“I love a sunburnt country,
A land of sweeping plains …
Her beauty and her terror –
The wide brown land for me!”
My Country – Dorothea Mackellar (1904)
“I have some bad news,” said Bongo. “That Underground Dugout Motel I promised at White Cliffs is closed for renovation, but parts may still be open for a fast stickybeak.”
Although this Canadian has made more than a dozen trips to Australia, I continue to be reminded that although we both speak “The Queen’s English,” there are endless variations on the theme. Bongo explained that a stickybeak is Aussie slang for prying or snooping: there was going to be plenty of that over the next fortnight or so.
Everyone in Australia has a nickname. And Ron – my daughter’s father-in-law and travel mate – is known as “Bongo” to his mates. Bongo spent 12 months planning our adventure through The Outback of New South Wales. He guaranteed sights and sounds that few Australians, and perhaps no Canadian, had ever experienced. Although each of us has more than seven decades under our belts, we can still dream of open roads and bold journeys.
“Guaranteed to be hot out there!” warned Bongo. This explorer planned every Australian visit to escape Canadian winters… so a mid-summer February road trip was the only option. When we hit the road on a blistering hot day, I was not deterred. I felt like an early explorer in an alien land.
RED DUST, WOOLSHEDS AND FOSSICKING FOR OPALS
“You’ve got the good country today, boys… with the flies and dust you’ll be running home!”
We laughed and ignored that casual comment as we pulled away from a Sydney petrol station on the appropriately named Pioneer Way. The route of the first explorers led us past the Blue Mountains and over the Great Dividing Range. We travelled along early roads, past bridges, dams and toll houses that were originally built by convicts who carved out primitive paths into the endless “never-never” beyond the coastline. These were the earliest stage coach runs doing a healthy trade during Australia’s gold rush days.
Clouds of sulphur-crested cockatoos swarmed our windshield while the car radio blasted Dolly Parton wannabees, crop reports, race results and yodelling cowboys serenading stockmen and drovers in local cattle stations. Tales of bushrangers, stagecoaches and the biggest gold heist in Australia’s history (at 2,719 troy ounces!) tickled our imaginations as we immersed ourselves in the spirit of this frontier country. Every stop on the journey kept us busy photographing classic heritage buildings of every style: worker’s tin “sheds” from the gold rush of the 1860s, Art Deco theatres and banks, and oversized frontier pubs with intricate iron tracery on upper floor verandahs.
We averaged 300-400km on dead flat roads for the first few days. Each day ended with an evening meal in a village pub where we shared a schooner (that uniquely Aussie beer glass) and stories with locals anxious to spin tales both real and imagined. Folks like Peter Byrne entertained us, eager to talk about his life as a sheep buyer for the Australian WoolNetwork. He wove quite a yarn.
We are now 1000km northwest of Sydney, and have slowed down after surviving a flat tire, mobs of kangaroos running suicide attempts across red dust roads, and 200km of unsealed roads finally arriving at historic Kinchega Woolshed in isolated Menindee. The site is totally deserted, surrounded by sheep and cattle stations, each about 40,500 hectares in size run by the same families for generations. We were ambushed by a family of kangaroos hanging out in the shade of this astonishing structure built in 1875 of corrugated iron and river red gum. In 97 years of operation, six million sheep were sheared in this vast and well-preserved classic piece of Australian pastoral heritage. The sweet smell of lanolin still lingers in the brutal heat, 50 years after the last shearing in 1967, reminding me that “Shearers never go to Hell… they’ve already been there.”
It was another pre-dawn start as we continued north on Opal Miner’s Way to White Cliffs. We were warned: “Now you be taking it easy this morning, mates, there’ll be kangaroos on that road.” Not surprisingly, within a few kilometres several ’roos pounced out of the darkness… those startling moments can really focus a driver and his co-pilot!
White Cliffs is the site of the first commercial opal field in Australia discovered by a kangaroo harvester in 1889 – population peaking at 5,000. Today we discover about 100 “battlers,” many of whom are running away from life’s struggles, only to fight a new battle in a hostile land. It is a captivating town despite its small, dusty and ramshackle appearance with more that 50,000 abandoned opal mines in the midst of an eerie moonscape where emus and kangaroos wander through town. Locals are friendly, quirky and welcoming in this near-ghost town once renowned for the best opals in the world. We are but two road warriors on a road less travelled. I’m feeling privileged.
