Trip 4: August 15, Part 2

As we headed the 20 or so miles to the Dig Tree, the red dunes of sand country came back into view. Across the border into Queensland’s Bulloo Shire. The Dig Tree is on private property, the Nappa Merrie Station, but because it is such an important historic site, it is kept open to the public. There is an entry booth where someone from the station (a hand or, today, the nanny—everyone takes turns, we were told) offers information and collects the $10 per car fee that pays for keeping the road open and the area around the tree cared for. (And for a slightly higher fee, one can camp nearby.)

The Dig Tree is part of the tragic story of the end of the Burke and Wills expedition. The explorers made it all the way across the continent, the first to ever cross going south to north, but when they got back to the camp on Cooper Creek, the backup team, which had waited for four months, had left—only nine hours earlier. The Dig Tree refers to a tree on which the back-up team leader, William Brahe, had carved a message about where to dig to find extra supplies that had been left for the explorers, in case they ever did return.

Seeing the Dig Tree was moving—but the stop was made more delightful by the presence of great numbers of correllas, plus egrets and herons. Then we stopped at another tree into which a portrait of Burke had been carved in 1898.

Then it was back to the wild road. Some compelling landscape and some merely astonishing. Clouds of galahs rose at our approach at one spot. We passed a few other cars, and out here, everyone waves when they pass.

Stopped in Innaminka to take photos of the surrounding area, and then headed to the general store again, for a few supplies. Topping my shopping list was a bottle of RID, a local product highly recommended by Nikki that both repels mosquitoes and, very necessary at this point, soothes the itching of the bites I’d already accumulated. (Down side of camping near water.)

Back at camp, I started the fire for cooking dinner. Now the sun is down, Nikki (who has a lovely voice) is singing softly, and Richard is grilling sausages and eggs. The birds are indulging in their usual evening symphony, with galahs and corellas making the biggest contribution to the background noise.

Nice dinner. We even had a steamed pudding, which was a grand treat. Companionable evening, as usual. Nikki and Richard went to bed at the usual 8:30, but I was feeling restless, so I’ve stayed up and am now writing by firelight—but also enjoying my surroundings. The Southern Cross is riding down the sky, but is still gloriously bright. I will probably only see it while I’m out here camping. Two other treats: I saw a shooting star and (quite remarkably) saw the grand sweep of stars overhead reflected in the creek (only possible to see because it is so dark out here). Glorious. And finally, to bed at the outrageous hour of 9:45.

Trip 4: August 15, Part 1

Beautiful sunrise—but noisy. Galahs, parrots, corellas, peewees, and several birds I could not identify broke into joyous cacophony as the sun peaked over the edge of the world.

The morning chill began to dissipate as the sun topped the trees and shone on our camp. We’re actually camped in what would be the bed of the river, if it were at full flood. As it is, we’re about 15 feet above its current level. Pretty amazing difference a little rain makes. The river is lined with river red gums and coolibahs (both large, handsome eucalypt trees—though thanks to the song “Waltzing Matilda,” more people outside Australia have heard of coolibahs). Nikki was heating water for our morning tea, and I quite happily got a photograph of her waiting for the billy to boil under the shade of a coolibah tree.

Nikki and I had a second cup of tea, while Richard changed the flat tire for the spare. I expressed my concern over this being such a rough trip, and Richard reassured me, “This is what it’s like out here. That’s why I’m prepared—and why I have insurance, for when it’s harder to fix than a flat tire.” Fortunately, he also expressed the sentiment that not traveling in the outback was not something he was willing to consider. Then, that task done, we headed off for a hike along the river, just to enjoy our surroundings, before heading out for the day.

Driving toward town, it was startling to see how, within yards of the lushness surrounding the river, the land became dramatically drier. We stopped at the nearby KING tree. Unlike other blazed trees in this area, this one doesn’t date back to the 1861 expedition, but was carved in 1947 to commemorate that this is the area where the expedition’s John King both survived and was found.

Into Innaminka, which was surveyed in 1890. First business was to get the flat tire patched. Then, since we haven’t had a shower in three days, we headed for the Innaminka public ablution block. The $2 “donation” seemed like a bargain, especially since there was plenty of hot water. Lovely.

