Clare to Pildappa Rock
The first order of business was to trickle down the road to Auburn for another delicious ham, cheese and tomato toasty washed down by excellent tea and coffee. Arriving early we spent about 14 minutes walking the streets waiting for the shop to open.
In that time I found the elusive House of the Rising Sun despite having spent my life believing it was a well known den of iniquity in New Orleans. But there it was in all its glory. Funnily enough it was located directly across the road from the Auburn CWA rooms!
We mounted up and headed north then north westish cutting through small town after small town. Yacka was the one that drew our interest most. Old buildings with faded business signs directing our thoughts to times gone when hard physical work was the currency most valued. Some pics, a wee and we were off.
In good time we motored through Crystal Brook, past Port Pirie and Port Germein before coming across probably the worst environmental vandalism we have seen anywhere. Like a barrier to common sense about 50 wind turbines formed a line directly across the landscape in front of us. The entire outlook had been destroyed by uneconomical rubbish with a half-life of just under a few thousand years. Bring on a clean coal fired power plant any day!
We passed though Port Augusta being the best thing anyone can do in that place. Last time we were here it appeared dirty, dusty and unkempt. Today it lived up to its reputation with groups aimlessly walking the streets, providing a feel of ‘unsafe’ for the visitor to soak up.
Now on the main drag west across the top of the Eyre Peninsula we noted that wheat and barley were still the crop of choice. G decided to educate both of us on the differences between the two. Apparently barely is the hairier one of the two with wheat having a longer seed poddy thing. The other yellow stuff was Alfalfa that was mixed into hay. From that point on she was able to voice with confidence, at a distance, what the next crop was.
As we crawled along the highway we began to hear some crackle on the CB radio. We made out the words “got a 6 metre coming your way, can you go to the edge of the black thanks mate?” Over the next 15 or so minutes the crackle got less crackly appearing to us that a wide load was coming our way.
A look in the mirror revealed a scene not previously encounter in all our years travelling. A pilot vehicle was coming up behind us obviously travelling much faster than us. He overtook us and the CB crackle continued. Another look and the mirrors were filled with a Freightliner towing a 6 metre wide grain tank. We called and asked if they wanted us to get out of the way. The response was no, we will let you know. And they did. The next straight devoid of traffic the call went out and the truck lit up the tarmac like a V8 supercar. He was out and around and disappearing into the horizon within seconds. The lawman in me said ‘dickhead’, yet I could not help but be impressed at being overtaken by a wide load with such commitment to on time delivery.
We fuelled at somethingorother where the burgers were nice before stopping at Minnipa to wait for Trevor and Sue coming behind us. At this location we encountered the Concrete Crapper, being a concrete water tank re-purposed to obviously dispose of concrete craps. It was at least colourful and was the pride and joy of the local Apex Club. Their sign said so.
The 15ks out to Pildappa Rock was on the best dirt road ever. Rock hard, flowing and without potholes, we marched along vey nicely. Arriving at the rock we chewed a few flies whilst selecting the best camp. We set up before beginning the afternoon wine and chat session.
It is quite amazing the topics covered in the middle of the bush without the pressures of normal life imposing. Whether Goondiwindi should be pronounced Gooooondeewindee or Gundawindy was top of the charts leading to whether Gunsynd ‘the Goondiwindi grey ‘was in fact grey or just a normal shitty horse colour.
Cold set in like never before with mercury dropping into massive shrinkage territory. We elected for the comfort of bed at a reasonable hour, if that is possible with day light saving, where lunch time seems to come well before breakfast