As Bongo predicted, The Underground Motel was closed for renovations, but we were treated to a tour of the highly impressive underground White House Bed and Breakfast, where we were met by proud owners Lindsay White and Cree Marshall. They make an ideal team with Lindsay, a former sheep classer, digger and prospector, and Cree, a talented artist and interior designer. Lindsay has been digging at this site for over 50 years. The dugout features lots of light, cool fresh air, stunning artwork and beautiful furnishings made of recycled materials… clearly a labour of love.
There were moments when I simply stared into that vast, dry, inhospitable place and wondered what draws people to do battle out here at the edge of the world. So many warriors. So many stories.
ROCK ART, FLYING DOCTORS AND MAD MAX
It was another pre-dawn start as we headed for Mutawintji National Park still dodging huge ’roos bouncing out of pitch-black darkness over 175km of unsealed, bone-shattering, corrugated red roads. Morning sunshine greeted us as we approached the front gate. A shell-shocked Bongo – driver extraordinaire – mumbled, “Is that a mirage or am I seeing things?” as a family of emus slowly meandered across the road in front of us.
We met up with Paul Burton, a friendly and highly knowledgeable tour guide with Tri State Safaris. Paul calls Mutawintji Heritage site one of the country’s most sacred Aboriginal locations, the spiritual home for the local Aboriginal people. “I just love every visit,” says Paul, “even though very hot days can be difficult… 45°C in the shade means a tough tour. It’s a magical place with water its secret ingredient.”
Paul led two interpretive walks within a restricted access site to reveal 8,000-year-old Aboriginal rock engravings and cave paintings of red and yellow ochre hand stencils, dingo paws and tally marks. This sacred site is the “real” Australia. A place of wonder and excitement. An ancient land that captures the spirit of this sunburnt country.
Broken Hill was another tale. This is one of the few places in the Outback easily accessed by tourists on The Great Southern Railway. This “Capital of the Outback” is the premier whistle stop for the iconic Indian Pacific, which bisects the continent from Sydney in the east to Perth in the west. In fact, I would recommend Broken Hill for any visitor to Sydney looking for a shorter first-time Australian Outback destination.
It is Australia’s boldest Outback town, described by an early explorer as “some of the most broken and desolate land ever seen.” The massive heap of mine tailings that forms the backdrop for town centre can be initially unsettling, but it becomes the familiar symbol of this desert frontier town, site of the world’s largest silver-lead-zinc lodes. Street signs bear names like Silver, Mercury and Carbon, each a showcase of stunning architectural styles. The School of the Air is proud of its claim to be the world’s largest classroom, and the Memorial Museum dedicated to more than 800 miners who lost their lives working on the Broken Hill mines is a touching tribute to their sacrifice.
Other unique sites include The Royal Flying Doctor Service, home to an aircraft hangar to service the world’s largest aeromedical operation to more than eight million people living in rural and remote Australia.
Filmmakers and artists are attracted to nearby Silverton to capture its unique setting. This frontier town predates Broken Hill. Originally the site of the Daydream Mine, it now seems little more than an abandoned movie set. Naturally we dropped by the famous Silverton Hotel and checked out crazy Mad Max memorabilia.
A TRI STATE SAFARI – CORNER COUNTRY, DINGO FENCES AND A PAR 3
We learned quickly that “Lollipop 4-WDR” – our compact sedan – was no match for either the road surfaces or the grazing animals that continued to compete with us for the right of way! Sheep insisted on crossing the road in single file from one side to another, emus gallop across in twos and threes, feral goats prance in a manic scurry, wombats freeze, and cattle simply stand and stare, most often in the middle of the road.
As we prepared to leave for the hottest and most isolated dot on our map, we were cautioned again by a petrol station attendant in Tibooburra: “I run into 50 kangaroos a year on that road… watch how you go, boys!”
But Cameron Corner was reason enough to risk this road trip – the ultimate Outback destination – the pinnacle for the two of us. Not unlike Mount Everest, you go because it’s there. So here we were in Queensland, at a site bearing a New South Wales postal address and a South Australian phone number. This is the point where three states meet, home to a boundary pillar, the world’s longest dingo fence (5,500km), a single road house pub with its own golf course, and cold beer. We had not passed another vehicle on the 160km of unsealed road that delivered us to the front door of the roadhouse. We were the sole roadhouse patrons. A lone publican sat at the end of bar. He introduced himself as “Shithead” and poured us a schooner. This is the Outback.
