Dirty Feet

Day Three: Duaringa to Elphinstone Dam.

We rose early, did a bit of exercise in the park, had breakfast, then Richard got attacked.

It came from nowhere in the form of one of gods special people on day release from the Grumpy Old Man’s infirmary. As we plugged the water hose into a tap in the park to fill our water tanks, he launched. “The water filling station is over there”, pointing with a distinct lack of authority.

Bemuddled, Richard and Peter looked at the tap, then at the idiot. Undeterred he then referred them to the sign attached to the tap bleating out “read the sign.” So they did. After reading out loud that a park visitor could not hook up to the tap permanently, Richard informed our newfound annoyance that the sign indicated we could hook up so long as we were not permanently there. A second reading was required by the hose police before he skulked off into his van to nurture his stupidity and bathe his damaged ego.

Water filled, we headed North on Apis Creek Road collectively cursing Dometic fridges for the new product in Denise and Richard’s van had decided to remain on strike as it had done since day one.

We stopped for the coal train wondering how many wheelbarrow loads of the black stuff was in each behemoth. Soon after, we hit dirt and would remain on this surface for the next hundred or so ks.

Apis Creek Road is a damned good drive. It winds its way through cattle properties, over ranges and into and out of steep gullies, pretending to be creeks. We reckoned the road, as good as it was, would be diabolical in the wet as the predominate surface was clay.

Throughout the gravel section, Australian wildlife was on full display. Together we encountered roos of dark brown, red, and grey colour as well as their companions on the Coat of Arms, the emu. A dingo shot out in front of Julie and Ron with the odd Brahman having a crack at Peter and G.

As this lively drive came to an end at the Marlborough Sarina Road (Old Bruce Highway), we noted the landscape change suddenly. It was now dominated by massive white beasts sitting in commanding positions atop hills of all denominations. It was frankly disgusting, and wholly un-Australian. It was the Clarke Creek windfarm!! We wondered if any of the decision makers had ever ventured from behind their desk to see the destruction this type of cosmetic agriculture causes.

We headed north on the rougher than dirt bitumen highway. After what seemed not much time we dropped in for lunch at the lovely little park in the middle of nowhere that celebrates the 1956 Olympic Torch coming through that way. There is an over-size replica of the torch from 56 and a plaque explaining the significance of the monument.

About 100 km latter we were turning left before arriving at Nebo for fuel not much later. As the afternoon was drawing on we made haste for our camp at Elphinstone Dam.

Last time we were here the dam was a muddy puddle with not much life about  and nothing at all to inspire. Today however, it was the opposite. It was picturesque and most welcoming. We found a great spot for three vans parked in a semi-circle before enjoying a relaxing afternoon. The setting sun changed the colours of the lake minute by minute before darkness arrived not long before a scrumptious dinner of lamb chops, foiled potatoes done in the fire, and slightly burnt sausages.

Richard took on the title of Chief Drone as we played with his new toy, soon realising it was dead easy to fly and really spooky when it hovered starring at you from a metre away. We found out it is very useful for checking solar panels on the roof of the vans, saving a ladder climb and possible hospital visit in the process.

Again our conversation was riveting. Tonight we covered driving through round-a-bouts, accidents around camps, UHF radios and a heap of other random topics popping up for no particular reason.

Despite needing a sleep in, tomorrow will be worth crawling out of bed early, as the rising sun is set to make some special magic on the lake that will need to be captured in camera.