The National Park Service office for this area is housed in what was originally a hospital established by the Australian Inland Mission (AIM). The building has been restored and, in addition to offices, houses a display of the area’s history, both European and Aboriginal.

Stopped at the town’s delightful general store to pick up lunch. Bought meat pies (yum) and Bundaberg ginger beer (spicy but non-alcoholic). One thing that caught my attention was a very practical product for campers: “toothpaste tubes” filled with condensed coffee and milk. Just squeeze a bit in your cup and add hot water. Clever.

After eating, we headed for Burke’s grave. This is where explorer Robert O’Hara Burke was buried when he was found dead near here in 1861. His bones were later taken to Melbourne and a monument was erected. Then on to the Dig Tree.

Video: Outback Innamincka and Cooper Creek

While I have hundreds of photos of this trip, they are slides, and I don’t really have the time to scan all the slides at this point in my life. Maybe another time. But there are plenty of videos out there, made by other people who have visited the area—in this case, professionally. In this video, you’ll see jump ups, eagles, Burke’s grave, Cooper Creek, pelican, egret, corellas (small white cockatoos), both singly and in large flock, river red gums, rocks. The lake fed by the creek is full in this video. It was a bit lower when I was there. But this will still give a good feeling for how wonderful this was.

Trip 4: August 14, Part 2

Lunch finished, were again on the road, over dunes and then, with a change of direction, paralleling them for a while. The corrugations on the road are bad in sections, but the “splendid isolation,” Richard observes, makes the roughness worthwhile. (I’m glad he thinks so, since he’s doing all the driving!).

On toward Merty Merty Station, past a giant dune, and then onto the Strzelecki Track, one of several tracks in Australia famous for remoteness and ruggedness.

Desolate area, largely. However, near the beginning of the track, signs remind us that not far away from this intersection, there is drilling for natural gas, which makes Australia self-sufficient for this resource.

Far off to our right, the giant red dune runs parallel to the track for miles and miles. Richard says that all the dunes stretch across the desert like that. It seems odd to look across the miles of pale beige sand to see the deep-red dunes rising in the distance. Richard says the dunes are generally 30 to 50 feet high.

At the end of the track, we turned right and headed back into the red dunes. We’re beginning to see spinifex. Then out of sand country and back to gibber plains. Into Innaminka just after 4:00. Stopped at the rangers station, to find out about the best places to camp and to pay camping fees.

Dozens of galahs and a few corellas swirled into the air nearby, then settled again, hunting for seeds. No time to investigate, however, as we need to find our campsite, so we can set up camp before dark. Pretty bleak area, really, but dramatic.

And suddenly, it’s lush and beautiful, as we reach Cooper Creek. We have a great camp site. Splendid view of the wide, still creek, with lots of trees and birds everywhere. Perfect.

And I’m immensely pleased to actually be camping on the historic Cooper Creek. Our campsite is named King’s site, because king was found here by the rescue party. Wow. (If you’re not familiar with the significance of Cooper Creek, check out info on Burke and Wills. Of course, if you have my book Waltzing Australia, you can just turn to the appendix, where I include the entire tragic tale.)

Splendid sunset—merest sliver of a moon (but slightly more than last night), clear dark blue sky with a blaze of orange along the horizon, all reflected in the water. A great flotilla of pelicans coming up the creek is outlined darkly against the bright, sky-reflecting water. The cries of galahs and corellas ring through the trees around us. Lovely.

Oops. One tire is flat. Richard found a nail in it. He’ll change it in the morning, and we can get it patched in town. It tells you something about the area that every stopping point is prepared to fix things like this.

Another nicer dinner, campfire, conversation, and to bed before 9:00.

Trip 4: August 14, Part 1

Up early, packed up camp, and were on the road by about 8:15. First to Tibooburra, to visit the Country Store. I love this remarkable little shop. Friendly people, lots of homemade goodies, a surprisingly wide range of foodstuffs (including Indian curries and imported European chocolates). Plus camping supplies and auto parts. We were there for fill-ups on petrol and butane. (The butane is essential because most parks do not permit wood fires. These created two problems in the past: wood carried in brought insects and disease that caused diebacks in several forests, and, of course, the occasional fire got out of control.)

