Two weeks until the eclipse, one until the election

    We're spending a few days in Alice Springs, catching up on email, blogging, shopping, and hanging out.  I'm sitting in a small shopping center soaking in the air conditioning, surrounded by shoppers and families and tourists, a nice bustle that is actually more conducive to writing than being in a library with it's stillness regularly punctuated by not so silent librarians.  I plan to get more posts out soon, but until then, see you all later.

Sunday, 10/21 Parachilna Roadhouse to Beltana Station

Kevin and Diana are discovered by the Australian film industry!

     Parachilna Roadhouse was a rather bleak little place, other than the restaurant. We paid $22 to camp there, the bathrooms were in need of a good scrubbing, the wind was still frisky, and the flies had spent the night. We had coffee and cereal in the 'camp kitchen', a roofless structure with green screen walls that sort of kept out the flies and the wind.

Not all our camping is idyllic 

     Our plan was to head north to Leigh Creek, do a bit of shopping , and continue on. We passed some fine ruins along the way.

     Leigh Creek is both the name of a town and a coal mine. The mine provides the carbon source for 40% of South Australia's electrical energy needs, and in it's voracious appetite for new veins of coal, the old town of Leigh Creek was moved about 15 km south in 1986 to its new location. A completely planned community, it currently has 450 residents, down from its peak of 1500 a decade ago. A quarter million trees were planted at the inauguration of the town and now it is a completely uncharacteristic 'Outback' town, green and nicely laid out (by city and landscape architects). You can only live there if you work at least 20 hours for the mine or one of the businesses in the town. If you quit or retire, you must move on. It reminded us a bit of the movie “The Truman Show”.

     We went into the tiny IGA to pick up a few grocery items and the blue-haired lady working there said “We closed at one, please get your things as quickly as possible”. Diana said “We didn't know you closed so early” and she said, “ we normally aren't even open on Sunday, but there's a film crew in town and we opened for them.” “What are they filming?” “ Something called 'The Tracker'”. Sounded like a good adventure film.

     We scurried about, grabbed a few provisions, paid, and walked out to the LC to stow things away. As we crossed the empty parking lot a Landcruiser with a rental emblem drove slowly by us, stopped, and the driver, a woman about our age asked us,

   “Are you tourists?”

   “Yeah.”

   “Where will you be staying tonight?”

   “Probably someplace a couple hundred k's north.”

   “Darn, I'm looking for a couple just like you to cast as extras for a movie we're shooting near here.”

   “Sure, we can do that!”

   “Really? I think the director will love you. The movie is set in the '70s and we're seeking people who look the part,” Diana's long straight hair and my beard. Besides, we could give lessons on being tourists in the '70s. She gave us directions to the location and told us to be there at 10:30 am the next day.

   The movie is called “Tracks” and is about an Australian woman who traveled from Alice Springs to the west coast with four camels. Her story first appeared in National Geographic, I remember reading it when it came out. It stars Mia Wasikowska, who appeared as Alice in Tim Burton's recent version of Alice in Wonderland, which starred Johnny Depp. The movie has a $13 million budget and is due out sometime in 2013.

    Since it was early afternoon and we didn't have anywhere to go now, we sat at the tennis courts at Leigh Creek, using power from the public toilet there to power our bongle, and emailed and blogged for a couple hours. Oh, and we also Skyped w/David (our son David) who was up very late.

Catching up on email in Leigh Creek

    We drove back south to a station (ranch) called Beltana and camped near the shearers quarters. The station is over 200,000 acres and runs sheep and cattle, but like many stations along the main roads they also had a campground and room accommodations in the shearer's quarters. We were the only campers there, and got to use the kitchen and veranda for dinner, which was lamb chops, potatoes, carrots and Tim Tams.

At Beltana Station.  We're the only campers there.

We're not the only ones that appreciate a fine Aussie Cab-Sav

     As we cooked dinner we talked with a sturdy woman a little older than us (reminded us of Grandpa Burt's wife Annie). She and her husband ran their own station for 40 years, then sold it to his younger brother. Now they 'station sit' for other owners, since they know how to “do the water run”, or check the bores (wells) and tanks, take care of the animals, and everything else necessary to keep a station going. She was currently also doing laundry for some of the film crew and helping out preparing meals, since some of the crew were also staying at the station in the converted shearer's quarters. We got to bed pretty late, not a good idea before the beginning of our new careers as movie stars.

