Kimberley Karavan Kapers

As a result of kind, indulgent friends and family who generously, if not foolishly, offered words of encouragement, interest and praise in receiving our ‘Happenings’ reports during “Envy’s” cruising years – well, for your sins, you’ll now have to suffer our new KKK report “Kimberley Karavan Kapers”  (not Klu Klux Klan) regaling tales of our days of adventurous wanderings around Outback Oz.

We left Brisbane on a bright April Sunday morning, and already we’re pondering the Big Question To Be - or Not To Be.... QUICK, that is?  I mean, just how long is six months and how far is 15,000km – should we be going slower, or moving on more quickly? 

All loaded and ready to go!

This is our main concern as we rest in welcome Air-Conditioned comfort in the middle of a grassy red clay-pan at Adavale in Queensland’s central southwest, only about 108 km from (blink and you’ll miss it) Eromanga, the town furtherest from the ocean of anywhere in Australia – so I guess you could say we’ve now reached ‘The Outback’.

But we need to get this back into perspective and start our story at the beginning.

We departed our Cannon Hill home in excited haste 11am on Sunday 6^th April 2014 and drove off leaving the electric Garage door wide open allowing total entrée to the house, which a kindly neighbour’s phone text alerted us to the next morning, together with their prior remedial action. Door now closed!

Our Toyota Land Cruiser GXL pulled the 2+ tonne rig valiantly up the Range into Toowoomba, driving through heavy storm rain across the Darling Downs enroute to Dalby (fuel stop) and then on to Tara where we free camped on a side road 20km out, before heading into town next morning. 

1st Overnight stop outside Tara

 Tara’s a typical smallish country town which has been transformed by the Natural Gas Industry. Its Bakery basks in well deserved praise, and I’ll always remember Tara as my first managerial appointment as Relieving Branch Manager for a short period early in 1968.

Next morning we headed west through soft Brigalow Scrub country, stopping at Meandarra, presently a rural ‘Garden of Eden’ having received eleven inches (275mm) of drought breaking RAIN recently, resulting in abundant grazing feed, fence-high in places, assuring much needed economic relief for its pastoral industry.

 Meandarra boasts a small WW1/WW2 ANZAC Museum, which we visited, comprising mostly Tanks, light armoured vehicles, various field ordinance and war memorabilia, originating from an ex local collector.

Then on to the tiny village of Glenmorgan (only a café & a few houses) for lunch at the old Railway Station and a visit to nearby ‘Myall Park’, a privately owned grazing property Internationally acclaimed for its native Grevillea plants, research and propagation. Several new species of Grevillea have been bred and established here since the 1940’s.

Monty's Garage in Glenmorgan

The highlight to date was another visit to good friend Margaret Neill (Bruce’s 1980’s work colleague) at her “Newstead Station” Surat cattle property for a couple of days, with Bruce helping with weed spraying then fencing off the poisoned area. 

Bruce and Keith Fencing

Cattle close to the Homestead

 The property and its cattle both looking excellent after 4” of recent rain, but both Bush-flies and Sandflies gave us curry; some smoky fires were lit to protect ‘man and beast’, and it works! Buffel Grass, introduced for grazing pasture improvement in the 1970’s, is now beneficially prolific, if not somewhat invasive. 

Burning cow dung to ward off the sandflies!

Wednesday 9/4, we departed our Surat station-life adventures and drove to Roma, the largest town in the South West, where Oil, Gas and Grazing drive a thriving rural economy. Roma Cattle Saleyards are possibly Queensland’s largest, and the town centre is very busy. The packed Airport car park reflects the trend of ‘Fly In – Fly Out employment, with scores of 4wd’s crowding every space.

After some shopping and a Pub lunch in Roma, and we were back on the road again early arvo, passing through lovely open Downs grazing country, on via Muckadilla to Mitchell, where we enjoyed an attractive, pest free grassy camp spot on the bank of the Maranoa River, at the Neil Turner Weir a couple of kilometres behind town. The weir is terribly silted up with flooded sand, and its capacity seriously depleted by maybe 90%!! A lovely cool breeze blew, no flies, a special bottle of Moet Bubbles, and a Full Moon rising. Great spot!

Neil Turner Weir

Moet Bubbles to cheer our adventures on

 Day 5: Only the one night in Mitchell and, after a quick look around town next morning, Charleville – gateway to the far West, was in our sights. Initially the land was well grassed open Downs, and there were several roadworks stops before Morven (a coffee stop)

where we inspected the “Kerosene” Tin Shed made out of flattened kerosene drums, a common sight during the 1920/30’s recession. 