Off on the Jump Up Road. A jump up is an eroded hill, like a low mesa or butte, and the books Richard had brought along on the trip said that they are characteristic of the eastern part of Sturt National Park.

Kangaroos, rocks, low scrub, isolated short trees, bursts of greenery along creek beds, jump ups visible on the near horizon. At one creek crossing, Richard mentioned that river red gums (which adorn most creeks out here) are the most widely distributed eucalypts in Australia.

Acacias are all in bloom, as are many other wild flowers. Mobs of kangaroos (and “mob” is the correct term for a group of kangaroos). The road is rough, but our surroundings are splendid. Before long, the Dingo Fence came into view. It follows the border between Queensland and New South Wales at the point where we saw it. The fence was started in 1880 to try to stop the spread of rabbits, which became a real and devastating plague. Then, in 1914, the fence was repaired to keep dingoes out of sheep-raising area.

For a short distance, we left behind the astonishing gibber plain and entered an area of red sand. The dunes were dotted with small bushes with yellow flowers and seed pods. They are members of the grevillea family and are known as desert rattle pods.

Then suddenly we were back to gibbers. Some of creek beds we passed or crossed were filled with pale sand, and others were an incredible jumble of rocks.

Another stretch of red dirt. This is my favorite terrain: red dirt and silvery to olive green scrub. It reminds me of the Red Centre. But Richard assured me there would be plenty more gibbers ahead.

Near Fort Grey, a depot created and used by Charles Sturt as a base for exploring the area, we turned off the 4WD track onto the main road, which was simply a broader, smoother dirt road, and headed for Cameron Corner, the spot where South Australia, Queensland, and New South Wales meet. (Cameron Corner was named for surveyor James Cameron, who established the borders of the three states in 1880.)

Into sand hill country—really rolling countryside. Through the dog fence at the South Australia border. Quick stop at the “Cameron Corner Store” for beverages (iced coffee for me). As remote as it is, this utilitarian store makes it obvious that this area sees a bit of tourism, as they have a gift shop and a cappuccino machine, as well as offering meals, fuel, minor auto repairs, and camp sites. Beverages purchased, we headed over to the actual corner, where the “Three States Pole” marks the point at which the borders meet. The pole is topped with a brass plate that shows exactly where the lines were drawn, and which state you’re in, depending on where you stand in relation to the pole. (For some reason, these sorts of lines are always interesting.)

Back to the red dirt rollercoaster. Dune after rolling red dune. We were crossing the Strzelecki Desert. Richard found us a level, sandy spot near a windmill to enjoy our lunch. Broad and open. Perfect.

Trip 4: August 13, Part 2

Cleaned up after lunch, and then headed off on the Gorge Loop Road, heading for South Myers Tank. In the outback, a tank is essentially, a large, manmade pool or pond, that captures water during rare rains—water that would otherwise simply run out into the surrounding desert and dry up. This tank is a birding “hot spot.” More than 100 species of bird have been spotted here. Among the many we saw, most abundant were pied and black cormorants, pelicans, and a variety of ducks. Plus there were gorgeous butterflies.

Continuing on, we crossed gibber plains, surrounded by sampfire plants, gidgee trees (a type of acacia), dry river courses lined with river red gums, coolibahs, emus, and rocks—lots of rocks. Stopped at Horton Park, an old sheep station now in ruins but used as recently as the 1950s. Passed the South Torrens Bore, which marks the southern edge of the Artesian Bore. Miles and miles of rocks—it amazes me that this area ever got explored, let alone settled. Kangaroos—reds. Actually, the males are red, but the females, called blue flyers, are blue/gray. And more emus. Males incubate the eggs and raise the young. (I’ve seen more emus in the last two days than I’ve seen in my three previous trips combined.)

Richard noted that these gibber plains are known as Mitchell grass plans in the spring, when they are green.

Stop at Mt. Wood Station, a historic site begun around 1890. Still standing are the homestead, shearers’ quarters, shearing shed, and wool scouring shed.

