Sunday 8th May

All night there is a gusty wind and the occasional drops of rain, no stars shine through the grey blanket of sky and we wake to a soft pink glow in the East with a cacophony of twisted clouds that muffle the dawn.

We are camped on a gravel hillock, ironstone red pebbles, like marbles cover the ground and hardy bushes and shrubs eek out an existence in an almost waterless landscape. The colours the evening before were subtle but endearing, ochres, olives, oxides and greys - a landscape older than time it's self.

Thursday 5th May

We drove off about 11am, Bruce had left Brisbane about an Hour before and Rod had left a couple of hours earlier. We were headed for our meeting point at Chelmer Station Nindigully.

A small car had run off the road near Kindon and we were held up for a few minutes, most of the mayhem had already been cleared from the road. We stopped for lunch a little way west and some time later the careflight helicopter circled overhead. Lets hope the people are allright.

We catch up witrh Rod in Taloom, west of Gundy. Rod's Amaroc is very fuel efficient so he motors on ahead and we bring up the rear at a more sedate pace. We still arrive like the tortoise first, as the hare had ducked down to the Nindigully Pub to see the hoards of Victorian caravaners who haunt such locations.

Well Chelmer was buzzing, as we all sat around to take in a sundowner. Jeff regales us with the grisly story of the Emu and the Vietminese visitors. They want to see an Emu up close and so Jeff gets out his rifle and, bang one is down. They drive over to view the victim, but the victim is only half dead, so in a rash moment, Jeff decides to make it road kill and runs over the poor beast. Well he hits it at an angle which is unfortunate, well guts go flying West and feathers shoot to the East.

Any final groan of departing life from the Emu is drowned by the horrified gasps of the three Vietmanese tourists in the back of the ute.

The conversation moves on and later in the evening after a sumptious meal of local lamb chops we are pearched around the map trying to decide exactly which route to take as we cross the desert and reach the three corners.

FRIDAY

Mixing grain

Lunch at Chelmer

We leave at around 2pm

Fuel St George

Meet Jeff and Wendy in Bollon

Drive on to Nebine Creek and camp by the river gums

SATURDAY

Slow start

Drive to Cunnamulla - morning tea in the Park

At Eulo we buy a nice leather belt

We wander around the mud springs but nothing is bubbling. The mounds of mud are 10 feet high and springy like a sluggish trampoline.

We reach Thrgomindah - the fuel station is closed till the morning.

A brief shower of rain and we decant some fuel and soon we are headed for innaminka.

We camp about an hour out of Thargo on a rocky hill. The wind blows a few drops of rain, the flies celebrate our arrival. We sit by a wind swept fire and chat. Even with the wind it is a memorable campsite.

SUNDAY

Still no rain, just lots of flies and wind. We head West towards the Nocundra turn off. Bruce is in the lead and spots eagles and plains turkeys. We talk on the two way. A local chap chimes in. Tells us we can refuel at Noccundra pub. We deviate and have morning tea, fuel and a chat.

We turn onto the Adventure Way, out through Jackson Oil Fields and we are getting out now. The landscape is often bear of any vegetation for thousands of acres, stunted trees hug the water courses and other areas where the soil or moisture is just enough.

The road is still bitumen and just before we hit a dirt section the rain hits us. It pounds on us, it churns the road into orange mud, it washes away the mud that our wheels throw up onto the windscreen. We hit a big slide, correct and later we search for the bottom of a bog hole that for awhile seems to have no bottom.

The road is corrugated so we try and maintain a fluid run over the corrugations but the road is also slippery so we have to hold down the speed. We wrestle with the road like a long slimy brown snake that is trying to roll us over. The rain is like the snake's accomplice, pouring a torrent down onto the battle. Jeff calls he has reached the blacktop - we fight on and eventually our wheels are on a solid base again. We disengage 4 wheel drive and relax. The rain seems to slacken a bit and we drive on.

Further down the road we come to a creek crossing, the caramel water charges across the road half a meter deep. There is no way Bruc is going to get his van through the torrent, he would be washed into the creek bed almost immediately. We have a cuppa in the camper, the water rises and then it drops back a few inches but no where near enough. We backtrack further from the creek and Jeff finds a gravel dump where we can camp for the night.

When everyone is set up for the night, everyone comes over to the Café Camper for drinks and Jeff and Wendy stay on for tea. We talk and the rain persists. We chat and the torrent pounds at the roof. We laugh and the downpour rages on unabated. We go to bed and still the rain drums on our roof. Later in the night the rain stops and a fresh breeze blows in and by sunrise there are patches of blue and the rain army has marched away East leaving the landscape and us drenched.

MONDAY

After breakfast we walk down the road to see if the water has receded. Yes just ankle deep now so we make some speculations. Not much point going forward to try and get to Innaminka, so we will backtrack to Eromanga and make decisions from there.