Saturday, 10/20 Roadside Campground in Flinders NP to Parachilna Roadhouse

A fine morning walk

     After breakfast we explored a small gorge nearby that supposedly had Aboriginal art. Didn't see any, but we did hear frogs in the small spring fed pool (water in the desert!), saw pretty flowers, examined interesting rock formations, climbed a hill to get a good view of the surrounding countryside and checked out an old stone shepherd's hut. All-in-all a much more pleasant experience than the established gorge walk the day before.

Hmm,... it's gonna take a little work before it's ready to rent to college students

  Mr. Blinman has a mine, a town and a pool named after him

   Blinman was a shepherd who found a chunk of copper one day in the 1860's and now has a town named after him. The mine never got very big, all the ore was underground, but we did learn a little about the whole process, and got a nice walk thrown in.

Blinman copper mine

     Driving down the Parachilna gorge road we took a couple hour hike in 104 F temperatures to the Blinman Ponds, afflicted again by flies, but at least had the reward of a nice swim in a pool of 72 F water. Diana didn't partake because she didn't want to wash off her sunscreen, but we both got in a swim at a smaller pool just twenty minutes shy of the car. I soaked my hat and shirt in the water, and in the parched breezy air it actually felt cold. However, both were dry by the time we got back to the car.

Diana standing among invasive Mexican cacti 

Kevin enjoying a well-earned swim in Blinman Pool

 Dinner at the Pioneer Hotel

    We had dinner at the Pioneer Hotel, a roadhouse in Parachilna back on the paved Stuart Highway leading to Alice Springs. They are semi-famous for serving native animal and we had the "Feral Grill Sampler", which included emu filet, kangaroo filet, and camel sausage, along with two teeny tiny grilled tomatoes and a small dollop of mashed potatoes. The emu was very dark, tough and gamy, the camel sausage, eh, it was sausage, and the roo filet tasty, rather like venison. We've heard from a couple people that you should grill kangaroo to medium rare only for it to be tender. This was and indeed was tenderer. We shared a table with two retired Melbourne architects who were returning from adventures in the Simpson Desert, and had a lively conversation that lasted for two hours.

     Going out to the tent for the night we saw the 3 km long coal train that runs daily from the massive open pit mine in Leigh Creek to the equally gigantic power station in Port Augusta, which generates 40% of South Australia's electric power. Finally, as we prepared for bed a terrific lightning storm came in from the western desert, entertaining us and whipping up a fierce wind that threatened our poor old tent. But all survived for another day.

The Pioneer Hotel

Which one is emu?

Friday, 10/19 Wilpena Pound Campground to Roadside Campground in Flinders NP

Fly Crazy

     We had our coffee and cereal and said goodbye to Anne and Daniel. We drove to Bunyeroo Gorge to take a hike, but between the misleading trail maps, heat, and most of all flies clouding around my face I said “*@#% it”, if you want to go on the hike, go ahead, I'll go wait in the car. Two surprising and helpful facts, the flies barely venture into the LC, even with the windows down, and because the humidity is so low, the 104 temperature inside the car is tolerable, more so than being out directly in the sun.

     I sulked for awhile, then ate some peanuts and cookies, then dozed off. When an hour had passed and Diana hadn't returned I started to get a little worried. It wasn't that interesting of a place so I couldn't see why she had been gone so long. She only had a small bottle of water with her. I grabbed a bottle of water and headed out the one of three trails I though she would most likely have gone on. Of course the flies were still out but I did my best to ignore them. Big hero!

     I walked quickly about 15 minutes up the trail, then headed back to start up another, already planning to ask for help if anyone else was around when I returned. As I returned to the parking lot I saw Diana heading up one of the other trails. She had returned to the LC while I was out, and was now beginning to look for me. She'd left a note at the car but we found each other before I got there. Needless to say, I had the same sort of emotions one has when their child disappears and returns, relief and anger. As we pulled out of the parking lot we agreed that we would have some kind of defined plan if we split up in the future.

