Australian outback - thegoodwills.com

Watch out for wide loads

wide-loads-road-hazards — Photo by Laurel Wilson aka She Who Takes Photos Through The Car Window (SWTPTTCW)

When you’re caravanning in central Queensland, there are three main road hazards to watch for: road trains, road kill and wide loads. You won’t see the latter as often as kangaroos (dead or alive), wandering cattle or European tourists on bicycles. But when you do, there’s always plenty of warning. A pilot vehicle travelling well in front is the first clue. Or, if the load is wider than 5.5m, you will find police cars leading the convoy.

We encountered an 8-metre wide load when setting off from Clermont to Emerald on the Gregory highway.

The police pilot car stopped us and told us to move off the road.“It’s an 8-metre bucket and he’s not far behind me,” he warned.

Did I mention that in these parts the black soil plains turn to quicksand after rain? It was good that conditions were dry as we steered the car and van onto the grassy edges of the road.

Minutes later, the wide load roared past, followed by another escort vehicle and police car.

My view as a responsible road user is not unreasonable – we are entitled to our half of the road. The rules change when you are on outback roads traversed by road train, which often comprise a prime mover and two or even three trailers behind. When we are at truck stops, taking a breather, we usually check out the road trains that have stopped and sometimes ask the drivers where they are going. Last Sunday, we let a mine truck and its three trailers leave the rest stop first. The last thing caravanners averaging 85-90 kph want is one of those things on their hammer.

To that end, many grey nomads as they are known, employ UHF radio transmitters which they can use to tune into truckie transmissions.

It’s not exactly like the CW McCall country song “10-4 we got ourselves a convoy”, but is is useful for a van in front of a road train to be able to broadcast a message like: “We’ll pull over at the next truck stop, mate”.

I’m not sure about other grey nomads, but if you take the time to say G’day to truckies, it breaks down the “us and them” mindset.

I guess you’ve seen the movie, Duel?

At one rest stop I gave a young truck driver a hand to relocate a tyre which was in danger of falling out of his front trailer. He was towing two trailers full of car tyres. He hopped up on the drawbar and I held the tyre up until he could hoist it into the second trailer.

We had a chat about being on the road in a caravan and the etiquette of giving way to road trains. He assured me he would probably not catch up with us as his rig is limited to 90khm.

The wide load incident had me musing about the logistics involved in relocating the Peak Downs Homestead from its home of 118 years to Capella Pioneer Village. Pastoralist George Fairbairn had the homestead built for him in 1869. The builders used spotted gum timber and a system of mortise and tenon construction as nails were scarce and expensive to make in the mid-1800s.

We visited the village last Sunday and were impressed with the grand old homestead, considered to be one of the largest restored buildings of its type in Australia.

In 1987 the Capella Pioneer Village Committee negotiated for the purchase and removal of the homestead, which by that time had 40% white ant damage. Restoration work began 1989, again using local spotted gum timber and the system of mortise and tenon joints. Work was done in stages as funds were raised. The restoration, costing $125,000, included a new roof. The replacement value of the homestead today is more than $1 million. The committee member who welcomed visitors told me the homestead was moved from Peak Downs station in one piece in 1988.

This is not your typical pioneer cottage. The rooms are large with high ceilings, big fireplaces and all rooms open to a 25 metre long veranda. Try to imagine it traversing the plains on the back of a low loader (or two).

When you are towing a caravan or trailer, it is your responsibility to give way to road trains and wide loads. Bear in mind that vehicles of this type will be travelling at 80kmh with no way of braking or evading if you happen to be not paying attention.

Wide loads are one thing, but then there are the occasions when mining companies move a dragline from one mine to another. A dragline featured in that famous John Prine song, Paradise. “So the coal company came with the world’s biggest shovel, and they tortured the timber and stripped all the land”.

A dragline is a massive crane-like machine the size of an office building which operates on open cut coal mines. The sole task is to remove overburden with its 50 cubic metre capacity bucket to reveal the coal seams beneath.

In August 2017, BHP moved Dragline 27 from the Goonyella Riverside Mine to the South Walker Creek Mine. The Mackay Mercury reported that the 280km across country journey followed a route previously used to move another dragline in 2000. Highlights of the exercise included the 3,000 tonne, 45m tall Marion dragline crossing the Peak Downs Highway at Coppabella.

Draglines have 530 wheels and can ‘walk” across country at the rate of three or four kilometres per day. This exercise took 18 months to plan and four months to complete. Teams of contractors built a 35m wide corridor. Temporary road, rail and powerline crossings were built as late as possible and removed after the dragline had moved on.

While you’d have to be lucky to witness a dragline crossing, it is important motorists are aware of oversized load etiquette.

Graeme Ransley from the Road Accident Action Group told the Minerals and Energy Bulletin wide loads are getting wider, up to 10.5m. Police escorts are required when the load is wider than 5.5m. The RAAG began a campaign to educate motorists about wide loads after requests from pilot drivers and police

“Some of the concerns raised included a lack of motorist knowledge, and patience, with drivers not heeding lawful directions by escort pilots to slow down or stopping in a safe place,” he said.

“By 2013, there were up to 650 escorted wide loads per month in the Mackay region alone”.

