It was Wednesday, May 16th, 1979 that I left Melbourne to begin what must have seemed a somewhat awesome journey. I was to be back in Melbourne by Monday evening at the very latest, only five days later and we intended to visit Birdsville, and possibly Eucla! The aim of the journey was twofold. First, I intended to "drive" myself quite hard over long distances to get some idea of the effort and concentration required and the potential boredom involved. Never before had I travelled "non-stop" for several thousand kilometres. Second, both Noel and myself intended to traverse part of the Repco Reliability Trial route or at least to gain some idea of what some of the country was like. It was our view that the part of the route from Tibooburra to Birdsville would be close to the most difficult in the event. Also, the route from beyond Marree to Eucla would also be very tricky. Hence we intended to do as much of these parts of the route as possible.
In retrospect, I think our judgement was pretty good! Only a couple of sections in the actual event were in the same "league" as the Cordillo Downs to Birdsville section! Of course the entire Birdsville "loop" was deleted due to the extreme dampness of the entire area, a situation which was already evident when we visited in May. Our evaluation of the sections beyond Marree was also accurate, but the "Margaret Creek" section was also re-routed because of its extreme difficult and some flooding and was replaced by the Coober Pedy section. The run to Eucla of course turned out to be one of the most difficult in the actual event, for us at least, so we were "on the ball" there too.
Before we left for our Birdsville trip we went through every piece of material from the organisers with a fine tooth comb in order to pinpoint the planned route as closely as possible. Needless to say, this was a little difficult when the organisers were also unclear of where they were going! Both Tibooburra and Cordillo were mentioned in a press release whilst the "official" schedule mentioned only Broken Hill, Birdsville, Marree and Eucla. The press release also mentioned the Margaret Creek Road from Coward Springs through to Mount Eba on the Stuart Highway and Kilfoyle told me after the event that that was the intended route, but it turned out to be a bit wet so they went to Coober Pedy instead. We mused over the alternative routes from Tibooburra to Cordillo. The most obvious route was via Orientos then Nappa Merrie on the Cooper Creek, then either via Innamincka or Arrabury. Certainly the Innamincka alternative was favoured because it offered fuel. This is the way Noel and I intended to go. We would have been half right but Kilfoyle told me after the event that they were going to go via Cameron corner (NW/QLD/SA corner) then generally west on a reasonable and new road to the Strzelecki Track, thence to Innamincka. From there to Birdsville we were correct! After Birdsville, the schedule to Marree suggest that the "short track" was to be used which was interesting since our reports indicated it had been closed for some time! Still, we figured on getting more information on that once we got to Birdsville.
Prior to leaving Melbourne, we had carefully outlined our plans and my father was to keep track of us. We had no misconceptions about the risks of traversing this sort of country and my father would seek advice if we were more than 24 hours overdue "reporting in". There was no doubt if we did break down that firstly we would have enough food and water for three or four days and secondly, the "authorities" would know fairly precisely where we were. In retrospect this approach was a bit unnecessary as there are generally quite a few people passing by on most of the roads we were on. Our reports were to be Tibooburra first thing Thursday morning, Birdsville Thursday evening, Marree Friday morning, Kingoonya Friday evening, Cook Saturday evening, and Eucla Sunday morning. It would take us about 20 hours to get home from Eucla, i.e. Melbourne by Monday morning. There was not much room for delays and we didn't really ever expect to make Eucla.
Anyway, back to reality! I arrived at Stawell mid afternoon. It was school holidays so Noel was home and had already collected the Corolla from Wes. I took it down to Wes' garage to fuel it up (it holds about 100 litres). Back at Noel's, I checked the food supplies, packed the winch, and moved the jack mount, which stopped the seat going far enough forward for my legs! We had some tea and left about 6.30 pm. Noel drove the first leg to Mildura via Rupanyup, Warracknabeal, Hopetoun and Ouyen, a total of 348 km. We sat on about 110 km/h - the Corolla was not a quick car and it would only go about 130 km/h at most. We talked most of the way so I didn't get any sleep. Besides, it was too early and only about 10.30 pm when we reached Mildura.
