Part 6

Big Sky Country 

Sitting at Cooper’s Creek on the Birdsville Track, the grey dust swirling around us, makes for very trying conditions. This will be my last post for the trip with South Australia calling for a seven-day lockdown. Therefore, we are heading homeward bound, if allowed. We have met up with the other fellow travellers we initially planned to go away with, but as you may remember Covid also became an issue for us a back in May. It never seems to end this endless cycle of lockdowns. I do pity the poor business people. Politicians still get paid, but what about small business? Enough of the groaning, we still have had a marvellous holiday. When last I wrote we were to stay with our son and family in Cairns, which we did for ten days. Due to work commitments our son had to work, but we were able to meet his partner and son, sharing many happy and fond moments with them. We did a few day trips around Cairns not previously seen before by us.

Shipwreck at Yarrabah

A trip out to east Trinity Beach and Yarrabah was a highlight. Yarrabah is an aboriginal community at the end of the road south-east of Cairns. The scenery was spectacular as we climbed the mountain range before plummeting again to the beach below. A few shipwrecks from days gone-by harboured in the foreshore. People from this community, although isolated from the general population, didn’t appeared perturbed by a couple of foreigners driving around. After seeing as much of this neck of the woods as we could, back to the mountain range and homeward bound. I’m sure if you travelled this road often your brakes wouldn’t last very long!

As per all beaches in Cairns, they have a large tidal mud-flat area with some white sand at some places. East Trinity was such a place. We didn’t investigate any further than a passing car window will provide, as once again crocodiles, sharks and stingers pass through these waters… all the time! One weekend we were taken by our son, to Ellis Beach. A pleasant beach where people were swimming. (Crazy or what? There was a net and lifeguards on duty, so maybe it was sort of okay?) We met our son and partner at the Botanical Gardens earlier and wandered the never-ending paths throughout the grounds, even showing the locals a new section not seen before. The conservatory. With orchids galore and other delicate species, it was photo opportunity every which-way you turned.

Jade Tree - Botanic Garden, Cairns

Once we discovered as much flora as we could, it was onto Ellis Beach, where lunch was eaten under the cool shade sails in perfect sunny weather. Time was beginning to pass and there was one more ‘hot spot’ on the list to see. A ‘secret’ waterfall at the back of Edmonton (whoops, let that one out of the bag. I guess not so secret anymore.) Walking down a bush path, through the vines and trees lining the path, within a short time we come across a waterfall. Small in width, but the length made up for the diminutive breadth. As far as the eye could see, the falls extended. These days I tend not to attempt climbing too much as my balance ‘aint what it used to be’. But under coercion (by son) I clamber up and up to get a better vantage point of the falls. He was correct, it is more spectacular the further up you go, but was it worth it for me? The answer was obvious two days later, when I could hardly move my left leg. I, unbeknown to me, injured my quadricep as I could hardly walk. Up and down the steps in the van agony for a full week after. All good now though, but no more waterfalls!

The 'secret' waterfall

Our ten days were up and everyone was returning to their normal routine; son to work, partner to work and little tacker, to school. It was also our turn to leave and continue the journey down the track. We had now made contact with the other party and were soon to join them. Leaving Cairns, I had one more item to complete before leaving the FNQ – catch up with my brother. As he lives in Townsville and they were in a Covid area, I asked if he would like to come and meet us in Innisfail? It is quite a drive for him and luckily, he was on a day off from work. After meeting for lunch and a brief, but wonderful catchup it was onward up the Great Dividing Range and heading south. We made our way down the Kennedy Highway and the beautiful scenic Hann Highway, before arriving in Hughenden. One fortuitous time as we were driving the Hann Highway, we came upon a Telstra outpost. “Stop, stop here” I say to my husband. “We have full reception” (out in the middle of absolutely nowhere!) I am due to take a phone call from The Alfred Haematology Department at 1:40pm on this day. We are not going to make it another one hundred kilometres into a major town before this, so this is our only opportunity. We had lunch and a drink, before the phone call came. All good! And I thank my Guardian Angel for looking out for me one more time! Finally, we arrive in Hughenden where a quick fuel up and check the museum are a must. More dinosaurs!

Dinosaur - Hughenden

Onto Winton (again) to catch up with the others. This time a discussion was made about the best way to get home. Birdsville seemed the ideal place as only one border pass was required, without quarantining (as in NSW). Once again out towards Boulia. Yes, more moon rocks as we encouraged the others to find their fossil too. It was exciting to see others as enthusiastic as I was in finding these relics of a past time. The traffic to Boulia this time was continual, as we learned the Boulia Camel Races were on the coming weekend. The road is bitumen, but very narrow. When passing or overtaking it is best to get off the road completely and stop, hoping the other driver will stay on the ‘black stuff’ and not throw stones at our windscreen. Some drivers don’t understand this outback rule, and plough on through. We now have a picturesque windscreen with three little stars in it! Washing and a few essentials in Birdsville, out to Big Red as we had never been there before and onto the Birdsville Track. We were to stay at the Mungerannie Pub (halfway down) but have been informed SA has just called a seven-day Lockdown. Now where do we go? Pub will close at 6:00pm tonight and we are not to stay there. So here we sit on the dusty Cooper and wait. The only benefit of where we are is the wonderous sky at night. Stars, planets and the moon extend one-hundred and eighty degrees around us.

Old Ruins on Birdsville Track

We still live in the ‘lucky country’ – Covid is just a nasty little blight in our life - hopefully. Postscript: We made it down the Birdsville track, mostly unscathed. A wire on one of the vans came adrift, one fridge door made an exit, microwave did a bit of a shuffle, but all tyres still intact. On entering semi-civilisation Marree, we fuelled up, grabbed some lunch and headed to Farina. One of my all-time favourite places to stay. On entering the camp-ground we noticed it was empty! This place is never empty, what was going on? Husband became very paranoid about it being shut to tourists, but the camp gate was still open. We stayed. When the farmer came to do some maintenance on the toilets next day, we asked him if it was ok to stay. He said it didn’t worry him. We ended up staying for three nights and enjoying ourselves with walks, photography and yes… more collection of rocks! We have now made our way south slightly as water and food were becoming short. Stocking up at Leigh Creek, we have now made our way to the historic township of Beltana. Well off the main road and tucked away in amongst the ruins. Once again, the wind is very uncomfortable, but the forecast looks like it might improve tomorrow, when we shall investigate the township. Only 35 people live here and the community has provided a wonderful set of amenities. Due to Covid Lockdown it was ‘highly recommended’ by the local Covid Officer to stay here till Tuesday. I can think of worse things to do.

