McKinlay - Winton - Longreach - Isisford
Outback Queensland

We woke up Sunday morning at the McKinlay Racecourse to see bodies in swags beside cars all over the paddock that was the car/caravan park. While we were sleeping there had clearly been a lot of post-race partying going on. The local cop was set up inside the gate doing breath tests on request for a gold coin donation to the fire brigade. What a great idea! He also breathalyzed every driver departing. Carol (our neighbour) and I had given it a nudge through the day and evening, so wandered over. We both blew 00.

Brian grabbed two $8 "recovery breakfasts" from the pavilion (steak, sausages, egg, tomatoes, bacon and a bread roll) we had long, hot showers, topped up the van's 160 litre water tanks (they only took 40 litres), packed up and were heading southeast to Winton by 10am. The 250 km trip along the Landsborough Highway took us through dry, flat, featureless and pretty uninteresting countryside. We made a stop at Kynuna and took photos of the historic Blue Heeler Hotel where Banjo Patterson supposedly drank and wrote. Further along the road we turned off to Combo Waterhole, the location the 'Jolly Swagman' was camped at when he drowned in the billabong trying to escape capture for pinching a sheep. Patterson wrote about him in 'Waltzing Matilda', a poem he penned at Dagwood Station just near the waterhole in 1895. The bush walk through and over the series of creeks dammed by hand-made stone causeways in the 1800's took about 40 minutes. It was interesting and a nice break in the drive.

On arrival at Winton we headed straight out to Long Waterhole a couple of Kilometers south of town. There were a lot of vans free camping, very little water, no greenery and large areas of dried bog. It wasn't very inviting. I did a foot inspection and found a track that headed away from the waterhole to open grazing land, so we took the van out there and set up by ourselves looking out into never-ending flat plains. It was silent, stark, and stunning, even more-so as the full  moon rose, absolutely huge in the pink and blue dusk. The light generated by the moon was so bright  it was like daylight. We rugged up against the cold night air and sat in front of roaring fire soaking up the outback. It was brilliant!

There is lots to do in Winton. They certainly have it set up for the tourists. We drove into town, parked in the wide main street and the three of us wandered along checking out our options for a cappuccino. There were several. We chose the bakery which was on the sunny side with outdoor seating. After a stroll up and down looking at the historic hotels and shop fronts, we decided we should go through the Waltzing Matilda Centre. We took James back to the van, headed back and bought two $19 entry tickets. It was money well spent. We did a session at the creatively presented Billabong Theatrette where the swagman ghost tells his side of the story, then worked our way slowly through the various museums and displays. It took a couple of hours.

After a bite of lunch under the huge windmill adjacent to the Centre we continued our sightseeing exercise; Arno's Wall (made with rocks and junk), The Musical Fence and tin percussion kit (which we played), the Truck Museum and a tour of the North Gregory Hotel. James was very pleased to see us when we got back to the van nearly five hours later.

We filled the rest of the day with "stuff". Brian fired up the generator and worked on his laptop, then spent ages on the tedious task of gently smashing up the glass stove top and scraping the tiny, glued particles from the steel underneath. Why Jayco put glass on caravan stoves is a mystery. It's the second time the glass has shattered while a pot has been simmering on the electric element at the back. James and I took the Beast cross country picking up firewood and generally exploring the area before going for a big walk and making a very big fire.

Monday morning James got a walk early with his boots on. They were on a lot of the time to protect his paws from the nasty burrs. He loves them. It was so funny to watch him belt across the dirt only to drop a front paw in a big crevice in the splitting soil and plant his nose into the ground, almost doing a somersault. I cracked up. He came into town with us to do a couple of loads of washing at the laundromat and have a cappy. While there we did the $3 tour of the Royal Open Air Theatre Museum which was built in 1938. James sat in the Beast. Back at the van Brian strung a line under the awning for the washing, then returned to town for his first haircut in 4 months. Bugger - I was hoping for a grey nomad pony tail! It had been really windy and at night it blew across the plains howling around the van - it was noisy but cosy. In the wind the everything was dry in an hour or two and after it was all packed away we headed out of town to visit the Australian Age of Dinosaurs museum. What an education!

They call Winton the dinosaur capital of Australia, with good reason.The first fossil was found in 1962, the site later revealing a stampede with over 3,300 footprints. A 20-30 ton Sauropod nicknamed 'Elliot' was then found in 1999. Since then more bones have been unearthed than the museum can process. The museum is a stunning piece of architecture built on top of what they call 'The Jump Up', a huge mesa plateau that pops 75 meters out of flat plains with views of the surrounding country. It is home to the world's largest collection of Australian dinosaur fossils and the biggest fossil preparation laboratory in the Southern Hemisphere.

The tour was amazing. We got to see the actual fossilized bones of not only Elliot, but also Banjo, Australia's largest known carnivorous dinosaur, and Matilda, a huge Sauropod. The guide explained about how an understanding of these dinosaurs, which lived over 100 million years ago, is arrived at. We also had a guided tour of the preparation area in which experts and volunteers work with dentist-like drills under microscopes to extract the fossils from the rock. 

Towards evening the three of us went on a big wood collecting exercise so that when we moved on to camp beside the river at Longreach the next day we would be able to have our fires. They are a must in the cold that descends after dark. The coals from Monday's fire were still glowing when we got up Tuesday so Brian pulled out the dual jaffle iron, used the last 4 sliced of bread and filled them with left over Chow Mein. What a disaster! It all fell totally apart, a big burnt mess. We packed the van up and went to the bakery for breaky. 

Winton is an 'RV Friendly' town and as such provides dump points to empty porta loos and also drinking water. The water is from the Artesian Basin and comes out of the ground scorching hot and smells like rotten egg gas. It gets cooled to about 33 degrees before delivery to the towns supply system. We were told that once exposed to the air the stink dissipates and it is lovely to drink. Before leaving Winton Brian topped up the tanks while I emptied and cleaned the dunny. 

Longreach was 180 km southeast on the Landsborough Hwy. At least ninety percent of the oncoming traffic on-route were tourists. When we got to Apex Riverside Park just west of Longreach at 11.30 am we were disappointed to find it was nothing more than a large gravel area sort of adjacent to the river. We had expected bush camping along the river with trees and space. Wrong! It was already half full of vans, motor-homes and trailers parked close together. We slotted into the back row with just enough room to put up the awning and park the car. By the end of the day the area was overflowing with close to 100 campers. Yuk!

