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.
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.
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 19th
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.
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.
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.
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.
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 7th
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.
.JPG)
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!
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!
.JPG)
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.
.JPG)
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.
.JPG)
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”
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