Big Red. Start of Simpons Desert.

Even Found a Redback in the dust

Part 5 

The World of Many Colours

The endless colours in our natural world never cease to amaze me. 

From the ochre colours in the mesas; the different varieties of birds, especially the parrots; the trees and the various barks. I even spotted a ‘Painted Gum’ at the Botanical Gardens in Cairns. It may not be a native but it would have to be the most colourful eucalypt I have ever seen. 

The sky is forever changing with clouds providing an interesting aspect on an hourly basis; the brilliant sunsets with all the colour variations: scarlet, orange, yellow, mauve. And the hue of the water, especially when we visited Boodjamulla NP (Lawn Hill) – aquamarine.

Painted Gum

When I signed off last time, our mission was to see the above NP. It took a few hours to arrive at the park, travelling on gravel much of the way from our camp ground. We found many, many others doing the same as us, or coming from the park. Encountering horses on the way provided an interesting sideline. 

Once at the park, finding a car park was not an easy task. The Ranger Station was unavailable due to the Covid issues. So, to navigate the place we picked up a self-guide and followed the signposts. Unfortunately, since the heavy rain last wet season, some of the trails had been damaged, with the bridge to the Botanical Area destroyed. 

We made our way along the river, lined with palms, ferns and paperbark trees, before heading into the stony country. Massive walls of sedimentary stone to the west of us creating a cover from prevailing winds. After some climbing and rambling around rocks, we came to a vantage point overlooking the river below. Kayakers were making their approach to the next way-stop, before having to retrieve their kayak, taking it to the next level. I must admit, I was envious of them. The aquamarine of the water, the prehistoric cycads and the iron covered wall of the cavern would have been sensory overload. 

Hubby made his way down to the bottom while I remained on the top. The steep climb down and up, not to my liking: me or my lungs!

I did climb to the lookout before it was time to head back for lunch. We met some lovely ladies from Portland who we had spoken to earlier. They were trying to get back to the carpark. To help them in their dilemma we suggested they turn around and take the other track. Heading another seven kilometres into the gorge was not on their agenda! 

Boodjamulla NP

After six kilometres of many ascents and declines we finally returned to whence we started. 

As I said previously, this place was always on my bucket list. As much as it is a stunning place, the lack of access to certain parts was a disappointment. You would require a kayak, if you wish to see the best of it and spend a few days here. Would I do it again? Probably not, as there are too many other wonderous places to see first. 

From Gregory Downs we headed further north to Burketown on a bitumen road. This sleepy little hollow was very clean, neat and a paradise for fishing. That’s if you were brave enough to put your boat in. We were now in serious crocodile and shark country. 

Buying lunch at the little store there, we then travelled to the artesian bore on the outskirts of town. 

This bore was established at the beginning of European settlement. The water was not suitable for man or domestic beast, but remained a running source of fluid for the native birds and animals. 

Artesian Bore - Burketown

The colour of the mound that has arisen from the years of function, indicates the minerals present in the water. The flow certainly provided a powerful wetland for Shelducks, kangaroos and pelicans. (This is what we could see anyway).

The sealed road continued out of Burketown until we reached Leichhardt Falls on the Leichhardt River, before once again turning to gravel.  

Leichhardt Falls was our camp for the next two nights. A massive river in the wet season no doubt, but a dry fall and only billabongs now housing any water. This place was a haven for birds: The chattering Apostle Birds, wandering Kites and screeching Sulphur Crested Cockatoos. We even had a visit from a little rock wallaby. 

It was also a place of freshwater crocodiles and sharks! The water looked peaceful, but on closer inspection the barramundi found no love in this pond, with the shark devouring him as we watched on. The Cane Toad found no love here either, drowning in one of the many holes filled with water on the ledge. 

After our short stay it was on to Normanton. Once again, the washing was piling up, with supplies and fuel getting low. 

We were in Normanton a few years back, so our intention was to move on without doing too many tourist attractions. Except we found the Mutton-Hole Wetlands! A spectacular body of water housing hundreds of birds. Black and white Magpie Geese the major species. Brolgas, Apostle birds, Pelicans and Egrets the other complimentary genus. 

Liechhardt River - downstream

We also discovered the Burke and Will final camp before reaching the coast. There is very little to see these days, besides the information boards about their ill-fated journey. A few scar trees further towards their billabong, and many plaques indicating where more scar trees from other fellow explorers once stood. The ravages of time continue. Fire and floods don’t help, with nature taking back our European history. It is indicated that by 2061 all trace of the camp and trees will be eliminated. 

We ate our first meal away from camp at the notorious Purple Pub, Normanton. Pizzas all round was the order of the day! I must admit it was nice not to have to cook in such a hot climate - 30C.

The next morning on the road we came across the Cairns to Karamba Bike Riders. A group for cyclists each year ride this route for charity. One of the fellows this year was from our bike riding group, which crossed Australia with us, in 2016. 

Cairns to Karaumba bike riders

We stopped on the side of the road and spoke with a group already stationary, having their sustenance and drinks. After enquiring about our friend, we were told “he’s in the fast group. They are racing the Gulflander train from Croydon to Normanton”. 

Within a few minutes of talking with this group, the racing faction hurtle past our station. I had enough time to snap a photo, but that’s all. 

I have heard this group broke the record by seventeen minutes before racing the train into Normanton. Well done too all! Average speed 38.5kms.

We have now followed the Savannah Way across Queensland from Burketown, through the gold towns of Croydon and Georgetown finally arriving at Cairns, where we have caught up with our son and his family. 

One stop we made in Georgetown was to the Mineral Museum. An extraordinary exhibition of gems, minerals found locally and around the world. 

Agate in museum at Georgetown

Once again, the colours of the natural world are astonishing.                 

                  

Part 4

The Eagle Has Landed

The clouds gathered and the rain fell. At least last night it did, putting our plans for the day on hold. Here we sit at Gregory Downs, a small settlement in the Gulf Country of Queensland. 

