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!