Shithead explained that he hoped they’d never pave that 160km of road: “We love the real Outback and want to share it with those who do the work to get here.” We were now 2,000km from Sydney and Bongo had already delivered on his promise: surely no Canadian had ever played the Cameron Corner Tristate Golf Course… three holes in each state!
That evening we shared another schooner with “Heffo,” a “roughrider” who works at the Wanaaring Wild Goat Mustering Station, a huge operation “back o’ Bourke,” an expression immortalized for Australians, meaning “in the middle of nowhere.” Heffo had just spent the day on a 142,000-hectare station mustering about 100 feral goats using scooters and a small fixed-wing aircraft. Tomorrow would bring even more surprises.
G’DAY, G’DAY AND HOW’RE YA GOIN’?
“You’ll need a relay phone out there, mate… take mine in case you break down! Just leave it at the pub in Hungerford when you arrive, and somebody will get it back to me. And call me when you get to Bourke,” offered Kerrie, owner of our tiny cement block bunkhouse after surveying our lollipop. So here we were “back o’ Bourke” in the endless Outback… no mobile service, no internet, running desert roads on a loaner relay.
Luckily, we arrived safely in Hungerford for the phone drop-off, but the pub was closed. We were relieved to meet a Senior Constable with Queensland Police Service, the lone occupant of the only other building in town. She was carrying a baby kangaroo in a blanket and explained that she spent her time retrieving lost tourists, issuing gun licenses, arresting poachers who shoot anything in Sturt National Park, and caring for orphaned “joeys” in her Kangaroo Nursery. What a special memory to carry away as we made tracks for Bourke.
Legendary Australian poet Henry Lawson once said, “If you know Bourke, you know Australia.” This town sits on the edge of the Outback “miles from anywhere, but the centre of everything.” The Back O’ Bourke Exhibition Centre is all about the legends: Afghan cameleers, swagmen, Aboriginal massacres, bush poets, and death and destruction in a wind-swept wasteland where the expected rain never comes.
Bongo – a man of his word – had saved a magic moment for the final leg. He had arranged to return to a shearer’s shed where he and his survey crew camped more than 50 years ago. We were welcomed to Wuttagoona Homestead by Ken Cain and his son, Damien, who work their station at the back edge of Bourke. Ken had just shown us the original shearer’s quarters, a collection of fossils found in his front yard, and 40,000-year-old aboriginal rock paintings in a cave hidden at the back of his property. “It’s about place,” says Ken. “Some folks think this is just a desert, but it’s beautiful, mate! It’s all I know… it’s part of me.” And now it’s part of me.
Prolific author Patricia Adam-Smith wrote, “The Outback is a thing of the Australian mind.” She’s right. It was a magnificent roadshow, Bongo. Cheers, mate!
IF YOU GO:
Getting There:
Several airlines operate flights from Vancouver to Sydney, but I prefer Air Canada with daily direct, non-stop 15h flight from Vancouver. www.aircanada.com/ca/en/aco/home.html
Getting Around:
Car Rentals:
The usual international agencies operate in Australia.
Drivers in Australia require a valid driver’s licence. You can drive with a foreign (English language) licence for three months.
If your licence is not in English, you need to get an International Driving Permit from the CAA. Australians drive on the left side of the road and the majority of vehicles have the steering wheel on their right side.
Great Southern Railway – www.greatsouthernrail.com.au/
Rail holidays and frequent daily interstate passenger departures across an extensive network of stations
Quantas – www.qantas.com/au/en.html
Australia’s national airline with domestic and regional flights across the country
Virgin Air – www.virginaustralia.com/eu/en
Domestic and regional flights
Escorted Tour Groups:
Although we travelled independently, you can book single and multiple day and extended tours of your piece of The Outback out of many Australian cities.
AATKings: www.aatkings.com/
Tri State Safaris – https://tristate.com.au/
Private, group and custom short and extended tours ideal for anyone visiting Broken Hill by train
Ian Carter is a retired educator and mental health professional, published author, inveterate world traveller, freelance writer, and photographer. He welcomes contact at: heritagematters@bellaliant.net
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A retired educator and mental health professional, published author, inveterate world traveller, freelance writer and photographer. He welcomes contact by email.