I chose the above title for two reasons:

Boodjmulla NP (Lawn Hill) has been on my bucket list for many years after watching a documentary on the natural wonders of the area. The last time I traversed this area was two years ago when travelling to Cape York.

At the time my health was dealing me a nasty hand. Between blood tests at Mt Isa and doctors calling me from Bairnsdale, I was thwarted in going to this remote slice of Australia. 

Well, I still have the health issues, but they appear under control for now. Plus, I have the blessing from my doctor to ‘go and enjoy myself while I can’.

So, the eagle (being us) has landed in this area, ready to tick off another of my list. The rain last night dampened more than our enthusiasm; also, the track. Watching the campers and cars come into the park this morning, things look exceedingly dirty. We’re not in a hurry and it gives us a chance to catch up on this blog, along with allowing the gravel roads to dry up. 

On the road to Gregory Down

The second reason: the amount of dead Wedge-Tailed Eagles lying beside the road between Winton and Mt Isa is one of regret. Twenty eagles we observed, deceased beside the roadside. This is a stretch of road of only six hundred kilometres. Such a tragedy these resplendent birds of prey, become prey themselves to us! Trucks, cars and other vehicular devices.

Being my favourite bird of any species (although I do have a special place for my Willy Wagtail), I was shocked and disgusted in the way these birds lay lifeless on the roads. 

Yes, we have seen a few live birds, and we do slow down to accommodate their slow take-off. I just wish a few others did the same. 

Okay, enough of my lecture, on with our story…

Leaving Winton, we had one more stop in the hunt for dinosaurs. The Age of Dinosaurs was to complete the three big attractions for these prehistoric monsters. 

Again, the site which was chosen for this display was spectacular. Set on top of a mesa (or jump up), the road wound its way around the mountain side with scenic views taking advantage of every corner. On top, the panorama one-hundred and eighty degree of the surrounding Winton area. 

I had tried to book online for this tour and although I had paid my money, the wrong date was locked in. Me or technology – whose to say? 

Anyway, we pleaded our case to the wonderful attendants at reception and were able to tag-a-long with the group at 12:45pm. The only issue was, we had to take our own vehicle down to the pavilion and park in the centre of the turnaround for the shuttle bus. From there we were to show the bus driver our tickets and follow the group.

Age of Dinosaurs - Winton

Well, we made our way down the road with about five minutes before time. Wandering our way, we passed a shuttle bus returning. Thinking nothing of this we continued on our way, until a very officious park attendant strode out to us. “What are you doing here? I had a phone call from the bus, saying someone was coming down the road. No-one is supposed to come down here”.

After explaining we had tickets and were told to be here at 12:45pm by the lady at reception, he settled down and told us to park where we were. It seems, we were supposed to meet the shuttle at 12:45pm and follow them down. Communication – got to love it!

This section of the park was recently opened and houses more dinosaur prints. The story of how they came to be here was exceptional. Three volunteer ladies transported them from the original site at Snake Creek. With strategic placing of the individual clay-based prints it all came together. 

These prints were of larger dinosaurs and were of a casual nature, unlike the ones of the stampede. In this section were also crocodile prints and lung-fish. All housed for prosperity under the roof of an airconditioned building for generations to ogle over. Just like us!

Outside the building there is a new dark observatory being built, opening in September this year they hope. This will also have a telescope and is world renowned as a ‘dark area’ (meaning: no artificial light affecting the night sky). 

The Canyon was next, with the displays attached to the boulders and rocks in various shapes and forms. Making the best of the environment, each one had a stencil to trace and an explanation of each prehistoric creature.

Displays in the canyon

After the obligatory photos and reading about each display it was back to the car and continue our journey. 

Coming back through Winton (it was now 2:30pm) hubby thought he could ‘handle’ a pie. Alas, nothing and I mean nothing in Winton was open, beside the pub, whose meals were off until tea time. Oh well, onwards to toward Boulia. Pies will have to wait another day. (He is still waiting!)

The Kennedy Development road would have to be one of the most picturesque roads in this country. Striking mesas rise from the red dirt. The colours of these mountains outstanding. All the colours of ochre; orange, red, grey, cream, black. You could say the ‘rainbow serpent’ painted this land in magical times. 

After you drive through these mesas, the country becomes flat and contrasting landscape to where we came. Then another set of mesas, then flat channel country all the way into Boulia. 

Kennedy Development Road - Mesas

But before Boulia, I was on another mission. A mission to find ‘moon rocks’! 

I first saw these at the museum in Boulia two years ago. The lady at the museum said I either pay ten dollars for one, or seek my one on the K.D.R. as they were constructing a road and many were being upturned in the excavations. 

I didn’t pay the ten dollars, but vowed to come back one day and look for these fascinating sedimentary rocks. Besides the shape of the rock, when opened there is a fossil of various types: wood, shell, animal in the middle.

About seventy kilometres from Boulia, I asked Paul to stop the car as I thought I recognised the shape of the rock. Once again, the fossicking skills came into play and yes, we found moon rocks. Big ones, small ones and ones that were just right! Three intact (mostly) rocks are being transported in the back of the car to Cairns, where we endeavour to open them and see what treasure is inside. Other than these I took some photos of the more interesting ones. (They were also too big).  

Half a Moon rock. Spot the fossils.

Now another prize found, it was onto Mt Isa for the last-minute supplies before heading north. 

Boodjamulla tomorrow, even though it is quite cool here today and the sky overcast.

Last thing to record: we went to the hotel last night for a few light refreshments. And looking at the table across from us, spot two friends from Inverloch who made the bike trip across Australia five years ago with us. It really is a small world.                     

     

   

Camping and Sunset on the road to Mt Isa

 

Part 3

All that glitters is not gold!

It’s official! We are now certified fossickers. Having a fossicker’s licence for the next month allows us the pickings of any sites within Queensland.

And we haven’t been tardy in finding our first ‘colour’. But I’ll get to that later. 

I need to update you on the find I had back before Eromanga. Remember I emailed the Natural History Museum with some photos? Well, a return email informed me, I didn’t find a ‘portal’ or a ‘dragon’s backbone’ but a very interesting weathering effect on ironstone. I like the dragon backbone theory better, but will accept they know a little more than I do. Oh well, maybe next time. 

