Fitzroy Crossing to east of Halls Creek

With the first part of our long journey today being bitumen, we made pretty good time. The headwind robbed any chance of an economy run, but Puma cruised along regardless. We morning teaed at a brilliant little spot by a river. The road in was wide and sealed  ending in a city of van travellers having the same idea as us.

The area was tree lined, calm and welcoming. A dozen or so young Brahman cattle called this place their own, wandering without a care in the world amongst the van and people. One young one saw Henry the travelling dog and decided he must be a calf, only bigger. Henry decided it must be a dog only much, much bigger. They had a good old game for a few minutes to the amusement of G and Sue.

On a bit further we encountered a sign for the Mimbi Caves. We looked right and jotted it down in the memory for our next trip when we have time to drop in for a day or two. As we entered Halls Creek we learned via radio from Trevor and Sue that the bakery was closed. Our hearts sank to terrible depths. Halls Creek was not the flashest town in the west. With no bakery, it had little going for it.

We fuelled up at reasonable prices, ate some Minties and headed off across Duncan Road past Old Halls Creek, China Wall and Palm Springs. An earlier call to the Halls Creek Police asking about road conditions let us know the first 50 km or so out of town would be rough as the road wound through the hills. Accurate, but understated. It was as rough as guts. Puma worked hard to get momentum and keep it. It seemed every kilometre or so we dropped into an impossibly rotten dip full of corrugations metres wide before climbing out again onto hard rock slabs equally damaging. Still Puma charged on. G-String bounced along happily behind.

As we entered one creek crossing of above average beauty, G decided to take a photo as we were moving slowly. At the very moment one of two blokes in the water moved his chair into her shot in the middle of the river. Well he may have thought she was waving, given he waved back, however Peter can well assure you the hand signal was not a wave and the greeting was not ‘have a lovely day’. G was on fire.

We stopped for a proper lunch at a waterhole of no name in the middle of nowhere. The water was clear and green. Fresh and inviting; except for the Crocwise signs we had seen earlier. It was a look, don’t ouch scenario this time.

As the hills finally gave way to savannah grass lands, the road relented just a bit. We now hammered along at about 85ks scooting across the top of corrugations as opposed to visiting each one individually.

The miles accumulated as did the dust till finally we called it a day at an ideal camp spot about 30ks short of the NT border. Not far off the road, we still had privacy, the most amazing sunset and night skies with millions of stars. Only the call of a Jabiru kept us company.

Tomorrow we enter the NT, COVID passes in hand. Fingers crossed Hall Creek does not have and overnight outbreak!