Continuing on, headed for Tibooburra, Richard commented that the road to Tibooburra used to be considered one of the worst roads in Australia. Hard to imagine how much worse it could be and still be passable. Lots of rocks.

In Tibooburra, stopped at the Charles Sturt memorial at the Pioneer Park. Sturt came through Tibooburra as he searched for a route north—and for an inland sea that he felt must exist. The memorial includes a copy of a boat that Sturt brought along on his exploration, just in case he found that sea, which he never did. (If you’ve read my book, Waltzing Australia, you may remember the poem I wrote titled “Sturt’s Revenge,” when I got trapped in an outback flood.) Took a few photos around town and then back to our camp site.

It’s a beautiful evening. The sky is cloudless. Galahs and magpies keep flashing through camp. The sun is setting, making the already beautiful spot absolutely magical. I’m so glad we spent a couple of days here.

Richard has the maps out and we’re planning tomorrow’s journey up the Strzlecki Track toward Innaminka. Before he became a bush guide, Richard was a history and geography teacher, so he shares more information than just directions. Then it was time to fix dinner.

Euros are feeding nearby, a magpie is begging for handouts, galahs are chattering in the trees. Wonderful. One young euro was right at the edge of our camp and didn’t seem to even notice when Nikki turned the flashlight on it. Must be used to campers.

The Milky Way is unbelievable—so dramatic in this hemisphere. But now it’s time to go to bed, as we have an early start tomorrow.

Trip 4: August 13, Part 1

Wild wind last night, so not a great night for sleeping—but the wind has at least swept the sky clean, and there are no clouds in sight.

Richard was up a bit earlier than Nikki and I, and he made tea and brought it to us in our tents. Such service. This is the life—room service, fresh air, warm sleeping bag, great view. Galahs, kites, rocks, trees, wild flowers, BLUE sky. This place, Sturt National Park, like other National Park properties on which I’ve camped, is beautiful and well-tended. Camp sites are arranged in areas that don’t affect the surrounding land forms. There are just enough facilities (dunnies/outhouses, grills, rainwater tanks) to make camping a bit easier, colored to match the foliage, and well-spaced so they don’t block the view. Plus there are walking trails through the area nearby. Ideal.

And speaking of trails, we were soon hiking about, following the Granites, a 4-kilometer walking track. “The Granites” for which the track is named are giant boulders formed by magma that pushed up through the earth when the volcano here never quite managed to really erupt. The granite boulders are estimated to be 450 million years old. The name of this area, Tibooburra, is actually an Aboriginal word that means “heap of rocks,” so this trail was living up to the area’s name.

Trees (mostly desert bloodwoods) and flowers (including some of the lovely Sturt desert peas) decorated the landscape. Copper-burrs were not blooming, but Richard pointed out the fruiting bodies covered with white hairs. Lizards basked on rocks and wallabies grazed on patches of grass.

The terrain changed dramatically and often as we continued. Granite boulder outcrops gave way to quartzite and granite, and then shales, ironstone, and other layered rocks. This was a big area for gold mining, and everything sparkles with gold dust.

The track was a loop, and it eventually took us back to our camp site. From there, Richard drove us to the nearby Golden Gully Mining site. As the name suggests, this was a site where gold was mined, but it was also processed here, and the site was littered with aging equipment used for all stages of the process: steam engine, whip and mine shaft, stamper battery, windlass, sluicing tower (called a whim), with a wheel for turning the crank to lift the water, drill press (with a tree growing around it), wagon bellows, grinding stone, and an old miner’s cottage, with the roof collapsing but the chimney still intact. Definitely hinted at stories and dreams and hard work. Remarkable to even think of working here.

Exploring done, we headed into town, to get some beverages and petrol, then ran back to camp for lunch.

Trip 4: August 12, Part 2

Onward, onto the gibber plains. (Gibber comes from an Aboriginal word for “stone,” and stones are what cover broad plains here.) However, while there are abundant gibbers, the terrain is not unvaried. There are salt lakes, clay pans, and scrub, and hills and buttes rise in the hazy distance. We share the open spaces with emus, kangaroos, eagles, and sheep.