The email I received re the photos

Meanwhile up the track, and I do mean track, we took the road less travelled between Jundah and Winton. This track lead us through some great Mulga country, with a magnificent mountain range to the west of us. The colours of the outback never cease to amaze and inspire me. From deep red of the land, to the grey-green of the spinifex; the land forever changes depending on the light of the day. The road was quiet, with only three other vehicles passing us the entire two hundred and fifty kms. 

We stopped on the banks of the glorious Mayne River. We were by ourselves in this camp and even though it was remote, felt at complete peace with nature. 

The bird life was outstanding with Great Herons, Egrets, Pigeons. Even my Willy Wagtail made another appearance. Right on dusk, a raucous sounding from the trees echoed across the campsite. Red-tailed Black Cockatoos. Not enough light for photographs, but striking to behold. You can breathe deeply out here and feel the ‘serenity’.

Mayne River camp

Onwards next day and we pass the turn off to Opalton. We pass the sign vowing to return. Our mission today is to see the Dinosaur Stampede exhibition twenty kilometres further toward Winton.

Once again, no disappointment in this complex. Money doesn’t seem to be an issue where dinosaurs once ruled. Coming into the complex was stunning. From the flat dry country, we entered hills of red rocks, spinifex and gum trees. The undulating nature led us to the dinosaur centre. A large stainless steel covered building, set in amongst the mountain range.

As Molly Meldrum said “do yourself a favour” and check out this place. 

To find this place initially and then to dedicate the hours is amazing. The tedious work, patience, and dedication the initial palaeontologist’s and volunteers completed is outstanding. 

Following our tour, we then headed back the kilometres to the Opalton turnoff. 

Turning, the dirt road we now encountered was no worse than travelled previously; until the corner heading north!  Then it was down to twenty kilometres per hour as corrugations became the constant. 

A road less travelled - Jundah to Winton

It was now becoming late in the day and we would normally have found a camp for the night, but the small mullock heaps which now dotted our horizon kept our mind seeking Oplaton. I didn’t think miners (of any sort) would appreciate us pulling up camp near one of their sites. (I’ve also watched too many movies about desperados).

Now passing a sign indicating ‘Fossicking Allowed Here’ gave us hope that our camp was only a short run from here. Opalton finally came into sight with a rustic ‘bush camping’ sign pointing to the left.

Dinosaur footprints

Heading the car into the camp we were greeted with ‘happy hour’ at the community information area. A donation of $2.50 per person, per night and a ‘pull over anywhere’ the recommendation, we were set up for the next couple of days. 

Allan was the gentleman who issued our licences. A short explanation, from one of the semi-permanent ladies, about what opal looks like and where to go, and we were on our fossicking way.

Up early, unhook van and out to seek our fortune. The first twenty minutes proved our best haul of opal. Glinting in the sunlight, I picked-up a piece just near the front tyre - a small piece and a purple colour. A few other pieces later and much more time, we moved on. 

As I said in a previous post, I love rocks. And this place didn’t disappoint. In fact, there were so many ‘nice’ rocks, I had to ban both of us from pulling any more back to the van. At one stage I had a pocket for rocks (general) and a pocket for opal. The pocket of rocks – full. Opals – nah, just a few bits. But at least I did find ‘colour’ which was my real motivation.

Opalton was a b onus on our trip, as I didn’t have any notion about its existence. Once a bustling town of over six-hundred people, all seeking their fortune one way or another, now no permanent resident. It was a positive experience in every way.

The people were helpful and friendly; the camp ample including campfire. Shower and flush toilet a bonus. The community centre a hub of activity each day at 4:00pm for debriefing, bragging about the days finds or general conversation with other like-minded people travelling the outback. 

My Opal find

Leaving Opalton, we were feeling a tinge of sadness. But we needed to head to civilisation after eating the contents of the last tin of baked beans the previous night. Other supplies were also severely diminished. Especially for hubby – no grog! 

We now sit at Winton; washing done, shopping complete and alcohol purchased. The Dinosaur Canyon our quest tomorrow before heading to Boulia to find Moon rocks!

Winton itself is a fascinating town. Very famous for the Banjo Patterson poet and Waltzing Matilda fame. Other eccentric attractions include Arno’s Wall and Musical Fence. Hubby found the Truck Museum stimulating as he reminisced over all the old engines, he plied his trade on eons ago. 

Arno's Wall - Winton

I wonder where the next track will lead? Don’t be surprised if we take another track less travelled. 

 

       

    

 

     

   

 

Eulo to Windorah 

Sitting on top of the world at Stonehenge. Yes, Australia does have a Stonehenge, albeit with no giant stones, but lots of smaller stones including the never-ending gibber.  

We crossed the Cooper Creek near Windorah this morning after staying on its banks about ten kilometres out of town. They don’t call this flat, plain, channel country for nothing. Travelling over numerous flood plains with some water in quite a few of the channels we have landed here on what is classified as a Jump-Up. 

Sturt was the first explorer to name the Cooper Creek and decided because it had no flow to it, a creek it had to be and not a river. Much of the Cooper is a series of billabongs which flow only after good rainfall. Eventually making its way down through Innamincka and onto Lake Eyre.  

Before continuing on our journey, let me take you back to where the last Blog post left off. On the hunt for dinosaurs and opals. 

Eulo, our first stop. An interesting man at the Opal shop gave us all the low-down on some fascinating conspiracies of today’s world. A smoker, with only one leg and an old opal miner from way back. I’m sure you have the picture. Beside his conspiracies he was a very helpful bloke on opals, and rocks within his store. The store, quite old, but kept in good condition for an old place. Hubby saw an old double-decker bus in the backyard and asked “does it still work”? 

Boulder Opal

“Yep” came the reply without hesitation, “she keeps the north-westerly wind from hittin’ the house”. Typical outback response. Priceless! Well, he was so nice I had to buy some opal (as I’m afraid that might be the closest, I get to the real thing). Plus, some attractive cut rocks, not exactly opals but appealing all the same. Oh, and a necklace: stone with small purple opal, hung by barb-wire! 

After this short stop it was onto Thargomindah. A quaint town on the banks of the Bulloo River.