We changed drivers just after the turn left onto the Sturt Highway. At Merbein I stopped and adjusted the super oscars which were pointing in all directions. After Wentworth it was into that long 270 km piece of bitumen to Broken Hill, only broken by the Coombah Roadhouse where we would refuel. We had been warned of the kangaroo problem in western NSW and already I was having to take evasive action to avoid them. At Coombah we had to wait a few minutes for the owner to get his pants on. We used this place as a refuel on the Ready Plan Rally and I know the owners quite well. They are a very friendly English family and as the sign out the front says, they will serve petrol at any time of the day or night. I had only driven this Mildura to Broken Hill run once before and it was just as boring this time. However, we were soon motoring through the quiet streets of Broken Hill at about 1.45 am. We started taking notes up the Silver City Highway towards Tibooburra, mostly the break the monotony. It is 334 km in total and the bitumen runs out after 15 km at Stephens Creek. There are lots of dips through creeks in this country and the suspension can take a fair battering on what is essentially a fast road. At 100 km from Broken Hill I got out of the driver's seat and let Noel have a go. It was a superb night out in the semi-desert stillness and silence. We both had a short "wander" in the night air to regain our concentration. At 173 km we passed through Packsaddle which is a small homestead/general store which sells petrol, but not at 3.30 am. We had more than enough fuel to make Tibooburra. One surprising thing was that we probably passed about three vehicles heading south and one north on this piece of road. I don't know what they were doing at that time of the morning, but they probably thought the same thing of us.
At about 5 am we entered Tibooburra, 60 km/h limit, bitumen road etc. It was "dead" of course so we gently pulled up outside a ramshackled looking house. Someone was moving around inside, so I suggested to Noel we park a little further on! It was the National Park office that we finally settled on and both went to sleep in the quite comfortable layback Bilover seats. We woke at about 7.30 am and we were bloody cold! I very soon had the gas burner heating the water for coffee and we ate some canned fruit for breakfast. The town was all around us, but still dead! The scenery in the background was red dusty plains, rocky outcrops and little else. The transformation since we last saw daylight was almost incomprehensible. We could just as easily have been on another planet! (I seriously suggest you do it sometime - it only takes thirteen hours to get there!). We had after all come nearly 1000 kms from Stawell.
The first sign of activity was a very brown Aboriginal woman driving a matching dark brown Holden station wagon northwards out of the town. Then the lady over the road came out and started sweeping the "footpath". I asked her if we could get fuel. She said to go and see Barney at the pub to find out when he would be open. It was about 8.15 am when we pulled up outside Barney's Hotel and I fronted up to the entrance to seek advice. A woman barked back at me that we would have to wait until 9.00 am - they had to serve breakfast to the guests first! So we left the car and walked down to the police station to "report" our plans. A relief officer from the "east" was there and he accepted our report but could give us no information on road conditions. We inspected the rather superb drive-in-theatre on the way back. Barney had appeared and was inspecting the Corolla together with one of the guests. The car was soon refuelled and we chatted about the round Australia a bit. Barney couldn't tell us anything about roads either - I don’t think Tibooburrians go anywhere except maybe Broken Hill. We actually set off about 9.00 am with me back in the driver's seat.
It is 55 km up to the Queensland border - Warri Gate. Most of this is in the Sturt National Park and hence we figured it could only be used as a transport - it was very fast anyway. It was already a fine sunny day and likely to be reasonably warm. The country is undulating grasslands with some quite rocky "hills", and plenty of creeks along the road to keep you busy. At Warri Gate, scene of the London-Sydney control, we stopped to open the gate and take a picture of the ten foot high dingo fence which extends as far as the eye can see in each direction. Some kangaroos had been evident even in daylight, but once out of NSW we did not see a single one again until we were down in the Flinders Ranges.
Beyond Warri Gate the road changes to a sandy based track - still very quick but narrow. After 40 km we beared left off the London-Sydney route which headed more north-east to Kihee and Eromanga. We, on the other hand, were destined for Innamincka. The track now was mostly a bulldozer scrape through very sand dune ridden terrain. There were some very sandy creek crossings, some with bad washouts in them. There were obvious signs of recent rain and there were deviations around swamps between some of the sand dunes. The last 30 km into Orientos was marginally more civilised and had seven gates. At the homestead we stopped and wandered inside to seek out any information that might be available. Unfortunately the owners were away and we could only speak to some "visitors" who knew less than we did. It was about 126 km from Warri Gate and after 11 am.