We drove into town and checked out the paid caravan parks. They were packed in like sardines as well so decided we'd stick with the free camping and stay just long enough to see what we wanted of the area. We went for a walk around the main street which was teeming with people. With the famous Qantas Museum, Stockman's Hall of Fame and Powerhouse Museum among other popular attractions, Longreach is a 'must do' outback destination. It's a nice enough place but too busy and crowded for my liking. Back at the van Brian had work to catch up on, then we rode the bikes back into town and did some exploring. Every single street in Longreach is named after a bird. It's a pretty big place as far as outback towns go and they do look after the tourist trade. They were doing a lot of work beautifying the main street while we were there. Just before dark I lit a lovely big fire in the fire pit (which we keep stored under the bed) and the neighbours came over with their chairs. Dave was a baker and we chatted about making bread in the camp oven. I'm going to give it a try.  

When Brian first opened the door of the van Wednesday morning he was greeted by a small cat. It was very friendly and very, very hungry. Brian had dry cat food in the Beast (used for cherabin bait), so gave puss a good feed. James was quite intrigued. His idea of cats is that they run and you chase. 'Scrubcat', as Brian named it, was totally relaxed with James. It walked up to him and they touched noses. They spent most of the day in each other's company. Of the 100 plus camps set up, for some reason Scrubcat adopted us. Our day was lazy. We didn't really do anything significant...coffee and a spot of shopping, kindles, computers, reading, bike riding and fishing. Once again we lit a beautiful big fire and Scrubcat spent the night in front of it on Brian's knee. That's quite something given Brian hates cats! 

Scrubcat was at the door waiting for Brian first thing next morning and got a feed and some TLC. When James eventually braved the cold and got out from under the covers of our bed he was greeted with a big smooch from his new friend. We went for a walk over the river on the bridge adjacent to the park. It is part of a stock route and used purely for cattle (and foot traffic) to cross the river . James thought it smelt excellent! He then got to stay in the van for a few hours while we biked into town.

We rode to the opposite end of town to the Stockman's Hall of Fame. It is considered to be the jewel in the crown of all that Longreach has to offer in the way of tourist attractions and it certainly doesn't disappoint. The external presentation is beautiful - it reminded me of the Sydney Opera House. Inside is also stunning. There are three levels and various galleries that take the visitor sequentially through the history of Australia. It starts with how the continent was geographically formed, first inhabitants, discovery by explorers in the 1600's and of course, the role of the men and women exploring and working on the land in the outback. There is so much to see and read it is impossible to take it all in. 

There are a few different ticket packages. We opted for the pass to the Hall and a one hour 'Outback Show' in an external arena. Lachie Cosser, stockman, animal trainer and singer put on a fantastic performance. He did some amazing riding on a couple of the horses as well as tricks which demonstrated just how well they were trained. It was part education, part comedy, all entertainment and included dogs, ponies, sheep, pigs, and a bullock. Our last night at Longreach was spent in front of a big fire, Scrubcat purring loudly on Brian's knee.

Friday Scrubcat had his morning feed then disappeared, which was good - Brian didn't have to say goodbye. We were leaving Longreach, happy to escape the sardine tin we'd been camping in for three nights.

Our destination was Isisford around 100 km south. The nomads beside us at Longreach had done a day trip there and told us about the great camping on the banks of the Barcoo River - sounded perfect! We traveled east to Ilfracombe where we stopped to wander around the free roadside museum. It was a huge collection of old cars, trucks and farm machinery, a cottage built in 1906 furnished as per the era and an extensive antique gun collection. From there we turned off the highway heading south along a single lane road with hardly any other traffic. 

Everywhere in outback Queensland is dry, and so was countryside we drove through except it wasn't barren - the paddocks were full of long grass and there were densely treed areas. We stopped along the road and collected as much firewood as we could cram into the back of the beast. We picked up lots of beautiful, dry, heavy, rooty bits. I love good wood!

Isisford is a small town - two pubs, a post office, general store, a couple of shops, council offices, school and the driest 18 hole golf course you have ever seen in your life. Behind the main street is the Barcoo River camping area. It's very expensive to stay - $2 per night or $10 per week, per van, payable (if you're honest) at the council building. They provide a basic toilet, dump point and a tap with filtered water. If you want a shower there's one behind the council building that sort of works for a gold coin donation (so we were told).

There were lots of campers on the river when we arrived so we kept driving along the dirt track until we found a spot that suited us. It was perfect and had clearly just been vacated as the fire pit was full of hot coals. James was sooo happy. It was just like being on the Murray, only much smaller. He sat on the bank and gazed contentedly into the river while we set up. We immediately decided we'd pay our $10 and stay a week.

After a quick sandwich and cuppa we jumped on the bikes and did a circuit of town. At one of the pubs they were having a cancer fundraiser and shaving or spray painting heads. They called to us as we were riding past to come on in, so we did, and had a drink while we watched several little kids get their heads shaved. it cost $5 to watch. I was tempted to get my head shaved but wasn't too keen on the shared shaver or the publican driving it. Back at camp I pulled out the electric clippers, fired up the generator and  talked Brian into doing a short cut on me, which he reluctantly did. I'm not quite bald but my hair is now VERY short. 

Mount Isa - Cloncurry - Julia Creek - McKinlay
Outback Queensland

After our busy day on Monday we weren't ready to leave The Isa so first thing Tuesday morning Brian hightailed it up to reception and we were able to book our fifth night on site 23. Excellent! We would be able to visit the Underground Hospital, Moondarra and the golf course.

James had been a bit out of sorts at The Isa. He was quite grumpy in fact. We weren't sure why except it was so much colder by night (which we were all feeling), he was kept on a lead attached to the van when outside (he hates that) to prevent him going off after roos in the adjacent paddock and he hadn't been getting decent walks of an hour or so - just short strolls around the park or walks up the hill, always on the lead. He didn't eat dinner Monday night and he was not pooing as he should. So we took him to a park and threw the ball for a half hour.