Bearing those scary stats in mind, I spent a while this week looking at dash cam videos. This resulted in unpleasant dreams and a resolve to lift my driving attention levels. If you are planning a long trip with a caravan or camper trailer, ‘What truckies put up with every day” is a stark reminder to pay attention and drive to the conditions. Warning: not for the faint-hearted.

You will be happy to know I posted this after we’d arrived safely home, after covering 6,178 kms in five weeks. Next week’s list: washing, wheel alignment, car wash, dentist, Covid vaccination, get SWTPOTCW to write a guest blog; find another footie team to follow.

Dangerous Australia Revisited

This week’s essay is brought to you by the letter S – snakes, sharks, spiders, scorpions, stingrays, stonefish and sand flies. Some might dispute the description of the saltwater sand fly or midge as deadly. But itchy bites can sure take the edge off a beach holiday. The odds of being bitten by a sand fly in their territory (saltwater marshes) are probably 2-1, with longer odds for those experiencing extreme reactions (me and She).

Of course there are many other potentially deadly Australian critters, names starting with other letters – blue ringed octopus, crocodiles, dingoes, marine stingers, mosquitoes and so on.

At Cape Hillsborough, North of Mackay, sand flies dominated every casual conversation. The trick is to slather yourself with insect repellent before you go outdoors and avoid being out in the early morning and late afternoon. The other sensible tip (which few people heed when at the beach) is to cover as much skin as possible with long shirts, trousers and socks. Some swear by taking vitamin B or variants but this has not been clinically proven to make you less attractive to midges/sand flies.

When my nephew in New Zealand was first planning to bring his kids over for a tour of the Gold Coast theme parks, he had been watching a National Geographic TV series, Australia’s Deadliest. The weekly tales of snake bites, shark attacks and rogue crocodiles all but put him off. Yes, it is true we have some lethal critters, but the chances of becoming a victim are not high.

A study by the University of Melbourne concludes you are more likely to be killed by being trampled on or thrown from a horse.

While we would not want to diminish the horror of a shark attack, fatalities averaged two per year between 2000 and 2013. The number of crocodile fatalities was lower still – 19 deaths over 13 years. Having said that, if a shark or croc gets you, chances of survival are slim.

Near the end of an amphibious vessel tour at 1770, the skipper encouraged guests to enjoy their stay, but added a warning. Four people had recently been stung by stonefish in the shallows around this estuarine settlement. Stonefish, as the name implies, camouflage themselves in the sand, trying to look like the spiky rocks they so resemble. If you stand on a stonefish, it will inject a barb into your foot causing immediate and dire pain. Stonefish stings are not usually fatal, but the pain is such you may wish you were dead. First aid measures include putting the affected foot in a bucket of warm water, gradually adding hot water until it is as hot as you can stand. This is an interim pain relief measure while you wait for paramedics to arrive and administer heavy duty pain killers. You will probably be taken to hospital and, if necessary, have the barb surgically removed. Some intrepid reporter may well track you down and write a story.

Having taken this information on board, we were cautious when strolling on the Cape Hillsborough beach at low tide. My sister-in- law took pictures of sea creatures around exposed rocks, including today’s photo. We say it may or may not be a blue ringed octopus, as we have sent the photo in for ID and have not yet heard back.

Blue ringed octopus rarely bite people, but if they do, the venom can be fatal. They live in tidal pools, remaining out of sight during the day and hunting by night. As with all small marine critters, best left alone, eh. The more common venomous sea critters in North Queensland, which keep people from swimming between October and May, are marine stingers. All manner of jellyfish live in the warm tropical water, the most venomous being the Australian box jellyfish. If stung, the best medical advice is to pour vinegar on the stings and carefully remove tentacles (this will stop more stinging but not the pain). Call 000.

As for snakes, I can identify tree snakes, pythons and Red Belly Blacks. The latter are venomous but shy and will rapidly retreat if you leave them room. Not so the Eastern Brown, which will look for an excuse to attack. If you are out bush walking in Australia and spot a snake, stop, then quietly back up. We did this recently on a bush walk in Maleny, when spying two pythons who were either fighting or making baby snakes. Either way, we gave them a wide berth. The Royal Flying Doctor Service says 3,000 people were bitten by snakes in 2020. There were 550 hospitalisations and two people died.

Not to mention funnel web spiders

We were planting a tree down the bottom of our half acre block and I pulled out the remnants of a tree root. Up jumped this big black hairy spider which reared up on its back legs. (I went inside and made a nice cup of tea and googled funnel web spider). Some members of the funnel web family produce venom which is toxic to humans. There have been no reported deaths since development of antivenene. All the same, if you see a large black hairy spider which appears to be aggressive, move well away.

Snake, shark and croc attacks are page one fodder for media hyperbole, so here’s some perspective to balance the shock horror headlines. A study by Melbourne University found that In the period 2000-2013, 26 people were killed by sharks and 19 by crocodiles. In the same period, 74 Australians died after being thrown or trampled by a horse.

Dr Ronelle Welton, from the University’s Australian Venom Unit, looked at hospital admissions data from the Australian Institute of Health and Welfare, as well as Australian coronial records from 2000 to 2013.

