Tramping tales for 10 - 31 August

 

Four nights of power drawn from SKV’s deep cycle batteries proved too much and when George came to connect up Getaway – the batteries were dead!  Fortunately there were numerous campers to call upon and the first readily came with his truck to jump-start SKV. No stopping thereafter and we made our way to Barcaldine. We do not think we have seen as much death and destruction as we saw on the 100km stretch between Longreach and Barcaldine.  George guesstimated between 8-10 corpses for every kilometre covered. Marsupials, black pigs, emus, cats and various birds were all lying on or beside the road. It was very confronting to see all this carnage.  

Homestead Caravan Park- closest to town suited us perfectly. Very reasonable and they gave a senior discount. We stayed for the weekend.  Two loads of washing were put behind us before the day was done and we worked to complete the last blog. Late afternoon, blogging came to a halt when a piano accordion and guitar set up some foot tapping music in the park garden.

 

Halfway through,  Billy tea and Cockies delight was served up by the caravan park.  It went down a treat – so much so we collected their recipe which feeds 30!  Cockies delight? That’s freshly made damper served up with syrup.  YUM! We made pigs of ourselves.

By Sunday evening we needed a good stretch and took a brisk walk through town. We were very taken by Barcaldine. As we have travelled we have noticed a high predominance of hotel fires within the histories of country towns. As we walked part of Oak Street, a most attractive streetscape, we noticed the hotels had all been burnt down in 1909 and rebuilt on the same site. Darkness was falling fast and we decided we needed to see more. Next morning, we upped sticks in the park and left our rig parked out in the wide streets that are so typical of most country towns and hark back to teamster days when wagons, pulled by 14 to 22 bullocks, needed space to turn. We noticed a massive wooden boxlike structure outside the train station and curiously approached it only to be blown away by The Tree of Knowledge.

 

 An exciting memorial, rightfully received heritage honour in 2006 when it was included on the National Heritage List.

In 2006, a historical Ghost Gum was poisoned and never recovered. The lady we spoke to didn’t know if it was deliberate or a toxic build up – sounded very fishy to us. By May Day 2009, the dead tree had been turned into an amazing monument. First the tree had to be carefully excavated and sent for chemical preservation – an Australian first. On its return the full skeletal tree of trunk, branches and root ball became the centrepiece of a mighty wooden structure above the tree from which dangle 3,449 slabs of timber rather like wind chimes creating a low and gently clunking noise. The structure represents the leaves and canopy for the tree gnarled, twisted and full of character. An inspiring story lies behind this self seeded tree in the main street of Barcaldine. Residents first referred to it as the Alleluia Tree, thanks to the Salvation Army gathering in its shade, way back when. But its legacy was to be its involvement with the Shearer’s Strike from 1891 when it came to symbolise an important place and time in shaping Australia’s Political identity and gave voice to the common man. Over years, this Eucalyptus papuana remained steadfast; surviving the harsh weather of the Outback and, with the help of man survived infestations - two from termites and one of insects. In a pamphlet on the Tree that became a Legend the comment is made that “while it was the hands of man that prolonged its life, it was also the hands of man that ended it - an unknown environmental vandal!”  We are very impressed that effort was made to produce something so lasting.

We hurried on to the Australian Workers Heritage Centre which we found sited in an old wooden structured school. This made for a most interesting layout along with other relevant historic buildings especially the one teacher school, the railway station and a Police watch house relocated here. Each and every exhibit within the large complex stood testimony to the workers who helped make and continue to make this country. The massive tent structure (beginning to show wear and tear) we’d noticed standing out amongst the town buildings the previous evening, turned out to be part of the exhibition. We discovered it had originally been used in the Australian Bicentennial celebrations. Inside we learned more of the Shearers Strike and the 15 men taken to court not to mention a recreated section of St Helena Prison and an isolation cell. Thirteen Shearers were sentenced to 3 years at St Helena and IF they had been midgets they’d have been a bit more comfortable! The clock marched on and we had to speed up after two hours – we could easily have spent more time especially in the section where tribute was paid to working women. We also saw the ‘Young Un” – the only direct descendant of The Tree of Knowledge before we departed for Blackall. Once again there was a high percentage of wildlife carnage on a road in desperate need of a complete re-surfacing. We bounced along being thrown left and right along the heavily patched road which was not conducive to speeding and we could only think the high loss of wildlife was due in part to the more palatable grass close to the road.  Even cattle in an overgrazed paddock strained their necks through the fencing to reach the grass outside.  Further on, we came across a mass of cattle well off the road with stockmen resting up beside a ute and a quad bike. We bemoaned the fact that having travelled so far in cattle country this was to be our only encounter with stock movement.

We stopped at the Blackall Caravan Park. We’d seen many Ads for this park. Set back from the main road, we entered looking forward to all it offered. Billy tea and scones all day; damper making demos, whip cracking and a Golden Guitar 2013 country singer for entertainment each evening. Even Camp Oven dinners – if you book! We thoroughly enjoy the winter entertainment laid on in many Outback caravan parks for the passing crowds. Turned out much of the entertainment had ended before time and we soon became very hemmed in plus there were water issues. Yet again, we were reminded of another piece in Tim Winton’s book Dirt Music where grey nomads are called “well heeled refugees”. Further, it says “some of them do the whole trip. North, then across the top of the Territory, Queensland to drive south and come back across the Nullarbor. The big circle. Then they start again. I blame Superannuation. They clog up the road.”  There is a lot of truth in this and we have to smile. Many escape the winters of the south and the northern roads teem with caravans...

Shearer Strike history stretches from Winton to Blackall and yet we have barely seen any sheep. Lea noticed a statue of a shearer and sheep. It was Jackie Howe. She recalled reading about him at the Stockman’s Hall of Fame not only for his record holding shearing feats but notable shirt, fashioned for him by his dressmaking wife that gave rise to a more commercial Jackie Howe singlet!

 

 

Jackie Howe’s ultimate 1892 blade shearing record of 321 sheep shorn in 7 hours 40 minutes has never been broken.            

Howe was also the only shearer to have ever set a blade and machine shearing record in the same year. And, it was the first shed he’d ever had to use the new, hot and difficult to handle machine. When Howe retired from the back breaking job of shearing aged 39, he bought the Universal Hotel in Blackall and very appropriately the Blackall and Howe history and display was on the site of the old hotel behind a replica facade although it is now a garden and Information centre.  We were disappointed to find no lights on and the information man busy on the phone. We didn’t want to hang around and moved on to the Memorial Park. There, we found a most interesting statue to Lt. Edgar Towner a Blackall boy awarded the Victoria Cross for most conspicuous bravery during the Second World War and we thoroughly enjoyed reading his story.

We found road works in progress in many sections between Blackall and Charleville which was most encouraging even though it slowed us down on a hot day.  In Tambo we stopped to see the famous Tambo teddies and then decided to continue on down the road and thank goodness we did. 

 

Two ringers haring up and down the stock track keeping the horde of cattle stretching a good kilometre or more off the road. So obliging too!

Made our day!  Modern stockmen use 4WD, motor bikes and quads. Waiting much further down the track we passed a truck and caravan waiting off the road and the head stockman sat in its shade reading. He gave us a friendly wave as we slowed to inspect! 

In Augathella, the caravan park looked hot and dusty. The price put us right off so we found a pleasant park down the main street of town beside an embankment protecting the town from floodwaters of the Warrego River.  Although we’d liked to have stayed there, in Camps 6 it appeared to be a day area only. We moved on to Charleville virtually following the Warrego River.