We did an early trip to the Underground Hospital and Museum. It was a short and interesting tour. There was certainly nothing of the sterile hospital environment in the caves that were used as shelters for patients when at threat of attack during WW11. The tunnels are only just high enough for a tall person to walk through and the walls and floors are dirt and rock. The entry points are from the side of a hill and the three connecting corridors are not very long. You can always see the light at the end of the tunnel (which is probably why Brian could cope). There were lots of pieces of original hospital furniture and both in the underground section and the old museum house above as well as a huge array of medical implements and machines from bygone times.

Next port of call was Moondarra Reservoir, which is about 16 km out of town. The town's water supply is a pretty spot as well as being the aquatic playground for the locals with boat ramp and maintained, shady parks with facilities. It would be the place to take the family on a hot day. We didn't fish although there is reputedly excellent fishing to be had.

We had trouble locating the golf course. It didn't show on any maps of the area and we couldn't find a single signpost to it. Rather than ask we decided to explore The Isa while searching. That was great and gave us a bit of an insight to the residential aspect of the town. In the end we went back to the van and Google-earthed it, to find it located mine-side just a couple of km out of town. We headed out to find a lovely, well kept course with good greens and tees, albeit a bit dry on the fairways, which was to be expected given the rather severe water restrictions that currently apply to the area. It was too late for a game - Bugger!

James was much happier by the end of the day and woofed his dinner down. He would have been starving as he only gets offered one meal a day (evening) and if he knocks it back it goes into the fridge and is re-offered the next night, not before. I call it tough love, though I'm sure many would disagree. Just before 8pm went went for a walk to see if we could hear the blast from the mines. Blasting is only done between 7.50 and 8.00 both morning and evening every day. If you are close enough you will hear and feel it. We heard but did not feel.

For some obscure reason I decided I wanted to feel the 8am blast so we got up early to stand beside the Mount Isa Mine site. Well that was a fruitless exercise - we neither heard nor felt it. We both agreed we had done all that we wanted in The Isa. Our 5 night stay was longer than we anticipated purely because we needed that long to do it justice. It was a warm, friendly place, noisy as hell 24/7 with huge road trains running through it, but diverse, different and interesting, One of the best things about travelling the way we are is our total flexibility with respect to where we go, how long we stay and what we do.

Cloncurry was our next planned stopover and the morning's journey just 120 km east on the Barkly Hwy was a gem of a trip. Firstly, the road was fantastic. Secondly, the rocky, mineral-filled hills and outcrops all along the way were visually spectacular, and thirdly, we found and explored Mary Kathleen.

Neither of us knew much about Mary Kathleen other than it was marked on our maps as 'ruins', Brian vaguely recalls learning about the Mary Kathleen Mine in school and I think I remember my dad's cousin, Marie and her husband Ron and their kids lived there for a while. We drove off the highway, through a gate and down a very pot-holed, sealed road to a stone entrance. From then on there was a network of bitumen roads with concrete house slabs at regular intervals along the sides. It was weird, like a town had been literally been picked up and moved - which in fact it had.

In the 1950's uranium was discovered in the area and a syndicate of 8 men pegged leases, began mining and built a town to support the workers. Mary Kathleen is named after the deceased wife of one of the syndicate leaders. It was a complete, fully self-sufficient town with school, swimming pool, shopping centre, bowls, golf and football clubs, cinema, and of course, houses, pretty much all the same. By 1982, due to an oversupply of uranium in the world, the mine and township were closed. In 1984 the houses were sold, every last thing was auctioned off and every last thing on the site was removed. We spent quite a while there and in fact could have free camped (which is not published) and I collected a beautiful load of delicious dry wood.

At Cloncurry we pulled into Wal's Place (a very odd, weird 'caravan park' run by strange ladies), and once set up jumped on our bikes and spent the afternoon riding all over town - the airport, museum, pubs, shopping area etc. before coming back to Wal's to chat with neighbours about, among other things, how strange the ladies running Wal's were. I wasn't allowed to have a fire there (my wood would keep), but there's not a lot to Cloncurry and a day was enough.

We woke up at Wal's way before dawn and got on the road pretty early. There were bush races at McKinlay (the actual location of Crocodile Dundee's Walkabout Creek Hotel) on Saturday, which we wanted to attend, so we decided to do a bit of a loop. Julia Creek is a small town 137 km east of Cloncurry on the Flinders Hwy (the Barkly terminates at Cloncurry) and McKinlay is 108 km south east of Cloncurry. There is a dirt road that runs from Julia Creek to McKinlay, so that was the plan - a zigzag route. A night free camping by the river at Julia Creek, then a couple of free nights at the racecourse.

The countryside between Cloncurry and Julia Creek was flat and barren, the impact of drought very evident. When we arrived at The Creek we found a good spot beside a billabong, left the van attached to the Beast, pulled the bikes off and rode into town, just a km or so away. We were doing a circuit of the main drag when a cop car approached from the opposite direction and did a rapid U-turn. Bugger - we didn't have helmets on. Sure enough, they pulled up beside us in front of the Julia Creek Hotel and a young police lady in the passenger seat leaned out and said "Where's your helmet's?" Brian started to speak and she barked at him "Get off your bike!".......mmm looks like we're in trouble. We got a lecture about setting an example for the kids in town and told "We'll let you off this time but go straight back and get your helmets". So we did.

JC is a lovely little spot. It has everything a town of 1000 people needs, probably with the exception of a hospital, is clean and seems to have a sense of pride and order about it. It isn't shabby and tired like some of the outback towns. The residents keep lawns mowed, most buildings seem quite freshly painted and there is a fantastic information centre called "At the Creek". We spent a while there and learned heaps about the Artesian Basin some 4000 feet down that provides bore water for JC. We rode a few km west to check out the airport. It does have an RPT service (probably SAAB 340's Brian reckons) so is a decent size.

By 1pm we were ready for lunch so parked our bikes outside the Julia Creek Hotel, went into the bar and sat down to chips, gravy, beer and wine. Who should come in......yep, the cops. Mmm....are we going to be breathalyzed? They were cool and noticed we did have our helmets. On the way back to the van we dropped into the butcher and picked up some pork spare ribs to throw on the Q for dinner. While there we chatted with the young lady butcher about the condition of the dirt road down to McKinlay. As it turned out her dad was a trainer and had horses running at the races. He came in while we were there and gave us a hot tip in the last race - excellent!