Short stop at Milparinka. The name is Aboriginal and means “water may be found here” or “everlasting water.” Milparinka was at one time a successful gold mining town. Today, while it is now nearly deserted, it is worth stopping. The historic Albert Hotel, built in 1882, is a still operating Outback pub that still offers accommodation, as well as having a campground. Restored buildings now house an art gallery, a souvenir shop, and displays where you can learn about Aboriginal culture, Charles Sturt’s expedition, and the “boom” days, when the town grew to a population of 300 people. Trees nearby outline the course of Evelyn Creek, the source of the water promised by the town’s name. The surprisingly handsome Courthouse was designed by the same architect who designed the Sydney Post Office. Fascinating stop—but not our destination, so we were soon back on the rough, red road.

Ooops. Very rough road. Flat tire. But Richard is prepared, because this is a common occurrence out here. Tools. Spare tire. Air pump. A delay, but not a disaster.

And on to Tibooburra. While this town is remote and small (population 134), because this region is historically important, the New South Wales National Parks and Wildlife Service has a tourist information center here. At the center, a delightfully knowledgeable and enthusiastic Park Ranger not only told us where to camp, what conditions were like, and what wildlife was around at present, but also recommended a local handyman who could repair our wrecked tire.

Tibooburra is an attractively rugged little town surrounded by spectacular scenery. There had been a little rain, and a magnificent rainbow, almost a full arc, crowned the glory of our campsite, which was just a short distance away. Had to smile at the name of the site, however, as it does not suggest a lovely location: we’re camped at Dead Horse Gully.

It was our second time setting up camp, so everything went more quickly this time, as we all knew where everything went. Beautiful site. Astonishing rocks, beautiful trees, lots of birds. Yahoo. Bit of info from Richard: the great, round rocks are created by spheroidal boulder weathering, also known as onion skin weathering. Over centuries, wind and rain peel the outer layers of granite off these great boulders—similar to the rocks known as the Devil’s Marbles—leaving them remarkably round.

Lovely sunset. Surprisingly splendid dinner: red wine, lamb chops, green beans, teriyaki rice. Richard has a big gas ring with a wok and clearly plenty of experience. Very nice.

Nikki is filling in today’s entry in her diary, even as I write this. She says she has done this for 16 years, and not just when she travels. Fun to think of having such a record of life.

Can’t see the stars tonight, but the cloud cover means it will be a bit warmer than if it were clear. The wind is picking up a bit, but it’s still a gentle evening. No huddling and shivering like the last two nights. (Not to be forgotten: August is mid-winter in Australia.)

Our lanterns are attracting most of Australia’s moths, but thanks to Nikki’s spray, we’re not attracting mosquitoes. A bit of rain, then a break in the cloud and we could see stars, and then rain, stars, clouds—and to bed by 9 pm.

Trip 4: August 12, Part 1

Spectacular sunrise. Warmer day, and the camp ground has good facilities, so I got a chance to shower and wash my hair before we head out bush. It may be a few days before I have the chance again. By the time I was heading back from the ablution block to our camp site, the corellas were all awake and greeting the morning with their usual cacophony.

Breakfast, then time to take camp apart, pack the 4WD, hitch the camping trailer, and head out. Quick stop in town to say good-bye to some of Richard’s friends at the tourist center, then on the road, heading north on the Silver City Highway. We’ll be on sealed roads on and off for the next hour or so, and then it will be nothing but unpaved roads—dirt and/or rocks—for the next several days.

Stopped at Stephens Creek, a watercourse that, like so many in this area, is generally dry, but has enough moisture in the soil from during the wet season that it is lined with trees. As much as I love the open, red wilderness, I am always drawn to the contrast of a dry creek bed shaded by hundreds of massive river red gums. Wonderful. Enjoyed the beauty and took a lot of photographs. Richard related that, a bit farther upstream, there is a dam that has created a reservoir, but that was not visible from where we crossed the creek. By this point in the journey, the road was dirt and the ride was getting rougher. This is when Richard’s skill and experience behind the wheel became vital.

