Push it to the limit

After a great night sleep, where I didn’t have to use my machete on man nor beast, we started with a simple breakfast. As I mentioned last time, we were bush camping, so that means no facilities. While Becky dreads the idea of doing what bears do, as long as we’re isolated I don’t mind. Take a spade, and then dig a big hole and shit in it… Simple! I prefer it to cubicles, where at any moment I could find myself listening to some old fella, grunting and wheezing because he’s missed his last few portions of prunes, or worse, he’s had too many. Sure, the unfettered smell of your own excrement isn’t something I’d want to bottle, but it’s better than the smell of the decaying fecal matter passed by hundreds of other campers that oozes from pit toilets. Yep, I enjoy bush camping. Plus we got to use our camp shower, which I’d recently had to fix, so when we left Negri creek, I was clean and empty.

 

Nothing better than a shit 'n a shower

We had no real fixed destination that day. Our main aim was to reach Wolfe Creek crater, but the route we should take was a little unclear. The map we had suggested a small road leading off Duncan road would be the quickest, but that would depend on how much fuel we had. Otherwise we’d have to go through Halls Creek first.

The first part of the journey was an enjoyable ramble through some spectacular countryside, crossing the NT/WA border and taking some photos of the slightly underwhelming signage. We also lost one and half hours, as we went into WA time.

Obligatory border pic

Becky hasn't really got the hang of pole dancing yet

The road took us past the back of the Bungle Bungles and everything was ticking over nicely. After several hours, we passed what we now know to be the turn off we wanted. It wasn’t well sign posted and looked like a track to a farm (we later discovered that it was a private access road, so we shouldn't have taken it anyway). We had plenty of fuel and it would have taken well over an hour off the journey. So, we were now locked into the long route through Halls Creek! We stopped briefly at Sawpit gorge, another bush camping spot near the end of Duncan road, but this was a little more busy and craping in the woods has less appeal when others are around you. It was still a nice place, and Becky took a picture.

Saw pit flash 

We stopped briefly to take a photo of a ruined Holden, then continued on.

Just needs a lick of paint and a bit of TLC

We finally pulled into Wolfe Creek campsite after driving for well over six hours on unsealed and bumpy roads. I hadn’t been drinking enough water, so I had a stinking headache. From the campsite, the crater just looked like a few hills. I was very unimpressed by it all. To top it all off, the corrugated, rough roads had cracked a few eggs in our fridge and, in the fragile state I was in, it felt like the world was collapsing. We walked up to the craters edge to watch the sunset, and all was forgiven. It was actually a spectacular sight, and looked beautiful under the setting sun.

A nice place for a killing

It wasn’t a scary place either, since there were quite a few other campers there. Still, we got the necessary shot of Becky by the sign.

 

Serial killer fodder

After dark the stars really came out, and we got a full, outback starry night. While I have gotten use to seeing the night sky in its full glory (I have seen the Milky Way almost every night for the past month and multiple shooting stars), this was something special due to the flat, expansive horizon. It made the stressful, long journey almost worth it… but I was too tired to set up the tripod to try and capture it.

The next day, after breakfast, we headed up to the rim once more to get a few more shots of the crater.  Luckily, it wasn't a very long walk, so Becky was happy.

So far we've walked 1.3km, and don't forget we have the return

Becky took a few good shots with her iphone panorama setting,

She's a big 'un

And another one that borders the crater and surrounding area.

One crater, two ecosystems

Then, as quickly as we arrived, we left for Purnululu NP. We decided that after such a long day of driving the day before, we’d just do the 160km to Halls Creek to refuel, and the 100km to a private campground at the start of Purnululu NP, saving the 50km of rough unsealed driving for the next day. A few kilometers from the crater, we came across a car stopped on the other side of the road, and the occupants had tossed out their swag. As we passed, two ladies sitting on the back seemed to motion at me. I stopped 20 metres down the track, opened the door and asked if they were all right. One of the women gestured and said something, but I couldn’t make it out. They turned their backs and started doing stuff. I was about to reverse to find out if they needed help, when Becky reminded me of the Aboriginals two days ago, and said if I reverse now, I’m totally a racist and probably a bit sexist too, as I only help women and effeminate Americans. So that's the reason I left two women to die in the middle of the outback, but least I'm not racist.

The drive to private campground at the start of track to Purnululu NP was easy, and the campsite seemed nice. After being bush for several days, the grassy sites were a welcome relief to the dust. And the self-contained shower/toilets seemed like the height of luxury. I don’t know whether it was the self-contained toilets or the burger we had in Halls Creek, but something caused me to go through all the elemental states (solid, liquid and gas). Becky often jokes about how I seem to have a stomach that will only open when it feels the toilet facilities are optimal for me. It will seemingly close up for a few days, and once the right boxes are ticked, service resumes with a bang. It can, of course, backfire; it took a rectal laxative to undo a week in Vanuatu.

That night, during a skype chat home, Torsten asked Becky why we didn’t just buy a seat for the prison toilets in NT. It was at this point we realised that we already have one, for our portable bush shitter, that comes with clear plastic bags to inspect the finished result… How fucking handy it would have been to connect the dots in NT!

