We're off at last.
After a few frantic last days of packing, buying things we know we'll need, think we may need, possibly may need, we get to the point of "Stuff it, if we haven't got it, we're going anyway.
We met our travelling mates for the trip - Pete and Marg, Lennie and Tanya, at 6am at the Forest Way/ Mona Vale Rd intersection on Sun 28 April, and after a quick radio check hit the road, first stop Bathurst for coffee. The country west of the Blueys is looking truly beautiful - green rolling hills slip by as we head NW from Bathurst to Wellington for lunch in the town park, Dubbo and then Nyngan, on the Bogan River, for our first night's stop.
Then on through Bourke next morning for coffee at Grubby Mick's Cafe - good coffee and some great local art works. A number of the local indigenous population hanging about doing nothing. Sad.
After our caffeine cravings had been satisfied, we headed off again NW towards our intended next camp at Cunnamulla, stopping next to the surprisingly green footy ground at Enngonia for lunch.
Arriving in Cunnamulla around 4, we checked out the camping area on the Warrego Rvr, which was nice but crowded, and opted to drive 16km out of town to Bowra Station, once a working cattle station and now a birdlife sanctuary and camping area. After a dusty drive we finally arrived to find basic but very functional and enjoyable surroundings. We were allowed to find our own unpowered sites on the edge of the shallow billabong on the property which attracted lots of birdlife. We had a very enjoyable evening watching the birds, the sun go down and the moon come up shortly after. We even had green tree frogs sharing the rustic toilets with us!
Leaving Cunnamulla next morning about 08:30 we stopped at a little place called Wyandra for coffee. The Post Office/General Store/ Cafe served tea, plunger coffee and devonshire teas, and they also ran a caravan/camping area complete with a fabulous old barn converted into a movie theatre showing old movies for the camp area clientel every night. They weren't allowed to sell beer, but for a small "donation" in a box you could pull one out of the fridge. Great set up - we would have loved to spend more time there, but time was a wastin', and we continued north towards Charleville for lunch, then Blackall for our next overnight stop.
The caravan park in Blackall provided us with some entertainment in the form of a local old horseman (drover?) who clip clopped up on his beautiful black horse Lacey and entranced us all with some whip cracking and horsemanship displays, putting some of the kids up on Lacey's back for a thrill. after dinner we all wandered down the main drag to one of the town's pubs and downed a couple of schooners of Fourex bitter each. Well, the guys did anyway. Very nice.
Next morning we were off again, headed for Longreach - home of the Stockman's Hall of Fame, and the QANTAS Founder's Museum. But first we made a coffee stop in Barcaldine, home of the first stirrings of the Labor movement and Unionism. We had our coffee at the famous local bakery, and bought some of their sensational sourdough bread, straight out of the oven, then wandered down the main street past the town's 5 pubs, all supported by a town population of not much more than a thousand, to the memorial where the "Tree of Knowledge" once stood. This memorial is really quite something, comprising around 5,000 hanging hardwood beams of different lengths which swing against each other in the breeze and make a kind of organ music. It's huge - you can stand underneath it and watch the beams swing.
And so to Longreach. We did the QANTAS Founders Museum first, which tells the early history of the founding, and subsequent struggles and growth of the infant airline. Susie and I climbed all over the 747-200 and then QANTAS's first 707. I love the story of how it was brought back to life in the south of England before being flown back to Oz. Then to the Stockmans Hall of Fame, learning about the early history of the outback and it's heroes and unsung heroes. I also finally found an Akubra to fit my funny shaped head. Young Tammy, in Irvine's Western Men's Outfitters laughed every time I put the wrong one on, until finally - the right one, and she said "Yes, that's the one!" I'm becoming very fond of it.
And now a little on glitches:
First problem was Lennie's radio. His transmissions weren't being heard by Pete or me unless he was in our pockets. He also developed an ignition problem (ie wouldn't start!), but both were eventually fixed by a very helpful auto electrician in Longreach. I had a cursory look under the bonnet on our second or third morning out and realised there was no battery clamp. I think the guys at ARB must have moved the battery when doing work on the car, and forgotten to re-clamp it. So I picked up a one-size-fits-all in Nyngan, which will hopefully do the job until we pick up a genuine one the Toyota dealer has waiting for me in Alice. Only other problem was an engine light coming on intermittently in Pete's car. That turned out to be just an electrical problem and got fixed by the Toyota dealer in Longreach while we toured the local attractions.
