Flinders Ranges to Oodnadatta Track

This is shaping up to be a great trip. There have been a few main objectives and one of them is to experience a wholly different environment to that we have become so used to – the desert. We have made progressive steps by way of the Mungo NP out of Balranald, Kinchega NP just on the west banks of a much withered Darling. Thence to Broken Hill, where we made up again with some new chums from Sydney who were great fun. Their gearbox failed and they were obliged to take a few days in BH whilst their Land Cruiser was taken down to Adelaide to have it rekindled. I hope we are spared that sort of experience but they were taking it philosophically. Every where we have been there are worthwhile things to learn. The history of the mining and the pastoralist experience is extraordinary. You all learnt about it at school of course and I am just doing some catching up! Broken Hill has some marvellous Victorian and Art Deco civic buildings built in mining heyday - this is Trades Hall.

We cooked up a storm in BH to use up all the fresh fruit and veges that we could before crossing into SA, where Helen shed a tear having to hand over one of her lovingly nurtured pumpkins from home. As we moved south and west the countryside greened up a little towards Peterborough. We stopped at a little garage in Orroroo and had the oil changed because we will be well over our regular service by the time we get to Alice. We enjoyed a night at a little place with just an old stone pub, called Cradock. Great food – goat stew – and then a cold night beside the creek before fuelling up at Hawker, and then into the Flinders Ranges proper.

Approaching the ranges was special. They draw you in from afar. The geology is striking immediately and we knew we were in for something special. As you approach there is a rock called Arakoo about a kilometre walk away, with aboriginal paintings. I’ve seen Lascaux but when you see these without any of the fuss, impressive. Superlatives will be avoided where possible! We walked into Wilpena Pound along the creek afterwards. We were both surprised and a little disappointed. It is smaller and more treed than I imagined, and whilst a fine place we did have that feeling of “what’s all the fuss about”. That afternoon we drove northwards within the Park, to a camping spot called East Brachina which is one of several along the “geological trail”. This is really what the Flinders is all about. The geology is gobsmacking frankly. With rock formations dating as far back as 600m years, and its own newly recognised period called the Ediacarian, when the first soft bodied creatures appeared; extraordinary. Mawson spent a lot of time exploring in these ranges and has a range named in his honour. One of his students was a chap called Reg Sprigg who in 1961 purchased a large unworkable property called Arkaroola in the northern part of the North Flinders Ranges. He turned it into a conservation park especially with the yellow footed wallaby in mind. There are good facilities there and we took a couple of days to do a self drive 4WD trek that was EXTREME by my reckoning (but inspired a lot of confidence in the Prado), and an evening in their observatory on a cloudless and moonless night. The stars were as I have never seen them – even at Currango. The Sombrero galaxy, a globular cluster of 50m stars looking to the naked eye as if it were one, Alpha Centauri (bottom of the two pointers) which is in fact two, or a binary star, capped off with a view of Saturn looking like a big dinner plate on its edge.

A night at Grindells Hut in the wilds of Gammon Range NP, where a gruesome murder was committed in 1918, (we slept OK), was followed by a drive out onto the Plains to Leigh Creek where we attempted to get a blog off, but were beaten by the technology! Next G coverage has been the limiting factor, and it is not that good. H has been quizzing everyone wherever she goes and the customers are not happy I’m afraid. We spent a night at Marree last night and had a good steak at the pub. Six staff this time last year and two now. Williams Creek tonight where there are meant to be 10 residents (it is Australia’s smallest town) and we are down to 4. Drought has reduced jobs so much that everyone‘s vacating. So today we have driven a third of the Oodnadatta Track alongside the Old Ghan. Ruined fettlers' cottages and old railway works like bridges and desalination tanks, pepper the roadside with great regularity. Desert everywhere. Then, an oasis at a water hole, or bubbling springs in the middle of nowhere. This afternoon we had a natural spa at Coward Springs!