If you can’t stand the heat.

We spent two nights at Zebra mining campground, but took absolutely no pictures. It was a great spot, quiet (well, the owners had a generator running all the time, as it was off grid) and clean-ish. We’d found a great spot under some trees and just slumped. We also had some of their homemade mango ice cream and homemade scones, with jam and cream. It is absolutely blistering here, and gets quite unbearable by late afternoon. So sitting around listening to podcasts in the hammock was the best way to spend our time. I must say doing nothing is pretty fun.

After we felt we’d fully recuperated, we decided to make our way down Duncan Road. Several people had told us that it was a lovely track that runs down the back of Purnululu NP (otherwise known as the Bungle Bungles) ending at Halls Creek. Best of all, there is very little traffic and a couple of free camp spots by the road. Perfect!

We packed up and headed off in good spirits. The track wasn’t that bad, but we saw a few more cars than the “two cars a day” promised to us. About 30km after we left the camp, we saw a car parked on the other side of the road and one of them was hitching. The driver and the two passengers were Aboriginal, and my underlying prejudice accrued from traveling through so many towns where the problems facing indigenous Australians were all to plain to see finally kicked in. As we approached I remembered reading that in isolated areas you can be flagged down and then asked for money/fuel. I slowed down, wound the window down, and said, “Sorry mate, we’re got no room” and drove off. I could see they didn’t have a puncture, but this didn’t stop my white guilt consuming me for at least 20 minutes. I didn’t behave that way when that dumb fuck American needed help, or the fat lady in the plunge pool.

After an hour of driving we reached Negri creek, and decided it was a great place to stop for the night. 

That'll do pig, that'll do.

We parked up right next to the creek, and spent some time watching the small freshies on the other side of the creek.

What a lovely looking fella

I was feeling brave, well it was fucking hot and I needed a way to cool down, so regardless of the crocs I went for a swim… who da badman?

I ain't afraid of no croc

I did get a little nervous when it submerged shortly after.

Swim time's over

Obviously it was fine and nothing happened, but we only swim in the shallows for the rest of the day. It was a perfect day, although Becky did moan quite a bit about the 38-degree heat. The wildlife was amazing, we even got to see a few of our Jabiru stork friends again. We could only get photos from distance, as every time we tried to get close they'd fly off. Perhaps it wasn't my aggressive driving that scared them off the first time we saw them.

If you squint you can make out the stork

As close as we could get

Later that evening, after only one-two cars passing over the creek, a car stopped on the bridge. It was a little too far for us to make out the occupants, but we stared intently through our binoculars. We thought maybe it was the aboriginals we’d passed earlier, come to lecture us on the wrongs of racial stereotyping. The car sat there with the engine running, door open and what sounded like the horse racing blaring out of the stereo. We were bush camping, so we were the only people camping there. It might also be worth mentioning that we weren’t that far from Wolfe creek crater, setting for an Australian horror film about a serial killer that murders and tortures backpackers and travellers. For the first time Becky was pleased that I had a machete. After about 20 minutes the car drove off. It was probably just some bloke stopping for a quick dip in the creek after work. I still kept my machete close, just in case. After that we had a little fire and cooked some lovely sausages as the sunset.

Nothing scary about being on your own, miles from help

After dark we sat listening and watching the goings on in the creek. We’d use our torches to look at the turtles and fish swimming and get the eye-shine of the different animals, including multiple freshies hunting in the creek. One of them got a little pissed at my attention and gave off an odd bark. I’m quite good at annoying animals. The stars filled the sky and we’d see the occasion plane heading northwest and wonder if they’d been served their dinner yet. It was brilliant and we had one of the best nights of the trip… I still slept with the machete, you know, just in case.

Keep Rolling, Rolling, Rolling!

As much fun as Litchfield had been, we were itching to start exploring the Kimberleys. First, we’d have to navigate Katherine again to stock the fridge and post a few blogs. We decided to take our time getting there, as Darwin was still fresh in the memory and Katherine would need every bit of energy we could muster. We headed for Hayes creek, just outside Litchfield, on the Stuart Highway. It didn’t take long to get there, and we unpacked and set up in no time. They also had “rustic” toilets, which had seats and weren’t filled to the brim with countless other peoples shit. I very much enjoyed unloading my three days backlog. Besides flushing toilets, we’d also read about a butterfly gorge, just a short distance from the campsite, where hundreds of butterflies line the walls of the gorge. We asked the backpacker from northern England working in the camp pub for directions and she told us it was a lovely walk. However we decided to drive, because fuck walking, and I’m glad we did, as what someone from northern England considers a lovely walk is nothing special in my eyes.

