Here We Go Again - Chapter 46 - Burke & Wills Roadhouse to Gregory River

Some days you simply cannot win.

Burke & Wills Roadhouse is an “oasis” in the middle of nowhere. A junction in the road for those who want to turn north to Karumba. It has its own rodeo yards and I am sure that during the rodeo season this place absolutely rocks. But for now we are in the midst of a pandemic which has seen an end to overseas travel for the foreseeable future and now a more than steady flow of all different type of vans and motorhomes form lines, either for fuel or looking to rest.

Our rent was “interesting” to say the least. We were by  no means the last into the paddock beside the road house but we were ushered well into the back corner. Our site was beside 4 markers surrounding what appeared to be a hole filled with blue metal. What we didn’t realise (even when the marshall was aiding our set up) was this was an old sewerage pit.

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The smell had permeated all night on and off. The Silver Schoolies in us thought the best way to ride the van of the smell was to use the exhaust fan. WRONG!! All that did was to drag more of the stench in through the lower vents. Bad mistake which we had to deal with all night. Robyn had it more than I because my CPAP machine forced filtered air into me.

The morning sees us up early and with a need to remove ourselves from the park as quickly as possible. The others are of the same mind.

We are a little inland now and the evenings are much cooler. Its 19 degrees by the time we get going and because of the early start there is still plenty of wildlife still out on the road. It must have rained in the recent past. Where the roadside verges have been mown there is what the farmers might term a good deal of green pick, whereas the paddocks are filled with much longer dry grass.

This green pick drags in the kangaroos and we see a significant number, something we are yet to see on the roads we have travelled. There are kangaroos of all sizes and because of the mild temperatures, they are yet to find shade during the heat of the day. This of course means there is quite the “corridor of carnage” along the road. 

Carcasses, most with accompanying birds of prey litter the road and the roadsides. From time to time Silver Leader drifts to the other side of the road to miss larger animals for fear of damage to his under carriage. This is especially required where one of the road kills is a sizable boar.

We have only a short drive today but the vista changes constantly. There are areas of dense bushland containing the silver leafed gum trees, other areas where the acaricia are in flower and they dominate the view, the all of a sudden you will be in a treeless area of grazing land where the grass that had forced the kangaroos to the road, is the only vegetation in sight.

Again there are distances of single laned bitumen followed by “normal” road and then back to the single lane again. Thankfully the “normal” outdistances the single lane. The single lane however does have its issues especially as we found out today, other drivers do not see the need to slow when one tyre is in the dirt creating dust curtains, blocking the view. One such experience saw yet another stone chip for SIlver Leader who already resigned to replacing his windscreen, verbally abuses the driver on the radio. I suspect the driver may not have been listening.

Gregory Rover or Gregory Downs depending on which map you might be looking at is a little larger blip on the road way than Burke & Wills but only just. Again its on an intersection. In one direction you have Burketown, the others Adels Grove and Camoweal. There is a well known free camp here. A pub you can walk to from the free camps, one below the bridge down on the Gregory River and another an overflow, up on the main road.

The pub not only does food and drink, it serves as the local fuel stop. But it is not the only establishment in town. Across the road from the pub is a public works depot, set up with a set of public toilets (without locks on the doors ladies) and a dump point for effluent release. The northern side is the racecourse/showgrounds/rodeo venue, on the southern is a little coffee shop offering the ebay coffee in the gulf

Murray’s Pace, run by Murray and his wife have an expresso machine and a few other “essential” items they sell to passers by. But by far, the most memorable item they sell are their fresh baked muffins, directly from a hand made oven adjacent to the shop. Murray’s is the place meet in Gregory River. There is quite a queue waiting for service. The red checkered tablecloths adorning the several tables are well weighed down with customers’ drinks and food.

We find Murray’s place after settling into the free camp. Under the bridge and down on the river, it should be an idyllic spot. But its full. Not completely but it is bustling with wans and people. Forbsy and I settle on high ground spots, where we should get adequate sunlight during the day to recharge our batteries. Silver Leader, leaving nothing to chance, has parked in the middle of the area. He has not even uncoupled even though we are expecting to stay here 2 nights.

The old road bridge allows access back into the “township”. It is along here we see the overflow section has bins and water. The water will be an essential stop as we leave intro days time. We walk up to the pub and beyond to Murrya’s place. I know what we will want to order. Robyn will have a cup of white tea and a muffin.

I am just about to join the queue when I get “the tap” on the shoulder. I turn around and standing right in front of me are friends David (Johnno) and Kim Johnson. I had been wondering where they had gotten to. I had been messaging them for some time knowing they might be in the area but had had no response, so I thought we had missed them. They are here in the township of Gregory River as luck would have it, only for the coffee and muffins and only off their site for the morning. They have been “free camping” at a site some 22 kilometers away.

This is amazing, running into them in such a remote area. It will be great to catch up and see how they “attack” retirement and wandering around this mighty land.

