We were on our way to Lake Eyre. We weren’t even planning to go there, but just a six word message started a 3,000km detour. The joy of unplanned vagabonding!
Our journey began right on the edge – as far from the red centre as we could get – on the most easterly point Australia at Byron Bay lighthouse.
First compass point down, three more to go
We were heading north to Cape York. But one text message from Geoff’s brother, Chris, to say “there is water in Lake Eyre” – an extremely rare occurrence – and we turned left and west – direction, the aptly named Adventure Way and a 2,500km detour from the original plan.
Adventure all the way
One of our first stops was an unassuming high street with a big claim to fame:
Tenterfield – the town that launched a nation
Tenterfield is credited as being the place where the Australian nation was born, following a fiery speech by Henry Parkes, a local politician strongly advocating unity of the colonies.
Welcome to the birth of Australia
Where it all began – the hall where the federation speech was made
Remembering the start of it all
Such was the persuasiveness of his argument that is sparked the movement which produced the federation just over a decade later.
After Tenterfield there was not so much fire, but water. And it wasn’t long before we were an integral part of nature’s story.
There’s a reason there is water flowing into the Lake
Road trains stop for nothing – even the rain
Our hubs floweth over
Torrential rain at Goondiwindi meant camping was cancelled in favour of a nice dry room at the splendid Victoria Hotel and although we left in bright sunshine the boggy roadsides told a different story.
The imposing Victoria Hotel was a grand sanctuary
Even though it was high summer, the flood waters were right up to the road
And many people thought we were crazy to do the trip in high summer. The signs were everywhere
You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave
But so was the welcome.
Everyone’s a joker
Nindigully Pub is a classic outback institution, miles from anywhere and also closed when we got there. But they opened up and offered a welcome cold beer when we pulled up.
The Nindigully pub – an outback institution
They also had all the gossip despite their remote location – something we found repeated at every stop!
At Bollon the one-street town provides a beautiful free campsite alongside the river.
Free camping by the creek at Bollon
The lovely evening light on the creek at Bollon
Apparently pelicans only appear when the water is set to stay
Cheery neighbours in Bollon
When we arrived the locals had pulled up their chairs to watch the waters as they lapped at the sides of the road. We met Lonnie, the local policeman, general store-owner, gas station manager, camp oven cooking expert and world champion sheep shearer.
Next stop Cunnamulla, where we were told that the road ahead at Eulo was flooded and we couldn’t get through.
Well, there goes Plan A
Eulo normally prides itself on the fact that the 50 residents share the town with 1500 lizards, but on that day it had a different claim to fame.
A proud boast that might not appeal to everyone
It wasn’t just a flooded road, but also a washed out bridge that stopped us and everyone else in their tracks.
Geoff and the locals contemplate the road less likely to be travelled now
The tide is high, but they’re holding on
Here’s one that Eulo missed
We turned around and headed back to Cunnamulla only to discover the roadside show at Bollon had just got better and that road was now washed out too! Our only option for a bridge over the river was 300km north, and so began a 600km detour from our detour. We were starting to appreciate the trials of outback travel.
We were also beginning to really appreciate the generosity of outback communities. At Wyandra the town laid on a gorgeous free campsite, complete with fire pit, solar showers, a camp kitchen and a mob of kangaroos for company.
We vagabonds are very grateful to towns like this for facilities like these
From Wyandra we continued our northern loop around the floods, through Charleville, where appropriately, the summer heat started to crank up again. An average day was topping 40 degrees. Charleville was most memorable to us for the marvelous Clement Wragge, the self-styled “rain-maker” who tried in vain to bring water during one of the worst droughts in the region.
The Vortex Canons in Charleville
The Vortex Canons are still not showing any sign of rain
His fantastic Stiger Vortex rain canons designed to fire gases into the atmosphere that create clouds and therefore rain. The guns failed and the drought continued for many more months. We could have done with a few canon firings that day, as the mercury continued to rise. We stopped counting at 48.5degrees during the day and a balmy 37 degrees overnight, in a nylon tent!
Even the locals look a little frazzled by the heat
The heat shimmer on the road ahead
Next stop Eromanga – a town whose name has made it famous in Japan for meaning cartoon porn or erotic manga.
The least likely place to be a Japanese porn capital, but there are surprised everywhere
It’s dusty, deserted streets didn’t feel erotic, but there was something cartoonish about the Canadian campsite manager who was deeply suspicious of our intentions, claiming no one had passed through the area in a month.
Eromanga maybe the most inland town, but it was looking pretty wet
Onward we pressed heading toward Innamincka. It was not far from this isolated hamlet that two of Australia’s greatest failed adventurers, Burke and Wills met what some would say was their inevitable end. It is a story worthy reading and remarkable in it relentless hopeless endeavour. You can find our short version of it in The Long March to Failure.
Spectacular but threatening skies
Full of stories of disaster we modern-day adventurers were painfully aware of the darken skies above us and set out for Innamincka – which boasts a pub, an hotel and that’s about it. It was also our starting point for the Strzelecki Track.
It was just a clear run into town – or so we thought
Burke and Wills may have planned badly, but even they couldn’t be blamed for the brutal nature of Australian outback in the summer. We soon came to appreciate some of their pain.
There may be trouble ahead
What started out as a hot, clear blue day soon became iron-dark and brooding.
Red sky in the middle of the day – outback warning
The gathering storm
Before long the last bit of tarred road had given way to dirt and we were facing dueling storms – with half the sky blackened with thunder-clattering clouds and lightening bolts and the other a red-earth mass lifted off the ground more than a kilometer high and tens of kilometers wide.
Alone on the road we could see nothing all around, but had no choice but to keep going. Bad as the dust storm was, getting stuck on a dirt road a long way from nowhere in a thunderstorm was worse. The mud-sucking qualities of an outback track are as legendary as the tracks themselves.
The pictures tell the story better than we can
The wind starts to pick up ahead of the storm
The tar is rapidly becoming the dirt
The road is fast disappearing
What few landmarks we had were also fast disappearing
Completely enveloped in the red earth
We finally punched through the dust storm and landed in Innamincka. Geoff poured kilos of dirt out of the air filter and the landlord poured cold beer.
More than a kilometre high and tens of kilometres wide
The line on the horizon are full-grown gum trees, dwarfed by the storm
Thanks for the welcome South Australia
All of that and we still hadn’t even got to the Tracks. But next stop and next story – we will take you down two of the classic Australian outback tracks roadtrips.
