Around Oz the First Time - Chapter 6 - Bowenville Reserve to Mitchell

The night sky was cloudy and by the time I got up there was sufficient light to destroy any chance of a Gugurmin shot (the Celestial Emu). I did however get a shot of the Saucepan (Orion). We are on walkabout, and the stories of the elders about the Great Emu and the moon chasing the sun will bely any chance of a good shot this week. The clouds don’t help either.

As the light overtook the darkness, we wandered along the creek adjacent to the park. The windless serenity of the backed-up water and the chill of the morning air made for a lovely time on the land. I could not resist taking a shot of Robyn under a curve sign as yesterday we had a Harry Chapin “All My Life’s a Circle” and the analogy was not lost. The sunrise was not quite as spectacular as the sunset, but only just.

The call of the water became too much and I had to extract the fishing gear from the van and head to the creek. Yellow belly and Cod available, that should be enough for a good fight if a hookup can be achieved. Unfortunately, the snags here are savage. Not that the ones in the water were any trouble, for the first lure which I managed to put into a tree well above the water. Creek 1, Jeff Nil and no lure had hit the water as yet. The second a Red Celta fared a little better but found an unforgiving snag after a few casts. Creek 2, Jeff Nil.

Trudged back to the van for a reload on lures. I picked a small bibbed lure that seemed appropriate for the creek and species. Flicked up against snags along the creek, mocked by the odd jumping fish and the swirl of yesterday’s platypus (again camera not ready) until finally the creek took the lure. Creek 3, Jeff Nil. I know when I am beaten, besides my stomach tells me its breakfast time. Perhaps we will not tell the others about this foray.

The trip to date has been hectic. It seems that relaxation must happen at the same speed as normal business life. We drive, we settle in, we eat, we sleep. Can’t wait until we actually have a day where we stop and really smell the roses.

Total distance travelled today is 380km. We have our first encounter with a road train from behind. Silver Leader gets us all to slow and get almost off the road and we allow the massive vehicle to simply go on his way.

Research had found there were artesian spas in Mitchell. Silver Leader and Forbsy are keen for a dip. As we enter the town a suitable spa is located, and the boys are off. Robyn and I go in search of a few supplies. Other research earlier in the trip suggests we will not be able to take much of the fresh fruit and vegetables into the Northern Territory. The biggest issue will be the limes harvested from the tree at home. Picked for a friend who stayed with us in the days before we left, they never picked them up. I am not a beer drinker and Robyn only imbibes on very hot days and then only ever 1. The solution – wodka. So we need a bottle shop. We also need a few bits and pieces.

As fortune would have it, the spa is at one end of town and the grocery shop (and the bottle shop) are at the other end. So, Robyn and I set off in search of them. Perhaps I can find the hardware bits and pieces I need for the barbeque as tonight we are looking to have salt and vinegar chip encrusted schnitzels.

The hardware shop is of no joy and the school rush is on at the grocery store but everything is jovial and we get the provisions required and head back. Along the way we catch up with the others having spa’d and now refreshed with news that there is a $15 roast on at the spa tonight with free pick up and delivery from the park. The chicken will last in the fridge a day – it’s cryovaced.

Mitchell will be a “free” camp, although a donation is requested to keep the water etc up and going. It seems the least we can do. On arrival the girls go searching for the toilets. While they are away we muse there is no point dropping the legs or unhitching as the longer they are gone the more chance we will have to move closer to the amenities. A couple of young girls on horses ride by. I ask them where the toilets are and they ignore me. Perhaps it is stranger danger or perhaps they simply did not hear me. I ask again and they somewhat reluctantly point in the direction the women headed. They canter off after their encounter with the “grey nomad”. Apparently, their youth has perhaps taken away their innocence or the spirit of the country. I trust they will not have any need to not feel safe ever.

The girls are on the way back and yes they are checking out sites for a move. Wandering like Brown’s cows across the dusty, dry camp site, they finally arrive back with the good and the bad news. Yes, the toilets are a long way away but no there doesn’t seem to be a suitable place for all three vans to sit together. That settles it we will circle the wagons (make a U share really) and settle in for the night.

We wander for a short walk and strike up a conversation with the van closest to the weir, joking about whether he had sussed out the fishing as yet. A very keen fisherman evidently, he was quick to educate us (in the nicest possible way) of the rules in Queensland surrounding fishing near weirs. Evidently you cannot fish from most weirs in Queensland. Some you need to be at least 100 metres from others, 200 metres and the inspectors are savage if you are caught. Always best he suggested to ask before wetting a line.

The pickup for the spa roast turns up promptly at 6.00pm. The driver is a wealth of knowledge about the town. The roast night is just as efficient. You order (there are 2 choices, lamb or chicken), you sit and almost immediately the dinner is served. No mucking around here.

Next to us is a table of nomads heading the other direction. We strike up a conversation and hear of places to go and things to see as a must. We add them to our list. Now with King Ash Bay taken out of the itinerary we will have 3 days to either slow down or take a different path. We are especially interested in their comments around Derby, Broome and Mount Tom Price.

Dinner is completed in an hour and we are back on the bus and back to the park dodging the kangaroos along the way. Its only a short drive but we see at least a dozen “grasshoppers” or “woolly jumpers’ “.

Today we had run into what I feel is your worst nightmare on the road. The call telling you a loved one is in hospital. My second son Julian has been admitted with what seems like meningitis. As a schoolteacher he works hard and gets run down easily although he is a very fit customer. It doesn’t help that his entire family have been struggling with lurgy’s this season and they are all presently sick. His temperature evidently spiked into the 40’s and he was rushed to the hospital. Being more than 1,500 kilometres away you feel useless and on edge. His wife is beside herself and we are not there to offer a family hug. It’s tough. It will be something we will have to deal with and as with anything on the road, we are nothing if not flexible and if we had to an airport could be found and we could make it back if we had to.

Not the way to end the day but in hospital he must be in the best hands. His mother, his wife and I let a few of my mates know so they are available if anything goes awry, are near.

Today we had clocked past 1,000 kms on the road. There are many more to come. The trip to the toilet block is too much for Robyn and she commissions and tests the ensuite toilet. Bed and sleep come quickly.