Here We Go Again - Chapter 77 - El Questro to Mary Pools

We are heading into another period of blind spots as far as the internet goes. So I am up early and off to the reception area to finalise as much as I can before we head off.

The helicopter pilots are doing inspections of their craft and sightseers are gathering for their experience of the early morning light from the cabin as the sun brings light to the station and its gorges and plains. While I sit and work, the helicopter relentlessly takes off and lands.

There are places across this great land where a morning shot is preferred, others where night shots seem to give the best outcome. For El Questro though I find it best shot in the more mid day light. Yes there are times when the light from the morning or evening sun will enhance a shot but generally you can get above most vistas here and take the most magnificent of photographs. Having said that, you really need to experience them for yourself. Pictures simply do not do justice to what I am getting to see

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Today is the first of 2 “long” drives for us. There is more than 1,000 kilometres between here and Broome. 2 long chunks followed by a short final stint will do the trick. This “attack” of the distance will culminate in a 2 week stay in Broome.

Heading out, across the water courses for the last time, this trip, I wonder about the hangover that may be being experienced in the Shaun lodge, or whether, regardless of any headache he is already off with his friends on their adventure. The odometer is about to pass 10,000 since we left Smiths Lake at the end of May and we are close enough to half way, and by the time we get to Broome we will be diagonally opposite our home in the east.

The gravel road has been graded again. We have found the vent at the front of the van, if opened allows for positive pressure inside the van during travel. What this does for us is keep the dust out. On the last trip we neglected to open it and we paid the price.

Back to Bitumen, I close the vent. We take pictures against the El Questro sign and bid farewell to a place we enjoy.

This day seems to be a “menagerie” type day. Sightings of fauna abound. Firstly there are the “domestic” animals of El Questro. The donkeys and cattle, the along the way we see Brumbies in the wild, stock horses not far from Warnum, a huge eagle perched on a rock admiring road kill, a flock of black cockatoos screeching their way across the sky, even more “Trevors”, some actually forcing us to stop on the highway as they meander across the road.

Midway along todays travels we come to Bow River. A name steeped in the traditions of Cold Chisel and the Australian Rock genre, the signs here are set in concrete, otherwise tourists may very well pilfer them. There is a car park at one end with a plaque and seating facilities which we park and set out to take the obligatory photographs of the bridge, the signs, the signs and the tourists (us) and the surrounding landscape. Its hot and very inhospitable here. We last only a few minutes before we are back into the welcoming airconditioning of the Cruisers and off again.

Not far from Bow River we encounter Camel Creek, where history suggests we need a photograph to send to Forbsy to remind him (sledge heavily that means) about his call that camels would be seen on our last trip sometime after Katherine. It took until the Nullabor for his call to be answered. He is not about to be able to forget this call. The photograph is a reminder of days gone by.

We are on the main road around Australia but there are times when the wideness of the highway os stunted by a one lane bridge, and by one lane I mean only one lane. No one lane in either direction, just one lane. Road trains and caravaners alike have to be mindful of traffic from the other direction and stop if needed to allow the oncoming traffic to pass.

One such place was just short of Frog Hollow or Purnululu. I see a road train in the distance and I have plenty of time to cross without the road train even having to consider braking but Silver Leader has to make the decision. Keep going and suggest to the truckie they need to give way (there is a give way sign suggesting it) or as Silver Leader does takes the “discretion is the better part of valour” alternative and allows the road train through.

The driver, in this case a woman, is most grateful she has not had to stop the bug rig and get it back into motion, and acknowledges Silver Leader with a friendly wave. Whilst this is occurring we are watching just down the road from the turnoff to Purnululu, taking pictures and relating them to our daughter who has an affiliation with the local school.

We are going to endure another stop at Halls Creek on this trip. Last time we had been there a week due to the break down of the Jeep (Just Enough Engineering Parts as we like to remind Silver Leader). There are 2 (well 3 really) fuel stations in the town. The one on the highway has a huge queue already. They are using only one bowser to satisfy demand on this Sunday. The queue goes around the facility, meaning joining it as we enter town will mean a trek of many minutes to get fuel.

Given our knowledge we break out of the queue and head for one of the back street stations. We note a large troop carrier in the line and wonder how much further it will be by the time we return. It will be easy to spot, it is much larger than any other vehicle in the queue and left hand drive.

Into the back streets and the shop of the mechanic who fixed the Jeep last time. Silver Leader shudders. The bowsers here are not working very well and only dispense $100 per time, but its $100 worth we would not have had if we didn’t stop. The process is painful as those technically challenged at unmanned service stations try to get their cards to work or worse try to rock up and pay with cash.

While i get a quick fill, Silver Leader is behind, so I suggest we will go to the caravan park where we stayed last time and call in on the manager and say hello. Its only a couple of blocks away and more or less on the route back to the highway. Unfortunately the manager is on duty washing toilets so we leave her, simply buying an ice cream and eating until Silver Leader and Rose arrive.

Back to the highway the Troopie has not even made the final turn to line up for the fuel that is available at that station. Surely something can be done about things like this. We saw it at Camooweal and again here where the madness of demand has not manifest itself into some sort of “the mother of invention”. Most require you to pay for fuel before leaving the pump and if (as did we) you might be looking for some refreshments, the queue is at your whim to move when you arrive back to drive away.

Surely some type of mobile payment system could be installed to take a credit card and move the lines along and/or an attendant serving both sides of the line rather than one long line. The mind boggles. You hear complaints about the force of demand but no real thought into how to deal with it.

Out of Halls Creek the topography goes very flat for a long time. Then all of a sudden, as if you have emerged from a volcano crater of millions of years in age, escarpments rise from the tableland.

The drive into Mary Pools reveals all sorts of bird life. The camp is very large, accommodating many vans. Pelicans, Corellas, Kites and crows all fly around here as well as many smaller ones, finches and the like. Although the number of vans is large, there is plenty of room. We find a spot in the sun, wanting the solar panels to do their thing as long as possible, set up and settle in.

Its hot, but the sun is starting to wane, taking the heat with it. In the meantime a nanna nap is on order. The heat, dust and the dry grass is playing havoc with my sinuses.

This is a free camp. On the banks of the Mary River adjacent to an old road bridge. With the un waning and the heat gone from the day we go exploring the river. There are pools of water on the lower side of the old bridge which creates a weir effect to the larger pools on the other.

There is an ominous looking scape away of grass and foliage beside the river bank. I try not to think what may have made it. There is talk of fishing here, but I am not interested. I do need however to produce some videos and this place might give some great back drops.

The nanna nap has not really helped. A small tin of tuna and some salad see me out for the day and I am soon catching zzz’s