     [Diana's Note: My hike was not very exciting so I decided to go as far as the gorge mentioned in the trail notes, so it wouldn't be a complete waste of time. I was rewarded by seeing a yellow footed rock wallaby! They are endangered and uncommon. You can tell them immediately because their tails are striped and kind of bushy! To make up for my extra time in the gorge I jogged for a km in the sun and 104 temp. I used most of my half liter bottle of water.]

Elusive yellow-footed rock wallaby

      We did a cursory inspection of some more homestead ruins, then drove out the Brachina Gorge drive for more rock watching. Finally an hour or so before sunset we stopped at a NP campground, which look more like a roadside pullover, and invented the 'Outback cocktail'. We don't carry beer in the cooler, too expensive, nor do we buy soda pop or any other cooling beverage. We do have ice most of the time, but water wasn't going to cut it after that hot and stressful day, and hot red wine just isn't palatable. However, dissolve a few teaspoons of sugar in water, fill your glass with ice, then add warm wine, and you have a cool, soothing drink that you can down without getting drunk. We had a couple glasses each before our dinner of leftover couscous lamb. So, the day ended on a much better note.

We're still alive!

     We've had a busy few days.  Two days at Uluru (Ayers Rock),  great destination and very photogenic! We're just headed out of the resort here where they've piped in cell phone reception back into no contact zone.  No time to blog, but we'll be in Alice Springs in a few days and we'll post and email then.  Until then, see ya later.

Lots of new posts

Got a little free wifi at the Cooper Pedy library, so here are some catch-up posts.

Wednesday, 10/18 Roadside rest just south of Quorn to Wilpena Pound Campground

Pounds and Euros

     A 'pound' is a a geologic term for a semi-circular area surrounded by peaks or mountains.  Wilpena Pound is the highlight of Flinders NP.   Wilpena Pound campground provided very comfortable amenities. With many gum trees, friendly euros (a type of small kangaroo, not shrinking currency, although I haven't really checked the rates in over two months in my current 'almost no news' mode) and convenient camp kitchen I decided to make the Aussie Boy's Favorite Breakfast (ABFB), which is now also mine, toast, vegemite, cheese, all topped with a fried egg, side of homefries.

     Because the Wipena Pound is privately owned and a resort, there is cell phone reception in the area, and we took advantage of it by Skyping with Tracy, Kristy, and Davidevelynnina. That was a treat. We use up too much of our bandwidth to use video, so we take a quick look at each other to make sure we're not talking to impersonators, then just use sound.

A hot, fly-y hike

     With the big breadfast and internetting we didn't get started on our big hike for the day until noon. We chose to go up to St. Mary's peak, considered the hardest trail in the park. We shortened it by not going on the circular routed, but up and back the shorter portion. That day it was hot, 102 F, and we hiked with a small escort of flies. The first two thirds of the trail climbed steadily through woods and shrub, but near the top we were clambering up rock faces and boulders using hands and feet. The last section of the climb to the peak is on sacred aboriginal land, and you are asked to respect that by not actually summitting, but strangely the park has the trail marked the whole way. We were glad to use the religious respect thing as an excuse though, we were hot, tired and a little low on water. We took some photos, then made the long climb back down to the car.

Climbing the last bit

The Flinders Range 

     I made lamb spaghetti for dinner and invited Daniel and Anne over to join us. They are a very interesting couple. Daniel just turned 31, I assume Anne is about the same age. Daniel has biked through Australia and New Zealand, down the whole US west coast, and raced the Paris to Brest race a few years ago, being one of the youngest competitors to ever enter the event. That ride was 700 km long, is non-stop and he finished in around 49 hours. He wants to join a team to enter the Race Across America. He and Anne hiked in the Alps last January and were up to their waist in snow at times. Daniel is a carbon fiber expert and makes his own bikes and is currently designing a tandem for Anne and himself. Anne makes her own wine with grapes she grows herself. A very interesting night. When we departed the next morning I told him that when they're riding across the US some day we'd put them up, and they promised to show us around their some state of Saxony when we go to Germany.  

Wednesday, 10/18 Roadside rest just south of Quorn to Wilpena Pound Campground

Old towns, dead towns

     

    We got up before sunrise and left the rest area and drove the half hour to Quorn. A nice little railroad town in the southern Flinders Range that appeared in the film “Gallipoli”, we used their park for breakfast preps, then took a brief tour around the historic railway station and yards and talked to an English/Kiwi/Aussie woman about the fine points of Marmite, Vegemite, and Quondong preserves.

