Hancock's Lookout, SA

 

Late in the afternoon we pull off the road to head for a free camp site. It’s the first dirt road for our new car/camper combo and things go just fine. We arrive to find a group taking sunset photos before heading off in their mini-bus. Then find we that we are the only ones left here. A beautiful sunset lights us as we set up home for the night. There’s a bit of wind about and no facilities but we aren’t too concerned. We just feel lucky to have such a place to ourselves (it's the first and last time that we will camp completely alone for this trip).  

A windy night makes for broken sleep and the dark morning brings its own adventures. Let’s just say you can only imagine the challenges that pre-dawn, coldest temperatures of the trip, 25 knot winds, tummy pangs and toilet needs make. Enough said. Actually it was a bit funny. The new morning rewarded our efforts with a stunning sunrise before a grey and wet drive on towards Alice Springs.

(Aunty Fran and Uncle Pepe you could probably guess that we never did get around to getting our own paint can…!)

Bell's Milk Bar, Broken Hill

 

After the early challenges and lessons in our trip, our morning in Broken Hill was begging for some lighthearted fun. Gav came up with the goods and took me to a different part of town, known as Patton Village. There you will find worn out signage, old shop fronts and a milk bar called Bell’s. Bell’s retains it’s original charm with cute laminex tables, vinyl chairs, and checked floors. Milk shakes are served in tall metal cups and hot dogs come in paper bags. My favourite detail was the pastel Johnson’s plates, cups and saucers that are used. Out back is a museum (No Photos Allowed – oops). It was just the reprieve we needed before jumping in the car and heading over the border.

     

          

The Bike Rack

 

Mel’s dad had his doubts when he first saw our bike rack, but we were pretty happy with it.  Home made out of solid black some-kind-of-metal, bolted on to the spare tire at the back of the camper trailer, the previous owner had thrown it in with the trailer.  It was Sturdy, Convenient, and, best of all, Free.  I guess I never really put much thought into the see-saw action of a single axel trailer on an undulating highway.  Luckily, I did think about how easy it would be for someone to nick Mel’s spankin’ new bike off the back of the trailer, and I looped a couple of bike chains around the bikes and the trailer frame.  Lucky.

The old town of Nyngan, on the Bogan river, claims to be the gateway to the Outback, and it’s a pretty fair claim.  East of Nyngan a network of highways winds through fields and bush and rivers and little towns that are all fairly greenish.  West of Nyngan there is one brave and narrow highway passing through towns separated by hundreds of kilometres of red dirt.  It takes about a day to drive from one river to the next.  The next town, Cobar, looks like it has either been entirely painted rust red to fit in neatly with its surrounds, or else the whole town is covered over and permeated through with the red dust around it. 

Somewhere between Cobar and Wilcannia we heard a New Rattle.  New Rattles are always a little concerning, although 99% of them turn out to be just the spare change jar or some other trinket bouncing around the back of the car.  Most New Rattles just disappear by themselves, or with the help of some deft repositioning of rattly luggage on the part of the passenger.  This New Rattle, quietly clacketing away somewhere behind us, did not disappear.  Through it’s persistence, it became worthy of a Comment.  Something along the lines of: “do you think we should check out that rattle?”; which then became: “maybe we should pull over next time we see a bit of a shoulder?”;  and then: “do you think it’s getting louder?”.

We’ve all heard that a picture is worth a thousand words.  So I’ll leave it to you to figure what words go along with these ones:

        

        

So now I can tell you why the bike racks you can buy that bolt onto the spare tire say things like “not for use on caravans/trailers”. I can also tell you what happens when you drag a bike along the highway and 110km/h for as long as it takes for a little New Rattle to be concerning enough to make you pull over: the road pretty much shreds the bike frame into something unsalvageable. But even then, there’s room for some little miracle of grace. While my old beaten up bike was being shredded, Mel’s brand new one was lying safely on top, only centimetres from the vicious road, but still far enough away that the only damage to be found was a little tear in the seat and a row of scratches on the frame. Hallelujah. We laughed our guts out. And then spent about an hour untangling the bikes and figuring how to secure them to the roof. We were late into Broken Hill that night, but that just meant we got a chance to pull over outside town to see the outback stars.

Lessons On The Road

• Kangaroos often travel in a pair or group.

• When you hit a Kangaroo, it is probably best to stop and check your car and surrounds. Just in case bits have broken or fallen off. This applies to hitting other animals or objects too. 

• It is a Good Thing to have a checklist. It is a Good Thing to have a double-checking system for Important Things like power and hitching up the camper properly. 

• Home-made bike racks, even when 'free', may not be the best solution when transporting bikes. 

• OR a bike rack may not work best on the back of a camper, where there is a bit of bouncing around happening.

This photo was taken as we drove into the Warrumbungles for the night. The burnt out forest and it's  regrowth made for fascinating sillhouettes. The Warrumbungles was affected almost completely by bushfires at the beginning of the year. Apart from destroying thousands of hectares of forest and wildlife habitat (not to mention the wildlife itself); many houses, the visitors centre, and historic buildings were also destroyed. One camp site has re-opened recently and it is free to stay at the moment. You can see photos on Australian Geographic here. 

It was on the road through the national park that we hit a roo. It hopped away and was hopefully ok due to our slow speed. Later we realised that a plastic bumper protector thing had fallen off at the time. The next morning was when we didn't hitch up quite right. There were no obvious signs, just a hunch from Gav to stop and check. We hadn't gone very far before we stopped and made things right. We are grateful for our bull bar. We are grateful for remembering things. We are grateful for gentle lessons learned quickly. 


(The Bike Rack Story will follow soon!)

Snapshots from the road

The Beginning

So, we've packed up, attempted to tie up loose ends, farewelled family and friends, gotten ourselves pregnant, bought a camper trailer and set off across the country (NOT in this particular order). Just a few major life events. So, Brisbane to Broome (via Alice Springs) has been the focus of our past 4 weeks. We have covered approximately 6000 km's, often with Gav driving while I nap/drool/startle awake to complain or be bossy/knit. We've only hit one kangaroo (it hopped away) and possibly a couple of corella's. We've arrived with one less bike. We've set and packed up our camper approximately 10 times. We've learnt a few lessons along the way. We've been in awe of what we've seen or experienced a whole bunch of times. We've hiked and canoed and swam and spotted birds. We've spent good times with special friends. I've op shopped 4 times. We've read books. We've celebrated milestones along the way, including my birthday. We've had lots of average meals and a few good ones. We've had a few bad coffees and a couple of great ones. We've laughed a lot and I might have cried a little too. But we are here, together, and I'm pretty inspired by it all and looking forward to what's ahead (ok, maybe I'm a bit nervous too). 

We'll start telling you some more of our Flight Of The Finch stories over the next few weeks. Meet The Finch (below), our first home and she happens to have wheels! She's pretty special. If you feel you need to call her more than The Finch, you can call her Flossie. The Flight we took was a crooked but intentional one. We are happy to be on the other side now: discovering Broome, admiring the turquoise ocean and watching sunsets over the sea along with the rest of the town. If you are friends or family, we love you lots and miss you. If you aren't, well, we'd probably love you lots and miss you too if we got to know you a bit.