for the local ambulance service. Because Western Australia is such a vast state, it relies on volunteer ambos in rural areas, and I started as a driver. Kununurra had three ambulances and only one full-time ambulance officer. One of the other volunteers was a girl called Bonny Rugendyke, and we became friendly after we were only ever rostered on at the same time. At the mine I also undertook Emergency Response Team (ERT) training that equips people for fire and other emergency situations.

  I met a whole bunch of new people when I joined a group called Hash House Harriers, which went walking around the district on Sundays; that was a lot of fun. They gave members stupid names and on my fifth walk I got the name ‘Deflator’ because my car had a flat tyre on my way to the starting point. I went walking with the Harriers on the Sundays when Michael was working. When he was off we’d spend the time doing something together.

  One day I got a phone call from Genji in Sydney. He had joined the Army after he left school and had been living in Darwin until just a couple of months before I moved to Kununurra. He’d left the Army and joined the Navy as a clearance diver. Genji asked me for the phone numbers of my two uncles, Dad’s brothers, in Sydney.

  ‘Yeah, why?’ I asked.

  ‘I want to borrow some cufflinks.’

  ‘What do you need cufflinks for?’

  ‘I’m getting married today.’

  ‘Oh, okay,’ I said, a bit stunned. I knew he’d met Angela, who was English, when he was in Darwin, and she’d moved to Sydney with him, but I hadn’t expected this – I think they were unofficially engaged but I hadn’t thought about a wedding. I gave him the numbers and said, ‘That’s cool, tell me more.’

  ‘Sorry, can’t Sis. Gotta go. Bye.’

  I rang Michael and said, ‘Guess what – Genji’s getting married today!’

  ‘Cool. Good on him,’ Michael replied. That was a typical easygoing comment from Michael.

  ‘Why didn’t they invite us?’ I said. I would have flown down had I known.

  ‘Don’t worry about it; that’s just Genji and that’s how he does things. Spur of the moment.’

  At first I was a little miffed. The wedding was a small affair, with only two of Genji’s mates and their girlfriends. But then I thought people should have the wedding they want and it was not up to me to decide how Genji had his wedding.

  I know Mum was a bit sad not to have been there too, but she came to the same conclusion: ‘That’s Genji.’

  Before we moved to Kununurra, Michael and I were heavily into fitness and would run and go to the gym together, and we started going on longer runs together after he came to Kununurra. I’m not sure why I loved running so much. I’ve heard people describe is at boring or that it hurts their knees and so on. Not me – I always found it exh
ilarating. I used to love running from the mine to the mine camp, back to the mine and back to the mine camp again. This was roughly 30 kilometres and the time it took would vary from three to four hours. I always knew when I had run late because the mess would be closed and I would miss dinner. The sun would normally set as I was running, which was beautiful; after that I would continue running with my headlamp on. Mostly I relaxed and listened to my music on my iPod but there were a couple of times when I was scared. Once I saw a huge python slithering across the road; it was bloody massive – it was as long as the width of the road and I couldn’t even see its head or tail! I consoled myself with the thought that pythons weren’t poisonous but I still ran home in extra fast time.

  Another time I took my headphones out because I swore I could hear dingoes. As I started running faster, my headlamp caught a couple of dingoes. After we had a stare-off, for what felt like ages but was probably only a few seconds, I took off quickly, telling myself that if dingoes did attack, they would be more likely to choose a smaller target.

  I also ran in town on the weekends but I enjoyed the runs out on the mine more – less traffic and more of a feeling of isolation. After my hard work at uni, I decided that 2011 was the year I was going to start pushing myself and start competing in events.

  I was probably more into competing anyway, especially if it involved running; I’d already done a mini-triathlon (swimming, cycling, running), in which I’d come second, and a half-marathon (21 kilometres) locally, in which I came first, when I came across a promotion for the RacingthePlanet 100-kilometre ultramarathon in the Kimberley on 2 September.

  I checked out the organisers online: it was a Hong Kong-based company which had previously organised thirty-three foot races in various challenging places around the world, such as The Gobi Desert March, and ultra-events in the Sahara and Antarctica. It had also put on a 250-kilometre staged, seven-day event in the Kimberley the year before. I sent them an email indicating my interest in competing.

  It was a couple of months before the event, and I emailed Michael and said I wanted to push myself and do it. He was not enthusiastic about the idea; he was doubtful that my fitness was up to it; I disagreed and our emails about this went back and forth.

  As it transpired, after my initial enthusiasm my interest waned because I thought the entry fee of $1500 was a bit steep. It would be better to put the money towards the holiday to Tahiti that Michael and I were planning so he could see where I was born and check out the great surf. I stopped pushing Michael about competing because I’d decided I didn’t want to do it.

  A couple of weeks later I got an email from the organisers offering me free entry into the event. I was told that the event was being filmed as part of a sponsorship arrangement between Tourism WA and RacingthePlanet to promote the Kimberley region of Western Australia. Having me compete as a ‘local’ would be good for the promotion. What I didn’t know was that according to the sponsorship agreement with Tourism WA, RacingthePlanet had to have a minimum of forty entrants.1 They may have fallen short because I later found out that several people had free entry, and some of them were not locals.

  My enthusiasm was reignited but now Michael and I were at loggerheads over it again. Then one day after he got yet another email from me arguing my case, he went out into the mine and thought about it carefully. He knows how tenacious I am and that if I wanted to do it, I’d go ahead and do it anyway. He is a peaceable person and hates arguments, so he sent me an email saying if I really wanted to do it he would support me. I was very excited. Wow.