Late in the afternoon I lit a fire which attracted a few of the other campers who brought their chairs over and joined us for a few pre-dinner drinks. It's amazing how much information sharing goes on about where to go and what to do. While chatting I noticed James chewing his toenails which had become quite long. I laid him on his back on my knee and clipped them. What a drama queen! You would have thought I was cutting his legs off the way he carried on. When I'd finished he went and sat beside Brian and gave me the evil eye for hours.

The racecourse at McKinlay was around 100 km southwest if we took the unmade Gilliat Byway, or twice that far if we wanted to stay on bitumen. We opted for the dirt. It was a fabulous trip through several station properties on a surprisingly smooth, wide track across flat,dusty grazing country. Not far along the route we came across a dilapidated shed surrounded by wood. You beauty! We loaded the back of the Beast up with as much as we could stack in, knowing that we would need a fire at the racecourse. We had been told to expect very cold nights.

We arrived around midday to find only a handful of vans already parked on what was essentially a very rough cow paddock. The locals painting the gate as we came through told us to camp anywhere we like. That was excellent. We positioned the van close to the outside rail of the track not far from the finish line. As soon as we were set up we drove the 1 km back into town to check it out.

McKinlay is tiny. Population 20. It has a cop shop, service station/general store, aerodrome, a handful of mostly old buildings and, of course, Walkabout Creek Hotel, made famous as one of the filming locations in the movie "Crocodile Dundee". We sat out front and had a drink, then went across the road to  the old Post Office building where the local ladies had a craft sale. We picked up a fly net for my hats and half a dozen oatmeal cookies. Back at the track I lit a beautiful big fire so I could have coals to put in a ground pit to cook a lamb stew in the camp oven. We had a lovely afternoon and evening chatting to the locals who were setting everything  up for the race meeting, which is an annual event. It certainly did get cold as the sun went down but the fire was very toasty and the stew was yum.

Saturday morning it was freezing. The three of us snuggled up in bed watching a spectacular sunrise through the clear and colorful outback sky. We showered over at the race club facility. It was old and basic but clean, and the bore water was abundant, soft and hot. It was also crystal clear and tasted fantastic. We would definitely top up the van's tanks, especially given we were planning a few more bush camping days at Winston and Longreach down the road.

By late morning horse trucks, cars and vans were pouring in. Carol, a solo-travelling lady we met at Julia Creek arrived and parked her motor home beside us. We dressed up (as much as our wardrobe would allow) and wandered over to the open-air pavilion to mingle with the locals, many of whom were dressed up to the nines. The club had done a fantastic job in preparation for the annual McKinlay Cup. The dirt track was in beautiful condition, the bar stocked with a nice selection of wines, the dining area full of tables adorned with flowers, even tubs of roses in bloom along the fence line. The six race program commenced at 1pm and had attracted some good horses with a bit of form, so we were able to study the race guide, look at the horses as they paraded around the mounting ring, and place our bets with one of the three bookies who were offering pretty good odds.

We won on the betting, the profits going back to the club via champagne and beer, and James got to sit on the bed in the van and watch the horses thunder past. For the last race we took him over to the fence so he could watch at close quarters. He loved that! The post race entertainment included foot races over the last 100 metres of the track for kids, blokes and sheilas. It was really funny to watch. A DJ then kicked off the night's entertainment which continued until way past our bedtime.

What a great day in the outback!

King Ash Bay - Brunette Downs - Camooweal - Mount Isa
NT/Outback Queensland

So FINALLY... after fishing the Victoria River, El Questro, Douglas River, Blackmore River, Dundee Beach, Mary River and Daly River, Brian caught his first Barra Keeper on the McArthur River at King Ash Bay on Sunday June 2nd!

This is how it happened. We motored more than halfway to the mouth of the McArthur before turning into a wide tributary where Brian trolled. The fish finder was capturing a fair bit of activity in the water below, so he worked up and down the area for a few minutes. He was just about to pull the lure in when it took a big hit.

The Barra was a fighter. He leapt high out of the water as soon as he took the lure and we could see he was a big'un. Brian got him to the side of the boat and I netted him. What a beauty! We laid him out on the measuring chart...64cm. Brian had his first recordable catch (for this trip) at last. We tied up to a mangrove then and there, and after bleeding him (we knew it was a 'him' because all Barramundi are male until the age of five or so, which is usually around 80cm in length, then they turn female), Brian scaled and filleted him ready for the Baby Q.

As the days went by we became way more familiar with the waterways and we both felt more and more comfortable in the King Ash Bay space. It would be an easy place to spend several weeks, especially if you got rewarded with a good catch every now and then. It is a more extensive and complex river system than we had experienced so far in our travels which made it challenging as well as interesting. There are lots of really huge crocs, abundant bird-life including Jabiru, Kingfisher, Sea-eagles and tiny finches, the camp on the edge of the river was perfect, the infrastructure met all our needs and the people were warm and friendly. Not to mention the weather....17-30 degrees and sunny every day. What a life!

We were back from that morning's fishing about 1pm. I spent the afternoon putting the notes of the previous week's activities together, then had to do the cut, paste, copy etc. bit before transferring it to Brian's laptop, mine still being very sick. Over at the KAB club area we had drinks while going online to get the blog update on our site (that's the last one posted). It sure was a long-winded way of doing it but it was the only way until I either got my laptop fixed or bought new one. Brian texted Blackie the news of his catch. Blackie's reply was "by my figuring that's about $5000 a kg".

While at the club one of the permanents we had met a couple of days earlier joined us and shared lots of information about the river, winds, tides, good spots and more. He said that Brian's catch was the first Barra keeper he had heard of for a week or so. By the time we got back to the van it was dark. We lit the campfire and sat in front of it enjoying a delicious Barra dinner.

The turn of the tide is supposedly the best time to fish. High tide was at 1.45pm Monday so we planned to be on the river an hour or so earlier and head the 20km downstream to where Brian caught his Barra the day before. That left the morning free. We sang "Happy bathday to you" to James and gave him one. He was filthy, but worse still I discovered that between all his pads there were dozens of tiny burrs buried. He was most unhappy about laying on his back on my lap while I removed them....a slow and at times painful process. He was a much happier puppy when the ordeal was over and he was clean and prickle-free.