 Charleville Bush Camp had caught Paula’s eye way back while browsing through brochures -   No smokers and no children...  We decided to give it a go and we were so glad we did. This new park met all the P’s - price, position and perfect ablution block – very different to the run of the mill; these were like you’d find in a private home!  A central fire-pit encourages guests to gather around even borrow a camp oven (variety of sizes available) and cook ar meal there.  No sooner settled; with our phone booking for Bilbies made for the following night, we dashed off with chairs to hear the 4.30 talk. Graeme (the owner) was speaking about Corners, Deserts and the Eyre Basin. It was very stimulating. Not only did it increase our geography knowledge it developed a new goal for us: Visit State Corners! We found ourselves regretful of bypassing Haddon Corner! As interesting as the talk was, it was basically a promotional talk for Graeme’s Tagalong Tours under the trade name TRAVEL WEST. He does 7 day outings into the Simpson and Channel Country for $2470 per head plus own vehicle and fuel costs; his knowledge on the area incomparable though. Our fuel for that particular leg was $700 and we probably didn’t push as much into a day as he does

The only other thing that caught our eye in Charleville besides wanting to see bilbies was the Charleville “Bugle.” It is well known that “desperate times call for desperate measures” … thus in 1902 a renowned meteorologist by the name of Clement Wragge arrived in Charleville to end what was then the longest running drought in Queensland’s history.  His proposed solution was to use six massive vortex cannons which had been developed by an Austrian scientist, Albert Steiger, to dispel hail bearing clouds in Europe. Wragge intended to await the arrival of suitable clouds then fire rain producing gas into the atmosphere above the town and fully expected the rapidly rising charges from the guns to force the clouds to release their rain.

The experiment failed but at least the guns are on display to amuse!   

 

Charleville Bugles – the Steiger rain making vortex guns.  

Charleville is home to a captive breeding programme of the endangered and genetically distinct Queensland population of Bilby. Only a small pocket is to be found out in the wild of the Diamantina and we hadn’t seen any trace there. That evening we eagerly awaited entry into the Queensland Parks and Wildlife enclosure to learn the Bilby story only to receive a very disappointing presentation. And, the bilbies were most reluctant to come out. Finally one appeared and skittered around under very low and gloomy red light. With so many people pressed around the boundary fence, it was even harder to view and we departed feeling very let down. Four showings a week and bookings are essential. The numbers were there but the passion befitting the two men whose work led to saving Bilby numbers was missing. We’d have done better simply buying the ABC Australian Story video of Peter McRae and Frank Manthey. Together, these two men have worked hard to provide their captive breeding programme with a suitably safe release area in the Currawinga National Park. The Bilby Easter appeal launched in 1999 to raise money to build a predator- proof fence continues to help with necessary funding.  Just as well as we heard floods damaged the fence and cats got in.

Not much to show for the evening but at least our entrance fee supports the cause!

Busy road lay ahead with halts for road workings. All part of the Nation Building Stimulus Package brought in by the Labor Government that gets so little press and yet we see evidence of this positive programme where ever we go. Like anything its the squeaky wheel that gets the most attention! Eventually we arrived on the edge of Mitchell and had lunch at Neil Turner Weir.  A very pleasant stop with plenty of caravans camped along the edge.  George was keen to stay but his wife thought a swim in Mitchell’s Artesian Spa before continuing on to another ticked site in the Camps 6 book – Amby Hotel with power was preferable.

Our quick dip proved expensive as we had to buy a day pass!  Still, it was lovely once you got used to the 40 degree heat and Lea received a good neck massage under this spout of water.

Less than an hour later as we prepared to leave, the pool was filling fast with grey nomads from the caravan park a short walk away. South Australians raved about Major Mitchell Park  but when we took a look, best sites along the banks of Maranoa River were taken and what were available were close to the busy highway and didn’t catch our fancy.  We moved on to Amby only to find it  looked dreadful with a hand written notice saying: No Camping! How the site ever received a tick of approval for any reason, whether appeal, position, vista or facilities above average beats us... We moved on to Muckadilla and parked ourselves beside the little Community Park with a few rigs.  As evening fell, cold air began creeping into the caravan and temperatures dropped fast.  We ended up enduring the coldest night thus far; even the water in Getaway’s tanks froze.  Lea refused to get out of bed until the sun was well up – and once she was all rugged up for next leg to Roma she had to start stripping off layers as it warmed up so fast.

 

 

 

  

Wowee! Horse and motor bike, dust, and cattle – once again we were thrilled by droving.

Roma is considered the ‘Gateway to the Outback’ and virtually pioneered Australian oil and gas explorations resulting in its centrepiece to the tourist industry ‘The Big Rig’. We were more interested in the Cattle Sales as Roma is reputedly the biggest in the country. Having seen the large mob of cattle being driven in its direction we were saddened to learn that sales only take place Tuesdays and Thursdays. However, we did spot a Woolworths and we were delighted to stock up on four seeds bread after enduring such awful bread for a long time. Adding to this pleasure was finding we were in Memorial Avenue with its 93 lovely old bottle trees planted in the 1920’s to the memory of Roma soldiers who lost their lives in the First World War.  Since the town of Blackall we have seen many bottle trees as we passed through these country towns. This line with big memorial stones giving name and dates were particularly striking; although we suspect some have fallen foul over years and been replaced as they didn’t have the girth!

The caravan parks looked crowded out by dongas... We soon learnt that Roma has been overrun by the Gas Industry and prices have risen to meet their demands. We could not wait for Tuesday Stock sales as Lea has a dental appointment in Toowoomba and looking around the busy town with its industry had no appeal.  We moved on to a spot outside Yuleba. 

 Judds Lagoon, now this was a place deserving of a tick of approval and we enjoyed a good night in this tranquil place.

A Friday, so by late evening quite a few campers had arrived and settled in for the weekend. Two geese frequently popped their heads in our doorway. One had a friendly manner the other tried scare tactics in hopes of scraps of food. We obliged, as we enjoy watching any feathered or furred creature on our doorstep. Next day, our 45^th wedding anniversary, we reluctantly left Judd’s Lagoon and moved on to Chinchilla as we needed power to recharge our computers and Lea wanted electricity to cook a celebration dinner. All along the Warrego Highway we spotted Rig Numbers to many side roads and soon realised just how much coal seam gas exploration is taking place out here. The Road was hectic and driving unpleasant.

Chinchilla was far from the little country town of ‘melon’ and Cactoblastis fame that we’d expected to find. Instead it appeared highly industrialised from our moment of entry.  The Information Centre confirmed that Gas fly-in/fly-out employees have changed the face of Chinchilla and many old time residents do not recognise their home town any more. Caravan parks have given priority to the Gas industry and tourists squeeze in for a price. It was suggested we go out to Chinchilla Weir, ten kms west out of town with power available. The power poles were like Maypoles with extension cords running back to caravans creating tight circles. We hummed and hawed looking at possible options before deciding it wasn’t for us.  Looking at the route ahead we decided to take the road less travelled and set off east on the road to Wandai leaving the Western Downs for the Darling Downs once we turned southwards for Jandowae. This little place boasted a peaceful and shady caravan park. Although the road was narrow and uneven in many places it was much quieter with a surprisingly amount of water contained in wetlands on either side amidst large spreads of crop land. Carpets of ground spreading purple flowers grew at the edge of the tar and depressions were filled with fine yellow flowers – the first signs of spring.

Our high hopes for Jandowae were dashed as we drew up outside the caravan park.  It was full! Taken over by the Oil Company and full of new static vans...

We stopped for lunch in the shade of a Grain Storage facility and took another look at the map.  We could only return to the Warrego Highway at Dalby  on we went past green fields of barley and chickpeas as well as old cotton fields with cotton bolls ‘snowed up’ along the roadside. Dalby Caravan Park was overbusy and we had no alternative than stick to the road and reach Jondaryan. That put us well ahead of our schedule as we’d expected to pull in there on the 19^th August- two days later.  After a long day travelling we were only too glad to reach a park we have enjoyed in the past. This is a pretty rural park attached to the historic Jondaryan Woolshed. We took up a good site with a vista of rolling green hills, sheep and horses and plenty of corellas chattering in the trees along the creek. Rain clouds had gathered. Although folk didn’t expect a drop, a good downpour occurred. Next morning a strange sound woke us – sounded like wheels but the thick mist rolling around outside blocked any vision.  

 

The strange early morning sounds belonged to two large Clydesdale horses pulling a creaky wagon load of tourists at regular intervals around the camp ground past our doorway.

Two days left in the long six week plus countdown to reaching a dentist. An appointment made by Les Howman to have the vertical crack in Lea’s front tooth attended to before it broke off. Cousin Tim and Les suggested we park our caravan on their verge and take up one of the bedrooms in their beautiful new home. However, “Pamusoro” sits on atop the steepest of bluffs. We drove into Toowoomba on the Sunday afternoon to check it out and found the 20% incline with sharp bends to the top of their superb lookout too much to contemplate. Very off putting too, is the busy Dalby/Toowoomba road with many ‘black spot’ zones.  Jondaryan is midway which makes us dislike travelling back and forth regularly. We planned to look for a more sociably suitable Caravan Park in another direction, closer to Toowoomba, after the dentist’s verdict.   