Noel drove from Orientos on a reasonable track northwards towards Cooper Creek. Once through a gate 5 km from Orientos, the track entered more undulating rocky terrain, with many sandy and rocky creek crossings. This road was more like the sort of "horror" section we would see in central Western Australia. There were some quite long sections of rocky track that shook the car and us to pieces. There were also a number of sizeable water holes that were boggy and had to be detoured around. At a gate about 83 km from Orientos we stopped for lunch, it being nearly 1.00 pm. We were quite happy with our progress at that stage and only 6 km later we reach our first choice. We could turn left and approach Innamincka along the south side of Cooper Creek or proceed straight ahead through Nappa Merrie. We chose the latter, but reached a problem after only 5 km.
As we approached the Cooper Creek we grew to understand the problem. It was wide, deep and moving bloody fast! In short, there was no way we were cross the "river" here! Of course the first thought I had was that we could not cross anywhere which would mean going home the way we came. We were surprised to see a lady camped there with her two sons, one about 18 I suppose, who had driven in there with her Range Rover and campervan. We thought we were fairly courageous, but she won on that count.
The Burke and Wills bridge was not there in 1979!
We retraced our steps back to the Innamincka turnoff (about 5 km). The next 16 km to the SA border was particularly bad for rocks, with long stretches of rocky road shaking your false teeth apart. There were also a number of bad sand stretches and one particularly nasty creek crossing about fifty yards across with sand and rocks and a sharp exit. Hence, you had to attack it fairly quickly despite the rocks. Once into South Australia the road improved into a reasonable gravel track. Soon after the border we met some "explorers" coming the other way and chatted for a few minutes about conditions. Of course you virtually never saw a non-four wheel drive vehicle, so they all looked at us a bit strangely! 23 km from the border is a turnoff to "Burkes Grave" (of Burke and Wills fame). A further 5 km and you appear over a crest to see the "township" of Innamincka which comprises just the pub/store. We didn't need fuel so headed down to the river causeway eager to find out if we could cross. It is only half a kilometre from the store. The causeway was a slightly less awesome sight than the Nappa Merrie crossing. The water was flowing very quickly about one foot to eighteen inches deep over the concrete causeway, which was less than 100 metres across. There was a Toyota Land Cruiser there, the people having a rest. Whilst we had planned on calling at the pub, we decided to take the opportunity to ask the guy for a tow across. We were towed across all right. I think we probably could have done it on our own, but it was safer that way. No doubt our "unusual" vehicle would ensure that we would be reported into the pub!
I drove from Innamincka and we passed a couple of Range Rovers. We passed through three gates in the 10 km from Innamincka and various tracks diverged to bores, shearing sheds, etc. Then we were in totally uncivilised country again on the 177 km run to Cordillo Downs. It's not that uncivilised I suppose - we passed two bores, a well and some stockyards! The road is an excellent sandy based track that meanders across the grassy plains and occasionally dips through sandy creeks. It was like some of the roads near Mildura and was good fun. After about 100 km we passed "Leap Year Bore" and entered some different terrain with sand dunes and rocky flats between them. The road ran between the dunes and there were quite a lot of big patches of water to drive through. Somewhere here we came up behind a Holden station wagon and followed it through a rough creek. He was going so slow! It turned out to be the survey for an RACV Explorer Tour. We passed him but he soon turned off taking the road through Arrabury to Betoota. The final 30 km to Cordillo was uneventful and we stopped once to take a photo of the superb red sand dunes. We finally crossed the last creek and entered the gateway into Cordillo Downs Homestead.
