Around Oz the First Time - Chapter 63 - Port Hedland to Barradale

What was going to be an early start is tempered by an emergency light on the dash of the Jeep. This light has been there since the repair and worries us all. 730am this morning Silver Leader is out looking for the Jeep mechanic who can analyse and perhaps diagnose the problem, quickly so we can be on the road. We are aiming for Exmouth and every minute we delay means another potential kilometre short we are going to be.

He is back by 8.00am with a huge smile on this face, all that was required was a reset of the alarm, triggered when the fan belt flew off. He has caught us unawares, we are not quite ready to leave, but in the time, it takes him to hook up, we are. Out the gate for the long haul to ….. the toilets. Everyone is in need of the No #2 facilities, so it seems, and we all stop and avail ourselves. Once finish, Forbsy and I head to the fuel station for fuel. Silver dealt with that last night. The wind is blowing and will be in our faces all day today.

Port Headland is an interesting town and we wished we had more time here. It will be one of the places we will spend much more time at once we head back this way, potentially next year. The salt mines, the ore trains, road trains up to five trailers long and light vehicles scurrying around like ants. We are on channel 18 on the UHF as are apparently one of the mine or port gates. We hear drivers at gates requesting permission or updating at to their positioning at various times.

As we head out of town, we are taken over the railway by a sweepingly large bridge over the railway, which gives a panoramic view of the countryside. Robyn snaps away merrily as we pass over it. We have passed silos painted in the blues and oranges that seem to be the norm here. Passed the salt collecting pools and the mountains they create and the freight trains that seem to go on forever, some with dual locomotives at the start and in the middle as well.

Out on the highway, there is an endlessness of plains. Now and again we pass mines or gas processing plants. This is the Pilbara and one of our most productive, non-agricultural regions in the country. The are river bridges over dried river beds, although now and again, much more often than in the Kimberley, there is water to be seen.

Although there are the plains to occupy the endless kilometres, there are also mountains in the distance. One might almost think we are in the midst of a massive volcano and the plains are the plug, between the edges of the craters. The stick up to break the chance for mirages to set in, some red form the iron ore, others covered in yellow flora which contrast against the alluvial soil underneath. The plants, although hardy must have some sources of water outside the wet/dry seasons of the more northern Australia.

At times the road seems to go straight at the mountains at the end of the plains and then will veer off either left or right, and not always they way you might think. The mind of a road surveyor is sometimes hard to fathom.

Each “crater” brings a difference in the flora, either denser, sparser or simply different flora. Not far from Port Headland in the town of Karratha. We were going to have a stop here, but with losing so much time to Jeep breakdowns, some of the “lesser” attractions’ viewings have now been scrapped. In fact, because it is off the highway, or has been bypassed in days gone by, all we see is a sign pointing right which we ignore – this time!

Still we travel from crater to crater, seeing perhaps what Lang Hancock saw in this land those many years ago. On one side the hills are bright red, on the other they are deep maroon. In one place we can see the shape of a crane on the end of the hill, eating into it in the endless chase for the red ore.

Like I said the wind is blowing, what might normally be a low 20 litres per 100 kilometres today is 30, and I don’t seem to be able to stem it by slowing down at all. We are a seven tonne rock being forced into a 50kph wind.

Whim Creek, another spot we were aiming to spend some time is passed by. At least you can see the pub and the van park from the road, along with what looks to be a mine behind it or a mining camp. So, we push on, the relentless driving, the hardest part of this type of holidaying. I can see why people think there is nothing here, because if you are driving and concentrating on the road, white line fever could take you over.

But we are gawkers, people who allow our minds and our eyes to wander, in fact its ne of the reasons I don’t like being a passenger especially when Robyn is driving, because of her need to look and see. Not so much with the caravan on though, that requires attention, especially in the wind, or with road trains passing, but if we are simply driving around it can be a bit disconcerting, but having said that, her driving record is clean, unlike mine.