All went well at the dentist and the job was done and dusted immediately - a big measure of relief. In a search for other possible sites we took the New England and Gore Highways and after something of a wild goose chase returned across Darling Downs farming back roads  to Jondaryan with a preference to ‘stay put’ until the end of the month. For all the time we have spent in Jondaryan we had the most glorious sunsets every night- each different, thanks to cloud formations. No wonder we spent two weeks here.

Views from Getaway and our surrounds- idyllic, including the farm sounds and smells.

In our caravan we now have a plastic bottle, chopped off towards the top and looking like a fancy cut glass vase holding pincushion proteas. This lovely touch is a warm reminder of Jane and Jonathan Palmer’s visit with their eldest daughter Christine. Jane’s parent’s Frank and Jean Junor were very close friends of ours from Kariba onwards until their passing.  Jean died last year while we were in Mozambique. It was good to catch up on the Junor family news – the four daughters widely spread across the world like our children.    

   

Taking a walk along Oaky Creek with Jonathan, Jane and Christine Palmer.

 With elections coming up on the 7^th September and far from home we needed to get our compulsory vote completed in Toowoomba. This gave us a chance to catch up with Cousin Sarah as we hadn’t seen her in seven years. On the journey into the city we checked out a Rest Area for our last two nights after leaving Jondaryan – despite being in our Camp 6 Book we found it displayed no camping signs.  We have enjoyed walking far and wide in this cattle and sheep farming area and during one regular walk we saw a homestead bedecked with flags and advertising its first ‘on site Cattle Sale’ at noon on the 30 August.  Having missed the largest cattle sale in the country held in Roma, we went on the day. We spent a hot hour waiting for something to happen (caused by two different starting times in adverts)

 

Another hour later, too many bulls had been passed over. Competition for bulls purchased was not existent and the auctioneer’s patter became laborious... Enough for us!

 

 

We returned to out site to see the Clydesdale horses pulling the wagon on down to the creek with a bride and her retinue aboard. A wedding reception to follow in the shearing shed. The life of the champion shearer, Jackie Howe has followed us here - in the coming week this place will crowd out in readiness for the Golden Shears competition in Jackie Howe's memory. 

It is time to move on and we have decided to end August by taking the farming back roads across the Darling Downs until we reached the New England Highway and can find a suitable camp in the direction of Warwick. Not too far, as we have been invited to brunch with the Howman family at ‘Pamusoro’ on the first day of spring.  September is to be full of family time!

 

 

 

PEREGRINATIONS WITH PAULA

23 July - 9 August

From Pelican Caravan Park well situated in the main street of Winton, in Central Western Queensland we quietly prepared for Paula Baxter’s arrival on the Greyhound bus after her 24 hour stint on the road from the Gold Coast. We tried hard not to ‘look around’ too much. On our first evening we took a walk to the cemetery to look back on history via the tombstones.

 En route our attention was captured by a roof of white Corellas! The noise of swirling wings when they took off was incredible.

A memorial stone to Willie Mar and son had us off to find Willie Mar’s Chinese market garden and shop the second evening. Throughout Northern Queensland thriving market gardens were to be found on pastoral stations and towns thanks to the perseverance and gardening practices of the Chinese men. The mango trees we’d camped under as we journeyed down Cape Peninsula were introduced by these hardworking men who settled throughout the region. On the outskirts of Winton and the flood plains of the Western River Willie Mar’s garden is undergoing preservation. Willie returned to China twice in his life time and during his extended second visit his only son was born. Years down the line the twenty year old Willie² arrived to help his virtually unknown father in Winton; picking up his first words of English as he helped his father in the garden and shop until the old man’s time on earth ended. Willie² never married and when he died the business died with him. Between father and son, they provided Winton with fresh fruit and veggies for 70 years. They were obviously held in high esteem as besides memorial stones to the two Willies we found a vegetable and herb garden to their memory at the North Gregory Hotel.   

Around the age of ten, Lea’s childhood friend, Patricia Marshall, had a relative from Australia come visit Africa. Aunt Ivy as we all called her, kept us enthralled with marsupial stories and taught us to sing Waltzing Matilda. So began Lea’s passion for Australian fauna, little realising she would, one day, end up Australian. All these decades on, we were finally in Winton, the place where A.B. Paterson, better known as Banjo Paterson wrote Waltzing Matilda, virtually the second National anthem of Australia - back in 1895. In April that year, the first public performance of this song steeped in the Aussie psyche was performed in Winton’s North Gregory Hotel.

It seemed all the more appropriate to mark Paula’s arrival in Winton with a photo beside the A.B. Paterson memorial to his song.

Followed up with ‘happy hour’ at the North Gregory Hotel listening to Just Helen sing and  relate the story of the origins of Waltzing Matilda.

We were to learn Christina Macpherson played a central part in the song’s history by carrying a well known tune in her head she’d heard in Warrnambool back to Winton. AB Paterson came to stay with the Macpherson family at Dagworth Station outside of Winton and it was here, their daughter happened to play the tune by ear to Banjo Paterson. Bob Macpherson introduced Banjo to the ‘goings on’ and gossip of area and in so doing provided the material for the immortal words of Waltzing Matilda. Especially interesting to us – ‘waltzing’ is not the dance but derived from the German term auf der waltz- which meant to travel while learning a trade. While Matilda referred to female camp followers who accompanied soldiers during the Thirty Years War in Europe!  So the phrase waltzing Matilda has come to mean to travel from place to place in search of work with all one’s belongings. We are modern day waltzers!  Over the years three modified versions have arisen and Helen performed them all as we sipped a chilled one. More interesting trivia regarding this famous song...Churchill pronounced it “one of the finest songs in the world” after he played it on a gramophone (while singing along lustily) to Sir Robert Menzies and General de Gaulle; years later, Slim Dusty’s rendition of the song was beamed back to earth from space by an Australian astronaut. 

 In a park behind the North Gregory Hotel we found Arno’s Wall. The concrete and rock construction, studded with everything imaginable, reaches two metres high and extends over seventy metres...

It is all too easy to piece together information and come to the wrong conclusion! We pulled out of Pelican Caravan Park and headed for Lark Quarry, the dinosaur track way 110kms SW of Winton on a gravel road with the firm intention of dropping off Getaway at Carisbrooke Station about halfway down the track. While rattling along very noisily, Lea picked up the pamphlet on Carisbrook Station to ascertain the landmarks for the station only to read station stays were by appointment only! Thinking we were only a ‘cupla kms’ away, George pulled off the road to use the Sat-phone. Our plans began unravelling - Answering machine. As we continued along the road we realised we didn’t even have the positioning right. Carisbrook Station was on the far side of a loop road! Nowhere close to us. We were forced to laugh off a visit to this working station set amongst spectacular mesa country with its American piece of history... Back in 1942, The Swoose, a B-17 Flying Fortress carrying Lyndon B Johnson (yet another future USA President!) was forced to land after becoming ‘lost’, short on fuel and fading light, during a flight from Darwin to Melbourne. Those on board ended up spending a night at the North Gregory Hotel despite the distance between Winton and Carisbrook Station. With time against us on a road not particularly kind to caravans, we unhitched Getaway off the road and left. In a land of emptiness and few landmarks we had to take precautions we’d find our ‘van again.

Entry to the Track way in the purpose built environmentally climate controlled preservation complex for 3300 fossilised dinosaur footprints was only by guided tours, taking place at 10, 12 and 2 o’clock daily. 