Cordillo Downs is a fairly large establishment with two large homesteads and another half dozen buildings, big radio masts and an airfield. There is a superb superb "garage" (it was a woolshed originally until they stopped grazing sheep and moved into cattle) made entirely from rocks and containing all varieties of vehicles and disused farm machinery. A "local" was wandering around and we chatted to him about the Repco. He told us they were definitely coming this way then direct to Birdsville, but that the road was pretty bad. He was a young guy, maybe thirty, with the usual big boots and hat. Around behind the homestead were a couple in a Subaru 4WD who had problems. He had the front axle disassembled - something was broken and he mumbled under his breath in answer to my questions. Noel had the coffee made and we consumed some of our sandwiches. The sun was just setting and I took a photograph of the magnificent sunset over the flat horizon. We set off again at about 6 pm with Noel driving, in the direction of the signpost "Birdsville 262". (We measured it as 240 km).
Just as we approached the gate out of the homestead two vehicles came through the other way. One was a big 4WD bus, the other a smaller 4WD. They spoke to us for a few minutes saying conditions were pretty bad, particularly at some very deep ruts about 30 miles out. Basically, they thought we were mad going out at night. In retrospect, they were right! It is hard to describe the 45 km after Cordillo except to say we took four pages of notes with instructions like:
Hugh washaway - go left off track - watch out for rocks
STOP! Deep washaways into creek
Deep boggy ruts.
Essentially, the rain had stuffed this road. Some of the washaways would fit a car in them. Other stretches were just plain boggy. There were rocks everywhere, except in the bogs. Sandy, rocky creek crossings were numerous. We seemed to spend half the time off the track avoiding bogs or washaways. It took us two hours to go 40 kms! Then at 44.7 km the inevitable happened.
The deep murky boggy ruts ahead were no doubt what the guy had referred to. They were too deep to go through; we would sit the car on the sump guard and diff. So we took to the surrounds of the night. Noel carefully manoeuvred around the bog and we had gone about 200 metres and I said we must get back on the road. He kinked left and we fell in a big hole, only three feet wide, but deep and boggy. The front wheels were through, but the rear end was down. We got the winch out the tried to winch it off the spade. The spade bent and the car didn't move. I suppose we spent about 20 frustrating minutes before surrendering and putting the tent up. The mosquitos were large and thick. We were quite tired of course so climbed into the tent, spent five minutes killing the mosquitos inside and went to sleep. The silence was absolutely devastating! My mind wandered (as usual) for a while before I fell asleep. I can remember visualising a map of Australia and considering where we were - it was unbelievable!
We must have been tired - we slept for eleven straight hours. It was about 7.30 am when we both woke to the sounds of the desert outside the tent. The silence was only broken by the light breeze blowing through the grass. We got out of the tent and the mosquitos were a little less dense. It was a fine mild day but sadly, the car was still bogged! Noel boiled the billy and I surveyed the surrounds and took some memorable photographs. A flock of emus came to visit but did not stay. The surrounds were indeed desolate. A small clump of trees could be seen to the south, maybe a mile away. Elsewhere was totally flat. The bog we had avoided was indeed a bad one. Upon a careful look, a fully solid route was available to the left as we had approached, but the right hand side was riddled with these small channels, one of which we were stuck in. We needed to move the car maybe three feet and indeed we were only 20 feet from the solid road.
Noel and I discussed what we would do. We had to have something to winch off and nothing was available nearby. We decided that Noel would walk to the trees to get something whilst I dug a hole to put it in. The ground was so hard and full of rocks that it was almost impossible to dig a hole. Noel was gone for just on an hour and carried back a six-foot log about three to four inches thick. We stuck it in the ground and winched off it. Noel lent against the top of it with his shoulder whilst I "gently" winched. The car moved a foot then it wouldn't come any more. We tried everything, including shovelling the soup-like mud out from under the wheels, but the diff was stuck on a hard spot and wouldn't budge.
It was about 10 o'clock now and time for another strategic conference. Noel wanted to walk back to Cordillo, which we reckoned would take about 8 to 9 hours, so we had to leave then or leave it until the next day. We certainly didn't want to be walking at night! I considered the chances of a vehicle passing to be high enough to warrant persevering with our extraction attempts and we decided to stay. Noel went for another walk with a spanner this time to get a piece of steel off the windmill that he had seen.
