Here We Go Again - Chapter 99 - 80 Mile Beach to Mable Bar

Last night it was decided we were going early and I have some work to do in the area where the internet is healthier than in the park. We, though we got going early – all our neighbours are gone before we arise. Sitting like a beacon near the end of the row of sites we are the only ones left.

We take the virtual kick in the bum and get moving. Out the park well before Silver Leader and Rose we are at the junction of the gravel road in and the highway, where we can spend half an hour or so, “catching up”. An old friend has asked me to provide an online reference which should take only 5 minutes.

Either her idea of five minutes or the information from the employment agency is rubbish. The questions asked, require in depth answers of my experiences with her and her interaction with clients. Just as well Silver leader and Rose are going to be “half an hour” behind us, there are not only these questions to answer but several others in the email stream that could do with “nipping in the bud”.

It ends up being an hour before Silver Leader and Rose arrive, a Godsend in the general scheme of things but far behind the intended time. They will have only just made it out just before the 10.00am limit. Sometimes they play things close to the wind.

First stop today will be the Pardoo Roadhouse. This roadhouse is one of the must stop places if you are in the area. The quirkiness of the offerings is amazing. The setting of this place as a “rest stop” was not a coincidence. On our last trip past this place, we left with all manner of bric a brac which now adorns the man cave bar at home and I am eager to find another iconic piece.

The answer almost “falls” on me. Before we left on this trip I had purchased a number of tin mugs, supposedly the largest available. They hold about 500 millilitres of liquid. Here hanging on the wall are mugs that can only be described as buckets. I must have one.

Should I purchase 2? 

No, there is no way I should encourage others to do what I intend this purchase to perform. In any event I purchase a premade cheeseburger which manages to fit in the mug. In the Cruiser Robyn giggles at the size of the mug and assists in the consumption of the cheeseburger which is surprising filling. 

Pardoo Roadhouse – put it on your list of must do’s when visiting this area. I would guess you won’t leave without a piece of amazing stuff or a piece of food, premade for your ease of getting in and out in the quickest possible manner.

Not far up the road we pass the Pardoo irrigation Area. Again on Eighty Mile Beach there are homestead stay opportunities here but mostly this working farm is a green oasis in the middle of the north west. Large haystacks, irrigation booms spreading water across green fields of cereal crops and stocks of cattle abound. Should we return this might be a place we would stay as a potential option other than Eighty Mile Beach Caravan Park, with more options than just fishing on the top of the tide.

From the moment we turn onto the Marble Bar Road we are accosted by road trains. Pink, grey and white monsters with four trailers, conveying ore to port for export. It seems like every kilometre or so, we pass another one. A wave to drivers, in most cases gets a return gesture. The differing colours marking the different contractor performing on behalf of their particular miners.

The pink ones apparently contract to Gina Reinhart and are owned by a woman who has built quite the empire servicing this and other clients.

A fuel road train passes and is dwarfed by the ore carriers, having only 3 trailers in tow.

Marble Bar is reportedly the hottest town in Australia. On any given night’s weather report you can marvel at the temperature noted for it. For a place that is supposedly so hot there is an awful lot of water in creeks and rivers we cross. On the highway seeing water at a bridge was a novelty, here on the run into Marble Bar if we don’t see water we wonder why.

As we close in on Marble Bar, plumes of smoke soar into the air. A bush fire? We will see. The road winds away from, then back towards the smoke the closer we get to our destination, until we skirt past them at the last moment and on into Marble Bar.

The road in, is adorned with metal figurines. Passing at speed, we will have to come back to get better shots. There is also a sign suggesting Marble Bar is one of the friendliest towns in Australia.

We book into the “heights” section of the caravan park. An elevated area they like to “hide” the longer vans. Even with the slow start we are here early enough to have lunch and start wandering. First we need to refuel the vehicle. The 24 hour station at the entrance of the town will do. I enter $150 into the cash machine and go to the bowser. Although the tank doesn’t fill, the machine only allows $414 of fuel.

I look for some attendants and find one in the shop. Evidently the cash machine has been doing this for some time. They assure only $141 will be debited to our credit card.

That sorted, alone as Solver Leader and Rose are still relaxing in the park, we set off for a reconnoitre. What seems like a road to somewhere ends up being a track past a “staging point” for a mine – the Comet Gold Mine. But here there are lots of vehicles in a state of disrepair.

Further along we see signs to Chinamans Pool. This will be something. In the hottest part of the country a creek pool we expect to see at best a hole in the ground. What we find are two pools of water. One quite stagnant but still large enough for those intrepid enough to take the water on, then another, the actual Chinamans Pool which is a long stretch of the river. The area here has quite a lunch foreshore, with covered picnic tables and reclining workers adorned in Hi Viz gear capturing the shade of a telegraph pole as it moves around.

