Part 1
The outback has always held a fascination for me. As a child I watched movies such as ‘We of the Never, Never’ and ‘The Overlanders” dreaming of the wilderness of red dessert sand, Mulga scrub and gibber plains.
I have now travelled quite a few kilometres over this harsh but wonderful landscape and this trip in 2019 is another adventure with a focus on Lake Eyre, the Birdsville Track and Cape York.
Our companions for this trip were novices to the outback laws of travel; lowering tyre pressures, locking out dust and leaving only your footprints. We on the other hand had never travelled with a ‘real’ caravan before, usually only a home-made camper trailer. This camper trailer served us well in the previous years, but time for an upgrade was required.
We travelled quickly the first few days from our home in Bairnsdale to Mildura. Crossing the Murray River, we diverted at Wentworth, to see the major rivers of our country converge; the Murray and Darling. From here we went to follow the track out to Rufus River on Lake Victoria, but were thwarted in our attempt as previous rain had made our road impassable. An alternative to Renmark was sought.
The backroad to Renmark was in reasonable condition, with only a few splashes of water and mud making for a fun ride. The poor van was now christened with its first red mud. A great deal more was to follow later in our trek. Only a slight sighting of Lake Victoria was seen in the distance before we found ourselves surrounded by grapevines and in South Australia.
Renmark was our next stop to restock on fruit and veggies. Quarantine measures at the border, insured all new stock was required.
Following the Murray River to Morgan we then detoured from the main Sturt Highway towards Burra. A moonscape now captured our imagination as we left behind the irrigated citrus and vines. Low saltbush and sandy red dirt were our scene for the next while until the Clare Valley Hills came into view.
Bypassing Burra, time was now running short in the day. A place to camp next on the itinerary. Terowie an old railway town was now in sight and it was here we pulled up to camp.
The history on these long-forgotten towns is something to behold and treasure. All our fellow travellers enjoyed the eerie peace this once bustling place produced. The old railway station; the different gauge train tracks used to suit the once thriving wool and grain industries surrounding this town. Even General MacArthur had his moment of fame during WW2, declaring “I shall return” on the railway platform.
Nothing much happens these days in Terowie besides a fuel station and general store. The main street is very quiet except for the passing tourist and the odd chook walking by!
Following a cool night and morning we were off again up the track, this time to stop at the revitalised Peterborough. I say revitalised, as a few years back the community got together and obtained a government grant to help tidy their shopfronts and facias. With the transformation the town underwent, it now looks like someone actually wants to live here. The once dreary falling down streetscape gone. The community also went the one step further, providing a service to all RV (Recreation vehicles), with dump point, water and internet facilities.
Trains again were a big factor in this town’s history. With five different entrances to town and a major shunting yard, it was one of the busiest railway stations in Australia. Over 10,000 people once called this place home; now the population is down to about 1,500.
Now the thing about caravanning 2019 style is that most of the vans are self-contained; showers and toilet almost the norm. With this modernisation also comes the dreaded emptying of the toilet. This duty is mostly relegated to the men, under complaint of course.
As it happened our fellow male traveller is a very animated and talkative man. The usual complaining about the toilet was made as he started to unscrew the outlet cap. Placing the cap upon the lip of the dump-point he continued to release the content of the toilet cassette into the cement pit. Meanwhile my husband had already flushed and returned his toilet cassette to its rightful place and was beginning to fill his water tanks. With water hose rolled out, the lady traveller tripped over the hose, almost losing her footing. On this noise, our male traveller turned suddenly and knocked the cap off the lip and into the dump pit. The issue now was how to retrieve it? The antics that followed should have been on ‘funniest home videos’. It was too deep in the pit to retrieve by arm alone. And let’s face it who really wanted to put their arm in there anyway? Husband then finds two tent poles and slowly manoeuvres them together, like chopsticks inching the cap up. Several attempts later, and finally an arm goes in halfway, the cap is out. They say a picture tells a thousand words, thank goodness I have a camera in my phone to prove this feat!
After all this high drama it was time to ‘chill’ out with a coffee and cake. As fortuitous as it may seem, such a shop was just over the road from where we were.
The old Capital Picture theatre had a new identity as a café. On entering the old building, we were met with the staircase and signs pointing inwards. The further we proceeded, the further we were amazed at the transformation the old picture theatre had undergone.
Gone were the theatre seats, replaced by sofas and easy chairs. Small tables and chairs inhabited the interior of the place with old memorabilia scouting the outside. Even down to the Blue’s Brothers statue on either side of the stage, with an American Jeep in the corner.
The coffee was good but the nostalgia even more appealing.
The day was slipping past and it was onwards toward our next destination – Wilpena Pound.
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| Capitol Theatre - Peterborough |
This was the true beginning of our outback adventure. Leaving cities behind, we now turned right into the magnificent Flinders Ranges; this ancient landscape is one of nature’s wonders.
Pulling into Wilpena we made our way over to the information centre, before gaining our bearings on the walk into Wilpena and the old Hill’s Homestead. Walking shoes on, bottles of water carried and we were on our way. Much complaining from our male traveller came “What do we need to do this for? Isn’t there a bus? I don’t like this walking caper” and so it went on. To be honest we were under the impression it was only a 5 kms round-trip, but it turned into 8kms.