I love the outback names; how they roll off the tongue. Here we stayed in our first van park for the couple of weeks away, so far. Washing and general clean up, the aim of the stay. The bird life was amazing, as being so close to the river we had Fairy-Martens darting and diving outside out windows most of the day. Colourful parrots, galahs, corellas, and of course the cheeky Willy-Wagtail. (More about him later). Thargomindah is not a large town but had a good size supermarket. Prices were expensive, but in the out-back you need to allow for this and not complain. If this town is not here, where do you get your supplies? Onto the Info Centre where we met up with another couple previously at the Biddegolly NP. (A large natural inland lake system, where we’d stopped for lunch). After talking with a lovely young lady about what to do in the town. She suggested a tour of the Old Power Station (first electric lights in town outside London and Paris); followed by the Old Hospital (with resident ghost) and ending with the Old Police Station. 

The power station and hospital were brilliant. Videos and holograms explaining how and what and where and when. You entered with a swipe key and waited (patiently) for the blinds to be drawn and the drama to commence. Alas, the police station was too much to take as nothing worked in here. The girl at the info centre did comment that people didn’t like getting locked in the cell. I wonder why? 

Pelican Point is a point of interest and is one of the locals favourite watering holes. Situated on the Bulloo River a natural weir provides a catchment for a swimming pool. BBQs, picnic tables and chairs are well situated below some magnificent Red Gum trees. 

Hubby even rescued a Yabby net from under a rock, someone had left. With some ingenuity and a tent peg, he had it sitting on the bank ready for the owner to collect. 

Leaving Thargomindah, the next morning we headed west before taking a northly diversion. We were still yet to find dinosaurs and reading the local tourist magazine, I’d picked up in the info centre, thought Eromanga might be a remarkable place. I was right! 

But let me take a moment to indulge in a fantasy of mine while walking around a camp site about seventy kilometres from Eromanga. To make it even more thought-provoking, we were the only ones there. 

I love rocks! Colours, texture, shapes, sizes. All intrigue me. Where did they come from? What are they made of? Every place I stop at (camp wise), I have my head to the ground and wander, in search of … anything that takes my fancy. On wandering this particular camp-site a small willy-wagtail followed me. Everywhere I went here he is dancing and twittering in front of me. While there was shrub protection he was fluttering up and down in front, to my side, back to the front, around the back.

WWT in flight. look closely!

 

As much as I was paying attention to him, I stumbled onto a strange shaped black piece of stone?, in the middle of a sandy coloured floor. I took a picture and wandered back to camp, excited to show hubby. He looked at it and said “there is another weird structure over there you need to look at. It’s just under the tree and is round.” Meanwhile the WWT is doing his calling and bantering in this particular tree Hubby pointed out. I walked over and found the very distinctive rock???, in the ground as described. I just finished a book from Nora Roberts called ‘The Awakening’ and I swear this black rock formation looked like a portal to another world, if ever I saw it! (or the backbone of a dragon)! WWT thought so too as he flew off and we didn’t see him again that day. 

Wierd black 'portal' with dragon backbone

Now enough with the imagination, onwards with the real story. 

Maybe petrified wood

Corey doing somme scraping.

 

Eromanga didn’t disappoint. In fact, I didn’t really know what to expect when we drove up to a magnificent building that could have passed for five-star accommodation. The Eromanga Natural History Museum is something to behold. A multimillion-dollar complex with theatrette, coffee shop, souvenirs and so forth, which has only been open for nine weeks. Didn’t we feel special! And a great big bone in the middle! A mind-blowing tour of the factory with all the dinosaur bones, casts, machinery for cleaning bones and a lecture of how the discoveries are made, had us both enthralled and overwhelmed. So much information, so many questions to ask. Corey, our guide, rattled off the names of prehistoric monsters as if it was his mother’s name. 

An hour and a half past before we traced our steps back to the administration building with our minds racing and a new appreciation of our earth’s ancestry. Oh, and I did show Corey my pictures of the weird stuff back at our camp. He was extremely interested and suggested my first picture might be petrified wood. He had no explanation for the ‘dragons back’, but liked the name! He asked me to email the pictures to the Centre, where a more experienced person will take a look. I have done this and await with some anticipation of my (our – hubby and my) find. 

Dinosaur leg bone (cast on outside. Brown bit bone)

In the meantime, heading out of Eromanga we headed to Quilpie. Another of those remote outback towns that have always captivated me. The only other time I was on Quilpie’s soil was back several years ago (7) as I touched down in an aeroplane on my way home from Birdsville. 

Being told to “get out of the outback, it’s too remote for you” (as I did have a medical issue), hubby and I had to leave our vehicle in Birdsville and fly, bus and train it back to East Gippsland. Well, I’m giving the outback another shot and hopefully this time, I can behave myself. And as for Quilpie, I didn’t find that much to do there, so moved on. 

Windorah was next on our list as another town I touched down in seven years back. Another disappointment! Not much here to attract the visitor beside the Cooper Creek a few kilometres down the track. Milk in the service station - out of date. Very little on the shelves and few people in the township. I’m not sure how these little places survive, or why? 

Jundah was the best little place we found in the Barcoo Shire. A near new service station provided much needed sustenance before heading out towards Longreach. 

View from our camp site at Stonehenge

I’m not sure which road we will take from here. Winton or Longreach is on the cards. I can see more dinosaurs are in sight and perhaps the odd opal as well. Oh, my goodness there’s the WWT again. I wonder where he will lead me this time; as I can see rocks too!

2021 Trip

The Great Escape.

Someone once said to me “you can plan all you want, but God will decide.”

Well, it appears God did decide! Or at least Covid -19 and the politicians decided. 

Due to leave on June 1^st, the Victorian government called a snap lockdown for ALL Victoria. It was now the 27^th of May. Following this information, I stamped my feet, swore a lot and made the instant decision to throw (literally) clothing and food into the, already prepared van, and head across the state border before being locked in. I wasn’t prepared to waste another week of my life in a lockdown, which didn’t even affect our region of Victoria.

The closest state border for us was 3 hours away, so we needed to go and go fast. We tried to rally the other parties who were coming with us to do the same, but for various reasons we were the only ones to make it out in time. (They sit at the border as I write, waiting for restrictions to ease and maybe, make the journey across. We are now in Queensland!). 

