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Salad wraps and carrot sticks at 8:30am to avoid a $30,000 fine was our last meal in the Northern Territory as we left Kulgera and headed south towards the fruit fly free zone of South Australia.
The flat lands became flatter, and the trees sparser as we approached the moonscape of the Coober Pedy opal fields. A few days was spent exploring the random blip of civilisation in the middle of the desert, with their underground hotels, churches and houses. The unrelenting desert winds cut through us like knives on our morning run, so we decided this was not the place for us and it was time to move on.
East along William Creek Road towards the Oodnadatta Track, 600 km of corrugated gravel road lay ahead of us. We past the ‘Dog Fence’, a continuous fence 3 times longer than the great wall of China, across four states marking the divide between cattle and sheep country. We found a camp at Coward Springs, a supply stop on the old Ghan Route. A water bore drilled in the late 1800’s, and still flowing freely from the great artesian basin gave us a nice warm bath to wash the dust away.
Further east we past the southern section of Lake Eyre, a white salt flat spreading inland as far as the eye can see. We also discovered some natural mound springs, lumps of earth built up over millions of years by the water flowing from the great artesian basin. Water flowing from it was aged over 2 million years after entering the ground near the great dividing range in central Queensland, in the time of dinosaurs. That makes you think!
The northern Flinders Ranges and Arkaroola in the Gamon Ranges was our destination, but we needed a half way stop. An attempted set up at the historic town of Farina ended with our camper almost collapsing in the gale forced desert winds, so we headed further into the hills and stopped at Iga Warta for the night. A tense night due to the gale forces winds, and a few outings to tighten the guy ropes, gave me less confidence in the structural soundness of our little Swanny, but we made it through the night.
Arriving in Arkaroola, I had flash backs of the beautiful ancient rocky mountain range from a family holiday when I was ten. The geological features and formations, the tectonic movements, the complex rocks, crystals, minerals and gems formed billions of years ago were way beyond my understanding from my preliminary geological studies of GEO217 twenty years prior.
A few days submerged in this dry ragged environment saw us face to face with an emu and his thirteen chicks feeding at our camper, echidnas meandering through the dry creek beds, the beautiful and timid yellow footed rock wallabies clinging precariously from the jaggered rock slopes and mountain goats scurrying. A beautiful but strenuous hike over the Acacia Ridge gave us an eagle nest view of the surrounds, and it allowed us to meet a young couple of doctors living their ‘Big Year!’.
We have missed the 'pop in' since we have been on the road, but an evening visit from our new found friends Karen and Sinel fulfilled that hole. They are in the middle of living ‘The Year’ with a four month Land Rover Discovery trip to some of the most isolated places in Australia, throwing a wedding in the luxurious Wangan Valley in the Blue Mountains, followed by a whirl-wind around the world trip via the ski slopes of France! For a moment, we lived vicariously in their shoes, reminiscing of our kid free days, while at the same time, they were in awe of our ability to travel with young kids.
We woke to a beautiful sunrise over the Ranges, emus breakfasting at our door, and a run in the crisp air through the hills. We realised our 'lot' was not too bad!
Out of the jaggered Gamon Ranges and into the twisted and folded Flinders Ranges we headed. Our drive south skirted the flat lands to the east of the Ranges and a glimpse of Lake Frome on the horizon, another endless salt lake. We passed Blinman, the highest town in South Australia at 900m elevation, and were shocked with the fresh crisp mountain air. A home made pie from the local Bakery and we kept going to arrive at Rawnsley Park Station, located just south of Wilpena Pound with majestic views of the bluffs surrounding the Pound.
A day of exploring the beauty and geological significance of the Flinders Ranges with a drive through the exceptional Bunyaroo and Barachina Gorges. The layers of earth and rock were folded and carved through over millions of years to expose 130 million years of earths history, climate and evidence of who was roaming around.
The next day involved a leasurely stroll into Wilpena Pound along Wilpena Creek. Theo continued to entertain us with running races to every one of the magestic giant River Red Gums, and past the golden flowering wattle trees. A relatively strenuous climb to Wangara Hill lookout to take in the circumference of the pound, Theo didn’t miss a beat and without much complaining knocked off another 7km return on those tiny little legs.
Rawnsley Bluff had been gazing down at us during our stay reflecting the spectacular red glow of sunset, so on our last morning there, I fell to temptation. I woke in the dark and snuck out of the camper to ascend the giant cliff face. The run out in the glow of moonlight, saw me waking sleeping sheep, and scaring dozing kangaroos. I ascended over 500 metres, scrambling up land slide scree slopes, bashing my way through thick eucalyptus forest, and scaling sheer cliffs before running to the point of the Bluff, at the moment the sun crested the horizon. An amazing 360 view was the reward with the pound over one shoulder, and the sheer cliffs and folded Ranges waking in the soft glow of the morning sun.
Theo’s collection of steam train experiences was slowly growing with the Western Wilderness Explorer in Strahan, Ida Bay Railway at the South East Cape, Puffing Billy in the Dandenongs, the Kuranda Scenic Railway, the Savannah and Gulf Landers on the Cape, and now the Pitchie Ritchie in Quorn.
We said our farewells to Wilpena and headed further south in the Ranges. As Quorn was booked out, we had to look further afield and found a gem of a farm stay at Argadell’s Station. Nestled in the shadow of the southern Flinders Ranges, the immaculate homestead was beautifully renovated, and the powered sites with ensuite bathrooms was luxury at its finest compared to some of our previous experiences!
Bern oriented herself with an early morning 10 km run into the nearby Gorge and I followed suit to experience the rolling hills on the far side of the gap. We then packed the kids up for a half hour drive into Quorn dodging emus and kangaroos to catch the Pitchi Ritchi Rail. The town was inundated with grey nomads as far as the eye could see, quickly getting their fix of English tea and scones before boarding the historic railway. We found ourselves a window seat and waited for the steam to build up, and the majestic black engine to take flight. It was more like a slow chug through the winding valleys and over the passes, but we did get the blinding burning sensation from the fine black soot in our eyes, just like in ye olden days. Transport has really come a long way from when this was technologically advanced!
We lunched in Quorn after the plague of nomads had left town, and found a gorgeous, historic, quiet little town, and a lovely little cafe with great coffee and food. The cafe owner even offered us the extra packed lunches not devoured by the oldies.
Argadell’s and the Southern Flinders Ranges are known for its 4wding. Rough terrain, steep tracks, sandy river beds, and rocky outcrops. We figured that given we had a Prado, and we were here, it would be a shame not to test it out. So we drove through the gap and set off for Mount Arden, the highest peak in the southern Ranges. We followed the tracks which wound through valleys, over creek beds, and before we could change our mind, up 20 degree slopes on the side of a mountain. The Prado and driver performed miraculously, hardly slipping under the loose surface, even through the panicked high pitch squeals from Bern, and the enthusiastic chant from Theo in the back “You can do it Prado, You can do it Prado”.
We summited Mt Arden, and the views were exceptional extending for 100's of kilometres in all directions, although the wind blasting our faces cut short the sight seeing. Some terrifying descents were ahead of us with the road dropping away below the bonnet, but yet again, the Prado managed brilliantly with not a wince of effort climbing some tough tracks and gripping to the gravel on descent with confidence. Bern was less confident and somewhat terrified, and did once offer to take the kids and walk home, but I managed to convince her to stay the distance.
It felt like our last ‘rough’ experience for the trip as we set our targets on the more populated and greener areas of Adelaide and the Fleurieu Peninsular.
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