During that period, snakebites killed 27 people, the same number as bee and wasp stings, she told the ABC. Hornets, bees and wasps accounted for 27 deaths, some of them people allergic to stings. I did note that five people died from tick bites, recalling my three-day stay in hospital in 2017 after suffering an allergic reaction.

Australia’s venomous and dangerous animals can and do harm humans, but let’s keep it in perspective; 1,217 Australians died in traffic accidents in the year to March.

Three of the six people in our family convoy experienced extreme reactions to sand fly/midge bites, Our resident nurse inspected our bites and asked if anyone was feeling unwell.

“Irritated, yes. Unwell, no.”

Today we’re arriving on the Atherton Tableland for a family gathering. I expect midge bites will be a topic of conversation:

“Check out Bobby’s welts – poor bastard!”*

*Aussie term of endearment

Strolling Through an Historical Village

A sure sign of advancing years is just how quickly you can identify household objects when visiting a local historical village. In my case, this is particularly so when an historic house has preserved its original laundry – twin concrete tubs, a mangle, a copper, a metal baby’s bath hung on a nail and a flat iron (designed to be heated up on a wood stove). Not to mention wire washing lines, strung between the outhouse and a sturdy tree, held in place by heavy timber clothes props.

We have a passion for visiting historical villages and museums, especially in the outback. I mean the ones in small communities, primarily run by volunteers. Not that there’s anything wrong with The Stockman’s Hall of Fame, Sovereign Hill (the gold rush town at Ballarat), or what used to be Old Sydney Town, But they are more theme parks than keepsakes of communities past.

Today’s photo, which I’ve shared on Facebook before, is my Dad, re-creating his days as an apprentice baker in Scotland. He is seen here in the replica bakery at Miles Historical Village in western Queensland, circa 1984.

The Miles museum, celebrating 50 years in 2021, is an outdoor historical village consisting of a 1900s streetscape, with 36 buildings. They include a bakery, a post office, chemist and general store. The re-launched Artesian Basin Centre houses information on artesian water, Aboriginal history, and land care. There’s a War Museum with displays from all World Wars. The historical village is operated by the Miles Historical Society. Its collections comprise memorabilia donated by families in the district. While the museum was closed for 56 days during the worst of Covid-19, plans are afoot to celebrate its 50^th birthday as part of the Miles Back to the Bush festival in September.

Wherever you journey around Australia, you will find (mainly European) regional history, preserved in historical villages, museums and outdoor displays. An example of the latter is the Machinery and Heritage display at Ilfracombe, between Barcaldine and Longreach. If you have an interest in old farm machinery and the like, it can take an hour or two to stroll along the highway stretch. If it’s a hot day, you can repair to the Wellshot Hotel afterwards for a chilled libation.

There are also few buildings along “Machinery Mile” which house items of local history that would not last in the outdoors.

Further west, in Winton, a visit to the rebuilt Matilda Centre includes admission to the original history museum, which includes a well-preserved settler’s cottage. Like most such houses, where rooms have been set up as they were in the 19^th century, wire grilles keep us from really appreciating the atmosphere. They do safeguard the memorabilia, however.

On the other side of town, Winton has its Diamantina Truck and Machinery Heritage Centre, most of it under roof. We visited on a rare rainy day, so it was a good reprieve from the windy conditions.

This museum costs just $5 to enter. We’re told that most of the prime movers, trucks, fire engines and tractors kept under roof are in going order. All they need (perhaps in 2021), is a street parade, a regional show, a rodeo or camp-draft to show themselves to the public.

Included in the display is a 1976 London cab. Museum secretary Robyn Stevens told me it was acquired and imported by a local donor who has loaned it to the museum. As befits such a rare vehicle, some 20,000kms from its original home, it is kept in an air-conditioned room.

Likewise another prized item – a fully restored, 1910 Talbot fruit and vegetable delivery truck, on loan from the Cassimatis family of Muttaburra. While browsing, I found a Bedford cattle truck made the year I was born (and possibly in better condition!).

The Dawson Folk Museum in Theodore was also a good find, as it is tucked away behind the main street. The museum is housed in a former power station and has a large collection of photographs covering pioneer families, Aborigines, ex-servicemen from World Wars I and II, and modern photographs – all tracing Theodore’s development. Displays include the history of early station families, a pioneer kitchen and bedroom and farm machinery.

Curiously, we could not find one mention of the State’s only Labor Premier of that era, ‘Red Ted’ Theodore,after whom the town is named.

One of the more comprehensive historical villages can be found near the Calliope River park south of Gladstone. We camped beside the river and set off for a look, admittedly a bit late in the day. The volunteers who locked up at 5.30 said we were welcome to come back and finish the tour the next day, which we did.

The Calliope River Historical Village, originally a cattle property, is located on 1.12ha of riverside land.

The village comprises a large number of original buildings, all of which have been relocated over a 40-year period from within a 60km radius.

historical-villages — The Clyde Hotel, Calliope

Buildings include several large country homesteads, a pioneer cottage, the Clyde Hotel (with a current liquor licence), an old school house, a jail, a church (hired out for weddings,) and a woolshed full of machinery and memorabilia. There is also a vintage steam train and carriages to explore.