Our trip was not originally in the direction of Queensland. We were to follow my Mother’s journal. My father, mother and a couple of others made the trek across the Central Desert Road into Western Australia in 1992. 

We were to follow their travels, trekking up the Oodnadatta Track, into Alice Springs, onto Uluru before heading west into true desert country. 

I found my Mum’s journal before she passed away some 4 years ago and after reading bits and pieces remarked on how intrepid they were almost 30 years back. Yes, they had four-wheel-drives back then, but few other conveniences. We now have our off-road vans, with toilet, shower, washing machine and microwave! I wonder what Mum would think of all this?

Warri Camp NSW

As I said, we high-tailed it out of Victoria and spent the first night on the road being buffered by high winds and cold weather. Sleet greeted us the next morning. One other couple came with us in a last-minute rush. Not in the original party, but friends nevertheless. 

We travelled up the Monaro Highway, with sleet and small patches of snow finding its way to the ground. The heater in the car on full tilt! We wanted to avoid all major towns and instead of trying to go through Canberra, circumnavigated the entire state via some outback roads and some wonderful scenery. Snow had stopped by now and the vistas from the top-of the-world were spectacular.

Our next camp was by a river with large River Red Gums for company, along with some others panning for gold. The company was good, the fire burned brightly and all was good with our life. The only issue I had, because the other parties hadn’t made it out, was guilt! 

One of the gang initially coming, asked if we were stopping at Cann River on our way out? My response was “NO! Just get across the border ASAP!” They didn’t make it!

Ponto Falls Camp NSW

This feeling of guilt haunted me for quite a time, before I came to realize, we have choices in our life. Some choices are hard to make, especially when it involves others; some are easier, usually as an individual. Some choices are made for you and you need to adjust. Such as the choice not to go to Western Australia as originally planned. 

With state borders closed and permits required everywhere you go, outback roads impassable due to rain in the regions, we felt our choice to go to Queensland was the best option for us. 

Yes, we did some mice at Ponto Falls. Check the top of the tyre.

I now sit in sunny Queensland with the birds and the tress surrounding our camp area. Only three others in the area, so very peaceful.

The friends we initially came with spent about a week with us in NSW, before heading to Sydney to see their son and have now returned back to Victoria. We spent some wonderful time with them along the Macquarie River near Dubbo, at a place called Ponto Falls. Birdlife was amazing from Corellas, Galahs, Apostle Birds, Willy Wagtails, Pelicans, Ducks and so forth. Big River Red Gums once again provided the frame for the river behind, making our view magnificent. 

Artesian Bore Cunnamulla QLD

We cooked up a feast with camp oven tucker: Stew, which lasted for 3 days! Linda made rissoles and chips another night and we even had roast chicken, with crunchy potatoes in foil. Got to love outback cooking!
Then our time together was up and each went their separate ways. They to Sydney, we north-west, heading to Cobar.
As all outback roads were closed, due to rain, our plans to meet the others were thwarted twofold. One, they were still stuck on the Victorian border and two, we had no way to get to Menindee where there was a chance to rendezvous. Once again, a sad choice was made to no longer wait for our friends, as they still hoped to go to Alice Springs and Uluru. When and if they can, we still don’t know.

I didn’t want to try for a South Australian and Northern Territory border pass after the Lepers we are from Victoria! Getting a NSW and Queensland one is bad enough. And the good thing about Queensland is, we haven’t seen much of it beforehand. The other positive is, our son lives in Cairns. As we haven’t seen him in eighteen months and thought it was a good opportunity to catch up. Maybe this whole trip has been fortuitous.  
Crossing the border yesterday we travelled onto Cunnamulla. Our first stop for purely tourist purposes. Taking in the video at the Info Centre about the Great Artesian Basin, was fascinating. Then some sustenance before walking the 1.5km bushland walking trail, finding out about the indigenous trees to the area and their purposes. Both in the European and aboriginal aspects. Our final tourist site was photographing the ‘Cunnamulla Fella’. 

We are now travelling west and are hopeful of finding opals at Eulo. And maybe dinosaurs at Winton, or one of the many other places which seem to have these prehistoric monsters hidden beneath the ground. Sounds exciting to me!    

Part 8 - Final for 2019

We made the Tip! Wahoo, after a false start 5 years ago, the mission has been completed! 

We have now started south again for the final leg of the Cape and then home. But let me retrack a bit first.

After departing Weipa, we headed north, past the Andoom Mine (Rio Tinto) and onto the little community of Mapoon. Aboriginal owned and run this little township was a picture to behold. Flowerbeds at either entrance, little rubbish and a very colourful Café. The only downside was the number of dogs freely roaming the streets – in packs! After picking up our Park Pass to Cullen Point and a nice coffee, we were on our way out to Old Mapoon. Old Mapoon is known as the site of first contact between Europeans and Aboriginals of Australia. A Dutchman Janzoon, in 1606 had two encounters; the first friendly enough, the second not so friendly. After navigating and mapping along the east Carpentaria coastline, he decided he didn’t want to know much more about the place. Obviously, he couldn’t recognise Bauxite or didn’t understand its uses, else he may have staked a claim. 

Captain James Cook in 1770, made note in his journal that although he claimed Australia as we know it today, for Briton, he was aware the Dutch (and Spanish: Torres) had been here previously and maybe they had first claim on the land. Needless to say, the British Navy didn’t like that thought and edited it from the journal. 

Later in Mapoon’s history, the missionaries came and tried to save the native souls, bringing in many islanders, and other tribes from surrounding areas. It was also the time of the ‘stolen generation’ with many displaced children being taken from their families. 

Old Mapoon was then ‘relocated’ to near Barmaga (on the Tip) in 1963, after the Queensland government and Comalco, (forerunner to Rio Tinto) signed a document. (Not sure on the politics on that one)! Several years later some of the original owners of Mapoon went back and claimed their place in the world.  So today we have both – Mapoon and New Mapoon. 

Now Cullen Point was an interesting place, sitting at the mouth of the Wenlock and Ducie Rivers (East side) and Gulf of Carpentaria (West side). Our camp site had waterfront views over the two rivers and gulf. Thank goodness we were sitting out on the tip as a gentle breeze blew most of the time cooling our 30C day. The site was white/grey sand, and reflecting from the ground made it extremely warm. Our traveller fellow, under instruction from hubby made his way around to his sight, but unfortunately became bogged in the sand. Never fear! The winch was swung into action as the two males were now in their element. No 4WD adventure is complete unless you get to use your winch – apparently!