  THREE

  THE RUN-UP

  TEN DAYS BEFORE THE RACE, MICHAEL AND I CAME BACK TO Ulladulla for a break and to attend my graduation in Sydney. We had a great time with family and friends, surfing and going for runs around the local area. The graduation was a week before the race and we drove up to Sydney with my mum. Dad and Karen were in Europe – on a sailing holiday in Greece – and not due back until the following weekend so Dad missed it, but Grandma came.

  I told them in no uncertain terms not to yell out anything when I came up on stage. Of course Mum and Michael whistled and yelled out, ‘Woo hoo! Go Turia!’ But I didn’t really mind. I smiled, I was so happy I’d finally achieved this milestone. Michael told me later he was so proud of me. He said he’d looked at me as I went up to get my degree conferred and thought, ‘She’s got everything: great job, heaps of friends, fit, healthy, beautiful and she’s about to go on this big run. She’s killing it.’

  We spent the next few days in Ulladulla. Michael planned to stay on for another couple of days as he wanted to go to a friend’s party in Sydney which was the night before the race. He was going to fly back to Darwin on Friday afternoon and down to Kununurra on Saturday morning, where I’d meet him at the airport and we’d spend the rest of the weekend celebrating me completing the race.

  Michael drove me to the bus station in Bombaderry, about an hour from Ulladulla; we were running a bit late and the bus was waiting. I leapt out of the car and tore off, giving him a quick kiss before getting on the bus and waving to him out the window. That was the last time Michael saw the old me.

  RacingthePlanet staff held a compulsory pre-race briefing with competitors the day before the race in which they went over the course, cut-off times and mandatory and optional equipment to go into our packs. We were told there were six checkpoints between the start at Emma Gorge and the finish in Kununurra. The on-road route would be marked by blue bunting, and waist-high pink bunting would mark trees or rocks to guide the off-road route; the height was to make the route visible for competitors above the long spinifex grass that grew through vast parts of the course.

  The event was to be filmed on the ground and from a helicopter by a company called Beyond Action as part of an action documentary film series. It was part of a tourism campaign for Western Australia.

  We were also told that there would be no mobile phone coverage and limited satellite phone coverage and given a simple map of the region.

  That night I was alone in the house as Mary and Elle were still out at Argyle. But I was very excited and busy getting my pack prepared. Compulsory stuff included things like a headlamp and back-up light source (in case we were still running at night), a red flashing light, compression bandages, a survival blanket – made of alfoil and also known as a space blanket – whistle, compass, blister kits, a certain amount of energy food, a long-sleeved top (for cooler temperatures in the evening), salt tablets and enough water containers to hold three litres. Anti-inflammatory tablets and treatments for mild pain relief, such as ibuprofen, aspirin and paracetamol – for head and foot aches – were also on the list. I didn’t expect to be footsore as I would be wearing my light, flexible, flat-soled joggers but I tossed in some Panadol anyway.

  Next morning the competitors met at about 6.20 am outside the local pub, where we were to catch the bus to the race start, planned for 8 am. The drive was more than 100 kilometres, to the Emma Gorge airstrip on El Questro pastoral station. The competitors were from all over Australia and about a dozen had come from overseas. Being a naturally chatty person, I became friendly with three guys on the bus who were working for Newcrest Mines, which mines gold and copper in the Pilbara in Western Australia. They told me they were staying on in Kununurra for a couple of days after the race and as they’d never been to the region before I offered to take them back out to El Questro with Michael the next day and show them around. I was rather proud to be living in such a place and happy to play host.

  I tried to ring Michael while I still had mobile coverage but the calls kept going to message bank. The race was half an hour late starting so I kept trying. I rang him again just before the race started at 8.30 am but no answer; there is a two-hour difference between Western Australia and New South Wales so it would have been close to 10.30 am in Sydney. I badly wanted to talk to him before the race and my messages were becoming increasingly cranky. I was thinking, ‘He can’t even pick up the fucking phone.’ I kne
w he’d had a big night and was probably still fast asleep but I was nevertheless cranky.

  During the briefing before the race start we were advised to take at least two litres of water, so we milled around at the starting checkpoint getting our names and race numbers checked off and filling up our water bottles. The course director, Samantha Fanshawe, drew our attention to the scenery and said it was a ‘shame about a little bit of a haze’. We had seen a few spot fires while driving to the race start and she said it was a reminder to be careful of them and to use our common sense and not go ‘running towards them’. There was no more information about fires and what we should do if we came across one but she gave us some more instructions about course markers and cut-off times.1

  The race was started by John Storey, a local farmer and a friend of RacingthePlanet founder, Mary Gadams; Mary was also competing. John had been a volunteer for the previous year’s event in the Kimberley and he and his wife, Ann-Marie, flew to Emma Gorge in their gyrocopter. Also on the airstrip was the media helicopter with the Beyond Action crew on board that we’d been told about at the previous day’s briefing.

  On the crack of the starter gun we were off. For about the first 10 kilometres I ran with the three guys I’d been talking to on the bus. But I was faster and eventually pulled away from them, going ahead on my own. After checkpoint one, the course veered off the Gibb River Road toward the Tier Ranges. It was rugged country, through long grass, trees and shrubby bush. I stopped for a rest and some water at checkpoint two which was at about the 19-kilometre mark, where other competitors were also resting and chatting, and some race officials checked off our names.