30^th May. 21kms west of Gilgandra.

Good to get back on the road. 570 kms was a good days drive considering it was after 9am before we pulled out of Bellingen and flood damage along the way caused delays. It’s a big country and when you look at a map and see what that distance covers it seems puny. Still here we are, in an off road parking area, covered up against the cold southerly and sipping on a nice red while listening to ‘Jazz Track’ on the ABC. Things could be worse.

Broken Hill was to be our destination tomorrow night but .looking at the map a visit to the Menindee Lakes seems a good place to spend your birthday. Will see how the roads are tomorrow.

These plains are so vast out here and with the sun lower in the sky have a certain beauty. Different to the New England area, a place I love with its rocky outcrops, trout filled streams and autumn colours.

Lake Eyre filling with water was the reason for us to head west. It doesn’t happen that often and while in the area thought a drive up the once notorious Birdsville Track would be a good way to come home.

31^st May 75kms east of Broken Hill

Such an interesting country. Did 660 kms today, mostly over flat unexciting plains mostly cultivated at the beginning of the day’s drive but ending up scrubby red soiled expanses, dry river beds and endless straights. Yet there have been quite a few surprises for someone who had been out this way last over 30 years ago when we used to live in the Alice and would drive dementedly to Sydney for a departure to NZ or elsewhere. Looking back now I wonder why the hell we didn’t catch a plane.

We didn’t expect to see so many herds of goats seeming to be running wild. For the last few hundred kms they have been the most evident animals. I don’t know if they are farmed for their meat or not. Then there are the apostle birds, a very communal breed that seem to congregate along the road. We first met up with them at a dam in Qld where we were spending the night when suddenly this flock flew in and hurried around our site seeming to talk animatedly to each other quite unconcerned with our proximity. Saw a few foxes on the drive as well as the odd dingo.

The towns are another surprise: ones like Cobar, well kept, modern with a well equipped supermarket run by the Khan family. The next place you come to is Wilcannia where most of the shops are closed, bars and steel lattice cover any that are open, the only signs of life are around the servo and no doubt the hospital. The Darling River flows through Wilcannia, a muddy brown stretch of water that once had paddle steamers plying their trade up to Bourke. Now you would be lucky to navigate a tinny on it.

The camping area here is part of a roadhouse area. We thought we would patronise the restaurant for a birthday meal. They must have thought us plebes asking for red wine that came out from the cool room almost frozen in midi glasses. Our eyes must have seen bigger than our stomachs when the meal arrived: a chicken parmigiana that took up a third of the plate, the other two thirds being taken up with 9 different vegies with a pile of chips sitting on top. No wonder the truckies have a good size gut on most of them.

1^st June 30kms west of Broken Hill

A cold miserable day. Not the best to do a bit of sight seeing but as we intended staying one day we headed off to the sculptures in the desert. An interesting display of sculptures carved by artists from Georgia, Mexico, Tiwi Islands, Australia and other places. It was then on to Silverton, once a town bigger than Broken Hill but died once the richer lode was discovered in the latter city. We were going to spend the night in one pf the camp sites in the city but we don’t really need a shower after only three days on the road. Besides, Joan said it was too cold to walk across to the showers anyhow. We headed out of BH and stopped n an off road area sharing it with a massive mine truck on the back of a prime mover.

2^nd June Rawnsley Park Station. Near Wilpenna Pound, Flinders Rangers.

We always get caught out on these fruit quarantine regulations: we knew we couldn’t take any fruit or veges across the fruit fly exclusion zone. So we didn’t. Thinking we were ok then we bought a bit of fruit in Broken Hill, only to find that had to be thrown away a further 200 kms on. So Peterborough was the recipient of our money to stock the fruit bowl. A nice town steeped in railway history. It appears this was the junction for different lines that headed north, south, west and east to the eastern states.

So on to Wilpenna Pound the next day. The national park is very well organized as a resort as well as for camping. The walks have good signage. The Pound itself is quite amazing when looked from a height. This we did by climbing the gruelling Mt Ohlssen Bagge. A 6km walk over a rough track that included clambering over sheets of rock and rubble. The view from the top was impressive both of the Pound as well as to the east to Lake Fromme, a salt lake in the distance. Normally coming down is easier but on this occasion it took almost as long. A shower and a bottle of stout to re-energise the body was the order of the day. I was amazed at Joan’s stamina, how she persevered after taking a couple of nasty falls.