Following a few tense and harrowing moments for the onlookers, all was back to the way it should be. Winch safely tucked away hopefully not to be used again on the trip. It was now time for the boys to unload the boat and test their ability at the angling side of things here. Weipa had proved slightly successful, maybe the gulf and two rivers would be more fruitful. After travelling in and out of channels and rivers only a handful of Spanish Mackerel could be caught. On return to shore, they thought it a good idea to try their hand at ‘shark fishing’. Not a very bright idea, I thought, as many sharks inhabit these areas. Our neighbours, trying their hand at Fly fishing, were being chewed off, almost every cast. Hubby did catch one shark (you could see the fins), but it broke the line. To encourage the sharks closer, they enticed it with the Mackerel, caught earlier. Well it worked! In comes a shark, no further than 6’ from the shoreline. Swimming merrily about, devouring all the dead fish caught. All 3 fins of him! With the show over, it was time to make for home. Boat reloaded and a quick look for turtle eggs. (Our neighbours were walking the beach the previous night and saw two turtles). We found no sign of turtles, but the ‘logs’ on the beach opposite appeared to move greatly! Once again up here, fabulous beaches but also deadly; shark, croc, stingers.

Next morning the breeze had turned into a moderate wind and time to move out if we didn’t want to be sandblasted. Back into Mapoon, (one more coffee) through Weipa (one last time) and onto York Dam for the night. A wonderful place beside a dam, specially put in for tourists from the York Station (a few kms further down the track). A ramshackle toilet (door off) but beautiful blue water in the dam. If adventurous enough you could swim. 

Next morning, we were seriously going to the ‘Tip’. No more detours, no more ‘let’s look at this’… to the TIP! We were now conscious of time, and the lack of it, if we were to be home late August. 

One of our beautiful sunsets

Out of York Dam, we made a short-cut through Batavia Downs (the original Station encompassing Weipa). We travelled quickly as the dirt road was well pressed with few corrugations.  Turning onto the Peninsula Development Road (Cape) and we faced a whole other road. Rough, corrugations and dust! A few more kms up the road and we spot the Moreton Telegraph Station. Time for reprieve and to see the old station and what it has to offer. Yes, more coffee but also some great paraphernalia of the overland telegraph from Cairns to the Tip. We also spotted a poster of the Steve Irwin Habitat for the Wild. An area reserved for wildlife between the Wenlock and Ducie rivers which used to be the Bertiehugh Station. They have researchers from around the world come to work out here. Who knew?

We by-passed Bramwell Station and continued on the PDR (Peninsula Development Road).

Fruit Bat Falls - the closest we came to the OTR (Old Telegraph Road)

Our male traveller thought we could check out ‘Gunshot’ on the Old Telegraph Track, but we put our foot down and left him in more dust! Corrugations really started to beat the tyres, car and van around now, slowing us to 20kms most for the time. Will we ever get there? A slight reprieve with some bitumen, made it bearable as we finally tumbled into Jardine River, ready to camp and obtain our pass across the ferry and into NPA land. 

A pleasant camp overnight then it was onto the ferry. OMG! 

The ferryman was extremely pleasant. Hubby had already been down the night before to check out the approach and exit from the ferry. A friend our ours a few years back bent/broke his towbar getting on/off this ferry. I was not looking forward to this. 9 minutesfor them to cross we were finally on the last leg of our journey. 

Jardine River Ferry 

Stopped at the sign before being directed to enter the ferry, I’m trying to remain calm. Underneath the exterior the pulse is rising and heart palpating. The man on the ferry gives a hand signal directing ‘come down’. Turn tyres this way, then back again, then straight ahead. I think we are about to run off the ferry before hubby finally stops. I let out a not-so-silent STOP! He finally pulls up, turns the engine off and pulls on the hand brake. We are on our way, by ourselves. We leave the others, in their Kimberly Caravan, behind. Obviously, the Ferry Drivers know ‘class’ when they see it! Coming off the other end was not as harrowing. We were back on terra-ferma and now it was my turn to video the others doing their crossing. After waiting 

Before arriving to find our camp site, (yes, I know) we detoured to the WW2 Aircraft monument and crash-site. Then onto the Seisa Airport (for a look) and over the airfield to see some more old relic plane crash sites and fuel dump.

WW2 Airplane crash

Finally, we turn into Bamaga for a few essential items before heading out to Umagico Caravan Park, finding a lovely spot with beach frontage and light breeze. The sunset was a bonus. As it was only early afternoon, we unhitched and took a short trip to Injinoo to check out boat ramps and fishing spots for the fellows. A few lures were tossed around, to no avail. The slide marks on the bank at one lonely site had “CROC” written all over them. We learned later a big croc had been shot at this site a few weeks earlier. He was being of concern to the locals and (dogs). Intelligent Croc had worked out when the school bell rang, children would run down to the water and throw their non-eaten lunches away. He had already taken a dog and now the community was at risk. The only solution – BANG!  

With no fish and no incidents with crocs, it was back to camp to enjoy happy-hour and the sunset. Tomorrow “THE TIP”!  

The road to the tip was also unexpected as we found our way through rain forest and hills, over water crossings before finally parking below a huge pile of sandstone rocks. These rocks in the form of hills formed our walking path out to the edge of the Torres Strait and the final assault on the ‘Tip’. As per our entire journey we were buffeted by wind as we clung tightly to the sign that says “you have reached the most northernmost point on the Australian continent”. It was a strange emotion I felt holding this pole. I was relieved that I had accomplished what I set out to do, but I also felt let-down somehow. Is this all it was? Why was I so driven to be here? I worked out it was the fear of missing out. When my previous trip had been so disastrous, I felt everyone else had seen something I hadn’t and I’d missed out. I’d been disappointed and dejected for months after this, until they returned with tales of their adventures. Now it was my turn and I truly believed the journey had been the important part. The destination was just the cream on top. 

We made it!

