Month: November 2023

Innamincka to Cooladdi

Today was always going to be a day of munching miles. Our plan now was to get to Roma in two days to visit mum, spend a day there then scoot home on Monday next week. Panther sat ready to go. All we needed was a favourable wind and the almost 600ks would be done in no time.

A few ‘see you later Innamincka’ pics and we were off. It seemed we had dramas though. We’d only travel a few minutes, then another photo opportunity would pop up. First it was barren gibber plains urging me to send a snap to friends on the Sunshine Coast highlighting the similarities in geography. Then a herd of camels decided to be stars followed by a few emus. To top off the lack of momentum, cattle and lizards were abundant on the bitumen. Whoever said this was a dry land devoid of animal life was not looking.

Finally we got properly underway. Panther humming along directly into a vicious headwind drinking fuel at a ferocious rate, only eased by slowing considerably to a ‘get there in about a week’ speed.

Turning left at the intersection near the toilets without water, beside the cattle trucks, near the man who would not shut up, changed our day. The wind was quite literally up our backside. Panther grew legs and flew, merely sipping at the liquid gold in the tank.

Eromanga was next with not much to offer other than a toilet with frogs in the bowl to match. G’s experience was complete. Fuel was available but only if you downloaded an app, danced a jig and offered your credit card to a robot on the side of the road. A quick calculation told us Quilpie was achievable on what we had left.

Rolling into Quilpie warm memories came flooding back. We are not sure why, but this town feels good. It is well looked after, has a strong community bond and a great café. Heading straight for the café that doubles as a service station, we met Simon the owner again. He had been a police officer in the Whitsundays when we were in Mackay.

Simon told us of a storm that had severely damaged his business. He continued with his plans for the old Cinema next door and gave us a tour of the historical building complete with rows and rows of old time theatre seats. It was a good way to experience Quilpie again.

We rolled out of town with bellies full of a seriously good bacon and egg delicious and some take away cakes. With only 122 ks to go we were powering along.

Finally we turned left past the Cooladdi Pub into the open paddock full of stunted trees providing hints of shade on what was a very hot afternoon. There was no doubt we were back in Queensland.

With only a couple of travel days to go our trip has pretty much wound to a close. As always what eventuated was only remotely like what was planned. Just the way we like it.

Strzelecki Track to Innamincka

Waking to a beautiful morning with a sunrise over stunted sand hills, we were again spoiled. It was just us for the night without visitors be they human or otherwise.

On the track again, it was not long before the geography changed lending itself to a road surface of clay cap over sand base. Consequently the corrugations dropped from the billions per kilometre to mere millions. The difference was incredible as our speed increased, the headwind vanished, and all was good in the world.

A morning tea break at another bore led us to believe the majority of them had been capped as all we encountered were dry. There is no doubt it saves water from the artesian basin. On the other hand it leaves the abundant bird life and odd skinny dingo without a drink every few days. There is a good debate in there somewhere.

A few kilometres south of the Moomba Gas Fields we saw, but could not get close enough to photograph, a massive flame fuelled by underground gas reaching for the sky. I have no idea why it works this way. It does however provide a brilliant point of interest to those of us who know nothing more about gas than it comes from the stove and makes the kettle hot.

A short time later we crested a hill to find what looked like an inland city. The Moomba hub is massive, literally stuck in the middle of nowhere. Even the most hardened greeny would have to acknowledge this is a pretty cool piece of engineering.

Turning right we were now on the last leg to Innamincka. And what a brilliant leg it was. We crested sand dunes, swept down through dune canyons snaking our way through an ever changing landscape. This short part was a highlight of the trip from Lyndhurst.

Arriving at Innamincka following the final few ks of bitumen, we noticed it had not changed at all since our 1999 visit. It was devoid of crowds, however. There was us, a few truckies involved in a gas rig shut down and three paramedics and pilot who had flown down in a chopper for a feed. Not a bad way to go to dinner if you can organise it.

We set up camp right beside one of the last remaining water holes on Cooper Creek before having a very decent chicken schnitzel for dinner courtesy of the seven-week Irish backpacker veteran of the outback.

Tomorrow we head homeward. With over 500ks to go we will have to leave early and keep our averages up.

Copley to somewhere on the Strzelecki Track

Not knowing where we would get to today we set off the 37 ks to Lyndhurst to top off our fuel tanks before making the turn onto the Strzelecki Track. The more remote South Australian areas are full of 24 hour unmanned fuel bowsers. Apparently no one wants to talk much these days, so they stick a robot on the side of the road to dispense diesel. Not saying we are a fan, but when you need fuel they are welcome.

Unlike our 1999 first visit, the track started out as bitumen and not bad bitumen at that given the majority of its load is mining rucks heading to and from the Moomba gas fields. Soon enough a sign told us gravel was coming up with a coincident drop in travel speed to about 60ks/h, as this is rocky, tyre destroying country.

The mind image is when picturing Australian outback travel is of endless plains with heat haze a constant friend and water never seen. Indeed the track was completely different. Scenery constantly changing from rocky ranges, to plains, to gibbers and saltbush. We pretty much followed the western side of the northern Flinders noting Arkaroola Wilderness area was just over there; about 180km away. Being bored out here is next to impossible unless you are a PC Jockey with no life.

Travelling late in the season has its advantages with little to no traffic and campgrounds devoid of filthy tourists just like us. It also has its disadvantages as the road works on gravel roads are usually only completed out of season ready for the next.

No one loves corrugations. No one! Little ones aren’t too bad with an adjustment to speed allowing a vehicle to zoom across the top of them and not feel much at all. Big ones are brutal with the car and van dropping deep into each one shaking the hell out of everything. We encountered a smorgasbord of corrugations. For some reason it appeared we had but a morsel of little ones and gorged ourselves on big ones. At one stage the track to side of the road was a better option. We plastered along with the left hand guideposts to the right of the car for a smoother ride.

A longish but not lunch stop was necessary at the claimed longest structure in the world (or was it the Southern Hemisphere or was it Australia or…..) being the dog fence. Not to be confused with the rabbit proof fence made famous in the movie, this one stops dingoes and wild dogs travelling into sheep grazing areas and have lamb chops for dinner. A bit like COVID border control for puppies. We discussed whether or not a committed dingo could get a decent run up and jump the fence or not, deciding that perhaps not, as the fence has been effective for very many years.

On we went bouncing across never ending corrugations interspersed with sections of five kilometre long bitumen seemingly in the middle of nowhere for no good reason. Consensus was road designers let us put up with rotten dirt road until breaking point then slapped a bit of black stuff down for just long enough to restore our faith, then bash us again. It felt like Chinese water torture, without the water.

Early afternoon we happened across and eagerly awaited Montecollina Bore camping ground. In typical fashion ‘that F%$^#*g Hema’ told us that it had trees, tables and water. All correct except water. The bore had obviously been turned off many years ago as there was but a barren hole where once bird and animal life was plentiful. As a com ground it was still brilliant as we hunkered down amid stunted sand hills out of view of the three vehicles that passed in the ensuing 16 hours or so.

Trev and I emptied our two reserve jerry cans of fuel into the cars in the semi-certain knowledge it would be enough to get us to Innamincka tomorrow. We had battled ballistic head and side winds all day with fuel being sucked faster than a Slurpee on a summers day. We would need to be careful tomorrow with the hurt of the fuel price at Innamincka, whilst unknown, already starting to cause pain.