Carpe Via

The next morning we found a good breakfast place with gingham table clothes and homemade scones. This day we drive back to Young, the trip almost done.

But first we toured the Sheepsheerers Hall of Fame. What better way to end the trip? Start with sheep shearing, end with sheep sheering. We learned lots of new and interesting facts:

*Cyclists in the Tour de France consume about the same amount of energy a day as a sheerer finishing 200 sheep in 8 hours.

*In 8 hours, an average sheerer will drag 160 (or more than 9 tons of sheep) across the shed floor, restrain each animal in up nine unnatural positions and push a hot, vibrating, and heavy handpiece through thick and immensely strong wool at least 5440 times–often in temperatures exceeding 40c.

*And they are paid by the sheep and the quality of their cut (which makes the man who offered to let Amanda and I sheer, especially generous)

*On average, sheerers suffer injuries 6x the rate of workers in all other industries.

*In 1994, they estimated that back injuries to sheerers cost the industry $76.4 million/year.

*They are tight knit, nomadic culture–moving from job to job, sheep station to sheep station.

We also saw a demonstration of a sheering that somehow had less blood than the ones we saw at the beginning of the trip. Gee I wonder why?

Finally it was time to depart Hay and drive through increasingly greener country with far more trees and hills than we had seen in two weeks.

That night we had a lovely dinner in the warmth and luxury of Charles’ folk’s home (Birrang). Unfortunately they were in Sydney so we made one more visit to an Australia pub in downtown Young. There we met a lovely group of guys who were also from Sydney but had the duty of moving a gigantic crane to YOung in order to build the new Woolworth. We played darts and talked about Russel Crowe and rugby and how the crane had to keeps stopping for sheep on their journey to Young.

The next day we said adu to Birrang once again a headed just an hour closer to Sydney to drop Amanda off at the horse farm where she would be spending the next several days. It was sad to say goodbye. But she clearly had the better end of the deal with five days of horse riding, a room in a gorgeous farm home and a pet lamb.

We, on the other hand, had an acting class to make. Charles is doing a monologue of Amadeus, complete with a ruffly shirt and cigar. But that’s another carpevia entry for another time. And a clear indication that we were no longer in the stark, majestic land of the Australian Outback.

Only one of us was able to walk the next morning. Not that that one person giggled and gloated whilst the other two moved like silver nomads, or anything. We hit the road a bit later than we expected but were successful in finding espresso and F.M. radio. Clearly we were heading towards civilization again.

We’ve combined these two days because, well frankly not a lot happened. We had many miles to cover in the last three days and didn’t have the luxury of dawdling about with the locals. Plus, I ended up taking a lot more cloud pictures (what was I thinking?)

On this day we drove all day towards Broken Hill. There was just one stop– a quick pull-over to the side of the road for pickle sandwiches and cold pesto pasta. Too cold for the girls to get out of the truck, but Charles paced around a bit as he ate. The organization of things in the back seat had lapsed. Maps were harder to find under coats, dry goods were sometimes found in the fridge, and most every thing else had a layer of dust. This day we listened to good music (Triple J) and drove through more flat land.

Broken Hill ended up being a fairly big town, so we went an extra 30 km to the tiny village of Silverton. I don’t think it even had a store, but we did find a pub – of course – and the home of many movie sets including Mad Max. They even had the famous black car out front. We set up camp and met some very bold kangaroos while Charles built a manly fire. After dinner, we took an adventurous walk through the trees to find this infamous pub.

It was warm and had a very friendly owner who told us that a guest had proposed to his girlfriend hours earlier on our very bar stools. Several customers (including one with a guitar) then serenaded the happy couple. Ah. How sweet. Charles refused to sit there. The pub also had a nice kitty and a secret “test” that we can’t tell you about. Overall, it was a quiet night and we were home and in bed by 9 p.m. in preparation for another day of driving.

The next day we drove all day towards Hay. It was fairly uneventful except for a little incident that happened after lunch. We had been back on the road for about 15 minutes when Charles realized one of panels on trailer had been left open. We spent the next half hour driving very slowly picking up a knife here, a potato masher there, the cutting board, a couple of glasses, a penguin…

Sadly we didn’t make Hay while the sun was still shining. We had to drive very carefully in the dark in order not to hit any of the roos grazing by the road. You see they would wait until we were right next to them them begin running either a) away from the road, b) along side us (at great speeds mind you), or c) across our path. It was nerve racking.