Hundreds of Coelurosaurs and Ornithopods (the size of chickens and emus respectively) fled along a muddy creek shore to escape the jaws of a Carnosaur and the moment was captured forever in fossil history as a ‘dinosaur stampede’! This was to inspire Spielberg’s movie ‘Jurassic Park’.  Vern, a dedicated volunteer, passionate about the paleontological history and the story behind the ‘find’ has been coming up here from interstate for the past seven years to guide folk through Lark Quarry. He had interesting stories of chance meetings made through his work. He encouraged all, heading to Boulia, to visit Stone Cottage. A chilly wind pushed us hurriedly through the interpretive walk surrounding the building and we ended up huddling inside SKV for our delayed picnic lunch. We returned to hitch up Getaway and spent the night bush camping beside Mistake Creek close to the entrance to Bladensburg National Park. It was a beautiful spot other than there was no privacy for ‘parking a pint’ out in the very open, flat grasslands surrounds away from the creek. During the 1890’s this creek supported nine Chinese market gardens. Mistake Creek was also the scene of a young boy’s murder but no ghost bothered us. 

 Next morning we took the Route of the River Gums through Bladensburg National Park, just a short way out of Winton. When this area was settled in the late 19^th century, the low rainfall made it ideal for sheep. Winton has links to the Great Shearers Strike with 500 shearers camped on Surprise Creek during the strikes of 1891 and 94. It was not much further on from Mistake Creek where we had spent the night. We were fast gaining a new understanding of the landscape. Driving to Winton from The Lynd and staring across the endless grey, grassy plains we’d had no idea we were looking at a resource highly sought after by drovers. It was only at the Information Centre that we saw a map of the Winton surrounds and, Mitchell Grass Downs jumped out. Many months back George had read Tom Cole’s book Hell West and Crooked, an autobiographical account of his life. It had covered some of Queensland’s Outback and George recalled the significance attributed to Mitchell Grass by cattlemen. He suggested Lea start reading it – which she did while we travelled our loop with Paula and it made early outback life all the more meaningful.

Travelling through the Bladensburg NP gave us our first real insight into what Outback Queensland is all about. Under its endlessly blue sky, it is possibly best described as a landscape dominated by ancient sediments; the longest of long views imaginable; vast plains that seemingly stretch from one horizon to the other; the occasional craggy escarpment; tracts of stunted vegetation; and because of the flatness of the land, rivers that flow, albeit very infrequently, via a multitude of minor channels and creeks hence the name Channel Country.

Reality was a countryside containing a rich, oft repeated tapestry of distinct habitats. Mitchell grass downs characterised by dark clay soils (cracking clays) form the basis of the region’s grazing industry. Glistening in the sunlight are equally vast gibber flats, each carpeted in small, wind polished reddish-black pebbles (ironstone) and huge clay pans with surfaces so barren, hard and smooth they shimmer like lakes during the heat of the day. Elsewhere, the occasional gully, identified by thin ribbons of river gums and coolibah trees break the sameness. As do the flat topped mesas, plateaus and residual sandstone ranges - the “jump-up country”- that loom far away in the distance. We constantly felt dwarfed by the sheer immensity of our environs.

We were seeing Channel Country after no rain had fallen for two years, the advent of another drought no doubt. However, given the descriptions and photos we have seen of the countryside after rain, and the 2009 flood event in particular – we’ll just have to come back again to witness the transformation that occurs. By the sound of things it is unbelievable.  

Skull Hole was a most picturesque area and our favourite in the park. During the wet season it is filled by waterfalls and even sadder, a widespread massacre of aborigines climaxed in this beautiful spot.

We returned to Winton in time for lunch and took up residence in Matilda Country Caravan Park which we had pre-booked back in Mareeba fearing we wouldn’t have a site for the Camel Races. Once we were comfortably settled in we drove out on the Longreach road some 24kms to visit The Age of Dinosaur Museum.

 From the escarpment, a view looking back to Winton over the flat grasslands. Meeting ‘Banjo’ a lifelike replica of Australia’s most significant and complete carnivorous dinosaur.

Time was against us and the price to enter the dinosaur laboratory too much to consider.  However, the setting for the museum was well worth the journey and we were blown away by the view from the cafe out front.

 We ended up taking the walking track out across the mesa and down into the valley thoroughly enjoying the rocky crevasses and views.

A short block away from our caravan park was the Musical Fence. This is a public instrument that achieved legendary status when Grammy Award winning Australian singer-songwriter Gotye used the sound of the fence as the base line to create his own rhythmic masterpiece in his song “Eyes Wide Open”. The Fence was designed some ten years ago by composer Graeme Leak and we certainly wished we could have listened to a musical performance by professional out here.  

As evening fell we arrived to find the last visitors leaving. With the place to ourselves we were able to make as much uninhibited music- oops noise, as we liked trying out instruments.

George had decided he knew more than enough about Banjo Paterson’s song and didn’t need to visit ‘The Waltzing Matilda Centre’. Lea and Paula were not prepared to miss anything... and they found themselves totally absorbed for more than three hours- not the allotted two the Centre suggested so George ended up with a long wait out in SKV!  After dinner that night we trotted along to the caravan park’s Banjo Shed to attend their resident Bush Poets Mel and Susie’s show.  We’d seen plenty of cheeky photos around the ablution block advertising their evening shows and the Honours Board for National Bush Poetry Awards – both their names were up there.

‘Poetry is older than civilisation. It’s better than acting or speech making. Catch ideas anywhere and the results are magical and catch the innermost emotions in a few well chosen words to make men laugh or love or weep or fight’

Melanie Hall (born in Boulia) and Susan Carcary are National Champions and judges travelling around the country in a bus, regularly spending the winter season in this caravan park busking.  They were excellent – and we enjoyed every minute of their performances with tears and laughter.

Camel racing is part of the outback psyche and on seeing the Camel Festival would be on in July we determinedly set about ensuring we were in a town for one. Winton’s date suited us best. When the day dawned a chilly wind hurtled across the empty plains and the thought of subjecting ourselves to that for a day put us off. We decided an afternoon would be quite enough and it was. An ambulance was required after final race The Camel Cup and this led to delays in other strange entertainment lined up, we were curious about like Tag the Camel, Mutton Busting and Barrel Race. Eventually we managed sightings of individuals trying to tag a camel and kids riding sheep that tended to collapsed under their weight. Crowding around the tiny arena in the force of the wind to watch outback ‘sport’ wasn’t fun.

A truly Outback event is the annual camel race circuit and we attended in Winton.

Pulling out of Winton next day we headed westwards to Boulia across the braided channels of the Western River, the scrubby rolling grass downs, the gibber plains and blue domed sky emphasising the emptiness. Worthy of note was prickly acacia (A. nilotica), a plant we knew well from South Africa, had spread rapidly along drainage lines. The plant had been deliberately introduced at some stage in the past by well-meaning government departments and graziers in an attempt to create shade and fodder on the open Mitchell grass downs. However, its introduction has been so detrimental to the area that pastoralists are now working to control its spread and species such as Karoo thorn (A. karoo), another invasive species from Africa, is regarded as a class 1 pest plant under Queensland legislation. Penalties of up to $80 000 apply!

Time and time again we felt as if we were in a 360’ giant fish bowl as the land stretched to the horizon unobstructed. Other times it was if we were on a saucer that curled up to mesa on the horizon. Soon after Poddy Creek the road cut a pass through John Hills Range and entered a crater-like surround as we crossed the wide open basin before exiting and coming upon Middleton further down the drag. Way out in the middle of nowhere we found one of the nine changing stations on this Cobb & Co route still in existence – the historic Middleton Hotel with a dilapidated Cobb and Co coach taking a hammering from the elements out front and the loneliest public phone booth stuck well out on the east side. Opposite the hotel, just off the main drag was a dust bowl made even worse by a young girl on her quad kicking up a storm of red as she timed herself around a set of drums on the other side of the stock railing; a black kelpie in hot pursuit. Despite it all, we took up this free camping spot in Outback style, courtesy of the hotel to encourage travellers to stop, use their toilet facilities and obviously down a beer to wash the dust away.  Difficult to comprehend that the often dry, low creek beds between Winton and Middleton become vast floodplains covering the land around us with shallow muddy water spanning kilometres in width, when a dump of rain happens.   

     Middleton

Paula had recently read about a Cobb and Co re-enactment having taken place along this route early in the 2000’s with the Ball, taking place in Middleton. We could only surmise the rather appealing old shed had provided the venue for the Ball with participants wearing appropriate dress for the era as the hotel hardly had space.

No we hadn’t had anything to drink... but Paula and Lea definitely had to blink a couple of times to ensure they were seeing correctly, when out of the blue came a black pig trotting imperturbably across the highway, past them and onwards to check out our rig.