The gorge was, indeed, packed with butterflies. It was very picturesque and we were enjoying ourselves wandering about. I hadn’t taken my camera, as I was a bit over the whole taking pictures of shit, but Becky was filming away. She’d accidental been filming in slow-mo, but it came out looking quite cool

I doubt many of you could be arsed to watch the whole video. “Jeez” you probably said, “why’d I wanna watch a video of a half-nalked Tom scaring butterflies in slow-mo, what a dickhead”. Well, the reason for the video becomes apparent when normal speed resumes, as I stumble across a snake. I’d like to say I responded in a true bushman style, but I pooped myself a little and backed off (Becky also caught a frog, perhaps the snakes indented lunch, fleeing). I regretted not taking my camera, and by the time I’d got back with it, it’d gone. My first search on google identified it as Mengden's brown snake, a highly venomous species… but after a deeper look I think it was just a golden tree snake. Still, it was pretty cool, after I’d put some distance between us.

Not much else happened at Hayes Creek, bar watching an old man while he listened to an eclectic mix of music and stared at his caravan. The next day we headed for Edith Falls. We’d been told that this was a beautiful spot just outside Katherine and part of Nitmiluk NP. So popular that it often fills up before mid-day. We thought this would be the perfect point to muster up the energy to begin our assault on Katherine. However, when we got there we were confused as to why the place had been talked about so highly. It was nice, sure, but not tell a friend nice.

After we set up, I started trying to fix another issue with the car. This time, the rear wiper had drooped. I took apart the whole panel on the rear door, but I was unable to find a fix, so it was added to the “google when we have Internet” list. We also had a nice little visit from a local lizard.

Not the best cleaner, but he gives it his all

Late afternoon we headed for the main plunge pool, as it had been one day since we’d fucking swum in one. The main pool entry point was busy, but we found a quiet spot for a quick dip, and decided we’d wake early the next morning for a walk to the upper pool… at 2.6km it was close to Becky’s limit but sounded nice.

Here, we used a stand in for the swimming headshot  

Next morning, after a quick breakfast we headed off on our walk. I was pleased as I would get to try my new daps. To be honest, the walk didn’t require them, but I wanted to test them out. They were fine, thanks for asking.

I put on my daps for this?

The walk was ok, and the waterfall and upper plunge pool looked good in the morning light.

Bush power shower

We swam in the pools for a while, and had them to ourselves for 20 minutes before more people arrived and so we decided that would do.

Another day, another plunge pool

By the time we’d walked back, packed up and showered it was past 10:30am as we headed for the dreaded stress of Katherine. By 11am we’d pitched up at the information centre in downtown Katherine to use their power points and the free Internet to post blogs and google shit we’d been wondering about for the past two to three days (including the species of snake and how to fix a drooping wiper, which wasn’t the first google guess as I typed in “how to fix a drooping…”). Katherine is not a pleasant town, as signalled by bottle shops not opening until 2pm, and Rexona aerosol being stored behind the counter at Woolies. The stress wasn’t helped by Becky’s insistence at getting 25% off by using some app at McDonalds. After spending 30 minutes moving up from Billy no stars, all the way to the manager we finally got our $7 off, which means we can now extend our road trip by 35km. A cool four hours later, well stocked on food, fuel and XXXX, we finally pulled out of Katherine towards our intended stop for the night, Timber Creek.

Timber Creek is a small town 200km from the WA border, and not much more than an overnight stop. It wasn’t a bad place, and there was a huge ~3-metre freshie in the creek at the back of the site, which I didn’t photograph.  We were both pretty beat after navigating Katherine and went to bed early. The next morning we packed up, and watched a bogan child feed some assembled kites left-overs. We discussed whether we should mention to the parents how bad this is, but decided the parents looked like they didn’t give a fuck. Still, we got some nice photos.

I got family at UQ that are killing it, as much subway as they can eat

This family’s set up has become a common sight, parents touring Australia with a few kids, and home schooling them as they go. Watching this family and others I can tell you that the quality home schooling being given to these kids will open up opportunities for other skilled migrants in a few years.

We left Timber Creek, and decided that we’d head for a track called Duncan Road, just before the WA border. There was a campsite at the start that would be a good place to unwind and eat some of the fruit and veges we’d bought in Katherine and forgotten that we weren’t allowed to take into WA past the sniffer dogs at the Kununurra border. As we drove through Gregory NP, named after an explorer named Gregory but I don’t remember his first name, we stopped at a few places including a “famous” Boab tree that had been marked by Gregory during his exploration of the area. They use to mark these trees with the date they arrived (in this case 13^th Oct 1855) and the date they left (2^nd July 1856). So that was fun.

History, in tree form

The best part was spotting a small lagoon at the roadside, filled with birdlife. There were a shit load of red-tailed cockatoos, guess how they got their name.

"why don't we call it Black-body, with red-bits in its tail cockatoo"

We got to Zebra mining campground a little after mid-day, and it was lovely, so nice that we didn’t take any pictures of it. I spent the rest of that afternoon fixing the drooping rear wiper, only to discover the nozzle itself is also blocked. It’s amazing how long I’ve spent trying to fix issues with the back wiper and washer, especially since that our solar panels and fridge block my rear view. I think I have realised what I really enjoy is problem solving. As a famous urban poet from 90’s said, “if there’s a problem, yo I’ll solve it. Now check out the hook as my DJ revolves it”

After that, we finally got to do something we haven’t done for a while; just relax, doing nothing but complain about how unbearably hot it has become.