We left Longreach on April 3rd, after coffee at the Merino Bakery, and headed for Winton - dinosaur central in Oz, on the way seeing plenty of emus, brolgas, and the odd Curlew.
Some impressions of the country we've been travelling throughout the last few days - Channel Country, that is:
Giant road trains, usually three, sometimes four trailers, some more than 50 metres long. Heaps of road kill - mostly 'roos, mostly killed at night by road trains is my guess. Heaps of black kites and crows feeding on the roadkill. Wide flat plains, surprisingly green in places, split by "Jump Ups" - rocky mesa type outcrops rising abruptly out of the plains. Beautiful Country. Tons of bird life. Very friendly, chatty people.
Winton…
After getting squared away in one of the local 'van parks, we went for a wander around town before thirst quenching ale in the North Gregory Hotel, site of the very first rendition of "Waltzing Matilda" by Banjo Patterson. Story goes he wrote it for a local camp cook, who accompanied him on the piano on the night, in the hotel dining room. Next, back to the park for a swim, dinner, and then to Tattersals Hotel to watch the Broncos-Souths game over a beer. Susie endeared herself to the locals by barracking for Souths.
Next day we went dinosaur hunting. First up, a 110km drive south to Lark's Quarry, scene of the famous "Dinosaur Stampede". Paleontologists have figured out from a huge array of dinosaur prints that a large bunch of small dinosaurs were drinking on the edge of a large inland sea when they were attacked by a large carniverous dinosaur causing a stampede. The hundreds of fossilised footprints are very impressive. From there we travelled back to winton, and then out of town another 24km (distances mean nothing out here!) to The Age of the Dinosaur - a fossil museum which is well worth the visit, with young palaeontologists taking us through their painstaking process of fossil identification in the laboratory.
Next day, on the road again to Boulia, capital of the Channel Country. A great drive through mesa (jumpup) country which reminded us a bit of the mesa country in Arizona. Stopped at Middleton (Pop 5) Pub for a cool drink, then on to lunch at a picnic table on top of a steep rocky knoll called Cawnpore Lookout. Those little black bastard flies nearly carried us away, but the views were sensational! Camped that night beside the Burke River - nice and grassy, with thousands of birds - mostly galahs, but lots of other parrots as well.
Boulia was the end of the bitumen. We headed out of town pretty much due west on the Donohue/Plenty Hwy with Alice springs in our sights - 2 days drive away. But some fun and games were in store for us. After visiting Bob's Store, which sold everything from car parts, including tyres, to fruit and veggies and women's makeup, we dropped the pressure in the tyres and headed off. There were corrugations and bulldust, but nothing outlandishly bad, and we made good steady progress until we stopped for lunch and Lennie found his Anderson Plug had pulled out of the female bit on the car and had been ground off on the road. Still connected to the trailer batteries, the bare wires were live, so Len had to disconnect the trailer batteries, leaving him with no fridge power. We used the satphone to call Jervois Station, 200kms ahead, but they couldn't help so we called Tobermorey Station about 20kms behind us, who said they probably could. So we turned around and back we went. Turned out that the boys in the Station workshop couldn't help, but another traveller who had just pulled in to the camping area there had the required bits, so Lennie was able to get his electrics functioning again. By this time it was mid afternoon, and the station had a lovely green grass oasis of a camping area, so we decided to stay the night. We had a game of Boule on the grass in the evening, and then were serenaded by Lennie's saviour on his sax for about an hour. Pretty good, too.
In the morning, when we were set to leave, Len discovered he had a small fuel leak which the station boys were able to help him with, and we were soon on our way, aiming for Gemtree, about 120 clicks from Alice. A couple of hours out came the first flat tyre - left rear on the Prado. Out came the jack and I got down and dirty in the dust. Mobile again, we made another hour and bloody hell, another flat - left rear again. This time I had to use the spare from the trailer, and the newly punctured tyre had a 2 inch rip in the wall. A write off. We drove on to Jervois Station, where we were lucky enough to find the owner at the homestead. We found the first tyre had an inch long cut in the tread. The owner patched it for me, but didn't think it would last long, so we got the old, back up tyre off the roof which we put on the rim, and put the patched one on the roof. Thankfully we hit the bitumen only another 30 kays or so further on, and finally made it to Gemtree around 6:30, pretty buggared.
