Here We Go Again - Chapter 45 - Karumba to Burke & Wills Roadhouse

I have woken up under the weather. My nose is all stuffed up and all my joints ache. At least the nose clears with a good blow of it. The joints might be a different story. Bloody Forbsy – its all his fault, he was sniffling last night and yesterday.

We are leaving today and there is work to do. 

First thing is to empty “my little friend” as Forbsy puts it. The effluent repository requires dislodgement, walking to the dump point, emptying, rinsing and replacing in the spot. Forbsy uses the term “my little friend” due to the times where the handle is used to walk the full container along. I cant use it here because the container is not full (so I can carry it) and the road to the dump point is not conducive to its small wheels.

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Anyway, its done and replaced as required, meaning we may not need to empty again until we are near a proper dump point. Now for the other bits and pieces like the legs. Robyn has put on a quick load of washing so I cannot remove the water or power inputs until the washing machine finishes.

There is still plenty to do in the meantime. The fishing gear needs to be stowed. I enquire with Silver Leader as to what if any fishing might be done this side of Darwin. As the only opportunity might be light gear lure fishing, I pack all but one rod away. This will take any pressure off Robyn being annoyed with rods rubbing together by her ear.

The washing machine finishes, the rest of the bugging out procedure continues until I am ready to hook up. I have everything away and locked up but then realise I have not released the chocks or the leveller. This I do and reopen all the doors and restack them with the missed items.

Robyn feels like a drive and the road between here and Normanton we have traveled already and know it not to be overtaxing on a novice driver. Getting the caravan to the road from its location takes a little maneuvering but it comes out the first time and out of the park I pull over and we set up Robyn to drive. It is just shy of 100 kilometres to Normanton so she will get a good go. After that we are back into roadworks and single lane bitumen sections. I would rather negotiate myself than have her panic with the onset of a road train or roadworks.

The road here is wide and pure, with very little in the way of bumps to worry Robyn. There are trios of Brolgas seemingly at every turn. I look to open the skylight but Robyn wants little or no distractions as she concentrates on the road.

Early on we pass a motor home where the “one job” principle had been sadly showing. Like a periscope the TV antenna protruded like a sentinel to all who pass. They are only a few kilometres out of town so we do not attempt to annoy them with reminstrations, in an attempt to alert them to the issue.

There are calls of Trevor’s on the right. Only issue is they are on the left. Forbsy misses them but I sledge Silver Leader mercilessly about his dyslexia. I suggest the left is the side Rose is on. He takes the comments on, and in future will call Rose’s side or his side.

The drive to Normanton is uneventful except for the vast changes in the scenery. At first we are driving through the vast salt pans of the coast, treeless like the Nullarbor with areas of green moss like vegetation. All of a sudden we are in trees. Firstly stringy low ones then  silver green leafed larger, gum like ones, fading into more green acacia like growth then back to vast plains.

The vistas change abruptly it seems as we seem to be looking at one type then the next moment another.

Soon enough we are in Normanton and the decision is made to top up the fuel levels. Silver Leader goes in search of a service station. He finds one, only because the the line of caravans almost blocks the road. This service station is under renovation. They have closed off the truck stop area where we may have filled quickly, reduced the main bowser delivery area to one lane and have a waiting line which takes almost half an hour to traverse.

Robyn and I swap seats in the line so as not to slow us down once we get going again. As we approach the bowsers two cars appear to be attempting to cut into the line. In fact they are circling around the queue to the blocked off lane, something we cannot do in any event because the awning protruding from the main building is too low. 

Just before we get to the fuel point, one of these cars is trying to breach the queue to get back out onto the highway. Wait a minute, we know those people, they are the family we met at the pub last night. The vehicle in front of us, a Cruiser and a large boat decide not to partake of fuel, we do not immediately close up and allow our friends to pass. Had it been anyone else the tables may have turned just a little differently.

Now at the bowser I select the fast fill pump while another queue jumper is on the other side. Robyn waits a the door to the service station ready to pay and as I put the pump nozzle away I joke with the adjacent customer that we should now continue on to cleaning windscreens etc while the queue waits. He laughs and suggests he has seen it. 

We both move quickly allowing the next ones in.

The others are down the street. We pass them and move to an area where we can park with safety. Apparently some quick shopping is underway. As they hit the road I am offered the lead for the remaining 200 kilometres to Burke & Wills Roadhouse.