Charlotte owned the hotel and probably thought she was a dog amongst the many canines. We wondered if her mother had been a victim of all the feral pig hunting that takes place in Queensland. 

In time, a good few caravans stopped overnight and conversations on the verandah over beers took place. One couple mentioned Diamantina National Park and sowed a new seed in our heads. The following day we had the much talked of Lilleyvale Hills to look forward to and they certainly came up to scratch. We spent a good while walking up to the Cawnpore Lookout and scrambling even further along the range onto the top of a mesa to appreciate the full majesty and beauty of our surrounds.

 The wonderful jump-ups of Lilleyvale! Scenically the drive from Winton to Boulia was remarkable with its long views and the ever changing nature of the plains.

Not much left of the Min Min Hotel built in 1880 and burned down in 1920. This was the scene of the first reported sighting of Min Min lights we were to hear more about in Boulia. We continued on the road taking a coffee break at the next rest area, the old site of the 7^th Cobb & Co station stop with remnants of the Hamilton Hotel. This rest area would also make a fine overnight camp. We were now into the Georgina catchment, as the braided Hamilton River nearby feeds into to it.

Our site in the Boulia Caravan Park was alongside the Burke River (Explorers Wills and Burke collected water here).Our side of the bridge was a delightful visage with a few large ponds of water. The other side was far from inviting - rocky and dry. Too hot to walk, we drove into town and at the visitors centre picked up a combined ticket for the Stone House Museum and Min Min Encounter. The museum was open afternoons only and mindful of time we dashed to the Stone House, amazed by the amount of feathers scattered in yards and along the roadsides. The funeral of Dinosaur Dick took place three weeks ago so we knew we’d not have the Curator of the Stone House Museum. Dick Suter had been responsible for collecting and putting together one of the best Marine Reptile Fossil collections in outback Australia  and as mentioned previously- Vern, our Lark Quarry Guide had  been concerned that this fantastic collection would now gather dust as the Boulia Council did little to advertise. He’d entreated folk going to Boulia, to visit. Perhaps he was worrying needlessly as we found Kel – not only a long time Boulia resident; she grew up in town. Thank goodness we didn’t turn down her offer to show us around as she was an absolute gem and made our visit so worthwhile as she showed us round the 1888 stone house; built by the storekeeper James Edward Jones and remained in the Jones family until the 1970’s. The cellar where mothers took their babes for survival from the fierce Boulia heat that sits in the high 40’s and 50’c day after day with regularity in summer or the thick red dust storms that sweep over the countryside. It was unbelievable to hear yet a sense of reality was around us.  We were intrigued by the early Bough or Charcoal cooler and the machine for corrugating iron!

Stone House

The late Dick Suter arrived in the Boulia area in the early 1950’s to work on pastoral stations. Over years, his body clocked up a pounding from horse riding accidents and motor bike busters yet he reckoned his forays out into the geological remnants of an ancient inland sea Boulia is situated upon became his Biggest Buster!  An annual fossil collecting trip in 2007 with his mate Tom Hurley had successfully located a number of ichthyosaur sites with a few kronosarus bones, a rare swordfish skull and some fossil material from turtles and ancient fish. Then they stumbled upon a large and unusual fossil bone – a type of bone neither had seen before. The fun started when they began trying to identify it- upon digging the specimen out of the creek bed different thoughts flowed through from a skull to a pterosaur and even bigger as more of the material came to light suggesting it may be larger than the Texas Quetzocoatlus,a massive pterosaur.  Months were to pass waiting for a scientist from Queensland Museum to arrive. In frustration, to identify this amazing find, Dinosaur Dick began painstakingly removing rock from the bone. He was soon to realise this was no pterosaur limb either ... It was the most complete sauropod skull in the world or so he thought! Further inspections led to another misidentification. Not a skull but a toe bone belonging to the world’s largest known dinosaur. After changing his mind so often - Scott Hocknull from QLD Museum finally persuaded Dick it was the full vertebrae of a sauropod. Finally, when it was all done and dusted and crated up in readiness for the museum this passionate Fossil Man died... The    simple museum in the back yard of Stone House holds some of the best fossil specimens in the world. An outstanding accomplishment to the memory of Dinosaur Dick, son of an Australian lion tamer!

Diamantina National Park, just named one of Australia’s Top Ten, beckoned. A snap decision to leave Getaway beside the Burke River in Boulia, we rapidly packed for a night away and returned along the Min Min Byway as far as the Springvale Station turn off. Travelling to somewhere that looked like going nowhere for some 183km, it was very easy to feel lost and very alone out here in this remote area.  The park, a former pastoral property known as Diamantina Lakes has had various owners since 1875. One among them was Sir Sydney Kidman who added it to his pastoral empire in 1909. As we will be travelling through much of his empire in days to come it seems appropriate to briefly add a little of SK’s history. In 1870, aged 13 years, SK left home in Adelaide on an old horse and went on to become one of the world’s great horse dealers and The Cattle King of Australia. By 1910 his kingdom stretched from the Gulf of Carpentaria to his home base in Kapunda in South Australia. His strategic buying of properties enabled him to move stock away from drought affected land to better areas and markets giving himself the resilience and flexibility required to cope with the harsh realities of the Channel Country. His good fortune was legendary - “the luck of Kidman’ became a common expression in the Outback.

Sir Sydney Kidman’s cattle Empire

 

We camped by the billabong under the shade of a Coolibah tree in Hunters Gorge.

Once settled we took off for the Park Headquarters, crossing the many braids of the relatively dry but mighty Diamantina River for the first time. We’d previously crossed it much further north and closer to its source. The old Diamantina Homestead houses the Park’s Information Centre amongst the Station buildings; once one of the biggest pastoral holdings in the far West carrying 12,000 head of cattle. It was full of interesting history of the area, its fauna and flora. No ranger to be seen but on a job schedule board we saw cat-trapping for the day. Thereafter, we took a bush track up to Janet’s Leap Lookout up on the Hamilton Range looking across to the Goyder Range and together forming the Diamantina Gates where the mighty Diamantina River squeezes between. Later we were intrigued to see the lookout was named for Janet Holmes A’Court. No reasons given for her need to leap? 

Come evening we walked the margins of the billabong our camp site we overlooked, gazing at the cracks in the clayey substrate where snakes and mice seek refuge during dry spells.

Oops! ‘Mud lark Paula’  thought to check the water temperature, forgetting cracking clays may look very solid, but beneath the thin loamy crust is soft, black, sticky mud!

After the initial fright of seeing Paula down on the ground, Lea’s merriment overwhelmed her reiterating George’s belief that she laughs at others misfortune... Sorry Paula! In retaliation  for the mirth we suffered in the tent that night.  Lea had forgotten to bring a fitted bottom sheet for the blow up mattress. Our flannel sheet had to be laid first and thus the size of the bed cover proved most inadequate in size for the temperature plummet occurring in the early hours of morning. Considered good for fortitude, we hadn’t brought tea or coffee therefore there was no warming cuppa to look forward to at dawn. In not quite desperation, we ended up having a cup of soup for breakfast...

Having left the 157 km Warracoota self–guided driving tour through the rest of the Park so as to do it all, before returning to Boulia via Coorabulka Station, we hit the road..  For the most part we could be forgiven thinking we were visiting a cattle station rather than a National Park which was disappointing; especially as cattle are hardly conducive to the survival of a number of vulnerable and endangered species finding refuge in the park. By the Parks own admission Bilbies are one such species that are adversely affected. We had so hoped to see a Bilby but knew we had little hope of seeing the other vulnerable and tiny mammal Kowari or two ground dwelling birds- the plains Wanderer and elusive ground parrot. As for the incredible birdlife, Diamantina is noted for... With the exception of pelicans drifting on the billabong at Hunters Gorge we saw very little of real interest. Perhaps this was due to ‘timing’ and the advent of another drought.  

Success! We finally had good sightings of Red Kangaroo bounding over the road or out on the gibber plains and grasslands. Never in a mob, just in twos and one family group of three!