Quorn RR station

Downtown

     On the drive to Flinders Range NP we looked at an old town site identified only by the large dead trees that still stand there.

These trees shaded someone's yard once

     A few kilometers later we walked around the old Kanyaka Homestead, a former sheep station that was abandoned in the late 1890's. We also walked down to Death Rock, where Aboriginal people would go during their dying days.

The main house for a 240,000 acre station that was done in by drought in the 1890's

      We got to the Flinders a couple hours before sundown and did a hike up to Arkoola Rock to see Aboriginal art. We also made friends with a couple wallabies on the way back to the car.

Well protected rock art

                           

     We checked into the campground and made lamb couscous for dinner, and talked to a young German couple for a couple hours, then went to bed.

Tuesday, 10/16 Side Road near Ceduna to Roadside rest just south of Quorn

A long day of driving

    Australia is a big country and we knew we better get a move on it so after having breakfast at the shore front park in Ceduna we spent the whole day driving. Along the way we passe Iron Knob, a giant mound of tailings that used to be a mountain. High grade iron ore was discovered there in the late 1800's, and Broken Hill Proprietary dug it all up and sent it to the town of Whyalla for processing. That mine is played out but there are other mountains in the area that are being reduced to tailings. Iron Knob now looks like this;

All that is left are tailings

     Nearing Port Augusta I noticed someone following closely behind and waving at us. I wondered what I was doing wrong, probably driving too slowly (the experiment of driving 100 kph (66 mph) instead of our usual 80 kph (50 mph) cut our mpg by over 25%, which is pretty bad to start with). They finally passed us and we recognized a couple we'd seen two times before, in the Warrambungles in New South Wales and at Broken Hill. We were to see them two more times, once at a grocery store in Port Augusta, then in the small railroad town of Quorn at the southern end of the Flinders Range. They invited us to visit them at their home near Brisbane when we're there in December.

     We restocked in Port Augusta, then took out dinner from a small restaurant recommended in the Lonely Planet. We were hoping for oysters, but they were out of those , so we had fried King George whiting and gar filets with fires and ate them in our car. The fish was unremarkable, but the chips were a nice treat.

     Then on the road for a half hour where we found a rest area to spend the night.

Monday, 10/15 Koonalda Homestead to Side Road near Ceduna

Bustards. dingoes, camels, and other wonders

     We didn't hear any of the mice in the shearer's kitchen during the night that Simo had said he'd heard, and the wind of the previous day had died down, so we had a calm breakfast of coffee and bread and jam on the little porch. Then we packed up our stuff and headed out to look for the dingoes that Simo had said we'd see a few miles down the old Eyre Road. We'd heard a pack of dingoes howling a few hundred meters away when we first awoke, so that was a good omen.

     The new road crossing the Nullarbor Plain, which opened in 1986, is some twenty kilometers south is smooth and straight. The old highway was never paved. It's relatively straight, and was probably as well groomed as other big dirt track roads when in its heyday but it's gotten a little rough in places now. It's generally best to keep your speed around 40 mph when negotiating the corrugated roads, fast enough to smooth out the bumps but slow enough to maintain control. Also helps outrun the dust. But since we were dingo hunting we took it slower.

     We'd driven a few kilometers without seeing anything when we spotted some strange large birds that looked like a cross between an emu, caracara and turkey. It's a good thing Kim gave us the bird book. The birds didn't let us get too close, but here is one;

Australian Bustard, over 3 feet tall

     A few more kilometers down the road I looked over and saw three tawny forms 50 meters from the car and called out “dingoes”. They were feeding on a fresh wombat carcass. We stopped the LC to take some photos and a male circled towards our front. I drove on slowly to keep taking pictures of him. He seemed nonchalant about us, mostly ignoring our car but continued to lead us further from the other dingoes and wombat kill. Finally after about 100 meters he trotted back into the bush and headed towards the other dogs. I don't know if he was actually trying to lead us away, but it sure seemed like it.