Secretary Mary Lou Wright told FOMM the land is owned by Council and leased to the Port Curtis Historical Society Inc.

The village holds monthly markets which were put on hold for much of 2020. Mary Lou said that now the markets had resumed, they have been well patronised and everyone had co-operated with the Covid 19 rules. The markets attract many stallholders and big crowds and the revenue is vital to the ongoing upkeep of the village.

A large building on-site is home to the Gladstone Model Rail Group, which maintains an elaborate model railway village. The model rail is operational and open to the public on market days. The group also meets on Tuesday nights for its weekly get-togethers.

If visiting community-run historical villages is something that interests you, open your wallets and purses wide. Admission fees are usually modest (Theodore’s museum was just $2), so make time for afternoon tea, buy a drink, an ice-cream or a postcard. Go for broke – make a donation.

Speaking of donations, I just sent a few dollars to Wikimedia, which is on its annual fund-raising quest. Some 98% of Wikipedia’s readers use this on-line resource without ever contributing to its upkeep. I often use Wikipedia as a source for general information, (e.g.) background on the Miles Historical Village and Museum. Some people help Wikipedia by updating and editing existing pages. Or you can just send them (they suggest $2.75), a modest donation. It’s worth thinking about.

More reading:

Cinemas And The Return Of The Drive-In

cinemas-drive-ins — Photo of Jericho Drive In (the world’s smallest) by Graham Adams

In any learned discussion about cinemas and movies, it does not take long for someone to relate that old Dad joke about two goats.

(Two goats are munching on a spool of film at the local dump). First goat: “What did you think?

Second goat: “I preferred the book”.

It’s a bit that way one episode into the SBS series Archangel, based on the thriller by Robert Harris about an academic who stumbles upon the lost diaries of Joseph Stalin. But I digress.

I don’t know about you, but even with the cinemas open again, I am loathe to sequester myself in a dark, air conditioned room with a posse of strangers. Who knows where they have been!

My main objection to attending cinemas at this point in time was (until I read up on the topic), the dangers of the virus being spread by air-conditioning. Safe Work Australia says there is no evidence that COVID-19 is airborne – it is primarily spread by respiratory droplets and personal contact. All the same, one would hope businesses are taking extra care with cleaning and maintenance of air-con plants. So, I might just be anti-social, then?

The allure of the cinema has been eroded by the variety of in-home cinematic content available in the Cloud, much of it ‘free’. Despite telling ourselves we should be watching the foreign movies available on SBS or new release movies on subscription services, we usually end up binge-watching 50-minute episodes of TV dramas.

The most recent was season five (Prime) of the excellent UK series Line of Duty, about a fictional police corruption unit called AC12. There will be no spoilers here if you only got to season three or four, but safe to say series six is ready to go. Filming was supposed to start on series six earlier this year, but COVID-19 intervened.

Anyone who works in the Arts will know how that sector has been hit harder by the pandemic than, say, the National Rugby League.

The last movie we saw at the local cinema was ‘A beautiful Day in the Neighbourhood’, in which Tom Hank plays the role of TV children’s entertainer “Mr Rogers”. We went with a small group, who met for coffee and drinks afterwards to discuss the movie. Perhaps I’m just a jaded, cynical journalist, but I found agreeing with Empire Online’s opening remark: “It could easily have been twee twaddle…:.:

I hasten to add Empire went on to give the movie a solid review. Based on a true story, the plot involves a magazine journalist Lloyd Vogel, who sets out to do a hatchet job. But he ends up receiving life lessons from the benevolent Mr Rogers. The film is based on a feature article by Tom Junee.

The other place where you can safely go to watch movies is your local drive-in theatre. What, you don’t have one? Research indicates there are still at least 16 drive-in theatres active in Australia, and more than a few ‘pop-up’ venues.

If you are of my vintage, you probably remember the glory days of the drive-in theatre. For those who cannot envisage the concept, a drive-in theatre is an open piece of land, usually on the town’s outskirts. People pay to come in and park their cars and watch movies on a very large screen. In the 1950s and 60s, those attending drive-in theatres attached speakers to their car windows (trying to remember not to drive off without hanging them back on the posts). Today, with FM radio, Bluetooth and streaming audio, it is a cinch to listen to the digital sound track in your car.

The drive in theatre liberated teenagers of the 1950s, an era where it was not uncommon for a boy keen on a certain girl to ask her father’s permission to take her on a date.

The drive-in offered teenagers a rare few hours of privacy at a venue where they may or may not have watched the whole movie. There are only three major drive-in theatres in Queensland: the Tivoli (near Ipswich), the Yatala drive-in at the Gold Coast and the Starlight theatre in Ayr (north Queensland). At one stage in the 1950s, there were 300 drive-ins in Australia, the third largest number in the world, after the US and Canada.

Outback cinemas are essential entertainment in small, remote locations. The Paraburdoo Drive In Theatre in Western Australia recently re-opened after a COVID19 induced hiatus. There is also a drive-in in the mining town of Tom Price.

Last Saturday’s double bill was ‘Moana’ and ‘Jumanji’, and meals were served. Tom Price is a town of 3,000 people, median age 31, which probably explains last Saturday’s kid-friendly choice of movie.