We had also had our first experience with an opposite direction road train on the dirt. These guys drag their own personal dust storm along with them. Only thing to do is pull way over and stop before they get to you, then wait till you can see again, and continue. Quite an experience.
130 odd kms next day and we pulled into a caravan park in Alice. Susie and I went in search of the Toyota dealer for the battery clamp, and then a tyre joint. You would think, wouldn't you, that if you order the 3 separate and different bits (2 different length J-bolts and the bracket itself) of a battery clamp, it would come with nuts? "Ah, no mate, that's not the way Toyota do things. You have to order the nuts separately." Great. "Have you got any?" "No mate, you'll have to go to Alice Screws and Bolts." Hmmmm. So, armed with directions, off we went.
When we got to the tyre guy he listened to my story and said, "Mate, you're the third bloke come in this morning's had trouble with Coopers. Mate, they're okay down the southern states, but not worth a nob of goat shit up here." "Okay, so what do the locals use?" "Most use Bridgestones, mate." He checked the tyre the Cocky had patched for me and declared it a write off, which I had figured was the case. He seemed pretty genuine, so I bit the bullet and bought 3 new Bridgestone Dueller T/As, ditching the old tyre from the roof, which was now showing cracks in the wall. This was getting expensive. (I've since made a point of checking the tyres on local NT and WA registered 4WDs, and sure enough, most are clad with Bridgestones or BFGoodrich.)
We also visited an aboriginal art dealer just to see what things cost - very expensive going through a white middle man. I wondered how much the artists got for their works.
Susie and I then grabbed a late pie and coffee lunch at a nice bakery and watched the local indigenous population wander aimlessly around the Coles carpark. Aimless unless, of course, they were headed for the grog shop, which a good many were frequenting and then going to sit in the nearby park to consume their purchases. Sad.
Next day, the 9th May, we headed up the Stuart Hwy on the blacktop. Our original plan had been to go via the Tanami Rd through the Tanami Desert to Halls Creek, but we had heard from a couple in the caravan park that it was "the worst drive of their lives", and a check on the net said it was in it's worst condition in 10 years. Other people we've met subsequently who used it said, no, it was fine, so we've since decided to take any road condition advice with a good dose of scepticism, and just go anyway. Stopped at Barrow Creek, the site of the infamous Falconio murder, and checked out the old Overland Telegraph Station, before continuing to the Devils Marbles for a walk around and a few pics. Pete and I grovelled underneath a hopelessly equipped bloke's Winnebago trying to get his underslung spare out for a while, and then we rolled on to Tennant Creek for the night. And waddayaknow, in the middle of nowhere, 70 kms out of Tennant, a cop flagged us down for a breath test!
North again on the Stuart to a little place called Dunmarra, where we turned left onto the Buchanan Hwy for a great run on a fabulously smooth gravel road to Top Springs - a pub, fuel, and a camping area out the back, at the intersection with the Butane Hwy which runs north south. Imagine my surprise when I pulled up at the pump, got out and walked around the car to see the left trailer tyre deflating as I watched. Couldn't have happened more than 500 metres from where I pulled up! So out with the jack, and down in the dust again. Pissed off is an understatement. Over a couple of calming ales at the bar a bit later, Pauline the publican gave us the good oil on the western section of the Buchanan. She said, "Let me put it this way. The good eastern section, which you drove yesterday, is graded by white contractors, and the bit from here to Halls Creek is contracted to the indigenous fellas. I'll say no more. My advise - go north on the bitumen Butane.
In the morning I got out the tyre repair kit and with Pete and Lennie helping, plugged the damaged tyre successfully. At least it held air, anyway! None of us had repaired a tyre before, so it was good experience, at least.
So north on the blacktop again next day to hit the Savannah Way and turn left for WA and Kununurra. The quarantine officer at the WA border gave us all a thorough going over and an hour later we finally rolled into the lovely Ivanhoe Village Caravan Park in Kununurra. We had arrived in The Kimberley!