A bored yawn

I took many photos of this handsome fellow, hard to decide which to post

     Then as if that wasn't cool enough, I noticed a spread of large bones just at the side of the road. I got out to check them out, there were leg bones larger than any I'd ever seen outside of a museum. Too big to be cattle bones. Diana got out and joined me searching for the skull and found it on the other side of the road;

Camel skeleton

Wow, that was all quite exciting. Wait, how about a nice flock of Galahs?

Galahs in flight

     Or a handsome Brown Snake slithering across the road (Diana was not happy about me chasing him with the camera);

Brown snake

     Satisfied with our safari, we drove back to the main road to take in the Bunda Cliffs, towering limestone walls overlooking the Southern Ocean that run nearly the entire length of the Australian Bight, over 1000 kilometers;

Diana looking west at the Bunda Cliffs

Kevin looking east

Diana looking down... see her there, right on the edge?

     There's a spot on the highway that is the designated landing strip for the flying doctors to land their planes, but I suspect it's as much for show as anything else, since I'm sure they set down where ever they need to in an emergency;

The runway is basically 1000 km long, why pick this spot?

    Well, that was enough site seeing for the day. We pointed the car east and drove, stopping to take showers at the Nullarbor roadhouse, then driving towards Ceduna looking for a place to camp. We ended up just driving a few kilometers up a side road and parking near a farm road. I fixed ginger stir fry with couscous and we went to bed.

Roughin' it

Sunday 10/14 Koonalda Homestead

Where's Elmer Fudd when you need him? Probably admiring old Holdens and Fords.

      I climbed out of the tent right around sunrise to check out our home for the day. First thing I noticed, hundreds of rabbits. Australia has a well-known feral rabbit problem, but with the introduction of a virus specific to rabbits, Myxoma, in the 1950's the population plummeted. It began to increase again with when resistance to the disease developed, but another, Calicivirs, was introduced in 1991 which again caused a plummeting of population. Of course each time the rabbit populations fell, feral foxes upped their daily intake of native critters. So now you see signs all over the country warning pet owners to keep their dogs out of certain areas because poison bait toxic only to Canis has been set out to try to control foxes.  Ah the English, also brought starlings and sparrows, as if the native birds weren't good enough.

       Thus far in our travels we hadn't seen that many bunnies. But the old Kanoolda Homestead is overrun with them. Their trails go off in every direction, and warren mounds up to a meter high are scattered around the property. Perhaps the disease introduction program hasn't had that much effect so far from any population center.

    Ever since I was a little kid I've loved auto junk yards. The homestead, besides being a sheep station, served as a roadhouse for the old Eyre Highway, a gravel road that connected South and West Australia. There are two yards filled with derelict cars that had probably been towed to Kanoolda when they broke down on the rough road and couldn't be fixed. When the new paved road was built in 1986 well south of the old road and much closer to the coast, the days of serving through traffic was over. So there is a nice collection of cars from the late 40's to the late 70's rusting away, and I wandered around taking photos in the early morning light.

The rabbits love building warren under the wrecks

      The peacefulness of the evening before turned to strong wind during the night. At first in the morning our west facing terrace protected us, but while I fixed breakfast the direction of the wind shifted it and began pushing out tent southward, sliding it along the concrete floor. We tore down camp and went for a hike.

The latest tenants of Kanoolda Homestead

A cool blow hole

     I've mentioned the thick mantle of limestone underlying the Nullarbor Plain. We'd gone out to the ocean to see a wave blow hole, but conditions were wrong for it to be in action when we were there. Another type of blow hole can be found further inland. There a narrow passage eroded by rainwater connects the surface to underground caverns. Again, under certain circumstances, air pressure, temperature, and wind, air will blow from the cavern through the blow hole. Simo had told us that about a kilometer up one of the old homestead pathways we could find a blow hole, and that the escaping air could blow your hat 10 meters into the sky. After a short walk we found the hole, but since the wind was so strong that it could itself elevate my hat into the upper atmosphere it seemed ridiculous to attempt such a launch above the blow hole. But there was a very nice chilly breeze emanating from the cavern, and after sitting above it and nearly in it were reluctant to leave and return to the homestead in the heat.