For being in the seeming middle of nowhere, there was a surprising amount of history around us. We are now traveling on the route that explorers Burke and Wills and Charles Sturt took on their various treks northward, as they attempted to cross the continent. We crossed the Mount Gibbs Station, where Charles Rasp, who discovered the ore body that would be named Broken Hill, once worked as a boundary rider. Passed the Corona Station, once managed by Alfred Dickens, son of Charles Dickens.

Wildlife was wonderfully abundant: red kangaroos, galahs, wedge-tailed eagles, kites, and a lot of emus. We could also see, off in the decision, a building storm. But it was far enough away from us that we didn’t have to worry, at least not yet.

The land around us now is arid and fairly desolate, and yet the number of faces that desolation wears is fascinating. There are different rocks, scrub, terrain, animals, colors. Always something to look at.

About noon, we stopped at the Pack Saddle Roadhouse. This is the only roadhouse between Broken Hill and our destination, Tibooburra. The roadhouse is named for nearby Pack Saddle Hill. There were cold drinks available, plus surprisingly wonderful lunch options, including tuna in satay sauce. Purchases made, we headed to the top of Pack Saddle Hill, where we enjoyed a picnic lunch.

Trip 4: August 11, Part 2

The thing about Broken Hill is that the hill from which the town takes its name is definitely part of the town, not something off in the distance. First stop after lunch was at the Joe Keenan lookout, which offers a splendid panoramic view of the town and the “line of lode,” the massive ore body that made the town and its mines possible. Then on to the Broken Hill City Art Gallery, where I enjoyed the painting but especially liked a sculpture of a tree made of silver. And then we were on the road again, heading back to Silverton. (And passing camels en route.)

As the name suggests, the small, historic town of Silverton has a history of mining silver. This mining history is worth exploring. That said, the thing that draws many visitors is the town’s cinematic history. Hard to find a place that looks so incredibly remote but also has a descent pub and restaurant nearby. The scenery is definitely dramatic. As mentioned previously, Mad Max 2/The Road Warrior was made in the surrounding wilderness, and is certainly the best known of the movies made here, but dozens of films, and TV shows have taken advantage of this setting, from Razorback to Priscilla, Queen of the Desert. However, as much of a Road Warrior fan as I was when it came out, by this time in my life, I’m more excited by the rolling, red countryside and charming historic buildings.

We came across a man with tales to tell and jewelry to sell, and I enjoyed both. He is a metal worker who worked on Road Warrior, helping with special effects and doing welding. But he also is licensed to “deface” Australian currency, carving coins to highlight the design. So I now have an Australian dollar coin that looks like a piece of art, with a loop so I can wear it on a chain when I get home.

Then back to Broken Hill, to visit White’s Mineral Art and Mining Museum. Created by veteran of the mines Kevin “Bushy” White, this wonderful museum offers recreations of the interiors of mines, old and new. White has also created detailed dioramas and a video to share the history of mining in Broken Hill. In addition, it is home to a remarkable art gallery. White creates “paintings” from crushed minerals, using locally mined rocks to create scenes from around Broken Hill and Silverton (pubs, churches, iconic buildings), as well as of mining in the area. Clearly a labor of love, but also a fun and delightful way to witness Broken Hill history. Attached to the museum is Betty’s Doll Cottage, where Kevin’s wife Betty showcases a large collection of dolls and teddy bears (some remarkably fine ones, too). And then, finally, to the mineral collection—locally collected rocks and minerals, some of them for sale! Going home with me are samples of tourmaline, galina/rhodonite, and two forms of gypsum (spar and rose).

Back to camp to pick up extra gas cans to fill up, as we’re going out bush for the next few nights, so we need to take with us whatever we’ll need. We then headed to the West Darling Hotel for a proper pub dinner. Finally, a stop to stock up on food for the next few nights of bush camping. It amused me to note that, as rugged and remote as Broken Hill is, radicchio and arugula are as common as in suburban Chicago, and the amazing array of Asian goodies bordered on being enviable. Then back to camp for a relatively early night.

Bummer: My watch band snapped and I lost the watch. I just changed the battery, too. Well, I guess a timeless place like the outback is as good as any place to be without a watch. And tomorrow, we go farther out.