But we pulled into Hay and found our last plush caravan park of the trip. They had a place next door that served bad fried food with Who Wants to Be a Millionaire. Which was fine with us, really. I learned that the W. in George W. Bush stands for Wilbur. And after that we had a surreal 30 minutes of watching Sex and the City in a fake wood paneled room scattered with burly men in Hay.

We woke up to rain, which stopped just as our feet hit the tent floor. We ate quickly (our standard muesli with yogurt) and dressed in warm clothes for our date with some horses.

Our guide’s name was Sarah and she was happy that we all had experience with horses. Well, Amanda had been taking lessons and Charles had won prizes in competitions as a boy and I, I had been led through the woods on the back of a tall beast 4 years ago at Robbie’s batchlorette party. So yes, we all had a great deal of experience.

It was a gorgeous ride. The sky cleared for our two hour time slot and we began by slowly making our way along the trails up the hills behind the stalls. Amanda had chosen the tall one, Charles the one that jumps and rears when passed and I went for the calm one who had the only western saddle. They were generally bored at first, plodding along with yet another gaggle of tourists. But then as the ground leveled out a bit on top, we practiced cantering (bouncing about on top of the horse as it went faster). When Sarah sensed that we were all comfortable with that, we ran a couple of times. What an incredible thrill. Being thrust out of the hard, uncomfortable seat as it flies through the air miles above the ground, then forced back down again with your entire weight landing on muscles you didn’t know you had, all of your attention spent holding the little knob on the saddle while the world rushes past on either side in a blur.

At the end of the ride, two of us were in pain and two of us weren’t. But it was beautiful scenery and a great way to spend two hours regardless.

We headed back to camp to pack up and it began to rain just as we snapped down the last side panel on the trailer. The storm clouds gathered outside our warm truck as we meandered through the ranges for a couple of hours. Lunch time found us in Hawker at a dry restaurant with a great view of what was now a downpour. After a very short discussion, it was decided that we check into a room for just that one night. After all, we had never experienced a real Australian pub room before. Two guys touring on their motorcycles had the same idea. There’s just something about the grand ol’ hotel that one has to experience at least once in your life. We checked in and took a drive around the area for the day.

The sun came as we reached our first destination, an Aboriginal sacred site. A short hike took us up a hill and into caves with writings and symbols. Apparently these described various rituals and good places to find water and animals. We found tons of wild kangaroos in the area. One let me get just 3 feet from him as he couldn’t be bothered to turn his attention away from his lunch of thistles. The area was quiet and the view from the top was dramatic and awesome.

We looked at the map for our next stop. We could turn left towards Happy Valley, or right to Death Rock (opening scene: the three college students laugh at the idea of silly superstitions, blast the radio and turn right as they are watched by something unknown in the distance). We decided to check out Death Rock. It turned out to be a large formation in the shape of a skull. There we also saw a lovely watering hole and our second snake of the trip (ominous music to fade).

The scenic tour on the way back gave us an incredible sunset (more cloud pictures) and an end to the rain. But we were already checked in, too late to back out of the warm, dry rooms. We made the best of it and had a lovely night of pool and met two more great guys: Steve and Phil.

We met them when Steve quietly approached us as we played pool. He “hadn’t played in ages” he said as he reached behind the bar for his personal cue. It was a fun night, full of pool tips and more “taking the piss.” It turns out they even knew Sarah (from the morning). In the end Phil was also quite willing to give Amanda a visa– in exchange for doing his dishes (hmmm, sounds familiar).

We woke up fairly early but dawdled about the dunes a bit longer. It really was a gorgeous place with lots of different birds. Amanda made a friend or two with the help of a piece of bread. But then it was time to hit the road again.

It was another day of very flat land.

Charles’ Dad asked me what I was going to take pictures of once we got to the Outback. I didn’t quite understand what he meant at the time. But today you will see the many variations of flat land that is to be seen along the way.