It was about 11.30 am when Noel returned with a piece of steel. We hammered it into the ground with the small axe we had. First we tried to winch off it alone, but all it did was bend. So then we put the log in behind it, choked it up with lots of rocks and winched off both of them. This time it worked. The car slowly emerged out of the bog and we were relieved at last. Up until that point, I' m sure both of us believed we would have to walk 45 km next day, which would be Saturday, and we would have to hurry just to get home by Monday (driving, not walking!). It was nearly one o'clock by the time we packed the car and got going again, me driving.
I returned to the site of this memorable bog in 2005
The road seemed to improve after the "bog" except for a bad patch of water about one and a half kilometres further. Noel surveyed the route around it on foot then I followed. There were no problems after that and the road became quite fast except for various ruts, washaways and creeks, but nowhere near as severe as before. As we approached the Queensland border, 100 km from Cordillo, we entered some sand dune country with us on the flats with some large pools of water. We reached the border gate, which was open because it was in the middle of a huge pool of water. Noel surveyed it in his gum boots then I pressed on through without drama. Various other bogs had to be avoided by leaving the road and skirting the sand dunes on our left. The remaining 30 kilometres to the main road was through undulating dune country - quite good fun. There was only one gate, but it was just over a crest and we nearly collected it! The main road actually appeared about 5 kilometres early due to the realignment of the Birdsville Road. It is 110 km into Birdsville from there. The road is quite good gravel and we sat on 100 km/h. We passed several other vehicles on the road. The road climbs a number of very high dunes on the way with "crest" signs at the top. The view from the top is excellent although there isn't a great deal to see except for the Diamantina River flats to the north.
It was about 4 pm as we passed the Damperine Track on our left, then crossed the Diamantina River on the Birdsville Causeway and entered the town on a divided bitumen road. I'm very glad to have been to Birdsville - and just before the pub was burnt down! We went straight to the post office, a small fibro-cement "box" all on its own with a phone box outside. We went to open the phone box but a young girl stuck her head out the window of the post office and told us to come inside, the phone box did not work. Once inside, she tried to get through to Brisbane - all the communications are by radio - but she couldn't get through. She said that there had been so many tourists through making calls that the batteries had been run flat. So she took a telegram and we left.
Next stop was the police station which is at the other end of the town (towards Marree on the main track) and over behind the airstrip. There are big signs at the start of the track telling you to inform the police at both ends as you enter and leave the "track". Anyway, the policeman was "out" so we left a note saying where we had been and that we were going down the track a bit to camp then continue to Marree in the morning. This was not entirely true - we expected to be in Marree before morning, but didn't want to look like idiots!
Next step was the pub, which was just like the pictures showed it. As soon as we pulled up out the front, the publican shot out the door and said "your father's been looking for you!" What a welcoming - we stepped inside and he told us that father had called that morning to check if we had made it. In fact Dad had got into a good arrangement with the Flying Doctor Service radio operator at Broken Hill (an STD call from Melbourne) and got him to "ring around". Dad knew we had been through Cordillo but no more. He got our Birdsvile news at about 8 pm that night. We chatted to the publican and his wife and another couple on holidays and had a pub soda squash. The guys in the RACV Explorer Tours station wagon arrived then and we talked to them for a while. They were headed for the Gulf country. It was nearly five o'clock and there was a rumour that the fuel supplies were getting low so we both got going down to the general store to refuel. The store was a squat mud brick building, very cool inside and operated by a young Aboriginal girl. She served us petrol at a surprisingly low price - around 25 cents/litre. We filled right up and then headed out of the town.
The people at the pub had told us that "no-one goes down the main track now - it's too washed out" so we headed back the way we came, across the Diamantina and picked up the Damperine Track. This "outside" track skirts the swampy Goyder Lagoon areas in favour of the sand dunes and Gibber Plains further east. It heads a little east of south for a long way before turning due west to rejoin the main track near Clifton Hills Homestead, 217 km from Birdsville. At its most eastern point it is just 70 km from the road on which we were bogged the previous night. It was about 5 pm when we left Birdsville so we motored steadily southwards with me driving for about half an hour. It is only 9.6 km to the Grid where you cross back into SA. We then stopped as the sun was slipping down over the sand dunes that separate the road from the Diamantina River. After a bit to eat we set off again with me still driving since I felt quite OK and Noel was feeling a bit sick. Some vehicles passed us heading into Birdsville for the night but once dark, we saw no-one.