James didn't get an invite to go in the boat. By the time we were ready to head out the wind had come up which meant a good 40 minutes each way on choppy water. He doesn't like the bouncing or the slapping sound of the water under the bow. He got to stay in the van on the bed with Benton James Bear.

We started out in the tinnie at full speed (about 32kmph, two up), slowed down to troll at a couple of likely spots on the way out, then spent a good hour at the 'lucky spot' with a variety of lures, watching the fish swim under us on the fish finder. They were not in the least bit interested - Bugger! The most fruitful aspect of our 4 hours on the water for the day was wood. We came across a beachy area that had some beautiful gnarly lumps of aged timber so I bravely walked along the sand while Brian followed close to shore in the boat to stop the crocodiles from getting me. We picked up a boat load of wood which, for anyone who knows me and pyromaniac tendencies, was probably as exciting as catching a fish. Our fire was lovely that evening - the wood burned beautifully. Our neighbours, Mark and Wendy came over for a drink and a chat in front of it.

During the night the dew was so heavy we thought it was raining.Through the wee hours we were woken by a loud dripping sound and when dawn broke the river was covered in a shroud of fog. James was ready for a walk but wet, red dirt and freshly-washed, cream fur don't go well together. Time for the boots! Being the princess that he is, the procedure of having shoes put on was thoroughly enjoyable. He happily laid on his back on the bed, compliantly offering all his paws up. He trotted down the track sporting his fine attire, prancing like an Arab mare. I suspect that the constant gathering of burrs in his paws has been a discomfort he's silently endured and shoes alleviated the problem completely.

Brian decided it was D-day. If we didn't catch a fish the tinnie would go on the car and we would head off. Our $83 camp fees for a week at KAB were due to run out next day, so we planned to go for an early fish, trying our luck upstream, then (probably) start packing up camp in the afternoon. Which is exactly what happened. We had lots of bites on bait without actually hooking a single thing. It was a beautiful, calm morning so the cruise up the glassy waters was delightful. On the way back we picked up another load of river wood for our last fire at KAB.

Our afternoon was packed full of activity, the tinnie de-rigged, scrubbed out and put on the Beast, sheets and towels washed, bikes secured back on their racks and stuff generally packed away. We went down to the club at 5 so Brian could ring his daughters (it was Nat's birthday and Ash was picking up her brand new car), so we had a couple of drinks while there. It was $12 Tuesday and by 6pm the place was bursting at the seams with oldies wandering in for their cheap meals. It is a great set up. Back at camp we caught up with Mark and Wendy, I lit a stunning fire, then we barbecued the last fillets of Brian's Barra and sat out under a very starry sky. We both agreed we will definitely come back to King Ash Bay.

By 9am we were on the road out of King Ash Bay. Our destination was a rest area on the Tablelands Highway about 150km north of Barkly Downs Hotel. We called into Borroloola to re-fuel, including an extra 30 litres in containers to get us through to Barkly. We also picked up a few basic items to stock up our food reserves. After a coffee stop at Heartbreak Hotel (where we had overnighted a week prior) we turned south down the single lane Tablelands Hwy. The countryside we initially drove through from that point was a bit hilly with escarpments either side of the road and fairly thick gum tree bush. The road had lots of bends and crests which made for some nerve-wracking moments travelling in the middle of the road with no idea what was coming in the opposite direction. Fortunately there was very little traffic. Further down the highway the terrain flattened out and there was huge variation in the type of vegetation at different points...treeless plains, low, sparse scrub, well-timbered forests...it seemed to change suddenly and for no apparent reason. The road was so full of undulations we almost had our whole rig airborne several times. Brian slowed to 60kph at one stage and it still felt like we were on a roller coaster.

We stopped for lunch at 'Kiana', the first of two rest area options on the 379km long Tablelands Hwy but decided very quickly it was not suitable for overnighting as it had a windmill that emitted a loud, high pitched screech. It was awful. We drove another hundred or so kilometers on to the 'Brunette Downs' rest area, stopping on the way to gather firewood and arriving just before 3pm. We were the third group in, although we had passed an old bloke in a camel-driven car who was also heading there. James and I investigated a track exiting the rear of the rest area to find a lovely spot to set up. It was much further into the low scrub and well off the road.  

Klaus, his car and the two camels appeared some time later. We wandered over for a chat. What a character! He had been on the road for 20 years, the first 10 on a push bike, the last 10 in his beaten-up little Suzuki pulled by Willy. The other camel was Willy's mate. Klaus explained that he only tethers one of them at a time, allowing the other to go and find water. They always come back before dark. He told us some great stories and while he looked like a hobo who hadn't had a bath forever, he was an intelligent and articulate conversationalist. He loves his life, having relinquished all things material including his business as a Fitter and Turner when the recession of the 90's hit and his marriage broke down. He is still a passionate bike rider and traveled to Melbourne earlier this year to do the Great Ocean Road Bike Ride. I hope we come across him again in our travels.

Our night in the outback was stunning. We sat out under millions of stars beside the fire and felt about as contented as you could be.

The run from Brunette Downs to Barkly Homestead took a couple of hours. The Homestead Roadhouse is located where the southern end of the Tablelands Highway intersects with the Barkly Highway. When we arrived at 10am there were caravans and road trains everywhere. It was an absolute hive of activity - vehicles queued at the bowsers outside and people queued inside to buy morning tea or go to the loo. We paid $2/litre for diesel, pulled up in the middle of the massive carpark and with the availability of full network coverage did emails and phone calls. Brian was able to catch up on work stuff.

We weren't sure how far we would travel for the day, but decided it was too early to stop at the Barkly Homestead caravan park, especially given there was nothing to do there. We headed east along the two lane highway with options to pull in for an overnight at one of the three rest areas or go through to Camooweal, a further 270km on. It was easy driving and having our own lane to travel in meant we could push up toward 100kph. The countryside was dead flat and for the most part totally barren. We listened to a new audio book "Bomber" which kept us entertained and found ourselves at the border around 2pm (actually 2.30 local time as we gained an hour crossing over the Queensland border). The NT/Queensland border is about 10 km west of Camooweal and as we approached, from miles away we could see dozens of vehicles stopped and flashing lights everywhere. It was a police roadblock. What a massive operation. There were police everywhere. Brian got breath-tested and sent on, but other travelers were having their vehicles searched.