In the water are swimmers. In fact one is quite voca; as to us joining them  in the water and them remonstrating with the tigers already in the water about the grey nomads (like us) turning up taking pictures and leaving. Whilst not in the mood for traipsing through the shin deep mud required to be joining them, we do sit on the grass and take in the views and the conversation of those non swimmers.

When finally the vocal one comes ashore, he is more than happy to join the conversation and talk about his town. He is the only non full Indigenous one amongst the leisure seekers here at the Pool. He is quite taken aback that we stayed after his “tirade” from the water and the conversation is most interesting from a potential exploration view point. As to being a “friendly “ town, this encounter is living up to the tag.

Heading back into town we find the official Visitor information Centre is closed but to worries, our Pool Area “Salesman” has suggested we would get more information from the proprietor of the local general store if we were “silly” enough to ask. After finding the closed on Monday’s Olympic swimming pool we head to the general store. There is probably the same paraphernalia here as there is in the Visitor Centre up the road but giving much credence to the tag “one of WA’s friendliest towns” the owners give us all the guff on the area. 

There is a big event in town and we should “do” the pub for dinner to hear about it. The pub doesnt open until 4.30pm so we need to kill some time in the mean time. 

Silver Leader and Rose have ventured out, and we see them drive by. They are doing what we are, simply exploring. They ask where the general store is located (having just driven past it). I suggest they turn around and wait for them to return- they dont. They keep looking. 

Eventually we head back to the park, with a few provisions of our own and settle in for a catch up with the family. 

Well after opening time, when the kitchen is open, we are back at the front door of the pub. Its a typical outback pub, if there is such a thing. Its not as outwardly extravagant as say Daly Waters, but it has its own brand of novelty in the paraphernalia adorning the walls and ceilings.

We settle in to the usual pub fare – parmis and fish and chips. The friendliness of the town and its pub continue to engulf us. Whilst we are finishing up we are met by a local suggesting there is a talk on in the other room and would we like to join the “crowd”

Here we meet Stephen Michael and members of the Stephen Michael Foundation. Stephen is one of the few purely WAFL (the Western Australian version of the VFL in Victoria) players to be admitted to the AFL Hall of Fame. Anyone who is anyone in Western Australia knows of the exploits of this man apparently. 

Even devotees of the AFL in Victoria with a memory of the times of Barassi and Mathwes in their heyday know his name. Before the AFL, and much like the Rugby League State of Origin games, states would play representative games. The legend that is Stephen Michael we listen intently and are to find out later more than admirably competed at this level. His triumphs over the likes of “Lethal” Leigh Mathews are stories of legend. 

He talks about the opportunities his life gave him, struggling as a young Indigenous player, from a broken family, wanting something more with his life. Quiet yet articulate, this non drinking, non smoking, clean living roll model brings to the smaller communities through his foundation, football clinics, one of which they are running at the local school tomorrow.

One of the school’s teachers is present and expects an almost 100% rate at the school for the day and they have invited several closer smaller schools to attend.

Question time comes and I ask why are there not AFL footballers with them on their route though the outback. Here Stephen becomes a little outraged at the “ownership” of players by clubs and the “entrepreneurial” treatment of their charges. They will not release them to “give back”, even though at this time there are very few active teams due to finals appearances, without a hefty fee accompanying their presence.

Stephen works for nothing, taking no income from the Foundation. The whole thing is done based on donations and at the end of the talk there are a few pieces of memorabilia which are for sale. So impressed by the talk and the attitude, Robyn purchases a signed and mounted football which we will pick up from the clinic tomorrow as a fathers day gift.

After the talk settles down, Stephen comes to our table to discuss further the debacle that is the AFL. There are some true gentlemen in this world and then there is Stephen Michael. Not a giant in terms of the size of AFL players, and certainly without the outgoing attitude, but truly a lovely person to talk to, truly passionate about footy and the kids that will eventually be courted for it.

We will be at the school to collect the signed football in any event so we bid good night and talk of seeing him in the mornings light.

What a surprising chain of events. A pub in a small town renowned for its heat, turning on an amazing night of “entertainment” with an eye opening insight into a passionate personality. Being in the right place at the right time aside, we simply at times need to open our eyes to the opportunities travelling like a nomad allows. 

The conversation with the gentlemen at Chinamans Pool started it today, and he was right. Whats the point of destination travel, just to take pictures, if you do not involve yourself with the land, the culture and the people. There are many touristy things to do, and many operators out there looking to give the nomads the “outback” experience or the Indigneous or abhorial one, and yes these have their place. But to truly experience this great land there are times when you need to get your hands dirty, step in mud up to your shins, listen to the wind, endure the heat and take it all in.

You never know what might be hiding around the next corner, or resting themselves “in the shade of a Coolibah tree”.