The benefit of a drive-in for families is fairly obvious – as Paul Kelly sings – ‘Mum and Dad up the front and the rest of us snug and tight’.

Developers would tell you it is not the highest and best use of urban land and indeed some former drive-ins have been replaced by big box warehouses, retirement villages and the like. While urban sprawl and competition from in-home digital entertainment has put paid to many, nevertheless, the drive in prevails. Australia’s largest theatre, the Lunar Theatre at Dandenong in Victoria, is a big operation. One of the country’s oldest, it closed in 1984 and re-opened in 2002. Now, with a capacity of 960 cars, its four screens operate seven days a week. Conversely, the smallest (at Jericho in Queensland), has room for 36 cars

The effects of Covid-19 on the entertainment industry has forced entrepreneurs to come up with novel ways of making a quid. There is more than one example of promoters staging drive-in concerts to give punters and artists a safe live forum.

Untitled Group had planned an elaborate drive-in show at Flemington Racecourse in July. A new promotional division, The Drive In, planned a dozen such concerts, each for up to 500 cars. But as organisers state in this link, they had no choice but to cancel as the COVID-19 situation in Victoria worsened. For Australian musicians, unfettered travel is essential to earning a living.

So far, no-one has come up with a scheme in which punters get to enjoy live music while those performing get paid what they’re worth.

We are a bit keen on film festivals, where you can binge on quality movies for up to a week. We may yet head North-West next month for the the Vision Splendid International Film Festival at Winton. The key advantage for those who take COVID-19 seriously is that the majority of movies are screened in the town’s historic open-air cinema. I have attended this festival twice and written about it once.

The festival has been held in late June every year since 2014. In 2020, a decision was made to postpone the event to September 18-26. Coincidentally, the festival was officially launched in Brisbane this week. It remains to be seen if interstate visitors will be allowed to travel to Queensland’s outback by mid-September.

In the interim, this at-risk bloke will confine his entertainment to YouTube music videos, Prime, SBS, ABC on Demand and the NRL (which is entertaining in all manner of unexpected ways).

Keeping your distance – way out west

There’s a misleading headline for you – ‘way out west’. At best we were 400 kms from home at any one time. All the while, though, we were keeping our distance, as Premier Annastacia Palaszczuk encouraged us to do. Regardless, she also said we should to go forth and do tourist things in the State of Queensland. Spend money and support our small towns, the Premier said, while reminding us to meet COVID-19 restrictions. These include keeping 1.5m distance from other humans, washing your hands at every opportunity and avoiding Victorians like the plague. (I added that bit, just for a bit of colour.)

On the first day, we stopped for the few minutes it takes to navigate into the viewing enclosure built so tourists can enjoy the art work at the Yelarbon silos (above). The last time we drove from Warwick to Goondiwindi, this controversial project had not been completed. I include this link not to rake over old coals, rather to showcase the solid regional reporting that is at risk now that so many country news outlets have been shut down or relegated to online-only.

Before Yelarbon, our first stop on a 10-day circuit through western Queensland was Inglewood, where a wind chill made the noon temperature of 12 degrees feel like 5. We stopped at the Shot 2 U cafe for lunch, since our first day out was a day off for the cook. This cafe was serving takeaways and limiting the numbers of people who could be in the building at the same time. She Who Prefers Gluten Free found that this cafe ticked all of the boxes so we bought a container full of gluten-free, dairy-free brownies. It’s like the Premier keeps saying – go out into these small towns and spend some money. That’s not what they are saying in other States right now, but on the other hand, Queensland is/was COVID-free.

On we travelled to the Moonie Crossroads Roadhouse, where we parked our van and adjourned to the lounge for whatever was on the menu, while keeping our distance. The German tourist who works behind the bar happily found and served a piccolo of bubbles to celebrate Bastille Day. Next day, we set off on a short drive to Glenmorgan and Myall Park Botanic Garden. This 132ha property is privately owned and operated by a trust and contains many Grevillea species, bred and cultivated by the Gordon family. They named the best known of these species after their daughters – Robyn, Sandra and Melinda. It’s a wonderful little oasis of native flora and fauna which last year was at risk because of the effects of ongoing drought. Some 300mm of rain in February helped the property bounce back.

On our trek through Moonie, Glenmorgan, Roma, Theodore, Kilkiven, Maleny, Brisbane then home, we were followed in part by three single women of a certain age who decided on a short road trip for much the same reason as we did, ie to ‘get out of the house’. They travelled together in one car, stayed at motels, ate in restaurants or cafes and spotted rare sights like this ‘B-Triple’, on the road. (photo by Sandra Wilson).

Also taking a break from four walls were Brisbane friends we bumped into by serendipity in the small river town of Theodore. Like us, they had decided to get away from the house for a while. Many of their regular activities have been curtailed so as we all know, after a month or two of living under one roof, you get a bit stir crazy. After a spontaneous picnic lunch, and keeping our distance, our friends continued on towards Winton.

In Theodore, where we spent a couple of nights, we spotted four vehicles with Victorian number plates. Theodore has a police station, so you’d have to assume they have been checked.

