Reflections

Homeward bound

Our stopover in the Flinders marked the four month point of our trip. Now with only 2 weeks left I'm starting to ponder the trip and the somewhat scary end to what has been an amazing adventure. A part of me wants to be home NOW and a part wants to turn around and RUN!

So what I've learned (or has been reinforced) ? 

... appreciate each day you are privileged to have, avoid living with regret

... dont just look, see

... slow down

... you can easily live with less

... water and fresh produce are precious resources

I admit I am looking forward to living without the never ending dust. We've lived and breathed it for at least 3 months. Every thing we own in ingrained. I'm looking forward to doing something with the photos and inspiration I've carried. 

However I'm feeling uncertain about where to head from here work wise. What I do know is that it's not back in the same direction. Time will reveal.

 

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CC FlickR image by Susanne Nilsson

Borderline

Today we drove from the Flinders Ranges to Clare down the R.M.Williams highway. The Orroroo Shire was looking lush with hectares of healthy green crops and fat livestock.

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It was  run of seasons like this one that attracted my Great Grandfather A.R.Addison (M.P.) c1880. He uprooted his family from a successful flour mill business at Middleton with the prospect of success in the more frontier lands to the north. 

My Grandfather​ 'Addie', the youngest of 9 children was born at Orroroo and his mother died soon after. Today the town cemetery includes the graves of his parents, uncle and many siblings, but he (farmed off to be raised by an aunt when his father remarried a woman uninterested in raising some one else's children) escaped for a career with the ANZ bank that took him to N.Z. via a start at Mt Gambier at only 17.

Today in a good season the rolling green hills are scattered with stone ruins, a reminder of the fickleness of the semi desert regions, and the hunger and heartache of many who took their chances and failed.

Small pleasures

I'm sitting in a queue in the stone bath house (ablutions block is far too crude a term here) at Ellenbrae Station campground. People are sitting around the huge donkey wood fired hot water system waiting their turn.

My pores are filled with dust, fingernails are black, feet and shoes a testament to the sooty land and dusty tracks I've covered today. My denim shorts are brown and my hair tied back; 3 days since my last shower. We gather at this place as strangers and sit sharing the same old snippets; the information of travelers ... one young couple from western NSW have only 6 weeks and clearly are trying to travel too far in the time they have. Another couple from Balmain are returning after 20 yrs to fill in some gaps including Mitchell Falls in a hired Apollo that is not insured on that road. Is it worth going to El Questro given the holiday season? And there are questions to me about the Munja Track - is it as bad as they say?

We all look in awe and comment on how clean peoples feet are as they finish their shower. True, the facilities are inadequate for the 20 or so people in the campground but we wait patiently.

Then it's my turn.
For just a few minutes I luxuriate under the low pressure but deliciously hot shower and do my turn reappearing to the awaiting audience. My feet are clean, at least for the next 5 minutes as I stroll back through the dust to our campsite by the ghost gums.

No excuses

We left the Millstream-Chichester N.P. today and headed west to the coast again. The Millstream end of the park is an oasis of clear springs and flowing water from the artesian basin that waters the surrounding Pilbara towns including Dampier, Karratha and Roebourne.

Its a fragile place. Just recently a popular camping spot and swimming hole has been permanently closed following cyclonic rains that eroded the river bed leaving trees with exposed roots ready to fall.

The wetlands are also said to be one of the most culturally significant indigenous sites in WA. Swimming is not permitted in the crystal clear waters of Jirndawurrunha pool.

Despite the fragility and preciousness of this area it felt strangely unloved. I can forgive the yellowing signage in the old Millstream homestead visitors centre, made harder to read due to lack of lighting (the could easily set up some solar powered lighting Steph so rightly pointed out), and the displays that were dusty and poorly kept. However within coo-ee of the rangers station, there was evidence of cattle (probably from the adjoining station) trampling the recently wet ground amongst the melaleuca forest and small seasonal creek beds. Hard hoofed heavy animals and fragile ground simply do not mix.

It was a stark reminder of the consequences of a Govt proposing to allow cattle back into our precious national parks.

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What's it worth?

We're here in the Denham Seaside Caravan Park, cars circle a roundabout not too far away heading out of town, our near neighbour is strumming a uke (not too badly), there's an occasional loud call from a child just up the hill, laughs from a group of men in the distance networking over some beers, and rain drops are pattering on the canvas and dripping off the edge into buckets. Weathered women who clearly have put down roots in their dusty caravan plot, grey nomads plugged into the grid with TVs running, and young explorers living out of small rented motor homes abound. It's only the 2nd time we've made use of a caravan park in a month but not the last I suspect.

I'm contemplating the pros and cons of the places we've camped.

This caravan park is costing us $33 a night. It like the last one we stayed at, provides free wifi (albeit slow at times esp when the backpackers are connecting with family and friends from home), a laundry, hot showers, and close proximity to shops and services ... Or at least those are the things that make the noise and lack of privacy worthwhile in my opinion.

Most national parks are $15-$20 per night and typically provide good drop toilets, level bays, beautiful quiet environs, nearby walks etc. They do however often require a bit of a trek to reach them, and a quick trip into town for supplies is just possible.

As Steph has already posted, we've also stayed in quite a few roadside stops. They are free, convenient (we can keep driving until late afternoon), enable fires, and if chosen carefully, reasonable quiet and private. They also have no services, and would require caution as a single woman.

It depends on your needs and priorities I guess. For us, we came seeking starry nights and exposure to the remote Australian bush. 'Happy hour' in a Big4 caravan park holds no appeal. But when we've been without a proper shower for days, our clothes are grimy, and the weather is unkind plentiful hot water is mighty attractive!

 

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Leaning Marri campsite

Lullaby

 

I've always loved the sound of the sea. As a child the gentle crashing of waves on the beach accompanied me when I went to bed at night and years later I hope the lapping of waves in the bay where we lived during Nic's first year remains in his distant memory. 

That love comes with a deep respect however. I have no desire to venture into its depths, battle it's waves or test it's power. 

They say there are mountain people and sea people. Environs where we are most at ease and our souls can rest. Today I sit with the smell of salt air, sea breeze on my face and the sounds and feel at home. 

 

Lincoln National Park

Lincoln National Park

Grant


There's something both magical and surreal about visiting childhood places; people and places appear as though visited yesterday, memories re-emerge, changes challenge perception.

This week we spent a few days in Stephs childhood community, camping by the creek where he and his brother Mark fished, camped and bogged motorbikes. We passed the primary school, where friends lived, the old hall where he built model planes, Stephs family home, the vines and neighbours.

When Steph wanted to visit an old friend of his father's I knew he must be special, and he was.

Grant was an absolute delight; bright and sprightly despite being around 80, with a wealth of general knowledge and loads of common sense acquired through a life reading and adventuring. He greeted us in bare feet and white overalls, his long term uniform and over a wonderful cold glass of Nippys (OJ) recounted his time off the coast of the Kimberleys as he circumnavigated Australia in his huge aluminium hulled catamaran built in his Monash farm based engineering sheds and sailed to sea down the Murray River. 

Steph recounted childhood visits to Grants farm and the array of continually improved go-carts ready for trial. Grant showed us his bespoke self-built semi-powered long wheel base bicycle he rides each day to do the businesses mail run, amounting to 100km a week. And of course Grant just loved the quadcopter that was put up!

We parted with warm genuine hugs, and returned the following morning to fill our empty tanks with precious Riverland rainwater so generously offered and gratefully received.

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