The Birdsville Track is certainly not as awesome as some other places we've been but it's not exactly a four lane bitumen highway either! For about 40 km from Birdsville, it is a fast sand based track, good solid surface and no problems at all. Then we started to get onto the gibber rock plains and there were sheets of water lying all over the place. We came over one slight brow to see a long sheet of water ahead and I braked hard and nearly arrived at it backwards. The Corolla was a bit of a handful with a hundred litres of fuel in its boot. Noel donned his gum boots to check the road through the water since we did not want a repeat performance of the previous night. It was OK and we continued through. This happened many more times and on several occasions the water was too deep so we had to take to the plains with Noel surveying a route around on foot whilst I followed. We must have been two or three hundred metres off the road on one occasion. On other occasions you could pick up a beaten track around the "bogs". I can recall one being about a kilometre in length.
At around 150 km from Birdsville we passed through another area of dunes and crossed over one quite high one with a sign on it "Goyder Sand Dune". The track was well constructed over the dune and not sandy at all. Before that we had hit a rut in one of the sheets of water quite hard then at about 160 km we came around a left hander into a patch of water and hit another deep rut. We came out other side and the steering felt very strange, pulling to the right and there were ominous scraping sounds. It was about 9.30 pm by this stage. We stopped, got out and crawled under the front. I expected to see a broken tie-rod but it was the strut that had cracked about 2 inches from the bottom. Fortunately the insert was still in place and was preventing the whole thing from falling apart, but a bump could bounce it out and that would be that! However, the strut was leaning over against the top of the tyre and it would only be a matter of time before the tyre would puncture. We considered our options, but we would have to press on to Clifton Hills, 50 km further, and hope he had a welder.
I drove for about 5 km. We were barely moving - 10 km/h with the tyre scraping and then it burst. We had two spares so we put one on and continued. Noel had a drive and this time the tyre lasted about 6 or 7 kilometres. This time we left it on and continued at an even slower speed. I just about went completely to sleep with boredom. Noel stopped after about 25 km and I had another drive. It was a slow process, but the light of Clifton Hills eventually appeared in the distance and slowly grew brighter. It was 215 km from Birdsville when we beared right off the Damperine Track and proceeded the 2.4 km to the homestead. I drove up to the house hoping, since the lights were still on, the find someone up as it was after 11 pm. The gentleman appeared and the various dogs that had surrounded us gradually surrendered. We told him our plight and he said he had a welder. He told us to camp over in the corner and we could look at it in the morning. I put the tent up on his gibber rock front "lawn" but Noel slept in the car. We had a cup of coffee then were both asleep quickly after a long and tiring day.
We awoke next morning at about 8 am and boiled the billy for coffee. The tent was optimistically packed away and then we got out the tools to begin work. By 9 am there was activity at the house so I went over and knocked on the back door. They would be out in a few minutes was the answer from within. I went back to the car which Noel had jacked up and gotten the mutilated tyre off. I proceeded to remove the strut. You need a 14 mm socket to remove the bottom bolts and we had every other size. I trundled over to the big shed where the guy was getting his welder organised, and after much searching we found a 14 mm socket in a pile of miscellany on the bench. The strut was soon off and I put it in a big vice to straighten the bent insert. I then laid it on the ground and lined it up. The guy said he couldn't weld very well so I'd better do it. I'm no expert either but it did hold until we got back to Stawell!
It was a bit after 10 am by the time we had the strut back on, thanked the guy and headed off. It's 1.4 km out to the main Birdsville Track which has a "road closed" sign on it then 300 metres to where the Damperine Track joins from the left. The "Track" is a quite good well made gravel road in this area, built up on a slight embankment above the saltbush plains. Every now and then it dips through a creek, some of which were rough and of course, we were treading gently. We stopped after about 10 km just to check but the weld looked secure.
