Trip 4: August 16, Part 2

The terrain keeps changing. Bursts of spinifex, splashes of black soil, golden rocks, black rocks, red rocks, red sand. Suddenly, kangaroos are abundant again. However, while the terrain changes, the sky remains the same: incredibly blue, a blue that is deep and clear. There is no pollution out here. And, of course, since it’s winter, no clouds. Just splendid, open, blue sky.

While it is all interesting, for me, visually, the red sand/dirt is my favorite, especially when highlighted by bursts of silvery blue/green scrub. It gladdens my heart to see it.

Crossed out of Innaminka Reserve (the reserve covers more than 5,000 square miles, so it takes a while to reach the far side) and into Cordillo Downs, a historic outback station. We were again surrounded by rolling, red sand dunes, traveling between them rather than over them. And then back to gibber plains again. (Still on the Cordillo Downs station—when all you have is rocks and sand, you need a lot of land.)

Cordillo Downs was and is the site of a famous woolshed (building where sheep are shorn), a massive building (the world’s largest shearing shed) erected in 1883, made out of local stone (what else?). Though not all stone: the roof was iron. The building is now used for storage, but is kept primarily for its historic importance. The sheep are long gone (since the early 1940s), because so many were killed by dingoes. The switch was made to cattle, and that is what keeps the station going now.

While Cordillo Downs is private property, the owners do not object to visitors visiting the woolshed, and travelers are also allowed to stop (and even camp) along the road or nearby creeks. (There are no services or accommodations for visitors anywhere along this rough road.) So Richard found us a nice creek bed, where we pulled over and stopped for lunch.

On the road again, crossing Sturt’s Stony Desert. No kidding about the “stony.” (Worth noting, there are better roads, but not if you want to see some of the historic sites. Plus, though rugged, this is a shortcut if you’re traveling from Innaminka to Birdsville.)

Passed Providence Creek. This creek has so many channels that, overall, it measures two kilometers wide. Here we saw red mulga growing. This short tree has curly, reddish bark and needle-thin leaves. Richard says it’s not commonly seen.

Then on to Cadelga Outstation (now part of Cordillo Downs). Here, there are only haunting ruins of the one-time homestead, also built of stone. Nearby, a tree-lined waterhole was noisily inhabited by a great number of birds. We took some photos of the ruins and trees, and then we needed to keep on going. We’ll be bush camping tonight, and Richards wants to find a good campsite by 4:00-4:30, well before sunset, so back to the road.

Crossed the border into Queensland. Diamantina Shire. Before long, Richard found the place he had in mind, and we pulled off the road. It was a good site for camping. Flat, even, with a golden dune that is about 15 feet high blocking the wind. Plus we’re fairly near the road, so no chance of getting lost—and no one is going to be driving on this rough, unlighted road at night. Plus. we’re only about half an hour outside of Birdsville. Actually, quite a remarkable spot.

While Nikki and I set up camp, Richard changed the tire again. The patched spot was beginning to bulge. He said that everyone in Innaminka was talking about tire trouble and the “shocking roads”—so he assured us that this is not unlucky, just the way things are. (But why you don’t want to do this without knowing what you’re getting into—and without someone like Richard on hand, to fix things.)

Beautiful sunset, and now the stars are out. With no trees around us to hem in the sky, the sky seems so immense it is almost overwhelming. The whole universe is stars. What a glorious night.

Mmm—Richard just opened an old bottle of port. This is camping at its best.

Trip 4: August 16, Part 1

Up early, as usual. Greeted by galahs, parrots, correllas, and others. Camp quickly taken down and packed (we’re getting good at this). On the road, under the watchful eyes of several kangaroos along the road (morning is good for viewing ‘roos). Headed into Innaminka to refuel and load up on water, and then into the great nothingness on the first leg of our run to Birdsville. We’ll cross the Strzelecki Desert and Sturt’s Stony Desert—hard to imagine what might qualify for the name “stony” in an area that seems to be defined by rocks. We’ll see.

The sign at the edge of town said that the road to Birdsville via Cordillo Downs is open. (It isn’t always. There is a website for checking this and other outback roads, and Richard checked before leaving home, but things can change quickly, so “day of” signs are needed, too.) So with the “okay” from the sign, we crossed the Cooper at the causeway and headed deeper into the outback.

Gidgee trees popped up out of the vast expanse of gibbers around us. Eventually, even the gidgee tress vanished, and we were surrounded by rocks and tough grass. As always, however, even the most modest water course, though dry on the surface, presents us with a wonderful burst of trees and greenery. So the desolation is relieved with some frequency.

To my right: rocks, tough grasses, and cattle. (Apparently, the Japanese have a special fondness for the taste and quality of the meat raised in this area, and Japan is where this cattle will eventually go.) To my left: rocks, in the distance, the greenery of a creek and, rising above the tree tops, the towering red dunes of sand country.

I’m still amazed by the relentless and seemingly endless expanse of gibbers. However, it does seem that the gibbers are getting smaller, and there are even a few bare patches. So not quite as merciless as yesterday.

Then suddenly we were in sand country. We stopped at Patchawarra Bore to take a “classic” photo of a windmill, dam, and cattle (the windmill being the means of pumping water from underground, to fill the dam and provide for the cattle). This area was one of the first places in Australia that gas and petroleum reserves were noted, since gas came up with the water when they first drilled the bore.

Then back to the gibbers. Passed a bore where a bunch of ringers (Australian cowboys, called ringers because they ring the mob, or round up the herd) had set up camp. They were busy tagging calves. Somehow, this just doesn’t seem like the perfect place for raising cattle, but apparently, it works.

Red sand again became more frequent. We passed a creek where the silcrete was clearly visible. (Silcrete is a hardened layer of soil that is rich in silica. Most common in hot, arid areas where silica that has dissolved has plenty of time to dry out and glue together soil grains, forming an extremely hard layer. It is tremendously hard and tends, given enough time, to weather into boulders.) Here, silcrete forms the top layer of the oldest part of this region, and it was clearly visible.

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.