Book 2: Onto the Gibb River Road
Our first day in Kununurra was a Sunday, so first priority was to find a good coffee, which we achieved fairly quickly at the very good Kimberley Cafe. Great coffee and lots of interesting history around the walls. That afternoon we booked ourselves into a sunset cruise on Lake Argyle. Long time mate Eric had told me before we left Sydney, "Make sure you do the sunset cruise!" And he was so right! It was brilliant. Starting at 2:30, we first were given a history lesson about the building of the dam wall - quite a feat back in 1969, taking 3 dry seasons to complete. The facts about the place are staggering - the lake when full holds 40 Sydney Harbours, is 70 kms north south, and 40 ams east west, and in the 2011 wet, an absolute belter, when the lake was full and the major spillway (Spillway Creek) came into operation there was enough water going down it to fill Sydney Harbour in 5 hours. Five hours! We were shown photographs, and I believe it! The cruise itself was sensational, and the icing on the cake was floating on a noodle in the 27 degree glassy water way out on the lake, drinking a beer as the fiery red ball sunk below the Carr-Boyd ranges. Thanks Eric.
Monday, Susie and I went shopping for another Bridgestone tyre, and to get the plug job checked out. It passed, but he put a patch on the inside just for good measure. Then in the arvo, five of us, minus Susie who had done it before, jumped on a Cessna 207 for a flight south over Lake Argyle to the Bungle Bungles and back, doing a circuit over the Argyle Diamond Mine for good measure. Susie amused herself during our airborne time by checking out the Sandalwood factory, the Rum Distillery, and the Zebra Rock Factory.
Tuesday, 14/5, the Gibb River Road awaited. Grey Nomad rite of passage? Maybe, but I'd been told for years how bloody good it was, and couldn't wait to see for myself. Susie and I got away early, and headed for Emma Gorge - owned by El Questro, but on the opposite side of the GRR. Pete, Marg, Lenny and Tanya had opted to go straight to EQ so we were on our own. It was about an hour's walk up the track from the resort to the top of the gorge and the falls. We could tell when we were close because we could whooping and hollering going on, and thought, "Ah, shit, we have to share it with a bloody tour!" But as we walked up, they were all coming out of the water and getting dressed. They bugged out quite quickly, leaving the place to us and another couple. The pool below the falls is large and deep and surrounded on three sides by 60 metre overhanging cliffs. There were heaps of individual water drops falling from all over the overhanging cliffs, and I swam on my back watching the silver drops come down towards me, occasionally having to move my head as one zeroed in on my eyes. We sat on a rock island in the middle of the pool and chatted to the other couple for a while, then they too dressed and left. Susie and I had this beautiful place all to ourselves on a perfect sunny day. What a start to the GRR. Back at the resort we indulged in a very nice coffee while sitting on a comfy lounge on the veranda before heading off to El Questro and our mates. After setting up camp and having lunch, Susie and I went exploring. We went on a little 4WD expedition across a long, rocky and bumpy river crossing to Explosion Gorge, had a short walk to check it out, then went back and up a steep track to Branco's Lookout which afforded a great view over the Pentecost River and the $2500 per night Homestead Suite which is cantilevered out over a riverside cliff. We were happy we'd gone for the $20 per night camping!
Next morning Susie and I headed off on our own to Zebedee Springs - warm thermal pools surrounded by lots of palms and pandanus. Absolutely beautiful, but filled with people from an APT tour. Once again we got lucky, and they left shortly after, leaving the place to us. After lazing around in the warm, clear water for a bit, we roused ourselves and made for El Questro Gorge, with a fairly long and bumpy water crossing on the way. It's about 2 and 1/2 hours to the top pool, so we opted for the shorter 1 hour walk to the halfway swimming hole. A beautiful gorge, with beautiful glades of palms, and all around evidence of how high the water gets during the wet. Scary.
In the arvo we hooked up with the others and we all did a river cruise up the Chamberlain Gorge. At the turn around point we stepped ashore for a while and were served bubbles and fresh sliced melon as we chatted with our hosts and the other punters. Back at dark for dinner on the barbie. A good day.
Home Valley Station, or HV8 as they brand their cattle, is only 50 kays down the GRR from EQ, and that's where we headed in the morning. After coffee at EQ, it was a stunning drive with rocky ramparts of the Cockburn Range always looking over us. HV8 is a beautiful place, with a really nice but expensive camping area, an attractive indoor/outdoor restaurant - Dusty's Bar and Grill, and a very inviting pool. Susie and I once again set out on our own for a walk to local viewpoint, Mt Baldy, and then to the rim of Bindoola Gorge. All to ourselves, and soooo quiet. We were really getting a sense of how vast and ancient this country and this area in particular is. The rock in most of the ranges in the Kimberley is 1.8 Billion years old. Yep, billion years. Mind bogglingy old.
