Friday 22nd August 2014
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| The camp kitchen at the Pink Roadhouse caravan park - a converted stable block |
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| The washhouse |
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| Swing set in need of repair in the campground |
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| Others had added to this wall in the camp kitchen so we made our mark as proud Hash House Harriers from Canberra |
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| Outside the Pink Roadhouse |
The campers awoke at the crack of dawn to
set about busily packing up their tents. Not that they were noisy but 20 odd
people packing up tents and tent pegs and chatting on the way to the loos isn’t
quiet.
So I woke up way early and could not get
back to sleep. As the light got brighter the campers got noisier and then they
all had to eat breakfast and then clean their teeth then pack up the bus and
stand around and talk and it was barely 7am. They finally pissed off about
7.30am and you could almost hear a sigh and a thank goodness from those
left.
I told Greg to roll over and lie with his
deaf ear out so he went back to sleep. I got up, made lunch in the shuttle
chef, had a shower in the don’t be modest showers.
The showers were clean and last time I was
there I was on my own. However this time there were half a bus load of teeth
cleaning bus tour women queuing, all wanting vanity basin space and here am I
trying to shower. The showers don’t have cubicles really except for the actual
shower itself which is very small. The rest is common space so to get undressed
or dried without the wet cold shower curtain attaching itself to you (as they
do) you have to be doing your drying thing in public. Its not a place for
vanity and its not the nicest shower experience I ever have had. Dressed when I
was half dried and got the hell out of there. Evaporation works. I got a good
workout this time as the main squirt of water was out to the other side so I
had to half squat to get wet and rinsed. Workout in a shower! Danoz Direct will
market this next as the best thing for exercise. The clean workout – jut
install a stuffed showerhead. You watch.
Anyway with sleeping beauty still catching
up on ZZZ’s I went back to the shop for
another load of $1 coins for the washing machine. I may as well do the rest of
the washing. It was a great day. Blue sky, sunshine, light breeze. I figured at
the rate Greg was sleeping and the fact he still had to download photos from
memory cards on to the computer that we would not be out of there by 12 and the
washing would be dry. Nearly. Good enough to throw in the van for a finish off.
Greg eventually got up and basically the
park was deserted – except for one Jayco Swan poptop which was unhitched and on
its own. Owners obviously doing something else.
After downloading lots of photos and
backing them up we were on the road, washing finishing drying on the caravan
bed about 12pm.
Nobody in Oodnadatta has a supply of 5cm
split pins (stop sounding surprised) so Greg has a note to himself that he must
buy some and keep a stash in future. And U bolts as we lost one on the road, (we
did have a spare) and scissors as he lost them too and a spare chock for the
van as we are now down to one. Greg drove off and left it behind never to be
seen again. Also tap washers as the one on the front of the van spontaneously
started to drip about the same time we entered the desert. The things you
learn.
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| Where to from here? |
So off down the road and from here its
William Creek – and a few points of interest along the way. We are now
following beside the tracks of the old Gahn railway. How wonderful. There are
old railway bridges, stations in ruins and all manner of things to stop and
take photos of.
So with our lunch a cooking and our van a
bumping along behind here we were ready to take it all in. That is until Greg
read and got me to confirm that there is a Bronco Branding competition day at
William Creek. Now that could be interesting.
He first ruin we came to along the
Oodnadatta track on the way to William Creek was a place with a name barely
readable on it but it was great. Mt Dutton I think it was called - you could hardly read the name. Firstly we could get to it without unhitching
the van. Secondly it still had the iron water tank, a wreck of a station and a
lonely grave on a hill. Plus sleepers where the railway line had been and lots
of bits and pieces to suggest that this was once an important hive of activity.
The remains of a combustion stove was still in a kitchen area and big
fireplaces suggesting that this place can get very cold in spite of the fact we
were boiling hot and the flies were so bad that we were scampering for the Aeroguard
before we all got RSI from waving away the flies.