Blow hole, cool 60 F air venting from the ground

There are flies, damned flies and Australian flies

     While we're talking about blow holes, allow me to vent about Aussie flies (ha ha, get it , vent... blow holes... I amuse myself). There is nothing in existence, so far in my experience, as annoying as the flies that populate the outback. Chalk board scratching, snoring, leaking roofs, these are a few of my most annoying things. But the Oz Outback flies take the cake. They seem innocent enough, slightly smaller versions of our house flies. They don't bite, they don't sting, they don't even really like getting on you food. What they covet is faces. They swarm about, landing on your cheeks, lips, eyes, nose, trying to crawl into your nostrils or into your ears. Aussies have a difference of opinion as to what they seek on the human face, could be moisture, could be salt, but they seem to detest them as much as we do, although we were talking to one Australian who blithely continued a conversation with us as a fly explored his hairy nostril.

     They only come out during daylight hours, and the hotter the temperature, the better. I've tried to steel myself to their presence, knowing that they really mean me no harm, but when one of the buggers gets stuck between your glasses and you eyes, or crawls along your lip, or lands on the tip or your nose and starts spelunking, then it's impossible not to go a little bit crazy. You'd think a strong wind, which Oz has plenty of and might classify as my second most annoying feature of the continent, would blow them away, but anything less than a good flag-snapping gale is useless. They do favor the lee side of your body in the wind, and it's nothing to see a dozen or more flies resting on your partners back as you walk into the wind. Of course the return trip is a different story and the eddies and whorls created by your head makes a favored hover and landing zone. We've heard that as we go north towards the tropics the fly problem abates. But then it's the mozzies that go after you.

     We got back to the car and drove the 6 km to the Kanoolda Cave. It is completely shut down to visitors to protect its cultural features, but it's an awesome sight to behold, even from above. We enjoyed watching the sparrows and kestrels soar in and out of the cave on the winds coming from beneath the earth.

Kanoolda Cave

     We went back to the homestead and looked around the old shearers shed. Then we took over the shearers kitchen to do some writing, not that there was anyone else around. It was quite warm in there, but at least it was fly free.

Shearer's Shed

Kevin writing blog in shearer's kitchen

     One of the posts holding up the veranda on the main house is a reused timber that has a very nice mortised hole in it. I examined it closely, admiring the craftsmanship, and pondering the fate of all fine hand work and the people who have mastered it. I've made a number of mortise joints myself. You mark the opening carefully with a  pencil to precise dimensions, down to the width of the pencil tip itself, get a finely honed chisel, and with a hammer carefully carve out wood until the desired result is achieved. You're never quite satisfied with the end product, maybe because your initial chisel cuts were off by a fraction of a degree, or the sides of the cut weren't glass smooth. But when you slip the similarly worked tenon into the mortise and feel how smoothly and securely the two pieces fit together, there's a degree of satisfaction that overcomes the sense that it wasn't quite perfect.

Mortise in old post

     Some carpenter made this mortise a long time ago. He worked carefully, thinking that no one else would ever examine his work but knowing that he'd worked the joint quickly and well enough. Then at some point years later someone took the mortised and tenoned pieces apart and used the big beam to support the roof of the terrace. And now even that use of the timber has become only a part of a tourist's curiosity.

     Such is the Kanoolda homestead on a grand scale, built from discarded railroad ties of the old rain line and reused window frames from the obsolete telegraph station, and now itself abandoned. And surrounded by wrecked old cars that were once the pride and joy of their original owners.

     We ate leftover roo bourginon and watched the sunset, then slept in the shearer's kitchen to stay out of the winds that were just picking up.

Saturday, 10/13 Cactus Beach, west of Ceduna, SA to Koonalda Homestead, Nullarbor NP

Surfers and wombats

      We got out of the LC at sunrise and walked down to the beach to watch four surfers already catching waves. The wind had died down from the previous couple days, and the waves coming directly onto the beach were barely breaking. But off several hundred meters on the right side of the beach there is a break that causes the water to rear up into a famous set of waves. Today they were probably only a few meters high, but it was enough to carry the surfers on a pretty good ride. Like most surfing, however, the real action was punctuated by long periods of waiting. I guess it's sort of like watching football, except without the comfy couch and beer and Doritos.