Our journey to the Tip was completed but we were to experience more culture of the top-end when we booked a trip to the three islands in Torres Strait. Friday island where a Japanese man had made his home for the past 26 years. He was also a pearl dealer, who cultivated his own pearls after buying out a lease from a previous pearl famer. His place was in the true Japanese style, with raked sand in the garden beds and many Japanese icons around the place. A very peaceful place as he had the whole island to himself (and the 5 Japanese back-packers for five months of the year, helping in his small shop and around the island). Once a week he would make the trip over to Thursday Island to do his shopping, and once a year he would go back to Japan to sell his wares and see his 92 year old mother. 

Next on the boat trip was Thursday Island. Being a Sunday most of the shops were closed, therefore after a quick taxi ride around the island and a very informative chat from Dirk (our driver), we headed for the pub. Not any old Pub, but the ‘most northernly in Australia’ pub!  

What we did see of Thursday Island was beautiful. The water a simmering turquoise and white sand made for a spectacular view from the old fort atop the hill. Pity about all the sharks, crocs and other nasties. 

Friday Island - pearl farm

Thursday Island bus shelter

The cemetery was very interesting too, as the TI people have what the call an ‘unveiling day’. After the burial, the family save their money for a granite or marble headstone, with a small history of the person engraved on it along with their name. By the time the headstone is completed and sent back to TI, the family put on a big celebration and unveil the headstone. No one is to see the headstone before the unveiling. 

There were also many Japanese headstones in one section. This was due to the influx of enforced labour of pearl divers in the early 1900’s. The graves had been in disrepair for some time and only now are being restored to their previous standard. 

The final island for the day was Horn Island. Horn Island was home to many servicemen and women of the period of WW2. There is a great museum on the island of all sorts of interesting documentation and pictures from this time, including from the Japanese perspective. Some photos quite evocative and emotionally disturbing.

The picture says it all! How sad.

By now all our bodies and minds were beginning to wain and were looking forward to our boat trip home. But not before some of the people on the trip decided they needed to stock up on a ‘slab’ or two! Their reasoning – cheaper here in TI, than in Seisa.

Although the boat trip home was a bit rough, it was very similar to the conditions experienced at times on our own Gippsland Lakes. Because the Great Barrier Reef surrounds this place, the waves are mostly choppy and not large. We arrived home safely and were now ready to start the trek southward. 

With a sense of sadness in our hearts, the car now headed south. We made good time down the PDR with all roadhouses being serviced with our money; either going up or coming back. Musgrave doubly so as we camped and ate out, up and down the track. The final assault for our Cape York adventure was to turn off at Laura toward Battle Camp Station.  The road took us 4WD past the outskirts of Lakefield NP. A few water crossings, up and down the Great Divide and we were now close to Cooktown. A minor detour out to Hopevale; a lovely community set amongst rainforest and green grassy paddock, before we arrived at our destination for the evening.  

Cooktown was very different to what I had imagined. In my mind it would be a large community. Instead it was quite small with a few hotels, small shopping strip and one IGA supermarket. It also contained much memorabilia of Capt. James Cook and his exploits in fixing the ship Endeavour. The museum, set in an old convent, was very well set-up with artefacts displayed from by-gone eras of gold mining, the township and the convent days. James Cook also received a mention, anchor and all!

A quick look to survey the countryside and ocean, from the top of the Grassy Hill, after being nearly blown away, we then scooted out to the Botanical Garden. Checking out the small shopping precinct, fellow lady traveller spent a few dollars on a pretty iridescent necklace, before we all headed to the local establishment for a not-so-quite ale. (The music on the jukebox was exceptionally load). 

Cooktown lighthouse 

After consultation with our travelling troupe (the other two), we decided to leave our Cooktown camp late afternoon, to head down the track to a little place called ‘The Lion’s Den’. The Lion’s Den is just off the main road from Lakeland to Cooktown, but it is also the start and end of the road for us to be able to attempt the infamous, ‘Bloomfield Track’. 

Many people we met gave us conflicting information on the track conditions. Was it suitable for caravans? Yes, no, maybe came the responses. Our fellow female traveller resorted to the information pack and read “it has 32 kms of gravel, corrugated and steep slopes. 4WD only, with several water crossings.” (All okay so far. We were feeling just a tiny bit smug with our other 4WD exploits).  But the thing that swung the vote was “inclines and descents of up 31% in places”. This statement became our deal breaker for taking any vans past Lion’s Den.

The trip over the Bloomfield lived up to its reputation. Yes, on the really steep parts there is concrete to help you not slip. But they forget to tell you about the right-hand corners on the 30% incline and the rough washouts when you meet another vehicle. Or maybe the overhanging trees that would wipe out your air-conditioner on the van. The risk was certainly not worth the angst. We had certainly made the right decision. 

On entry to the other side we found civilization at Cape Tribulation. (Another Capt. Cook historical place, but also a pretty beach with coconut palms). A tour down the road, we checked out Cow Bay and the Daintree Rainforest but the elusive (or imaginary) cassowary were not to be spotted. 

We had friends in the Daintree area and finding some phone coverage were able to make our way to their hideaway in the rainforest. A pleasant hour was passed in conversation with these two before showing us their ‘slice of heaven’. 3.5 hectares of rainforest with ferns plentiful and the vanilla beans (of which these two are famous for). Unfortunately, the beans had finished for the season with only the empty vines hanging at present. 

It was now 3:30pm and we needed to get back on the track if we were to make home before dark. The drive back was uneventful. We even made better time back than coming over. Funny that!

Friends in the Rainforest 

One last diversion on the track was just before Wugal Wugal (another well-kept Aboriginal community), where we went into see the Bloomfield Falls; a towering mountain of freshwater flowing over granite rocks.  A crocodile was sunny himself on the other side of some rocks. So even though the water looked inviting, I thought I might decline the invitation.

We finally made it back into camp by 6:00pm, just before dark. The only thing left to do now was… have a drink and meal at the legendary Lion’s Den. One very iconic Australian hotel. And being a Saturday night there was music as well. All is good with the world from this vantage point.

Well we have finished our exploits in the FNQ. We caught up with our son in Cairns and have made it into Townsville to spend some time with my brother before the final assault on heading home. We may stop and say hello to a few other friends up this way, but more than likely the hubby will want to push for the home town lights. 

This will be the last chapter in the blog for this time. Until next time, I will sign off wishing you all safe travels and happy memories.