Mark and Wendy from King Ash Bay had told us about an unpublished free camp area along the banks of the Georgina River a few hundred meters west of Camooweal township, so we pulled in with lots of other vans and set up on the bank of the almost dry river bed. It was quite lovely with trees, plenty of space, views and a fire pit. We still had wood and Brian had chain-sawed up a log that was beside the van at Brunette Downs before we left in the morning. After a late lunch we jumped on the bikes and explored the tiny town of Camooweal - population 310. As we were riding past the servo Brian said "that looked like Doug going in". Sure enough it was! We had not been in touch with Doug and Dione since Daly and it was just pure chance that we ended up in the same place at the same time. We went to their camp at the small caravan park and had a drink and a chat. It is likely we will meet up again at Longreach as we are both heading there to camp on the river for a few days to do a bit of fishing.

Friday 14th June ..... exactly 3 months on the road. It didn't feel like it had been that long. We are both loving the nomad life and neither of us has had any homesickness although we are looking forward to catching up with the kids and grand kids in July. The Melbourne weather has reportedly been horrendously wet and cold so it is difficult to feel anything other than positive feelings about not being there. We left Camooweal that morning around 9 and headed 189 km east to Mount Isa. About 50 km out of Isa we stopped at a rest area known as WW11 Airfield and ended up in conversation with a couple who had spent the previous night at Isa. We knew accommodation could be difficult to get and parks crammed caravans in tightly, so we asked where they had stayed. They had ended up on a great back corner site overlooking natural bush land with plenty of space and privacy at Argylla and suggested we call and book site 23, which we immediately did.

The Isa is a mining town. Population 23000. Diverse, multi-cultural community. Lots of temporary accommodation in caravan parks. Can reportedly be a pretty tough place. Quite different to any other town we have been through. As we approached, the surrounding countryside became quite hilly and from some distance out tall chimney stacks spewing out smoke came into view. It was amazing to drive into the heart of the town and find the huge mining operation pretty much adjacent to the Main Street. We checked in at Argylla, were delighted with site 23, then went into town to find someone to look at, and hopefully repair, our laptops. We found our man, Gerhard, at Dragon Computers. He was pretty confident he could sort them out.

Behind Argylla is a rocky hill, so on our return from town we took James for a walk up there. What a fantastic view of the entire area! While The Isa is certainly very industrial it is visually interesting and there are some excellent things to do including an underground mine tour and a visit to look at the underground hospital which was built in WW11. There is also a good golf course. I am so golf-deprived that I am dreaming about golf in my sleep! We hoped to fit in a game and a visit to Lake Moondarra for a fish too. Not only that but on our first night at Argylla we were invited by the park management to a charity roast lamb and gravy roll night. That was yum and there was no washing up to do!

Saturday morning at The Isa felt freezing, although in reality it was probably about 6 degrees when we woke up. James climbed into bed with us very early. When I went to fire the water heater up for morning showers we discovered we were out of gas, not that it was a problem as we carry two cylinders, but it did mean the fridge had gone off. The broken element meant we had been unable to run it on AC for ages. Brian decided to get up and replace it with the new element that he had got from the fridge repair guy in Darwin while it was off and still cold. It's great that he knows how to do that stuff....the fridge is now fixed!

The clear morning sun warmed things up pretty quickly and after a leisurely breakfast and a walk up the hill for James we went into the visitor info centre, had a chat, went through the gallery and booked me into an underground mine tour for Sunday morning (Brian is underground phobic). We spent the rest of the morning looking at CB radios and aerials, computers (just in case), then a coffee and a drive up to the city lookout. At midday we went back to Dragon to find Brian's laptop good to go, but mine in need of more work. Gerhard was still confident he could fix it but would need it until Monday morning. Most of Saturday afternoon was spent in front of the TV (only the second time it's been out from under the bed in 3 months) watching the V8 Supercar Racing at Hidden Valley in NT. We both love it.

On Sunday Brian dropped me off at 8.45 to do my two and a half hour mine tour. Alone.

The Hard Time Mine has been dug 20 metres under the visitor info centre for tourist purposes and basically replicates how mining was done in the 50's, 60's and 70's. Our guide was Bill, a retired miner who worked at Mt Isa Mines for 35 years, much of it during that era. There were 21 people in the group, all of us provided with overalls, boots, belts, hard hats, headlights and battery packs before being taken underground via a wire cage lift. 

Once underground you wouldn't know if you were 20 metres or 2km except it would apparently be much hotter down deeper. Bill led us through what seemed to be an extensive warren of tunnels explaining and demonstrating various aspects of the mining process. There was quite an array of equipment down there including a huge front end loader which Bill operated. The noise made by the various machines was almost unbearably loud. It was pitch black, the only lighting being from our headlights and in some areas quite stuffy. Brian would have freaked from the moment he got in the lift. I loved it and found it a totally realistic, interactive and informative experience, well worth the old fart price of $44. From what Bill said today's mining processes at Isa are vastly different. Mount Isa Mine is the worlds largest single producer of copper, lead, silver and zinc employing over 2000 miners who work 12 hour shifts, four days on, four days off and get paid well over $100K. It's not a job I could do, that's for sure!

Our afternoon was spent once again in front of the TV watching the car races. Before dinner we wandered around the park, drink in hand and chatted to other travelers. We also booked to stay another night as we hadn't done the underground hospital tour, Moondarra Reservoir, golf or shopping. 

Today I spent hours with Gerhard and my laptop now works. Thank you, thank you, thank you Gerhard! I can't believe, with all the time he spent on it and with me, he charged me $99. It did mean we only had time for shopping before we came back to the van so Brian could install the CB radio and antenna, and I could catch up with my Nomad's Notes and put this blog update together. We are not sure if the park has room for us to stay tomorrow night so we can fit in golf, Moondarra and the Underground Hospital. If not we will be off to Cloncurry first thing in the morning.

Mataranka - Daly Waters - Cape Crawford - King Ash Bay
Northern Territory 

It was late morning Sunday by the time I had spoken to iinet to sort out accessing my emails from Brian's Ipad, caught up on Nomads Notes, created a blog in Word, copied the blog and photos to an SD card, opened the files on Brian's laptop and pasted them into our online blog. Then I had to tidy the post up a bit before publication. It was a good 5 hour exercise, but at least we worked out how to do everything we needed to with my malfunctioning laptop, convoluted as it may have been. In the afternoon I backed up all the important stuff to a spare hard drive....just in case! I suspect my laptop will suffer a slow and agonizing (for me) death.

