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.