So we pack up and toodle off back East. The road is often covered with flood debris. We pull a tree off the road that has washed onto the road during the flood. We find the start of the dirt section and ford the first of several flooded areas. Eventually we are pulled up. Too deep. Bruce has a lower wading depth than the Toyota or the Mazda. We find a spot to camp, the wind is blowing stiffly from the West.

Mal sets up Vicki as a windbreak but the wind sucks the smoke from the fire back to where we are sitting - so good to be out of the chill wind but the smoke is an ordeal.

TUESDAY

The creek has gone down over night so we are optimistic that all is well. We do another 2 km and we are stopped again, another creek still deeper than Bruce can cross. Jeff and Wendy decide they will head off as the water is not slowing them down. Sue and Mal will stay with Bruce. So we bid farewell and Jeff and Wendy disappear into the distance.

UHF radio - well we have not regretted fitting one. The call comes from Jeff - can you come and help we have sunk into quicksand in the middle of the road.

We pack up half of what we will eventually need and Bruce and I drive off to the rescue - lights flashing siren wailing its insistent cry.

We ford another six rivers that Bruce could never get acroiss and there stands the Toyota up to its guts in quicksand,. Well we assess, we hook up snatch straps to Mal's new tow points. We put on load sharing straps and fit Mal's rear recovery point to the Toyota. We get the thumbs up. Mal bounds back, but too slow the Toyota just pulls the Mazda to a stop.

We try again, Mal goes faster, twang, snap, crash, the busted snatch strap ploughs into the bull bar of the Mazda distorting the front grill and knocking one of the spot lights for a six.

One busted snatch strap and only about half a meter of recovery achieved.

Jeff will unload and Mal will go back for Bruce's snatch strap. Like I said we only brought half of what we needed.

Mal brings Sue back and the Toyota is stripped of heavy luggage. Sue suggests we put the Maxx Trax under the back wheels of the Toyota. We dig and dig to get the wet sand out and the Maxx Trax in. We are all set. We decide this will be a tow rather than a snatch. With the reduced weight and the Maxx Trax Jeff is able, with the assistance of the Mazda towing to reverse out of the bog.

Wendy and Sue are to walk ahead and see if they can reach the bitumen and assess further hazards. We will reload the Toyota. It takes us about an hour to reload the Toyota when along comes a six ton truck with three horses followed by a Triton ute driven by his girl friend.

They have spent 72 hours coming from Birdsville after a campdraft. They are from a property about 100ks away. The chap, Damian drives the ute at a fast pace around where the Toyota was bogged and is able to get to the other side. Mal is sckeptial he can get the truck across as the silt is so deep and the crossing too long. Others feel if he goes hard he will make it through.

He mucks up the first run. He comes at it again, he gets half a truck length in and he is doing well, he gets three quarters and the engine seems to drop some revs, he is seven eighths through but the sand wins and he is down and really bogged. That baby ain't going nowhere.

After some thought he takes the ute to go and look for help. The Mazda aint going to budge that big boy.

They drive off and the girls actually walk back before the ute returns. We talk about how to tackle the issue. We think probably cut brush and make a causeway - but not today.

We retreat, we will try tomorrow. We camp up on a hill, the wind has swung around further towards the South.

Jeff finds stones that look like they could have been used for grinding grass seeds, Sue finds trapdoor spider's lairs, Mal fiddles and Bruce writes his diary.

In the evening we sit at a campfire under the stars and chat about many things. Getting stuck is not all bad - the adventure is in the unexpected.

WEDNESDAY

Here we are at Quilpie after an interesting day. The road report says just about every road west and south of Windorah is closed and some are saying maybe for at least a week. So we are going to the pub for tea and then we will think about what comes next.

The morning opened bright and optimistic. The creek was down so we had a good run through to the spot where Jeff got bogged yesterday. The horse truck was gone and the road fairly churned from the rescue efforts of the grader that came to haul his arse out.

We had two soft spots to cross. We found one really soft spot in the first run and filled it with gravel and rocks. Jeff came through at a fair rate of knots and he made it but opened a wound that needed dressing.

Bruce came through and via the use of our combined stock of Maxx Trax - he made the first run with no problems. The BT50 needed some further road repair prior to the run and then we were all over the first soft patch. The second crossing proved easier and soon we were on the final run through to the bitumen.

We still had over 200km to go to Eromanga and over 300 to Quilpie, so we hopped to it and made the Cooper Creek bridge for a late smoko. The creek which was very low on the outbound trip was now running in the branches of trees that I had photographed the twisted thirst roots of three days earlier.

The flies waved a cheery good bye and we headed East. The road was good and it twisted and rolled with the swell of the hills and we turned onto the Eromanga Road finally.

The road crossed gibber country, with twisted trees some living some dead. Water lay in the drains by the road in various spots and the sky shone down blue without a cloud to mark the passing of the rain.

Eromanga has a very nicely conceived sculpture of three dinosaurs made of twisted aluminium pipe. Nice design but really crap welding - which means it is falling apart - what a shame.

Not even one horse was to be seen. The town is very quiet, we drove on and made a stop at Baldy k*** Lookout before checking into the caravan park.