That aside I need to join the queue or morning tea will become lunch. Murray’s Place is a small “hole in the wall” (if there can be such a thing in Gregory River) establishment. Its nestled behind some trees offering shade to some alfresco tables between it and the highway. The verandah approach is short but stepless leading to a small landing where native finches play amongst plants, book shelves and microwaves.

Murray’s wife continually bakes muffins as demand requires, whilst Murray makes the beverages. They serve pies and act as a semi “general store” having only the very basic of provisions for sale. Even then we are dealing with packaged goods like biscuits rather than bread, milk etc.

I order the muffins and a cup of tea for Robyn and settle into a conversation with Murray as he attends to warming pies and making coffees. Supply and demand run this shop. They are hugely reliant on a truck which arrives but once a week. They also do a “tip run” of aluminium cans once a week and use that trip to create bi-weekly supply runs, although perishable goods can be tricky for them. He loves the conversation. She loves to cook, and its not just muffins. There are preserves and sauces on sale. She has recycled used jars for the sauces and it shows, but no matter, they seem to be well sealed.

Murray also talks about “getting away” from time to time. When that happens the shop simply closes and there is no great worry. They are country folk. When they are here, they are here. When they are not, they are somewhere else. Simply philosophy really. The transients know, no different. If you are here for a day or a week, you use the resources available. The hotel which acts as a service station can cover most things. The luxury of Murray’s Place is just that – a luxury, a talking point and a place to be when we are here.

To sit under a tree in the shade at a table with a red and white checked table cloth eating a freshly baked muffin whilst watching the world go by, is a piece of Nirvana here. Another batch of muffins is required and Murray’s wife is at the outdoor oven, purpose built to be adjacent to the shop and big enough to, not mass produce, but manage demand. If you were to ask them what is Utopia, they would simply reply “patrons at the tables”

We sit and fulfil their dreams while taking a moment fulfilling part of ours.

The plan is to “find” Kim and Johnno later in the afternoon and do some more catching up, but for now the muffin has us trapped in its web.

The instructions to get to the campsite of Kim and Johnno were easy. Drive out of town, take the first right, drive for 22 kilometres, turn right, travel all the way to the river and turn left, “you will us – you cant miss us”. Recipe for disaster if ever I heard it.

Having said that, there were extra inclusions. There is a road just before our turn with a tractor tyre on the side of the road – dont take that one, and the station sign on our turnoff has blown off its mountings and is sitting on the side of the road pointing to the left – you go right.

Off we go, Robyn and I, the others deciding to stay and ready themselves for the trek to Adels Gorge tomorrow. The first turn is simple. You can see it from Murray’s Place. 2 deviations in the road, then its straight, and its straight for an awfully long time. I am watching the odometre like a hawk and the road more intently for “obstructions” (although being the heat of the day no animal in their right mind is moving).

The kilometres clock up and then the tyre on the side of the road, we must be getting close. There is a deviation in the road and all of a sudden the “sign” heading the turn off, just as the plan suggested and right on 22 kilometres too, emerges. We turn right onto a dirt track and head for the river. 

The track is not difficult and by no means a 4wd one. We head down until the GPS suggests we are in the water. When will there be a fork in the road where we can turn? Eventually we see other vans and what appears to be said fork. Only a couple of vans later, and they are reasonably close together along the waters edge, but not so close as to be anything like the “free camp” back in the town, there are Kim and Johnno, lazing in their chairs watching the water go by.

No need for apprehension. The instructions were clear and the result proved it.

Unlike us, they are here to enjoy the moment. Rather than race from “attraction” to “attraction” in search of seeing, they are here to “experience” what the country has to give. Unlike us their focus is “time” rather than “on time”. Their closest neighbour is 100 metres away, whereas in the town free camp our neighbour is adjacent rough we can almost touch them.

Its a different world. Need to cool down, then simply walk to the water and immerse yourself in your own private piece of the river. Yes people wander past but not in the throngs the masses congregate in the towns. Here your neighbours might wander past, or drop in for a chat, but basically you are left to your own devices.

Their setup is simple. They have been here a week yet want for nothing, especially power, the bane of our free camping experiences.

The time goes all too quickly. The key treats we have brought to enhance the experience are consumed in an afternoon tea extravaganza and not wanting to drive in the dark and negotiating moving stock etc, we head back to the town, armed with stories of “real” free camping. Stock is moving and we are forced to stop as a line of cattle meanders across the road. The kangaroos are also on the move but none venture into our path.

Back in the free camp, the area is now full. The overflow area is not quite full but the impact on the “local” means grabbing a cold one means yet another queue wait.

There is all sorts of personal pressure to simply “up stumps” and head back out to the river and join Johnno and Kim, put on ourselves by the crowds. Discretion is the better part of valour and we settle in, safe in the knowledge we have lots more to see, and tomorrow brings another adventure.