Cactus Beach

     The campground is very interesting. Surfers first started coming to Cactus Beach, which is a long way from anywhere, in the late '60s and used the area behind the dunes to camp. In 1986 a fellow named Ronnie took over management and created a semblance of order. He's still there, wiry surfer build, long-gray hair under a bush hat,  keeping tabs on everything when he's not surfing in Indonesia or Hawaii, or Africa.  There are flush toilets set in stone huts, barbeques made of a metal barrel with a swing top lid and set on a pole so they can be rotated depending on the direction of the wind, and a shelter with sink for washing dishes, and another for doing laundry.

Breakfast

Don't know how they fit that tipi in that tiny car

     There is guy living at the campground in an old trailer who has definitely outstayed the 12 week limit, he's been there for five years. He appears to be about our age, coughs a lot, and talks to himself, but he I'm pretty sure he's a surfer.

This guy has been here for 5 years, it's a long drive to get a beer!

     The area north and west of Cactus Beach it at the edge of the wheat growing area of Eyre Peninsula, and there are some beautiful rolling fields of grain bordered by bands of gum trees.

     Within a few miles all agricultural activity had disappeared and we were driving through a more typical Australian landscape of gumtree woods and open grasslands. As we were passing one large open area I noticed what looked like giant prairie dog towns. We took a short drive up a dirt road to investigate and found this;

Wombat hole

      That would explain the numerous dead wombats along the road, up to three or four in a 100 meter stretch. The adults are the size and shape of miniature black bears, so the carcasses can be quite large. They are purely nocturnal except in the coldest weather, so we haven't seen a live one in the wild yet, but with their dark gray fur they'd be almost impossible to see lumbering across the road at night.

      A 150 km stretch of the road passes through the Yalata Aboriginal Reserve. We didn't see a single sign of human presence until drove a short way off the road to pass through the small town of Yalata. It was a depressing sight. Prefab houses made up the majority of the buildings, although there were a few run down site-built homes. There were a number of junked cars scattered about, and trash nearly everywhere, dirty old blankets making up a fair amount of the mess. People were out walking around or sitting on front porches. There was no commercial activity that we could see, the police station surrounded by a high steel fence was the only other building there. The closest minimal shopping would be at the Nundroo Roadhouse, 55 km away, or Penong, with a small grocery store, 140 km away. The closest real town is Ceduna, 202 km away, and we did see a couple dozen aboriginals there, very much separated from the local white people.
    I know almost nothing about the current relationship between aboriginal communities and the government, how they are supported, what the sovereignty issues are. I do know that among almost all the white Aussies we've met there is a fear and distrust that is disconcerting to us. Perhaps it's a generational issue, since most of the people we've talked to are retirees. Certainly we didn't get that feeling from Kim. We'll have to ask her about it when we see her again in December.

Max and Andy, World Travelers

     Just past the Yalata Community we saw a 'push biker' riding down the lonesome road towards us, loaded with paniers and properly attired for a road trek. Our first long distance biker! Diana got our the camera and got a quick photo;

We were hoping to see some of the above (that guy on the right is a wombat)...

... but spotted a couple of these instead

     About 25 kilometers later we saw another bloke on a bike pulling into a rest area. I gave him a smile and thumbs up and he returned the greeting. After a few hundred meters I decided to turn around and see if I could chat him up. He was off his bike about to refill water bottles at the water tank there. I said hi to him and told him we could give him some real drinking water. I asked where he had started his ride, expecting to hear Perth, but he answered London!

      We ended up talking for almost a half an hour. He and his friend Andy, who we'd seen earlier, left England in August 2011, rode through Europe, Turkey, Iran, the 'stans of central Asia, China, Laos, Malaysia, and then to Perth. No real problems the entire way, just lots of friendly people. I could have talked to him for hours, but we all had our own travels to continue. He's also keeping a blog, which I'm anxious to read when I get a chance.

Nullarbor means 'No Trees' in Latin, but doesn't mean you won't see any whales or caves there

     Soon after leaving Max we hit the boundary for the Nullarbor Plain. The transition was fairly sudden. Through most of the Yalata country there was total tree cover, not thick like a jungle, more like the woods in northern Michigan, except gum trees instead of birch and pine. Then, within the space of less than 15 kilometers they thinned out and were gone. Nothing but flat land and salt and blue bush shrubs.