Back to HV8 in time for a refreshing dip in the pool, then it was drinks and dinner at Dusty's. Very nice, too, and entertained by black fella Kev on the guitar. He couldn't sing, but groaned out songs that everyone knew the words to, so we all got right into it. Good fun.
Next morning we split from Pete and Lenny. We wanted to go to Mitchell Falls, and they had decided not to, so we went our separate ways. Susie and I turned up the Kalumburu Rd and immediately hit pretty bad corrugations which continued in varying degrees all the way. We arrived at Drysdale River Station around midday, decided it was too early to stay, fuelled up, and batted on towards the Mitchell Plateau. It had rained up here, and there was lots of slippery mud and water crossings, but we eventually got to the turn off to the plateau. About 5 kays in we got to the King Edward Rvr which was flowing fairly fast and was quite wide, but the bottom was solid, and it wasn't as deep as it first looked and we made it across without a problem, finally arriving at King Edward River Camping Area in time to set up camp and have a dip in the beautiful swimming hole. Volunteer rangers John and wife Chris came around for a chat as we were getting dinner organised, and suggested it would be best to drive up to the falls and back the next day, leaving the trailer set up where it was, as the camping was restricted and not as good up at the falls.
We took their advice, set off about 7am for the 80 kay drive to the falls, and were glad we did! They had had 3 hrs of solid rain up at the falls the night before and the road was alternately okay, muddy or full of red water. Sometimes the water filled bits were up to a kilometre long, but after a couple of hours we arrived. We chatted to the chopper people and booked to be picked up at the falls at 1pm - that gave us a bit over 3 hrs to walk to the falls via Little and Big Mertens Falls and have a good look before being picked up for a couple of passes over the front of Mitchell Falls before being dropped back at the carpark. The track comes out at the falls on the downstream right side of the river, and normally would cross to the other side above the falls for a better view of the 3 tiers, but there was so much water going down that the rangers had closed the crossing. Never mind.... we rock clambered down the right side until we were directly over the third tier, looking back at the first two - and what a sight! It wasn't exactly wet season flood, but there was a lot of water going over and it was very spectacular. The view of the falls from the chopper (with no doors for better photos) was awesome and we got some great pics.
Driving back, I was eyeing off some developing storm clouds and was keen to get back to camp, but Susie wanted to stop a few kays short and walk into some aboriginal rock art we had been told about by the rangers. So Susie prevailed and we parked and went looking. by the time we got back to camp the heavens were beginning to open. We just had time to get the annex roof up before we got smashed. I ended up standing in my boardies in the bucketing rain putting the annex walls on, then we cooked dinner.
What a thunderstorm! For 3 solid hours the lightning flashed, the thunder banged and crashed, and the rain poured down. We stayed totally dry in the tent part of the trailer (our bedroom!), but were sloshing in inch deep water under the annex as the water ran through our kitchen. It was a good test of the camper, and it came through really well.
It rained well into the night, but dawned fine and sunny. John the ranger came around and said the river was up a bit and he wouldn't advise crossing, but a young guy, Duncan, who was there with his wife and two kids, went and walked it and said he thought it would be okay - would we like to team up for a crossing so we can help each other out if someone gets into trouble? Ranger John said he would come along as well, so in the end we had a company of 4 vehicles, 2 with trailers, and John in the lead. We all got across without incident, said our goodbyes to John and Chris, and were on our way. After lunch at Drysdales we continued along the bone rattling Kalumburu Rd to the GRR, turned right and headed for Mt Barnett Roadhouse. From the roadhouse it was 7 kays down a very slippery track (it had rained there, too) to the Manning Gorge campground - and who did we pull in beside? Pete and Lennie! They were about to have their second night there, had been enjoying the river swim site near camp, and were leaving in the morning, but at least we got a chance to catch up over a drink that night.
It rained again during the night, but dawned fine. We farewelled the others again before setting off for the gorge. After crossing the swimming hole in a little tinny, it was an hour's walk to the gorge, the falls, and the glorious pool below. We alternately sat in the sun and gazed, ate, swam out to the falls, and climbed up on the rocks to get a shower under the edge of the falls. This is still one of our favourites of many gorges and swimming holes. We also managed to find some rock art we had been told about, before heading back to camp and dinner. That night it rained again.
More fun and games were to come.