Nevertheless, anxiety-tainted emotions arose; worries about contagion, proximity and the fear of the unknown. Hypothetical worries maybe, but you never know. Perhaps those with Victorian plates had been in Queensland since March, or earlier.

Some Grey Nomads, particularly those from colder climes, spend a lot of their winter north of the border.

Other travcllers seem to be worming their way into the State and not caring too much about leaving an accurate trail. Last I checked, there were still 185 people ‘missing’ after filling in forms at the NSW/Qld border. They are all supposed to be in quarantine for two weeks, but many still cannot be found. This implies that they used fake registration and/or address and contact details. Police have arrested several people this week, so we will watch the story unfold when they appear in court in September.

Crikey, as we say here in Australia when we really mean WTF. It would only take one contagious person to go into a licensed bar or restaurant and the viral ball would start rolling again.

I wondered if the authorities at border control are scanning drivers’ licences, as routinely happens when you go to licensed clubs. Or would this infringe our civil rights?

On the way to Theodore, we stopped off at the Isla Gorge lookout. If you want to climb down into the sandstone gorge and go exploring in this national park, you need to check in with the ranger, take a detailed map and make sure someone knows what you plan to do.

As it stands, you can pick your way carefully along a steep, unfenced track to a viewing point, but venturing further is only for the brave and thoroughly prepared tramper. You can stay overnight, but you need a permit and must be self-sufficient.

Everyone has their own comfort level when travelling. I spotted a young couple, rugged up and huddled around the camp fire at a Roma farmstay, before retiring to their little dome tent (as temperatures approached 5 degrees. At Wandoan we chatted briefly to an older couple in a little car who were exploring the Showgrounds as a likely place to camp. As we were setting up our caravan (and connecting power), the couple put up a small tent, table and chairs and a portable barbecue. It got to 3 degrees that night, so no, we were not keeping our distance!

If you want to go bush but feel like you need a guided tour with all the creature comforts, refer to Everald Compton’s recent blog). He and his wife Helen recently took time out for a bush holiday. Everald was born in 1931, so those of us who like to go bush with a swag and a nylon tent can excuse him a bit of luxury. They joined an organised tour with Nature bound Australia, a bush touring experience, where guests are ferried around in the operator’s four-wheel drive.

“We chose how many days we wanted to go on tour with them and agreed on an itinerary, after we had interesting advice from them about the many options that rural Australia offers. None of our chosen destinations had yet experienced COVID19.”

“Our itinerary took us on back roads through delightfully small communities and our accommodation was in bed and breakfast homes on farming and grazing properties, with other meals at wineries and quaint cafes in interesting places.”

Everald concluded that the bush adventure proved to be the right antidote for COVID-19 angst.

“A good bush holiday is all about reconnecting to nature and the guiding restorative power it has on our lives,” he wrote.

I’m sure our friends, creating their own versions of a bush adventure, would entirely agree. Just avoid interstate vehicles and, if someone wants to shake your hand, use hand sanitizer before you touch anything else.

Gorgeous gorges revisited

isla-gorgeous-gorge — Isla Gorge photo BW).

This week I promised you one from the archives. The topic of gorges nicely coincides with a visit to Isla Gorge, located in sandstone country between Taroom and Theodore. More about that next week, when we have reliable WiFi.

July 13, 2018: Although I clearly remember rubbishing the concept of a “bucket list”, it appears we may have had one all along, namely a list of famous Australian gorges.

This week’s visit to much-lauded Cobbold Gorge, south-east of Georgetown in Savannah country, turns out to be the 10^th gorge we have visited from a debatable list of 14 “must-do” destinations. Despite its remoteness, privately-owned Cobbold Gorge attracted 11,500 visitors last year and judging by our two days staying in the bush caravan park, they’re on track for another good year.

Most Australian gorges of any merit are enshrined within national parks, with Cobbold Gorge the exception, through an agreement with the Queensland Government where a tourism venture is allowed to exist within a pastoral lease. The Terry family own the 330,000ha Robin Hood station, with 4,720ha set aside as a nature reserve. The family run 4,000 head of Brahman cattle on the property, which they have owned since 1964. They are the second European owners, after the Clark family who owned it since 1900 and the Ewamian, the traditional owners.

Robin Hood station, even today, is accessible only by a partially sealed road from Georgetown to Forsayth and then 41 kms of dirt road. The land in this region is cut off in the wet season (December to March). It’s not difficult to imagine the hard life out here before electricity, before a proper road was formed from an existing bullock track.

Like most gorges, Cobbold was formed millions of years by water scouring out a channel through a basalt cap then down into the sandstone and gravel escarpment. This is a narrow gorge, 2m wide in some places, which gives rise to the theory that it is relatively young.

Last week, we spent a couple of days at Porcupine Gorge, a National Park between Hughenden and The Lynd. Porcupine Gorge is sometimes referred to as Australia’s ‘mini Grand Canyon’ as its canyon walls are wide apart, eroded over millions of years by Porcupine Creek, a tributary of the Flinders River. We took the walk down into the gorge, a mere 1.2 kilometres, except for the 1,800-step uphill return walk. It cost about $25 to stay here two nights – stunning location but a bit short on facilities (hybrid dunnies). You have to come prepared, carrying your own water, food and power source.