After all that hard work we thought a dip in the hot springs would be the go, so we headed the 10 minute drive to Bitter Springs, just north of Mataranka. The thermal pool there is quite a lot bigger than at Mataranka. It snakes its way through the forest, at points quite narrow. There are wide bands of thick floating algae clinging to the banks which you wouldn't want to swim through. That part is a bit yucky, but it's the same 34 degree crystal clear water only a less commercialized attraction than the better known Mataranka Springs. I swam the full length downstream, ducking under big Orb spiders whose webs spanned the channel connecting the thick foliage along the sides. Brian timed my swim at 8 minutes.

On the way back through Mataranka we stopped off at the gallery. There was some really nice aboriginal art - well worth a look. While there we bought presents for both our older daughters whose birthdays were coming up later in June, then Brian decided we should have a famous "Mataranka Pie" for lunch, but the lady in the service station that sells them said they ran out of pastry the day before - bugger!

As the day wore on, caravans filed into the park at an unbelievable rate.  The Great Grey Nomad Northerly Migration was clearly ramping up with the onset of winter. We were highly unimpressed when an elderly couple decided they needed to locate their van right on top of ours when there was heaps of space in our 'dog-zone' camping area. Why do people do that? The rest of our day was filled with fishing (not a touch), a swim in the Mataranka Spring and a lovely evening listening to a muso who was playing in the beer garden of the Homestead.

We left Mataranka Monday morning on our three-day day trek to King Ash Bay, arriving at Daly Waters around midday, 169 km south on the Stuart Highway. Daly Waters is a tiny town whose claim to fame is its iconic pub, built in 1930. I had heard it was worth a visit. Check-in was at the pub, of which the caravan park is part. Boy...were they organized to make the most of the passing nomad trade! We parked out front of the pub, went in and were given the warmest, country-style greeting you can imagine, paid for a site , were encouraged to book in for Barra and Beef dinner (which we did for 7pm), drove through the gate beside the pub and were ushered to our site by an old bloke called Mike. Mike was very specific about how and where were parked. He then gave us a full run-down on what happens at Daly Waters including do’s and don’ts, what and who we should visit, then did a big sell on the nightly entertainment which commenced with Happy Hour and the first artist on stage at 4.30. Wow - we were a bit blown away!

 

By the time we had our van in place there was a line of cars and vans out on the road waiting to go through the procedure we just had, and by 4 pm every possible space in the park was filled. Mike was absolutely run off his feet. It was clear why he directed the parking with such care - we were packed in like sardines. No-one unhitched. Clearly it is an overnight-only stop and you do get to know the neighbours very quickly. They were ALL grey nomads.

Once set up James got walked, then we took the bikes off the van and rode out to the old historic airfield, the Stuart Tree and the cattle yards. Across the road from the pub was a small gallery shed with an artist who we could watch painting a landscape, a museum under a house, a ‘jewelry’ shack that sold home-made bits and pieces and a couple of fuel bowsers. The pub itself was amazing....so full of character, both inside and out. Every inch of space inside was covered by something; hundreds of bras and undies adorned the bar and rafters, money and business cards from all over the world were stuck to walls, caps, shirts, artifacts  photos and anything else you can think of was on display. Out back was a large, rustic eating area and a stage in an old shed.

 

At 4.30 the music started so we headed over for $3 pots and wine. The country music played by the guy who ran the museum was fantastic. He was on for 90 minutes and was followed by a rock and roll singer who did Elvis and Buddy Holly stuff for another 90 minutes. The last session was pretty nostalgic and included a slide show to accompany a part comedy, part narration and part music of the John Williams ilk. At 7pm on the dot we were called up to the BBQ area and given our Barra and Beef, then piled our plates from the salad bar. The steak was perfectly cooked to order and was the tastiest and most tender I reckon I have ever had. The large Barra fillet was outstanding. Wow! At 9pm on the dot it finished and we wandered back to our van absolutely blown away by a fantastic and completely unexpected experience.

The exodus from Daly Waters Pub commenced around 6am next morning. We left at 8.30 heading east toward the Gulf of Carpentaria. We were surprised to find the Carpentaria Highway was a single lane road, straight and flat for the most part. It was sealed and had gravel edges to move on to when passing another vehicle, not that we came across many. It was quite different to the Stuart Highway the day before where we had passed close to 30 caravans in the space of 15 minutes. For the 3 plus hours it took us to cover the 270 km to Cape Crawford we only saw a handful of other vehicles. What we did see heaps of were Wedge-tailed Eagles. They were all along the highway feeding on road-kill.

 

Heartbreak Hotel, another icon which I wanted to see, sits at the intersection of the Carpentaria and Tablelands Highways and is pretty much all there is to Cape Crawford. While we could have continued 150km on to King Ash Bay that day, the caravan park at the back of the pub was quite nice and we did want to have enough time to visit the Aboriginal Community of Borroloola and Caranbirini Conservation Reserve on the way through to KAB anyway. There was no phone coverage at Heartbreak Hotel, which was a bit of a problem for Brian as he was in the middle of an aircraft deal. The staff at the pub suggested we climb a rocky outcrop across the highway as sometimes you can pick up a signal from a diamond mine 40 km up the road. By standing on the highest rock on top of the hill Brian was able to do what was required, while James and I enjoyed the walk and the view.

 

Late in the day we had a beer with a sparky who was working at the pub. He had a house at King Ash Bay and was able to fill us in on some local knowledge about the place, where to fish, what was being caught and with what bait etc. He also gave us a bit of an insight into the road conditions on the unsealed Savannah Way, along which we would like to travel when we leave KAB. We both find it fascinating talking to the locals while on the road. They certainly are a wealth of knowledge.

 Wednesday we departed about 8.15 and headed northeast to King Ash Bay via Borroloola, a trip of 130 km. We stopped at Caranbirini along the way and did the 2km walk around and through a cluster of sandstone spires similar, so I was told, to the nearby and much larger "Lost City" that can only be accessed by helicopter. It was spectacular!