In 1995 on our first visit to Australia, Leecy and John took us to visit Stuart and Helen Haines on their property in Orange, NSW. It was there we first saw a mob of Red Kangaroo clear the sheep fence with ease. The memory stayed with us and we could never understand why, during our travels, we never came across Red Kangaroo. We blamed kangaroo hunters, culling programmes and perhaps road kill as contrary to a 2008 distribution map in our possession we should have seen them over a vast area of Australia.  As the largest marsupial on the planet and well suited to open plains in an arid environment – they would not have been hard to miss especially as they are ‘mob’ creatures but miss them we did until now.  It was a better road travelling back to Boulia through essentially the same scenery, rearranged differently, and we felt it was a long way to go for a somewhat disappointing outcome.

We arrived back in good time to attend the 4 pm. Min Min Encounter – a 45minute animatronics show taking you through six scenes relating to the Min Min light sightings. Many theories have been put forward to account for this unexplained phenomenon  while Aborigines claim these ‘lights’ represent the spirit of their ancestors. Paula and Lea enjoyed the whole experience. George did not enjoy the show he expected a film and scientific explanations!  

First, there were all the breast feathers noticeably scattered through streets and yards. When George asked a resident what accounted for so many? The response was ‘the drought brings all the birds to town’. In turn, trees are destroyed and the Council brings in a tree lopper and residents can pay the cost of having a tree “topped” in their gardens. We looked at the trees and sure enough virtually all trees had been topped. Come evening, clouds of birds swarmed in from foraging. It reminded us of fruit bat emergence at dusk. Predominantly galahs – their mighty twittering added to the fly-over. Brolgas, however, were welcome guests in town and we were delighted to see them regularly strolling around town. We counted 4 permanent residents!

Two Brolgas saunter across Main Street.   The last recognised corroboree tree of the Pitta Pitta tribe. It is also one of Australia’s arboreal rarities – Acacia peuce   

 

Continuing this Outback loop we hit the road for Bedourie stopping briefly outside Boulia to look at a few Waddi trees. Looking very like Casuarina – George was not inclined to believe the corroboree tree in town was an Acacia until he had taken a closer inspection. This drooping needle-leaf wattle only grows in three places. Here, outside Boulia, on Andado Station in the Simpson Desert and outside Birdsville. George wanted to see a seed. Fortunately Lea found two seeds and they were different to that of Casuarina. So the Waddi tree / Acacia peuce the rare and ancient species from the days of the dinosaur and remnant of the last ice age was accepted! So much later, while looking at his map, George realised we’d unwittingly encountered the eastern side of this belt of Waddi trees growing outside Boulia, on the road back from Diamantina National Park.  Not much further along the road we made our first crossing of the Georgina River, another huge catchment area feeding into Lake Eyre. We stopped for tea at a rest area overlooking the treeless plains of Mitchell grasslands before noticing caravans on the top of a crest not far from where we were. Back on the road we noticed the turn off they had taken with its large sign- Not Suitable for Caravans! As we’d seen caravans perched high up there we too took the steep drive up and it was well worth it.  This was the Vaughan Johnson Lookout – a beautiful site with information boards, toilets and BBQ and marvellous 360 degree views from this eyrie, across channel country and the edge of the Simpson Desert in the western distance. Named for Vaughan Johnson, MP for Gregory, in recognition of his advocacy and effort towards the advancement of a sealed road network in Western Queensland, we were to see his name many more times. We made haste for Bedourie and saw a lone grave by the roadside and sadly didn’t stop to see it belonged to the “Donkey Boy”.  Joseph James Dunne, aged 10 years 9 months and known as Donkey Boy was kicked to death on the 13 November 1912 here, by the donkey he was riding. Over time we were to read of many very young children involved in ‘work’ in this harsh Outback. We were keen to spend the night in Bedourie as it boasted an Artesian Spa. We pulled into the council run camping site alongside the Bedourie Aquatic Centre. Free entry but a $50 key deposit and indemnity forms to sign!  We were hot to go until we heard the mineral bath was registering 40’C and the swimming pool 15’C. Instead we spent the afternoon in the Visitors Centre reading and watching videos on the history of their region. Under the old tree outside, the first camp ovens had been made in Bedourie and added to Australia’s iconic list. In 2009 the Bedourie Flood was the longest on record; for ten weeks the little town was an island accessible only by air with flood waters 70 km wide in places.

The next leg was Bedourie to Birdsville on the road known as The Bilby Way. Once wide spread and fairly common, the Bilby or rabbit eared bandicoot’s numbers declined rapidly during the 1900’s apparently due to competition for food from rabbits and livestock and the introduced predators fox and cat. Tourism raises hopes of catching a glimpse of these rabbit sized mammals (Australian Easter Bunny) in one of few areas left in Australian to ‘see’ this endangered creature. Despite eyes out and looking we failed.

On reaching Glengyle Station on the Eyre Creek- we stopped to look across at the property Sir Sydney Kidman bought in 1903. This private property with no public access is still owned by S. Kidman & Co and a large tree outside the homestead is listed by National Trust as the Kidman Tree in as SK camped beneath it during his first trip through this country and it became a rendezvous site for settlers in the area. As Paula and Lea walked across the bridge they thought of the several stockmen who drowned trying to cross this Eyre Creek during a raging flood. A couple of kilometres on, we stopped at the memorial stone to Will Hutchinson, the recognised founder of Coober Pedy at the tender age of 14 years old. While helping his father,   Will picked up a strange looking rock which turned out to be the first opal of the Stuart Range Opal Field in South Australia. Unfortunately Will was dead by the age of 20 knowing little of his great find.  Working as a drover for Sir Sydney Kidman at the time, Will had apparently driven cattle from South Australia to Glengyle Station when this confident swimmer went to cool off and get rid of the dust in Eyre Creek. Three days later his body was recovered from the creek and buried nearby. To this day his death remains a mystery. 

Just before stopping for a coffee break at the Carcoory Ruins, one of the first properties purchased in 1899 by Sydney Kidman; we passed a big collection of white goods that appeared to be dumped together by the roadside for bulk refuse collection. That did not seem right in the middle of limitless no-where. However as our journey progressed...  

  

The road between Bedourie and Birdsville and, a little beyond – brought these side attractions

We soon recognised the quirky humour developing. The Private Road sign bedecked with shoes to the glistening white garden set in the infinite gibber plain where Paula and Lea took a seat expectantly waiting for their trusty old ‘Butler’ to bring tea and scones!  The third photo relates to an early morning walk out of Birdsville to the Diamantina River to find the Burke and Wills blazed tree. We had seen warnings of a croc sighted at the bridge from as far back as Bedourie and laughed at the notion and fear-mongering. However, the council was serious. A fresh water croc (not a fearsome salty!) had been regularly seen sunning on the river sand and sign had gone up around the river area. Two men, given leave of absence by their wives, to accomplish a ‘Corner to Corner’ expedition taking them across the Simpson Desert to Poeppell Corner (where State boundaries meet) had been given a humorous  ‘farewell present’ by their spouses – the sign you see plus the distinctive red and yellow flag to put up out in the desert.  Until now, no place had proved suitable and they hadn’t been able to resist attaching it to the croc warning.  We were in time to aid their handiwork with photographic evidence and hear their ‘story’ before they headed off south for Haddon Corner. After checking the river for the freshie and finding no sign of it on the sandy beach we decided a photo shoot at the sign fitted eccentricity!

We looked out for Moonies Grave - William Moonies job was to patrol the Dingo Fence that skirts the Simpson Desert.  In 1895, after one of his recreational sprees at the Birdsville Hotel he left with two cases of whisky on his packhorse. Six weeks later his body was found 50metres from the track surrounded by empty bottles- but that grave missed our eyes. Around 15 kilometres from Birdsville we came across the stand of Waddi trees and as we passed them Lea noticed strange irregular shapes attached to the trees. George decided to stop and inspect. They were the burst seed pods – very attractive! No wonder Wills had tucked some seeds in with his diary. We were amazed at how many Waddi trees we could see (not realising the Boulia stand had been far bigger than we’d realised at the time). While we watched George walking out across the sandy red plains we discussed the size and age of the Waddi.

Waddi trees are very slow growing and most were approximately 500-1,000 years old  and it is for this reason the wood is considered the hardest timber in Australia causing damage to axes and saws and impossible to drill. Aborigines use the wood to transport fire by carry small smouldering between Waddi sticks as they usually don’t burn if put in a fire. 