By contrast, Cobbold Gorge tours have to be booked and paid for ahead of time and there is no alternative to a guided tour. Now that I’ve seen the infrastructure the Terry family have built there and taken the tour, I have no argument at all with the $92 fee (and $41 a night for a powered site). The facilities (the village also has motel units) and amenities are first-class.

Most of the information here was gleaned from a bit of note-taking and chatting to the guide, Graham, after the tour. The owners invested a lot of money to set up this eco-tour without any security of tenure. It was only recently that the Queensland government came to an agreement that the family would be compensated if at some future point the gorge becomes a National Park. As it stands, the nature reserve, a tract of old growth bush, can also be used for grazing and water can be taken from the Robinson River. No felling is allowed though, so the bush is allowed to regenerate.

We put this landmark on our list when last in the Savannah country circa 2007. We’d bumped into old newspaper contacts at Undara Lava Tubes. They told us they’d just come from Cobbold Gorge and said it was a special place and a must-do experience. It seems this natural gorge became a tourist attraction largely by word of mouth. The first white people to see the gorge were the Terry family’s teenage children who apparently drove a truck far enough in to carry a dinghy to the gorge and go exploring. It wasn’t long before friends and family started asking if they could visit and that led to the establishment of the tourism enterprise in 1994 (200 people visited in the first year).

The tour involves a short journey by four wheel drive bus, a walk up the sandstone escarpment to see the gorge from above then a ride on a flat bottomed boat (powered by whisper-quiet electric motor).

The walls rise up to 30m and at times the gorge is so narrow you can almost touch both sides. Spiders sit patiently waiting by their intricately spun webs. There’s a Jurassic vibe about this gorge, silent and still except for a freshwater crocodile which retreated beneath a rock ledge as we approached.

Last year, Etheridge Shire Council proposed making an application to have 49,000ha of the shire listed by UNESCO as a Geopark. The ABC reported that local graziers were worried what impact this could have on pastoral activities. The proposal caused deep divisions in the shire, but the plan was not progressed.

One could see why Etheridge Shire would want the region to become ever-more attractive to international eco-tourists. The famous Undara Lava Tubes are also within Etheridge Shire, which encompasses an area two-thirds the size of Tasmania. For all its size, the shire has only 1,500 ratepayers and has to rely on grants from State and Federal governments.

Our previous visits to well-known gorges like Carnarvon (Qld), Nitmiluk (Katherine Gorge, NT), Wattarka (Kings Canyon, NT) and Karajini and Widjana (both in WA), have mostly involved independent exploration. Hiking in outback gorge country is not without its risks. You can get lost, run out of water, have a fall or be bitten by a venomous snake.

No wonder Cobbold Gorge asks hikers to sign in and out when exploring the bush tracks. They also have a ‘no-selfie’ rule when standing atop the escarpment! It makes you think how the early explorers got by on horseback carrying water in canvas dilly bags, living off damper and bully beef, perpetually in a quest for the next waterhole.

I expect this won’t be the last gorge we visit on our six-week adventure. There’s Barron and Mossman further north and Cania Gorge on the way back home.

When you visit one of Australia’s remote National Parks, with or without gorges, it is hard not to soak up the timeless influence of the First Nations people. Cobbold Gorge was named after the famous Australian pastoralist Francis Cobbold. The Ewamian tribe were the original inhabitants of this land and there is a section on the gorge tour where guides tell visitors the Ewamian have asked them not to interpret the site or allow people to enter and take photographs.

A few months back, Aboriginal journalist Jack Latimore wrote an opinion piece in the Guardian Weekly, noting that two mountains in central Queensland were to revert to their Aboriginal names.

Jack thinks all Australian landmarks and monuments should revert to their first nation names, but he doesn’t stop there. Boring names like Brisbane, Sydney, Melbourne and Adelaide (all named after British Lords and Sirs), should also be given their native monikers. How about Mianjin instead of Brisbane?

Simpson Desert or bust

Although I find the Australian outback fascinating and a little scary, I am unlikely to join the increasing numbers of people whose bucket list item is crossing the Simpson Desert.

It’s not just that we don’t own a 4WD. I/we lack the essential Australian pioneering ability to fix things that break down. Regardless, thousands of people trek across the Simpson Desert each year, from Birdsville in Queensland to Dalhousie Springs in South Australia.

The actual distance travelled between Birdsville and Dalhousie Springs (about 480 kms), seems like a jaunt compared to the 18-hour journey from Brisbane to Birdsville. The conventional first leg, however, is a comparative dawdle, with its largely bitumen and dirt road stretches between Queensland’s capital and the famous outpost which each year draws tourists and adventurers to the annual Birdsville Races and Big Red Bash.

Crossing the Simpson Desert requires thorough preparation and all the skills to navigate a 4WD vehicle across 1,100+ sand dunes. Most guides to the trek recommend an average speed of between 15 and 20 kmh (on tyres deflated to about 20psi), so the crossing can take four or five days.

There are no services between Birdsville and Dalhousie so you need to carry your own food, water and fuel. The key thing to remember is that traversing sand dunes consumes double the amount of fuel you would use on a conventional road. It is recommended to travel in convoy with friends as back-up, in case something goes wrong.

