Originally written December 2021
The rule of thumb for hiking Devil’s Thumb is simple:
If you can’t see it from the Captain Cook Highway, give it a miss.
Because if Devil’s Thumb is hidden in cloud from down below, chances are there won’t be much of a view from the top either.
And wet weather also means one other thing:
Leeches. Millions of them.
So naturally, during breakfast this morning, Graeme and I were debating whether I should do the hike.
Rain was forecast.
We couldn’t see Devil’s Thumb from the highway.
Everything was telling me this probably wasn’t the ideal day.
But this hike was one of the reasons we had spent Christmas in Port Douglas in the first place. It saved Graeme around six hours of driving from Cairns to drop me off and pick me up again.
So…
off I went. 
The trail information describes the walk as difficult, taking around seven to nine hours, and some reviews describe it as mentally gruelling.
After doing it, I think I know why.
The leeches.
It practically rained leeches. 
I was pulling them off every 30 seconds.
I tried ignoring them for a while, but some of the fresher, more ambitious ones were attempting to crawl underneath my shorts.
That was where tolerance ended.
They slowed me down enormously because every few steps seemed to involve another inspection and removal operation.
By the time I reached the coral fern patch, I had already been walking for about four hours, with roughly another hour still to go before Devil’s Thumb.
But the fern patch gave me something I hadn’t had for hours:
a break from the leeches.
It was more exposed and received some sunlight, unlike the dense rainforest below.
Of course, apparently nature does not believe hikers should ever become too comfortable.
No leeches meant I now had to watch for snakes.
Most snakes I encounter usually move away once they realise I’m coming.
But there were two smaller ones curled up directly on the track that apparently had not received that particular memo.
I stomped.
I made noise.
I waited.
Nothing.
They remained exactly where they were.
I couldn’t confidently identify what they were, and they showed absolutely no interest in moving, so eventually I had to give them as much room as possible and carefully pass by.
Apparently their parents had forgotten to teach them:
When you see the human coming, MOVE.
Eventually I reached Devil’s Thumb.
And sure enough…
fog.
On a clear day, the views from up there are supposed to be magnificent.
Today, much of it was hidden behind thick cloud.
But strangely, I didn’t mind.
I’ve always had a fascination with clouds.
There is something about standing high in the mountains, out in the open, while cloud moves around you.
You can barely see beyond it.
Everything becomes quiet and enclosed.
And somehow you feel two completely opposite things at once:
free… and protected.
So perhaps I didn’t get the famous Devil’s Thumb view that day.
But I got something else.
Nine hours on the trail.
Rainforest.
Coral ferns.
Leeches determined to become permanent passengers.
A couple of stubborn snakes.
And finally, standing among the clouds.
I’d say it was still worth it.
Stories Along the Way 