Just as well we stopped because as George returned from the Waddi trees the he noticed Getaway had an almost flat tyre. He promptly pumped it up and we just managed to get through to Birdsville before pumping it up again to enable us to reach our camp site in the Caravan Park. In the heat of the day George removed the tyre and replaced with the spare. The sharp stones along the road regularly cause damage to tyres and we were lucky to reach Birdsville in time with one damaged tyre. It was fixed by Tyre Services across the road for $40. Of all the towns and settlements of Outback Queensland – Birdsville looms largest in the psyche with connotations of isolation, explorers and cattle droving luring modern day adventurers to come out and explore the unique and rugged routes through distinct landscapes pounded by fattened cattle taking the historical Birdsville and Strzelecki tracks. A place where rain is counted in rain drops!  We were excited to be here and went for the necessary photo outside the famous hotel. Later, we went for a beer in the pub recognised around the world – as much a symbol of Australia as Sydney Bridge or the Opera House.  

Many photos of the famous Birdsville Hotel facade were taken but we decided this rare one of the three of us best for the record!  

Stowaway Found...

Returning to our site Paula got talking to the neighbour backing onto our site and they told her they had rescued a tree frog climbing up our caravan.  They suspected it as a stowaway hiding in the cover over the spare tyre attached to the back of Getaway.  George had obviously disturbed it during his wheel changing exercise. We all came to look at the tiny amphibian the size of a 50c piece, scrunched up on a leaf. Overnight and throughout the next day, it hadn’t moved and was beginning to look dehydrated that the neighbour would regularly spray it gently with water. Lea could only think we had unwittingly brought the tree-frog well out of its damp environment up in the Tablelands. Asking around- no one had ever seen tree frogs in Birdsville.  By the time our departure arrived, the thought of leaving little frog in such an arid environment had us decide it must continue our journey as far as Toowoomba where we’d seen tree frogs.  Any fly that entered our caravan was stunned and placed into Fred’s ice creamer container home and so Fred returned to travelling the vibrating and bumpy journey along with us in slightly better comfort... In the Stonehenge Visitors Centre we were looking at the annual Photographic Competition held across their region. George observed the distinguishing rubbery green with yellow belly frog in a couple of photographs.  We asked the lady who agreed they had plenty but she didn’t like frogs at all and politely refused to take Fred. We decided Fred should join his froggy relatives in the nearby Thomson River. Turned out, we were on the wrong side of town for crossing the Thomson and Fred had to wait until we reached Longreach before being given freedom.  

Fred the Tree frog....

We further explored Birdsville and soon after midday called in at the Bakery.  What a delightful place – probably takes Top Spot for the effort the owners have taken in creating a special ambiance to go with their tasty homemade food. Outside, a bed of well cared for and glorious sturt peas were out in blossom; a fire pit with log benches further invited travellers to stop in. Apparently cauldrons of soup are kept hot out there when special events are on. At the doorway a photo proclaimed the camel pies were the best ever so we went in for a lunch of camel pie (Lea more content with lamb pie!)  A gallery of Hugh Sawrey’s work and other quirky compositions we recognised but the artist’s name eludes us. A cutting on the Page Family of five perishing outback after leaving their vehicle in search of water brought home the awful truth that Tom Coles mentioned in his book Hell West and Crooked “ The interior of Australia isn’t well balance – you could drown or die of thirst in the same place, depending on the time of year” . We read many tales of death from thirst en route.

Another very interesting aspect of Birdsville caught our eye when we were out walking and saw steam rising from the ground – and correctly surmised it was from the artesian bore that all towns in the Artesian Basin depend on for their water supply. But in Birdsville’s case, an important technological initiative was taken by the Diamantina Shire Council. Availability of super heated underground water enabled a geothermal hydro power station drawing energy from their artesian bore to be developed. The generating turbine is arguably recognised as the smallest hydroelectric plant in the world. 

Everyone talks of the Simpson Desert National Park of 1,012,000 hectares of parallel sand dunes averaging 20 metres in height and stretching away to Poeppel Corner to meet South Australia and the Northern Territory before continuing.  Thirty five miles west of Birdsville the Desert starts with Little Red and Big Red Sandhill believed to be one of the largest sand hills in the Southern Hemisphere at 90m high. George offered to make jaffles for our dinner and we set off along the main access road to the Simpson Desert National Park, horribly corrugated and just before the road crossed over the dune cordon we took the track leading north to Big Red.  We drove slowly as there were a good many young calves skittering about and shortly after, George noticed a dingo being chased away by a defensive mother with other heads of cattle watching on, unfortunately just too far to capture clearly on camera.

With a large body of water, Lake Nappenerica, lying in an inter-dune depression east of Big Red the views from the top of the dune were superb, as was the form of the dune with its finely sculptured surface and curved wind-swept crest. So undisturbed and perfect, we felt disinclined to walk over it.  

Vista’s from Big Red.

Consequently, to find half a dozen 4x4s parked in the midst of Big Red, amongst a sea of vehicle tracks, playing games by ploughing up and down the western face irritated George, our environmentalist, no end. Having devoted much of his professional career in both South Africa and Western Australia combating the effects of dune destabilisation, the disregard shown for what is well known as one of the most fragile of habitats, filled him with disgust. In his view the highest dune in the Simpson Desert, Big Red, should be treated with the respect it deserves; that Queensland’s so-called Environmental Protection Agency should be ashamed of itself and, if people insist on watching the sunset from the top of Big Red, then a properly constructed boardwalk should be installed. Adding to his displeasure was the evidence of five other scars on the east face of Big Red where thrill seekers in their 4x4s have attempted to climb the dune. A similar thing was also occurring where the dune cordon is breached by the main access road into the Simpson Desert National Park at “Little Red”. Controversially, Paula and Lea enjoyed watching the young bloods trying to crest the dune and speaking to other travellers who’d come up the dune in their trucks to wait for sunset. Paula photographed George ‘tut-tutting’ quietly to himself up on the highest point! 

 

Circumspectly, SKV stayed  below overlooking Lake Nappenerica where our good ‘Butler’ served up tasty jaffles as we sucked on a chilled beer watching the changes of light across a lake we were led to understand only arrived after the 2009 floods . 

Over supper we told George about this ‘new’ unknown lake. Our doubting Thomas checked his map and concluded otherwise as many inter-dune depressions will hold water at intervals and this was further confirmed as correct in due course. In Longreach, we went to a Gallery and saw superb photographs of Lake Nappenerica with colourful bands of red and green fringing vegetation.  The Photographer told us that prior to the 2009 flood no records in living memory existed of the lake holding water.

Absolutely no information about the route to Betoota had indicated we’d come across a massive landscape artwork in the form of a serpent.

It was all the more stunning to come across it and only much later establish it was the Dreamtime Serpent, a work of art representing pathways that connect the river systems in the Channel Country of the Diamantina Shire.  The serpent had been created using gravel and gibbers of different colours and sizes found throughout this region. Remarkable to say the least!

We stopped for lunch outside the hotel in the ghost town of Betoota which only comes alive at the end of each August when the horse races come to town and folk fly in for the meet or bush camp out on the vast gibber plains in readiness for the occasion. Betoota began as a custom post in 1885 to collect a stock toll off the drovers using the stock route to South Australia. A boom came with three hotels, police station, store, post office and a Cobb and Co changing station. Then the bust when all but one hotel remained as a favourite resting place and refuelling spot until 1997. Over those last thirty years Betoota had a Population 1 then zero!  Publican and Outback Legend, Simon Remienko was the sole resident of Betoota until he was 82 running the remaining hotel (built late 1880’s) from 1957 – 97. He was once stranded on the Birdsville Track with his truckload of eight tonnes of beer for 18 weeks. That’s what can happen in Channel Country!

 

Behind this deserted hotel with its many fences, sheds, water tanks, generated electrical poles out to the two old fuel pumps, we found a battered yellow double-decker bus and the grave of Ziggy -  Ziegmund (Simon) Remienko 1915 - 2004  

Twenty kms further we stopped for the night on top of Deon’s Lookout, so named in the memory of a 20 year old lad from Birdsville, tragically killed in a helicopter accident just SW of this point On the memorial stone read  “Peace to all travellers who share this view”.