I think we passed only three cars this day but we over took the first and only truck of the entire trip. (Did I mention that we drove under 90 km the entire way?) We all sat a little straighter in our seats, our chins out and I think Charles puffed out his chest for a kilometer or two.

Perhaps you are wondering what it is like in the car as we drive. Well, there were three official positions that we took turn manning. First, of course, was the driver. This position is responsible for keeping us on the road and the little dial under 2,000 rpms. This person also had the serious task of raising a single finger in greeting to passing vehicles (but mustn’t show too much enthusiasm in waving). The second position was in the front, to the left of the driver. This person had the best view and control over the radio dial. They were responsible for raising and lowering the volume based on conversational patterns within the cab. While not an official duty, this person would generally call out when they spotted a roo or emu or eagle or dingo or sheep. They also had the crucially important duty of taking the 2:55 p.m. picture. But since we didn’t have many other activities during the hours of driving, the other two would usually help to remind–for hours before hand. And finally the last position was the seat directly behind the passenger in the back. While much harder to see and hear, it provided a bit of privacy to let the mind wander. Amanda took advantage of her time in the back to scour the maps and plot upcoming routes, I often read and Charles primarily slept. I might add, though, that whilst this position was nice for relaxing, the person filling the role was still required to stop what they were doing and look up each time position #2 announced, “Emu!”– no matter how many of the bloody animal we had seen by then.

Our destination was a mining town called Leigh Creek, but when we arrived there early afternoon, it was much too nice for what we were used to by then. Being a company town, it had literally been picked up and moved to a new location and the entire new town had been perfectly planned and built. As Amanda said, it felt a bit Stepford Wives.

So we found the only place in the Flinders Ranges that offered horse riding and headed for the hills. A few hours later we were climbing through tree covered hills and crossing small creeks with a single bound. We arrived at our camp site after dark, careful not to hit the kangaroos, and built our first fire of the trip.

That night was a cold one with the wind whipping the tent and the sky threatening to rain.

We hit the road a bit later than planned and drove through more stark land for hours and hours.

Around noon, we came to the boarder of New South Wales and South Australia which was marked by a huge gate. The fence is approximately 3 times the length of the Great Wall of China and was built to keep the dingos…um,…out of…um,…to keep them where they are. No one is at the gate, mind you, to let you in or out. You have to open and close it yourself.

But soon after we reached Cameron’s Corner: the place where NSW, South Australia and Queensland all meet. It is marked by a white pawn piece, and Charles showed us the traditional Australian dance that everyone has to do when they visit Cameron’s Corner. It is to celebrate the fact that we were standing in three different time zones at once.

At Cameron’s Corner is also a single store/gas station run by Mark and Bill. They are the only post for hours in any direction. In fact they have to ’ship’ their staff in for a couple of weeks at a time from the closest big city (Tibooburra). They’ve only owned the place for less than a year but already they’ve added hotel rooms and a new politeness policy–instead of “no worries” or “no dramas” they are to say “it was my pleasure.” Mark slipped a couple of times, but we didn’t blame him, after all it is a new policy. He told us that the “local” sheerers come in from nearby sheep stations (3 or 4 hours away) to buy “a couple of slabs, a block of ice and a carton of ciggies” (slabs=24 cans of beer). A different guy gets to come each time so they take turns at who gets to sneak in 6 beers before driving back. We had a nice chat and a cup of coffee before we headed off for more driving.

But on the West side of Cameron’s Corner are the red dunes and the road was no longer flat. Mark (or was is Bill) told us that one of the girls had counted them once on her way back from the Birdsville races (with a bit of a hangover). We thought he said she counted 50 hills between the corner and the Strezleki Track turnoff, but we were sure there were many more than that.

That night we stayed in a designated campsite (with no toilets or water) in the middle of nowhere. There was just one other camper in the site, but we didn’t talk to them for some reason. We set up camp and enjoyed the most gorgeous sunset of the trip. Charles especially enjoyed it as he went off to watch with a shovel in one hand and a portable toilet seat stool in the other. Ah nature.

We went to bed early that night to the light sounds of someone playing ‘Quanta la Mare’ and ‘Waltzing Matilda’ on a distant guitar.