     One of the most anticipated animal sightings for me was seeing the Southern Right Whales at the Head of the Bight along the coast on the Nullabor Plain. The whales leave the cold, nutrient rich waters of Antarctica to give birth to and raise their calves during the winter months in the warmer waters off the south coast of Australia. The babies gain up to 230 pounds a day nursing, and when they have put on a thick enough layer of fat, mother and calf return to their feeding grounds. The time to see the whales is from May to the end of October, and I was afraid we might be arriving too late.

     But after paying our entry fee and walking the short boardwalk to the edge of the cliff we were delighted to see on mother/ calf pair just a couple hundred meters off shore, with three other pairs within sight. At the peak over 20 pairs can be seen, but we were satisfied.

"Hey mate, the whales are that way"  "Thanks"  "No worries"

Looking at the Right Whale

Mother and child

      We had been warned that the Right Whales are a lot less active than the Humpback Whales we'd seen at Coff's Harbor, and they did mostly float around like black submarines, occasionally showing a tail fluke or poking their noses above the water. But it was thrilling nonetheless.

      We had a lunch of Tasty, vegemite and onion sandwiches at a picnic shelter there, then headed on down the road to the Nullarbor Roadhouse. A combination gas station, store, bar, motel, campground, it's one of a series of roadhouses spread out at approximately 150 to 200 km intervals along the empty roads of Australia. Not glamorous or exciting, but on thousands of miles of roads in the outback it is the only sign of civilization. We filled up the tank with fairly expensive gas and asked the way to the Murrawijenie caves. “Out along the gravel road, back around the wind mill, and then it's about 20 k's, but the roads really rough”.

Meh, not so bad for Oz outback roads. We're starting to get used to them, and have gained confidence that the LC isn't going to fall apart bouncing over the corrugations, potholes, and rocky patches that are typical for much of the rougher roads we've been on. Most are rated 4wd, but that's mostly for when it rains. You can see long dried ruts that would be a problem if muddy, but with less than 8 inches a rain a year for this part of the country, that doesn't happen very often. Still, the higher clearance and sturdy new all terrain tires are helpful.

     The whole southern coast of Australia from the Eyre peninsula to well into Western Australia is made of limestone laid down from an ancient sea 100's of millions of years ago. The rock is riddled with cave and channels, all quite unapparent until you come right up to them. We didn't see the Murrawijenie caves until we drove right up to them. These caves are open to the public, although we haven't met anyone yet who has heard of them, and we explored all three.

The view of the cave from ground level

Now how do we get down there?

Oh, I'm sure that dead old tree will hold your weight, Diana

Looking for Aboriginal art

Found it

Now how did I get down here?

     We got back to the main road and headed to the Nullarbor National Park to camp for the night. Interestingly, we began to see trees again after just a couple hundred kilometers of nullarborness, although further north it's over 1100 km wide. It is still arid and unpopulated, but most of Oz is the same. Heck, I'm sure west Texas has at least three or four roads that go that far without trees, and don't even get me started on Nevada. Still, most of the south coast is called the Nullarbor Plain, trees and all, and I guess we'll just have to leave it at that.

      Only one of our four map sources actually showed a campground in the park, which was supposed to be near an old homestead, a good 25 km off the main road. As we headed off yet another rough dirt road at sunset, trying to figure out which route to follow to find the campsite, we were about to give up and just set up camp in the bush.

      It's become a joke between us that after driving over a long rough road I keep saying I'd be surprised if there is anyone at the campsite by the time we get there, and sure enough, the are usually three or four other vehicles there already set up for the night. As we drove up the road I saw the glint of fading sunlight reflecting off several car windows among the scattered trees and I laughed, “yep, lots of campers here.” But as we drove up to the abandoned house we realized that there were hundreds of junked cars scattered around the property.

Kanoolda Homestead

    There was one group of campers there, six young people and a guide named Simo, (short for Simon, many Aussies have nicknames and the easiest way to make one is drop off the last letter or more of your name and add on “o”, so you can now call us Kevo and Diano, or Dino, or... well, maybe we better leave well enough alone). Simo said we could set up camp pretty much any where we wanted, so we chose the front porch of the old house. Put up our tent and table right on the veranda facing the setting sun and cooked roo bourginon and had a perfectly peaceful night.