We come over yet another rise and the entire land opens up in front of us. It is breathtaking. I would love to stop and take several panoramas of this vista, but we are chasing time and fighting the wind. The fuel consumption is at an unacceptable 30 litres per 100 kilometres.

Its lunch time and we are lulling into the Fortescue Roadhouse. We are making good time but it is costing us in fuel consumption. Filling up and then parking away from the bowsers, to then head into the shop to see what the fare is like. The premade sandwiches look particularly appetising and I grab two, while Robyn grabs one and orders a cup of white tea. We find a place to sit and the tea comes.

The tea is uninspiring, so my wife suggests. How do you stuff us tea? Evidently you do it by using the frothed milk you previously used for someone’s coffee and add it to the tea in order to make “cappateo”. Thankfully the sandwiches live up to the look and are very tasty. Robyn is unable to finish the tea.

Back on the road and the vista has changed again. The sweeping plains have given way to escarpments and hills, then it opens up again t the vastness of plains with the relief of hills here and there. In the distance there is another “range” being eaten away by mining, we can see what appears to be an auger at the end of a long hill, working the ore towards the trucks, either road or rail.

All of a sudden there is a big sweeping bridge and I think to myself why build such a structure over the river when in flood the approaches will be under water in any event. Then I see the reason, we are going over a road, specifically made for the mine trucks. This road is as wide as a four lane highway (including the median) and we see the trucks moving the ore to the rail head carrying huge amounts of ore each load.

The wind is affecting the fuel economy of the smaller tanked Jeep than it is the Cruisers and Silver Leader needs to top up to make it to Exmouth. It doesn’t help that he had to do some running around in Port Headland before we went. We pull into a Manutaria Roadhouse for him to refuel for the dash. We wait while he refuels, leaves the car, goes and pays, returns to his car and then Rosalie decides she needs to use the conveniences. Confusing really, given they are the instigators of this big drive today.

Taking us back to the road, and as normal we all pull out together, looking behind us I see a truck bearing down on us quickly and I radio for the leaders to plan the foot. On average we would not have needed to do this as most of the trucks we have encountered have been handing the road at about 95kph. This one however is travelling well over the speed limit.

We bunch, slow, and let him past. In a few kilometres the truck is in a parking bay changing drivers and the older driver gives Silver Leader the bird. We suspect they will be back on our hammer shortly, and we were not wrong. I muse on the radio I trust we did not create a Cary Loftin, the driver of the truck in the Denis Weaver movie Duel, and we will be into a death race with the truck shortly.

A little further along we get another Malcolm in the Middle as I have let the others get ahead in a bid to reduce fuel consumption. He is on his radio and we let him know that the truck will be coming, we think. Not long after I see the truck closing in my rear-view mirror, and I radio ahead. I have caught the new “Malcolm” and ready him for the truck to pass. It all happens quickly, and the Fasttrack Truck is on its way at something like 105kph as opposed to my sometimes 80kph.

Forbsy notes the shadows on the cliffs of the hills ahead suggest its “beer o’clock”. Unlike yesterday I am feeling OK and could handle a few more kilometres, but I am out voted and we pull into a free camp at Barradale. Here there is much land to set up. There is even a dump point for the toilets. We don’t even bother lowering the annexe, the wind has increased markedly. I am lucky to have made it here at 29 litres per 100 kilometres.

Tomorrow there will be more of this for a little while before we turn north and head to Exmouth, but for now we are here, and we will be cooking in our van. Robyn has ensured sausages have been thawing during the day and we cook these with potatoes and have some salad. The TV I cannot get to work but for some reason, unlike in Queensland I can make the Foxtel Go work and we are able to while away the time before retiring.

We have done 560 kilometres today, which along with the 700 plus yesterday, has added significantly to the trip odometer, which now reads just over 9,000 kilometres. Silver Leader wants to leave early in the morning, for what reason is unclear, we are only two and a half hours out of Exmouth and change over would be after 10.00am, so we would be there early. Perhaps he knows the wind is going to be an even more difficult aspect than it was today.

We can only wait and see.