 The spires are the remnants of an ancient seabed that through millions of years of exposure to the elements has been eroded into a series of tall, layered rock monoliths. Some are up to 25 meters high, most with a conical appearance although there are various shapes and sizes. Some have eroded at the base and seem to be precariously balanced. There are narrow caverns between adjoining structures and shady glades surrounded by walls of rock through which the walking trail meanders. The colours of the rock vary from almost black to rich red and some glowed bright orange in the morning sun. It truly was a magical place and a feast for the senses, and my camera.

Not much further along the road was Borroloola which, to be honest, doesn't have much going for it. It's certainly not the sort of place I would like to stop over. Apparently it can be a bit rough and lawless which would explain why most of the buildings, including the pub and the caravan park, are surrounded by cyclone fencing. It was interesting to pass through and we did need to refuel, but we didn't really explore the town or hang around any longer than necessary.

King Ash Bay campground, which is at the end of 21km of dirt road northeast of Borroloola, is on land leased by the King Ash Bay Fishing Club. It is open to the public offering a choice of powered sites or riverside bush camping, which is what we opted for. It's pretty well set up with all amenities, albeit quite basic, a great general store, fuel and licensed club overlooking the river. It is a huge area covering several hundred hectares on the McArthur River about 25km from the Gulf of Carpentaria. It is renowned for its fishing. We drove around and chose a spot overlooking a broad stretch of the beautiful McArthur on a high riverbank, which was good because we had a space of our own, a great view and were out of reach of the many huge crocs that inhabit the river. We rode our bikes back to the registration area and paid our $83 to stay for a week.

 

Later in the day Brian unloaded the boat and got it ready to go on the river while I went collecting firewood. That night we had our first campfire since Devil's Marbles in March. Just after dusk, while there was still some light in the western sky, a plume of black began erupting from the trees on the opposite side of the river. The plume grew and grew in intensity then began streaming north and south for as far as the eye could see. Bats - tens of thousands of them hit the skies. It was like a volcano spewing black ash. It was an amazing sight.

Our first dawn broke at King Ash Bay casting pink and blue reflections over the mirror-calm river. Every now and then a fish would jump, creating a big swirl. The tide was low exposing mangrove mud flats on the far bank and a huge croc was resting by the edge of the water. He was a whoppa. As the morning wore on the tide started coming in and the wind came up, totally changing the appearance of the river.

 

We rode the bikes up to the general store a kilometer or so away to buy bread and bait, and an hour before the midday high tide we launched the tinnie. Several people had told us the river could be a bit treacherous with shallow parts, sandy and rocky outcrops just under the surface as well as unmarked snags. Even though it was fairly windy and choppy we figured it would be safer to explore in deeper water. We had bought a river chart at the store but for the life of us couldn't even orientate it to where we were. So much for our combined navigational training as commercial pilots! Brian later pulled up a WAC (aviation) chart on the GPS App. on his Ipad and eventually worked it out.

 A couple of hours on the water for the first day was enough. The fishing was terrible, the wind was increasing in strength, the river got so choppy there were white-caps and we were flying blind in terms of local knowledge. The tinnie handled the conditions beautifully, but James wouldn't have coped with the motion of the bow bouncing or the loud banging as it hit the bottom of each wave. We were glad we had left him behind in the van.

 In the afternoon we rode the bikes to the bar/clubhouse which has a big antenna so a full Telstra signal is available. That was excellent. Brian worked and I used his Ipad to pick up emails. For dinner we rode back for "pie night" and had $12 pie, chips, peas and gravy. Afterwards we sat out on the riverbank stargazing. With the moon almost non-existent the sky was absolutely a mass of brilliant lights.

Friday started out as another mild morning without a breath of wind to ripple the water. We planned to head downstream after breakfast but by 8am the wind had started to gust up, intensifying by the hour. We decided against putting the tinnie in which ended up being a good idea as I was struck by a burst of domesticity that lasted all day; washing, scrubbing the bathroom (which gets filthy with all the red dust) and re-arranging cupboards. It was amazing that after living in the van since renting the house out in early February, I still had not sorted some of the stuff out that had been thrown in randomly the day we left Seaford. The whole process of putting my new house in order was quite cathartic. I had a lovely day - 30 degrees, beautiful views and an energized Noellie!

Brian read ALL day! Actually that's not quite correct - he did some phone/computer work down at the clubhouse, made breaky and lunch, started the generator so a few battery-powered items could be charged and put up a clothes line for me. Oh, and he had a snooze.

 James and I did a couple of fairly long walks and got talking with one of the semi-permanent fishing club members on the bush track through the back way to the store. With James running free and clearly thoroughly enjoying himself, the subject of dogs and how much they love the free-roam environment came up. "Keep a close eye on him" said the lady, "there are heaps of dingoes out here. They appear from nowhere and can grab a small dog before you know it". James went straight on the lead. Bugger!

Yesterday were on the water before 9am armed with a bit more knowledge about the river system. It was low tide so while we had to motor carefully to avoid the sand bars and rocks, at least some of them were visible. Brian had managed to get his fish finder working as well, which meant we knew what the depth of water was as we traveled along. It was a calmer day than our first on the river, so James was given an invite, which he accepted. It works like this; "James, do you want to go in the boat or stay here and be a good boy?" (exactly those words). James then either gets on the bed or rushes to the door. He does actually make a decision.

 King Ash Bay is not far from the coast and aside from the McArthur River, the Carrington Channel along with multiple large creeks make up the network of waterways that head out into the Gulf of Carpentaria. We spent close to 5 hours exploring downstream and became much more confident about how to navigate it safely. The fishing, sadly, was pathetic. We tried a dozen or so places with lures, squid, river prawns and pilchards. All we got were two bites. James didn't particularly enjoy himself either. It was probably too long in the boat for him, it was hot in the sun, and we were anchoring rather than tying up. He hates the noise of the anchor chain dragging over the bow. I very much doubt he will accept the next invite to go in the boat.

 In the afternoon we took a drive along the river to where the track ends at Batten Point, just 7km downstream. It was also a wood collecting exercise. That didn't work cos there was no wood to collect so we ended up heading back toward Borroloola to find some and it was a pretty miserly collection at that. But it was enough to have a lovely fire at the end of the day.  

AND....this morning Brian caught his first Barra keeper – a 64cm beauty. Fresh Barramundi fillets for dinner tonight....yum!