A Day on the Kokoda Track: A Tale of Lunch and Love

The morning sun filtered through the eucalyptus trees, casting dappled light across the gravel path at the entrance to the 1000 Steps Kokoda Track Memorial Walk in the Dandenong Ranges. Emma and Liam stood by their car, the air crisp with the scent of damp earth and native flora. Emma adjusted her backpack, the weight of their day’s supplies settling comfortably against her shoulders. Liam, ever the optimist, was already bouncing on his toes, his hiking boots crunching against the ground.

“Ready for this?” he asked, grinning. His eyes sparkled with the kind of enthusiasm that made Emma fall for him years ago, back when they were just two uni students sharing a flat and dreams of adventure.

“Born ready,” she replied, though her stomach gave a little flip. The 1000 Steps was no small feat—a steep, winding trail that paid homage to the soldiers who fought on the Kokoda Track in Papua New Guinea during World War II. It was as much a physical challenge as it was a nod to history, and today, it was their chosen escape from the hum of city life in Melbourne.

Emma reached into the backseat and pulled out their stainless steel lunch box. It was a practical thing and sturdy, with a satisfying heft that promised to keep their food safe through the trek. She’d packed it that morning with care: Boiled potatoes with different spices - cumin powder, garlic powder, turmeric, paprika, coriander powder and some salt. With Rosemary and Coriander leaves on the top of it. And a couple of apples from the farmer’s market. 

“You sure that thing’s not too heavy?” Liam teased, eyeing the lunch box as she clipped it shut and slid it into her bag.

“It’s fine,” Emma said, patting it. “Besides, we’re not eating instant noodles on this hike. I’m not a savage.”

Liam laughed, slinging his own pack over his shoulder. “Fair enough. Let’s go conquer those steps.”

The trail began gently, a shaded path lined with towering mountain ash and fern gullies that seemed to hum with life. The couple fell into an easy rhythm, their footsteps syncing with the chirps of lyrebirds hidden in the undergrowth. The Kokoda Track Memorial Walk was more than just a hike; it was a living tribute. Small plaques dotted the trail, each one etched with stories of courage and sacrifice from the soldiers who’d faced unimaginable hardship in 1942. Emma and Liam paused at one, reading about a young private who’d carried his wounded mate through the jungle.

“Hard to imagine,” Liam said softly, his usual exuberance tempered by the weight of the words.

Emma nodded, her fingers brushing the plaque. “Makes our little hike feel… small, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah. But I reckon they’d be glad people still come here, keeping the memory alive.”

They pressed on, the path growing steeper. The infamous steps began in earnest, uneven stone risers that tested their calves and lungs. Emma felt the burn in her thighs, but there was something satisfying about it, the way her body rose to the challenge. Liam, predictably, tried to make it a game, counting the steps aloud until he lost track somewhere around 200 and gave up with a dramatic huff.

“Cheater,” Emma called, overtaking him on a particularly steep section.

“You’re just jealous of my technique!” he shot back, though his grin betrayed his struggle.

Halfway up, they stopped at a small clearing to catch their breath. The air was cooler here, the canopy dense with green. Emma leaned against a tree, sipping from her water bottle, while Liam sprawled on a flat rock, pretending to be more winded than he was.

“Hungry yet?” she asked, eyeing the sweat beading on his forehead.

“Starving,” he admitted. “Whatcha got in that fancy box of yours?”

Emma unzipped her pack and pulled out the stainless steel lunch box. It was still cool to the touch, despite the warmth of the day. She unlatched it, revealing their carefully packed meal. The spiced up boiled potatoes. Liam’s eyes lit up.

“Alright, you win,” he said, reaching for a Fork. “This is way better than my usual squashed protein bar.”

They ate in companionable silence, the rustle of leaves and distant birdcalls their only soundtrack. The lunch box sat between them, unassuming but reliable, its Leaf proof lid keeping everything neatly in place. Emma liked that about it—no fuss, just function. It wasn’t the kind of thing you’d brag about, but it did its job, and that was enough.

“Remember our first hike?” Liam said between bites, his mouth half-full. “That disaster in the Grampians?”

Emma groaned, covering her face. “Don’t remind me. We forgot food, got lost, and ended up eating vending machine chips at the visitor center.”

“Yeah, but we laughed the whole way back,” he said, nudging her knee with his. “And look at us now. Proper adventurers with proper food.”

She smiled, leaning into him. “We’ve upgraded, haven’t we?”

The rest of the climb was tougher, the steps relentless as they neared the top. The trail twisted through denser forest, the air thick with the scent of moss and earth. Emma’s legs ached, but Liam’s occasional quips—“Only 999 more to go!”—kept her going. At one point, they passed a family with two kids, the younger one whining about the climb while the older sprinted ahead, fearless. Emma caught Liam’s eye, and they shared a look that said, One day, maybe.

When they finally reached the summit, the view was worth every step. The Dandenong Ranges stretched out before them, a rolling sea of green under a sky so blue it hurt to look at. A small lookout platform offered a place to rest, and they dropped their packs, collapsing onto a bench.

Emma leaned her head on his shoulder, the apple in her hand crisp and sweet. “Yeah. This is pretty good.”

They lingered at the top, reluctant to leave. The memorial at the summit—a simple stone with a bronze plaque—reminded them again of the trail’s deeper meaning. They read the inscription together, standing close, and Emma felt a lump in her throat. It wasn’t just the climb or the view; it was the sense of connection, to each other, to the land, to the past.

The descent was easier, gravity doing most of the work. Their legs were jelly by the time they reached the car park, but their spirits were high. As they drove back toward Melbourne, the city’s skyline rising in the distance, Liam turned to her.

“So, same time next weekend?” he asked, half-joking.

Emma laughed. “Maybe something flatter. But yeah, I’m in.”

That night, as Emma washed the lunch box in their tiny apartment kitchen, she thought about the day. The steps, the stories, the quiet moments with Liam—it all felt like a gift. The lunch box, gleaming under the tap, was a small part of it, but it had done its job: kept their meal safe, let them focus on the trail and each other. She dried it and set it on the counter, already thinking about where they’d take it next.

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At FOOD TIE, we believe in gear that supports your adventures, no matter how big or small. Our stainless steel lunch box is designed to be a reliable companion, keeping your meals fresh and secure whether you’re tackling the 1000 Steps or just heading to the office. Emma and Liam’s story is just one of many, and we’d love to hear about your own journeys with our lunch box. Share your photos and tales on social media with #AdventurePacked, and let’s inspire each other to keep exploring.