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| On the road again |
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| Lonely grave in the middle of nowhere |
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| Oh look its a hill |
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| Flat, barren desert now but the scenery changed all the time |
We took lots of photos. Then hopped back in
the car with some opportunist hitch hiker flies and continued on our way.
The next ruin wasn’t as good as the first
as dickheads had been there defacing the walls and carving their names in them.
It was in such a bad state of disrepair that it’s a shame that there is no
money in the state to try and save it. Lots of its walls were crumbling and the
stone was scattered everywhere. Definitely not as good as the first.
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| Mount Dutton ruins |
By now the afternoon was marching on so we
stopped for lunch at a place with a lovely view of an old railway bridge.
Scoffed lunch in the van, packed up and kept going. The next point of interest
was another old trestle railway bridge over a waterhole. A camper trailer ahead
of us tuned down this road but I wasn’t so sure so asked Greg to pullover in a
safe pull over area while I took the 2 way and headed off, camera around neck to see if he could drive
our van up this track.
In spite of the bridge and the water hole
being so lovely, there was no way we could have got Gibson up there and turned
around. Lucky for me I just snapped a few photos and then stood on what looked
like solid ground that turned out to be right up to my ankle in mud. Nice.
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| inside the very unstable ruin |
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| the outlook from the ruin - you wonder how people lived out here |
However photos taken, communication not to
follow given, I jogged back down the road – not ideal when one has eaten lunch
and got back in the car. On we go.
Greg particularly wanted to see the Peak
Ruins – which are mentioned everywhere as a MUST SEE!
So off we went to find the ruins of this
settlement. Its not just a railway station as there was a homestead and several
out buildings her with a natural spring running through it also evidence of a
disused copper mine.
It was a fair distance from where we were
and the sun was beginning to get low by the time we got there. It was a very
tricky entrance too. Over a cattle grid and a very narrow one at that. Gibson
almost had to breathe in to get through and we had to go very slowly to get
through. Then there was a washout that was very deep and a sign saying 21km to
the ruins. I started to wonder if it would be worth going there at all. Then
the next thing just as I said to Greg that we would be probably better off
unhitching and leaving the van as we would make better time – the road
disappeared between some trees and I said to greg that it was too narrow. It
didn’t stop him from giving it a go and wedging our caravan mirrors in the
trees.
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| Remnants of the Ghan railway line |
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| The grave at the ruin you could not read who lies here as it was so weathered |
Our caravan mirrors are like cat’s whiskers
for Gibson – if they don’t fit then he won’t either. So reversing back up the
path about 20 meters or so there was a conveniently placed camp ground big
enough to turn around. We took my advice and unhitched. Locking the hitch on
Gibson, putting down the stairs and putting his legs out so if anyone wanted to
try and steal him, it would be too much bother.
Then it was off down the track for us. The
sun had almost started to set. Greg offered me the drive – it was a GREAT 4WD
track and I had the most fun going through tricky washouts and climbing up the
other side, through sand pans. Great fun. Greg was even impressed by my
driving. There was even a few little crossings where the spring water covered
the road and it was a little deep.
Finally we got to the ruin which was well
worth it indeed. There were lots of information panels and the ruins and the
lifestyle of the previous owners and were not in too bad a shape. We went nuts
taking photos of everything as the sun was starting to set in earnest now. Greg
drove back and had just as much fun as I did!
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| Peak Ruins |
By the time we got back to the van it was
almost dark. Not before we took some sunset photos on the way. We hitched,
would up Gibson’s legs and it was my turn tot drive out through the tricky
washout and the narrow gate. It was dark now and we were not obeying our own
rules about driving at night – but we wanted to get a bit nearer William Creek
as we bother were interested in going to the bronco branding competition. I was
extremely lucky and had a good road which I managed 60km/hr for a further 30km
and only ran over a rabbit – well he ran in front of the car but I didn’t hear
a fluffy thud so I may have missed it and Gibson may have got him. Never mind
there was not evidence of squashed bunny on the car or the van.
We also needed a place to pull off for the
night and these parts don’t have rest stops. Greg kept a sharp
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| Once was a bedroom - Peak ruins main homestead |
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