Back on the road

After four nights in Denham (Shark Bay), we pressed on via Hamelin Station, Carnarvon, Nanutarra and Tom Price en route to Karijini National Park, whose fantastical rocks deserve a post all to themselves. Hamersley Range (National Park) had long been a destination I knew must be added to the Big Trip itinerary. Its name was changed in 1991 to Karijini, which means ‘hilly place’ in Banyjimi, one of three groups of Traditional Owners who inhabit the area straddled by the Range.

By the time we reached Hamelin Station it was hotting up: the diary speculates it was over 30 in the mid-afternoon sun. The next day – Day 58 Hamelin Station to Carnarvon – a weather front split the sky as we crossed the 26th Parallel. There was a lookout over an immense plain. But narcissistic numpties had seen fit to deface the earth. I wondered briefly how long it had taken them to collect enough stones.

We reached Carnarvon by middayish, but couldn’t find a nice cafe for lunch. So we bought two very ordinary rolls from a bakery and ate them by a windy waterway. My friend power-jetted The Van at a petrol station next to the campsite. Later, we tried, and failed, to find a harbour-side restaurant we’d identified online; so we went to the Hotel, which was rammed. I ate extremely garlicky prawns while my friend tucked into spare ribs. And that was that for Carnarvon.

Paul woz ’ere but not with Josh

On Day 59 we crossed the Tropic of Capricorn: crossing a Tropic is always momentous. And just look at that sky. It was warming up nicely, with max temps between 24 and 26 degrees by afternoon. Once that cloud bank had shifted out of the way, there was nothing much wrong with the world.

During Day 59, Carnarvon to Nanutarra, the landscape slowly changed as we drove alongside, or through, well-vegetated dunes. On my first visit to Australia, the flightpath crossed the northwest coast of WA not far from here. I recall looking down on seemingly endless parallel lines that I assumed were dunes, and being determined to explore them on the ground one day. Here they were, at last.

Through the dune

A mesa, or tabletop

Rous Creek

Ptilotus appendiculatus. No common name found

I loved the fact that these little flowers grew over any surface they came to, including bare rock: clever desert blooms. Incidentally, my friend and I are still debating which way up the first image should be. Is there such a thing as ‘the right way up’, and does it matter if they’re not? Would anybody know or be able to tell the difference?

We arrived at Nanutarra campsite to be told by a flustered manager that we had no booking. Fortunately, I had two emails to the contrary, so he ‘managed to fit us in’! Once we hooked up in our spot, I was reluctant to drive anywhere else. We had a cuppa before walking over an old footbridge as the sun went down: numerous cockatiels were getting ready to roost.

Murchison River at dusk

Have we had a desert sunset recently? They’re pretty vivid.

‘A mining town if ever there was one’

Day 60: Nanaturra to Tom Price. We made an early start and breakfasted on the road. The landscape was altogether more interesting once we turned off Highway 1 on to the Nanutarra-Witternoom Road (the 136). The bitumen ran out suddenly, and unexpectedly. Driving over corrugations requires greater concentration and stamina, and I didn’t fancy walking around Tom Price for long once we arrived. There was a constant background thrum from 24-hour mining operations around and about. Later the bars filled up with miners!

I concluded a long time ago, during our first forays from Brisbane into Queensland’s outback, that you cannot beat an early-morning getaway for a day on the road, especially if the sun is shining and and you’ve little idea what lies ahead. And breakfast on the road will never cease to please me.

Breakfast by the Nanutarra-Wittenoom Road