About 83 km from Clifton Hills we passed a group of 4WDs at a hot bore. It was a fine sunny day and quite pleasant driving. At 116 km we reached the turnoff to Mungerainie Homestead which sells petrol and most things. We decided to detour and visit just in case they had a spare 13 inch tyre. They didn't have one, but there was a couple there in a Range Rover who were headed north and warned us of some deep water a little further south and at the Cooper Creek crossing.
I continued to drive from Muungerainie and after 18 km we came over a brow and had to stop quickly before entering a long deep stretch of water. I backed up and sure enough found a detour around. It kept on going for so long (1.8 km) that I thought we would never find the road again. At about 40 km from Mungerainie we passed the turnoff to Mulka Homestead then 7 km later entered the Natteranie Sandhills which continue for about 10 km. The track runs through this dune area which is quite pretty and a pleasant change from the flat boring road up to there. The sand was quite deep in one spot and you had to keep moving to avoid getting bogged.
At 64 km from Mungerainie we "entered" Cooper Creek. From our experience at Innamincka we could be excused for being pensive bit it was virtually dry. Actually, Cooper Creek is a 5 km wide flat low lying area where the Birdsville Track crosses and there is no obvious spot where the river is. There was one bad wet stretch which Noel surveyed on foot but it was quite solid. The change of scenery was also quite striking with lots of large eucalypt trees, greenness, reeds etc. after miles of saltbush. A few kilometres after we climbed out of Cooper Creek was another bad stretch of water and we took a 1.6 km detour which was really deep in bulldust and we very nearly got bogged in it.
At 83 km from Mungerainie we passed the turnoff to Etadunna Homestead then at 85 km we stopped at a grid for some lunch and a driver change. It was about two o'clock. As we were stopped a guy from Victoria arrived in an FE Holden towing a trailer. He remembered the car from the London-Sydney so we had to stand beside it while he took a photo! Nine kilometres later we passed Cannuwaukanina Bore - I just put that in for the name! We passed Dulkininna Homestead next then crossed the rocky creek of the same name. The road gradually improved and was almost a perfect gravel road by the time we passed the turnoff to the last homestead, Clayton, which is 52 km to Marree, which is 322 km from Clifton Hills and 540 km from Birdsville. It was 3.30 pm as we entered the sleepy town of Marree where the young girls, both black and white, parade up and down the street on a Saturday afternoon making rude remarks to the tourists.
We reported to the police station with a note, since the police officer was "out around town", which probably meant he was in the pub. The car was refuelled and I rang home - they actually have proper phones in Marree because it's on the train line. It was after four o'clock by the time we left on the long trek home to Melbourne. I had added up how far it was for something to do on the way into Marreee - 1300 km, so we would be home around dawn. That would take my total Melbourne return distance to 3350 km. Noel drove the mostly straight piece of gravel down to Leigh Creek then through Copley (this turned out to be a crucial section of the actual event due to an error in the route instructions). It was just getting dark as we skirted the Flinders Ranges and we saw our first kangaroo for a few days. It dashed across in front of us - a huge "red'. Somewhere just south of Copley we stopped and had a wash and some food and I took over driving again. It was well dark by the time we passed through Parachilna. Near Brachina we went through 10 km of roadworks with big rocks - it was the roughest road we had been on since Cordillo! At the end of the roadworks it was bitumen down to Hawker where we stopped at the general store for some fish and chip, and also refuelled.
I continued to drive through Quorn, then down the gravel road to Wilmington where I nearly hit another roo. Noel drove while I slept through Gladstone, Clare, Kapunda, Nurioopta and to Angaston where we called home to advise of our arrival next morning. I drove the next leg through Eden Valley, Palmer, Murray Bridge then down the Dukes Highway to Bordertown. I was pretty shagged by then and we stopped for fuel and sat down for coffee and toasted sandwiches. Noel then drove to his home in Stawell while I slept. After a quick shower at 4.30 am I left for Melbourne, now in my Datsun 180B. It was foggy all the way. I drove into the driveway at 7.30 am. It had been an eye opening experience and even if they didn't use that route I had learned a great deal about what it was like to drive such long distances.