The road from Normanton is hinted as being like the road from Croydon with single lane parts and roadworks. It is not long before I am on the UHF telling the others of the road thinning ahead and the vehicles that are coming towards us, requiring one wheel to be on the red dirt, inflicting lots of dust as the 2 vehicles pass.

Then there is the roadworks. If the vehicles were not dirty already, they were about to be caked in mud. The roadworks included a water truck keeping the dust down. The water sprayed so hard from the truck it engulfed the entire Cruiser and Van, immediately turning whatever dust may have been on then to mud. Add to that the mud created by the adding of water to the red dust and soon all vehicles were several kilograms heavier carrying said mud.

Like the trip from Croydon to Normanton the road widens, it thins, widens and thins. The areas where road works are occurring seem to be almost complete as the dirt roads are as smooth as the bitumen. In some places, even smoother.

A number of kites are feeding on some roadkill. As they disperse one almost collides with the van. Silver Leader close enough to see what is happening suggests there might be a brown stain across the top of the van, so close was the encounter.

Our mutterings on the UHF are mirrored by other travellers, and as we come close enough we can hear their conversations, and often join in. A trio of women drivers come towards us and their leader pipes up suggesting to her colleagues, we three with a lime green van at the front – last time I looked our van was bright yellow – what has the red dirt done to us, will require them to slow significantly. I laughingly comment about her colour blindness and everyone gets a giggle.

A little further on there is a conversation about the temperatures endured at Birdsville last night. We thought we heard temperatures that might be considered hot when in fact on correction we found them to be talking 4 to 5 degrees as in cold. We shivered just thinking about it and were glad we were aiming to head north rather than south from here. Forbsy on the other hand who is leaving us soon to head home for his daughter’s wedding suggests the Ugg Boots and the possum gloves might get another work out before he gets home

As the distance to the Roadhouse diminishes quickly, I slow expecting to see a queue. I am not disappointed but the queue is not to get in, its for fuel, something we do not need at this stage. We all safely park away from the fuel queue and I wait in the Cruiser as Robyn tends to the booking. 

She comes back and says we have a powered site if we can find one. Strange I think, but I go with the flow and head into the parking area. Luckily one of the staff is riding around on a quad bike and he directs us to a suitable space with power and water adjacent. Forbsy circles behind, Silver Leader beside after we negotiate a less than social distancing space between us and the van we will be neighbours with for the night. Pat comes out of his van (they are just parking too) and helps me direct the van as far back as possible. The sun is in a most inopportune spot creating glare across all my vantage cameras.

We are not fully bugging in tonight. The van is almost perfectly square as it is so we decide thats good enough. I hook up the power and the water (with only one tap to share between Silver Leader and I, he digs out his double adapter) and we are all ready settled in. I thank Pat and Inaka for their assistance and ask if they would like some fish. They jump at the chance and I give them a couple of the large bream still in the freezer from Gladstone. They are “tickled pink” at the gesture, we are happy to have a little more space in the freezer.

The internet is much better and more stable here than at Karumba. I manage to download the next version of the tax preparation program and install it. I was prompted to do this by 2 messages received today asking if family members could lodge their returns ASAP as they expected healthy refunds. It takes time but the stable internet means no issues with the project. In time I have all the software I need to lodge income tax returns for this year for my clients.

This done, Robyn and I walk to explore the area. The Roadhouse is just that, a shop beside a fuel dump when all is said and done. There are a few Knick Knacks, shirts, hats etc in the shop but basically its a fuel and food stop. We walk through the shop to a large undercover area and find Pat and Inaka reclining on some seats simply enjoying the quiet. We ruin it for them but they are oK with that asd we talk of our adventures.

They are going the opposite way to us. Tomorrow they will head into Normanton and on to Karumba, whilst we are on to Gregory Downs. Their stories of Covid inspired madness are mind blowing and make us wonder if we are to be able to get to where we want. They temper the distractive anecdotes with the description of wonderful views and experiences.

I grab a drink for Robyn and I and rejoin the conversation. In time Silver Leader and Rose join us, as does Forbsy. We had wondered if he had fallen asleep in that most comfortable of chairs he purchased. He hadn’t but didn’t realise we had gone exploring

Its dry here, very dry outside the garden surrounding the store. The dust and dirt is everywhere but the staff keep the grass green near the shop even if we are on a large brown dirt paddock. All is forgiven when we have power and water on tap.

We talk to our daughter before retiring, another shortish trip tomorrow with free camping at the end.