The convoy strategy paid off for Sunshine coast residents Graham Waters and Evelyn Harris, whose planned Simpson Desert crossing went awry on the notoriously corrugated Strzelecki Track.

The party of seven in three vehicles travelled south to Bourke, Cameron Corner and Innamincka, planning to cross the Simpson from west to east.

About 100 kms south of Innamincka, Graham heard an ominous rattle in the rear of the vehicle. Thinking he had a flat tyre, he got out to find that five of the six wheel nuts holding the wheel to the rear axle of his Ford 4WD had sheared off.

“If the sixth nut had broken off, anything could have happened, so in that way we were lucky,” Graham said.

Graham set about ‘borrowing’ wheel nuts from other tyres in the hope they could keep going as far as Moomba. A seasoned four-wheel drive explorer (expeditions include a three-month trip to Cape York), Graham realised he had to find expert help.

“We were there for two nights, off the side of the road. It’s a relatively busy road, so truckies kept stopping to ask if we needed help.

“We tried going back to Innamincka but the wheel started rattling again, “We also tried to drive to Moomba but the replacement nuts wouldn’t hold.”

In the end, a low-loader came out to take the vehicle to the Santos gas plant at Moomba. After a temporary fix at the Moomba workshops, they drove to Port Augusta.

“It ended up being a $5,000 exercise, including the towing, two new axles and the labour.

“But if you did this as an organised tour, it would probably cost that much at least for each person,” Graham added.

Once the vehicle was repaired in Port Augusta, they travelled north via the Flinders Ranges and Lake Eyre before starting the Simpson Desert crossing at Dalhousie Springs.

“We did talk about packing it in and just going home, but after a night in a B&B in Port Augusta, we got our second wind and decided to keep going.

“We’re really glad we did, because if you slow down and stop frequently, you realise the desert, while it’s stark and windy, is a beautiful place full of wild flowers and birdlife.”

“When you are camped out there at night under the stars all you can hear is the occasional howl from a dingo or a grunt from a feral camel. It’s a magic experience.”

Evelyn knew with one look at the damaged wheel it was a case of “how much is it going to cost to get us out of this situation”.

“Usually Graham can bodgie things up, but this time he couldn’t. It’s all part of the adventure, though. You hope it won’t happen, but if it does you can make the best of it”.

Travelling in convoy also proved crucial for Brisbane couple David Caddie and Margaret Pope while on a Simpson Desert crossing. David was driving his Toyota Prado, customised to include a slide-out camp kitchen, fridge and pantry built in to the back of the vehicle. Unfortunately, at the convoy’s first overnight stop, David found he could not get the rear doors open. They had become jammed with the fine powdery substance known as bull dust.

“Luckily the people we were traveling with love their food so they had plenty”, he said. “At least enough till we got to Alice Springs and a smash repairer used a Spit Water Pressure Cleaner to wash out the dust”.

Peter and Linda Scharf’s 4WD motto is to pack light and don’t be in a hurry. A few years ago, he and Linda took 21 days to traverse the 1,850km Canning Stock Route in Western Australia in a Land Rover with a tent, an HF Flying Doctor radio and basic supplies.

“For us it is all about preparation. You pack light and the things you pack need to have multiple uses. Most people take way more clothes than they actually need.

Peter and Linda did carry tools and spare parts, which came in handy when a shock absorber broke.

“For a long time we travelled without long-range communications. Now we have an HF radio with a range of about 3,000 kilometres.”

But as Peter says, one ought not to rely on technology. “You can only guarantee satellite phone coverage of about 80%. So there are still places, especially in northern Australia, where they won’t work.”

Remote area 4WD traveller John Greig told FOMM the stresses and strains on vehicle chassis/bodies on desert tracks can be enormous.

“These days almost every popular desert crossing, including the Canning Stock Route, is suffering from diagonally opposed holes, opening up in the wheel tracks”.

“This is mainly caused by drivers not dropping their tyre pressures low enough”.

Potential setbacks aside, if you have a hankering to cross the Simpson Desert, the best time is between April and October.

Handy tips abound on the internet, including this one drawn from many sources:

While the Australian desert outback is a beautifully scary and remote place, technology and the capabilities of modern 4WD vehicles have made it far less daunting. Robyn Davidson found fame after her 1977 crossing of the Gibson Desert between Alice Springs and the Indian Ocean. She crossed the 1,700 kilometres on foot, with four camels and a dog.

Her book about one woman’s quest for solitude, Tracks, was subsequently made into a movie starring Mia Wasikowska as Davidson.

In a recent ABC interview, Davidson conceded that doing the same trip in the same way would be impossible today.

“Back then there were no mobile or satellite phones. (You’d) come across a two-way radio every three months – it was how you got messages out of there.”

Davidson, who grew up on a mid-western Queensland cattle station, believes one of the greatest gifts of living in a country like Australia is the physically large open spaces.

She had a fascination with the desert and wonders now if those “those early sensual signals of dry air and the smell of dry grass” of her childhood ran deep.

“Perhaps all Australians have some sense of the desert back there buried in their psyches,” she said.

“This creed of the desert seemed inexpressible in words and indeed in thought”. T. E. Lawrence

All photos (including drone footage) by Graham Waters.