Walking up the track we were surrounded by various gum trees, following the stream. The going was easy although it was a slight incline all the way. A few other walking tracks came off our route pointing to many other highlights of the park. Meeting a few other walkers coming back, banter amongst the group became commonplace. Finally, into view came the old homestead. Interpretive signs explained the history of Wilpena Pound, the European settlement, farming trials and harsh conditions faced by the early pioneers.
After a short but very steep trek up the rock staircase we reached the platform where we could survey the pound in its entirety. The panorama is amazing from here.
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| Panorama of Wilkpena Pound |
On trekking back down the track, we happened upon a couple sitting on a log. We asked what they were waiting for, thinking they were just resting, when they said they were “waiting for the bus”. Bus? What bus? Our male traveller was very interested as he was still complaining about the walking, even though secretly he had enjoyed the pound and its history. “How much is the bus?” he enquired. “$3.00 round trip, but you need a ticket” was the response.
“Where do you get a ticket?” male traveller asked.
“Back at the station!”
“Damn! I guess we will have to walk back after all” male traveller said in a dejected way. A further hundred meters along and male traveller says “those lazy sods. They could have walked back. Fancy taking a bus!”
By the time we had returned to the cars and vans, it was time to head out to our camp. So we thought! Being a National Park, we were supposed to book into the camp sites. Trying the internet, we found the sites confusing and not helpful in any way. We resorted to going back into the information centre to try and gain a site through the main office. Unfortunately, like one of my good friends I don’t like standing in line too long. Impatient, yes! Especially when the couple at the front of the que has been there over half an hour and line is getting larger by the minute. Many people walked out in frustration, including us. But not until we got a glimmer of information to help in our assessment of where to camp. The rain we had encountered a few days beforehand had also swept its way through the ranges and all gravel roads in the park were off limits. Blinman up the road about 50kms was to be our stop for the night.
Twilight was now encroaching on us, as we hightailed it up the bitumen, trying to enjoy the picturesque scenery on the way but also trying to avoid the numerous kangaroos. I was on the lookout shouting “there’s one (kangaroo). There’s a heap (Kangaroos)” all the way. As it turns out, unbeknown to us, one kangaroo wanted to make a house call with the travellers behind us, colliding with their headlights and ‘bull-bar’. Eventually making it into town we parked behind the hotel and examined the damage to the car. Not too serious, but enough to be annoying.
We had had enough of walking and kangaroos for the day, going across to the hotel for pizza tea. Hot showers and nice amenities were a pleasant change from the drama of the day.
In the morning we scoured the old ruins of a copper mine which had operated in Blinman until 1920.
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| Copper Vein - Blinman |
Leaving Leigh Creek, we thought we would now start to encounter some outback roads, notorious for gravel, dust and corrugations. To our delight (and some would say sadness) much of this road is now sealed as far north as Marree. Transportation to some very remote places is now accessible by two wheel-drive vehicles.
Before Marree though, we found (again) the wonderful old ruin township of Farina. One sign said it all “Far-In-A” (Far In Australia), which I believe sums up the place. It is a place off the main road in the middle of nowhere. Initially a pastoral lease, before becoming a railway siding on the Old Ghan it now hosts thousands of tourists to this oasis, due to an innovative group called the ‘Friends of Farina’. This volunteer group set up in 2009 to help renovate some buildings such as the Underground Bakery plus others. They also open the bakery over the winter months to provide the tourists with freshly cooked treats like pies, pastries and the necessary bread. It was like a magnet for any passers to drop in, look around the old ruins, before devouring the obligatory coffee and cake.
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| Farina Campsite - looking down from War Memorial Hill |
We pulled up camp and before long checked out the old cemetery which was full of old pioneers and cameleers. The cameleers were all facing Mecca due to their Islamic faith. At the camp, a War Memorial on top of the hill has been established. This is where war personnel from the area have been distinguished for their duties to our country. Other places of interest was the old ‘donkey’, where you need to stoke your fire drum, heating the water before a shower is undertaken. Novel but efficient.
Only staying one night, it was back on the road to Marree, where a stop ensued. This was to check the old train engines in-situ where they will be housed for their eternity, at the old Marree Station.
On then to our camp for the night – Muloorina Station 54kms out from Marree. Leaving the bitumen behind, we now made our way on the gravel. The road, recently graded, was still easy going until we reached the final 2.5kms and found the dreaded corrugations.
The billabong of Muloorina was now in site with its glistening artesian water beckoning. The trees around the billabong are full of birdlife with fish abundant (small) inhabiting this extremely warm water. You can swim in the water as the outlet to the billabong is quite a way upstream and has plenty of time to cool for you to enjoy swimming if wanted. 56C is the temperature at the head of the water as it comes out the pipe.
Now I said in the beginning that our mission was to see water in Lake Eyre North. Another 46kms up an extremely awful corrugated road is the viewing point for such an occasion. After talking to other campers, we find that the is NO water can be seen on the lake from this vantage point. NO WATER!!!! What is all the media talking about the lake being full? Very disappointing. Time to re-evaluate our trip. What now?
As I sit here now, the decision is looming about which way to go. The Birdsville Track is supposedly still closed to vehicles over 3 tonne. Other options are to continue on the Oodnadatta Track through Alice Springs and on the Plenty Highway. The second option is to backtrack to the Strzelecki and go via Innamincka. Each way has its merits but I think a toss of the coin is the next call. Stay tuned.
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| Camp - Muloorina Station |
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| Muloorina Station billabong at sunset |
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