Early Settlers Kerosene Tin Hut

The country then started to change to hard sandy red soil ridges with Box flats offering sparse grazing, and now the start of the scented Gidgee and Mulga Scrub country. Huge triple-rig Road Trains thundered past us all along the Warrego Highway.

12 km east of town are Charleville’s “Rock Holes” Bush Camp; a hard red rocky area with large water filled holes, where we spent a pleasant quiet night camped in Mulga Scrub, and lit our first camp fire. The West’s notorious bush flies smothered us again, but thankfully disappear once the Sun goes down. Moon continues waxing, now about 2/3 full.

Charleville Rock Holes Camp

Dingo Carcasses left on the Roadside

 Friday - Day 6: Another peaceful sleep and off into Charleville by 8:30am. First call to the Camp Shop to buy 2 Hat Fly Nets – now we’re true ‘bushies’!  By 10am we are on our way to Adavale, with 48km bitumen then 140km dirt, our first this trip. Up til now it had been all bitumen roads, which we’d meandered along at 80kph, but we ‘smelt more roses’ along the unsealed dirt going at a leisurely 70kph, with a lunch stop beside (usually dry) Lake Dartmouth at Ambathala Creek Rest Area where our new Fly Vales were put to use warding off 7 trillion Flies!

Fly Veils to the rescue at Ambathala Creek

Charleville-Adavale Road

We trundled in to Adavale mid arvo, across the historical causeway at Blackwater Creek, and called on “Coss” at the Adavale Pub-cum-Store seeking directions for camp sites and, after checking out the Creek waterholes nearby, settled in the yard behind the old Community Hall to enjoy all their ‘home comforts’ on offer: Free Camping, Hot Showers, Toilets, new electric BBQ - and wait for it… free electricity, courtesy Quilpie Shire. Everything’s free in this real Outback Town.

Right to Left - Adavale Pub, Old disused post Office & Police Station

 I must confess to a long love affair with tiny, isolated, desolate Adavale (Pop: 20) these past 25 years. Imagine a very large, flat, treeless, red stony, gibber-strewn Moonscape with a few shanty houses on it – that’s how Adavale looked on my first visit back then. Now the town common even has some grass since the rain. 

 

Adavale landscape

Back then there was the ‘Bottle House’, an old iron shanty on the town common with maybe 800/1000 or more brown glass beer bottles thrown out the window, over many years, forming a pyramid up higher than the window sill, together with some old rusty truck bodies and a dilapidated windmill all adding to the desolation and charm of the Adavale claypan Common. Now it’s all gone - and with it a part of the town’s uniqueness. Indeed, the same period has presented a few new cottages in town plus rural power and two street lights. VALE old Adavale.

We had a BBQ that first night and just before sundown, Audrey almost stepped on a Snake slithering slowly by the BBQ slab, which caused much excitement even though it was only a small harmless ‘Children’s Python’.

The following night we were invited to the monthly “town & country get-together night” a free social evening including Dinner, where we dined with Adavale’s Policeman, Chris, a most unusual cop whose arms, neck and legs are totally covered with large colourful tattoos. Perhaps that’s why they posted him to tiny, remote Adavale; in any case he was very friendly and drove us home, having walked 250m to the Hall in fear of him and drink driving.

Then we met Glen and his son, a professional Beekeeper who has many Hives around Adavale and Toompine, which he tends monthly coming all the way from Warwick with two big trucks. Almost the best Honey we’ve ever tasted.

Next we met one of Adavale’s largest graziers, 74 yo Keith Shepherd who invited us to one of his cattle stations only 12km from town to watch them load cattle onto a road train. There by 7am we watched the helicopter muster the Brahman cross cattle into the all-steel yards, following which we returned to the nearby homestead for a cuppa Tea.

The ‘sale cattle’ had to be drafted off from the mob of 200+ head and my offer to help and was quickly accepted. The mob comprised some fractious cows and cranky wild bulls, which kept the adrenalin going as we drafted them through the Pound and ear- tagged them up the Race.

Bruce Drafting

It was 2pm by the time the fattest 90 head were loaded, destined for Dalby Saleyards. We enjoyed a late lunch with Keith, Margaret and son Steve and headed back to Adavale tired and very dusty after a very memorable day. 

Road Train loading cattle for the Dalby Saleyards

We spent 5 nights in Adavale and saw maybe 3 or 4 travelling vehicles per day, and very few stopped at the Pub-cum-Store; one wonders how Adavale survives.

We’ve enjoyed our adventures so far and will continue the story in “KKK No 2” coming to you shortly, from the ‘Outback Wanderers’.

Cheers till then,

Bruce and Audrey