A bird’s eye of a wonderful tapestry that from ground level seem flat and featureless and from a lookout reveal gently undulating hills, low ridges and ephemeral watercourses  giving the country its unique character.  

George took a walk down the side of the mesa we were parked upon, drawn by the conical hill seen to the left of the landscape photo. It had a very slippery and unstable slope of shattered shales. Meanwhile, Paula took a walking route along the road and bumped into kangaroos. 

After leaving Deon’s Lookout the next day we passed the turn off to Haddon Corner and Innamincka. We were on our last stretch of the Birdsville Developmental road and coming up to the junction that would take us east to Windorah with a tarred road. Tar, yes but the narrow strip which does not make for pleasant driving! Midway we passed the watershed separating the Diamantina River and Cooper Creek. We stopped in Windorah, outside a beautifully kept garden with green lush grass and colourful petunias. We spent more time wandering aimlessly around the Main Street looking for the visitors centre and only spotted it on departure! Windorah may be the ‘Heart of the Channel Country” but we didn’t see Cooper Creek and other than a memorial stone to a policeman who died of thirst  and a pretty cafe frontage there wasn’t much until we found the visitors centre with a slab hut beside it.  By then Lea was keen to get going to Jundah for the night (thanks to glossy advertising that didn’t quite materialise!)

En route we stopped to look at Native wells – a common archaeological feature found on the hard stony ridges between the major rivers out here. In Jundah we parked in the small confines attached to the Barcoo Shire War Memorial Park. Cheap with a new and very nice ablution block inside the park recently opened by the MP for Gregory Vaughan Johnson. Paula and Lea walked town and down to the Thomson River once it was pleasantly cool.

Next day we made for Stonehenge – local tradition says this little settlement grew from a stone hut on the edge of the Thomson River at a well used teamster crossing. The bullockies took in the stone hut until it fell into disrepair and humour dubbed it Stonehenge. En route across the flat land we kept searching for a Lookout- and were most surprised when the sign appeared on the ‘level’ with us. Swanvale Lookout was beautiful! Extensive views across surrounding countryside with thick Acacia woodland and flat topped mesas. A perfect place for bush camping and George wanted to go no further despite the early hour. No sooner were we back on the road that the steep decline was upon us – no wonder we were mislead coming from the west!

Stonehenge was a little settlement well cared for by its population of 40 which was about to swell considerably that afternoon with 350 Variety Club members descending for the night- all to be fed and watered and given camping sites. Never the less the busy lady and her mother in the Information Centre were ready to yarn. A metal sculptures of a sheepdog, some sheep, the water tank and the ubiquitous windmill that we see in places with artesian water supplies. The walls were bedecked with photos from their annual resident’s competition giving us a most inviting insight into the transformation of the landscape after rain. Next door, part of the hotel was without a roof, whipped off in January 2013 by a little known cyclone that came out of nowhere.  We left them to their preparations and town to find their very special Visitors book – a most appropriate one for Stonehenge.   

 

5 km east, we signed the Stonehenge Visitors Book in stone.

From then on our journey to Longreach was awful. It was a dreadful road; the narrow tar with rough edges and hazardous ruts in places had us all focusing on the busy road that had far more traffic that we’d become used to. The road rule: pull off for anything bigger than yourself and there are wide dusty servitudes that have to be well timed due to soft shoulders and guide posts. Locals cleared right off the road while visitors kept two wheels on and kicked up stones. Road trains, bowsers and cattle semi trailers owned the road. This was a long drawn out, tiring and stressful journey in terrain that had little appeal.

Our Big Loop of the Outback, covering 2400 kms came to an end in Longreach.

In his book “Down Under” Bill Bryson jumped to the conclusion that driving through Australia would be “the dreariest punishment imaginable, endlessly driving across a landscape that is mostly hot, dry and empty”. We found this loop incredibly inspiring and totally fascinating. 

Pulling into Longreach the caravan parks were crammed and expensive; we decided to go and check out the bush camp alongside the Thomson River and found an equally tight fit of caravans, campervans, motorhomes, small buses and a big pink bus. There were plenty of comings and goings  and we were glad to have a spot on the end closest to the river and the Apex Park with toilets.  We went for showers at the Longreach Swimming pool.

 Better to camp free alongside a river amongst a mob than in a town caravan park. We spent four nights here.  

Longreach seemed rather disorganised – a small Visitor Centre for the size of the town and a big hub in the Outback. We had a long winded time trying to book Paula’s return on the Greyhound nevertheless we were all keen to see the Australian Stockman’s Hall of Fame and Outback Heritage Centre. We were outside its mighty arched entrance on opening time to find a queue building up. Certainly the numbers flock in here.  We also bought tickets for Lachie Cossor’s Stockman’s Show at 11 a.m.

Stockman’s Hall of Fame

There was so much to read about- particularly the unsung heroes whose stories line the length of every wall. The tale of Sheep Shearer Bertie Thomas Harris and his wife Grace Violet having 20 children blew Lea away. The 12 sons, all became shearers and of the 8 daughters, 5 worked in the sheds ‘picking up’.  Tom Cole’s book ‘Hell West and Crooked’ was further enriched by the history contained within the Hall of Fame from wily ‘sundowners’ which were not a tipple at sundown as in African lingo! A “Dorrigo Dog” was a rattle formed with pieces of tin and shaken to frighten sheep into the pen when a sheep dog was unavailable. 

Lachie’s show made for wonderful entertainment as he lead us through the life of a stockman with his horses, dogs, pigs, sheep and a bull called Jigsaw. 

Eventually brain dead and hungry – the clock long passed the lunch hour and only half way through all there was to see; we left with a re-entry pass to come back next day. We returned to the caravan for food and rest before returning to town for a shower.  We were off to the Bowling Club that evening to attend a show in aid of Breast Cancer. A.J. Muriel and Mavis were travelling around Australia in their Big Pink Bus - parked out on the Thomson River too.  They were a hoot, with their songs - AJ stood for awesome jugs and Mavis had little jugs and they played on their “endowments” throughout the evening!  Sadly there was not a good turnout but the $5 hamburgers with works were very tasty. 

We returned to the Hall of Fame next day- wiser with a picnic in tow and sure enough we were only through everything in the Hall at the same time as the previous day.  We enjoyed lunch in the shady spot before moving on to the Heritage Centre with its lovely gardens and in particular The Quiet Place or Eternal Muster, an open air chapel with brass leaves to those on eternal muster; a  lovely memorial. We returned to our bit of the Thomson River- went to check if there was any sign of Fred the tree frog before crossing the old bridge and walking down the western side of the river as sunset fell. We crossed back over the old railway bridge like naughty kids, in order to return home up the west side.

For Paula’s last day before she caught the Greyhound that afternoon we popped into town for lunch at Kinnon & Co. This family owned and operated business is not only very well advertised, it is beautifully run sharing Old Time Outback History and Heritage giving Cobb & Co Tours and Thomson River Cruises.  George showed great interest in the ‘Gallop Thru the Scrub” but got cold feet seeing the folk put on old time “hats” and he decided it was beyond his pocket. He was content to watch the stage coach prepare to pull out of the Kinnon & Co Station with dog barking excitedly from the buck board or perhaps it is a tail board and finish off with a trot through town. This generated a lot of internal excitement within us. The Station shop was well laid out with a cafe at the back in old bush style serving up Outback country fare - Beef stew and bread which we enjoyed. A last walk in the War Memorial Park gave Paula’s legs a stretch before boarding the coach.   

Having opened this account of our journey through Outback Queensland with a shot of corellas in Winton, it seems fitting to close with a shot of corellas in Longreach, especially as we’ve always been fascinated by the damage done to trees for some inexplicable reason by these birds. Corellas seem to take great delight in stripping the leaves off the branches they roost on and the rain of faeces that drops down then smothers everything below. The Council appeared to have tried to dissuade the birds from roosting in the park by cutting down the branches of their favourite tree. However, it seemed to us that the corellas had simply moved on to the next.    

Defoliation of the trees in Longreach’s public park by corellas. 

“Still can't believe what an amazing adventure that was - what a different world. And what different people who coped with all the hardships, as against all the Australians who use Centrelink today to survive!  I can never thank you enough for looking after me so well - and giving me the opportunity of experiencing the grey nomad life. – Paula”