East Macs

Sydney is a big city: busy, loud, crowded, impersonal, and the enclaves of natural vegetation are sparse. It's actually quite nice to be able to escape back to the arid heartland. Apart from stocking up with food, fuel, and water, there were a couple of things left to do before we departed Alice Springs, and the fabulous company and hospitality of Tom and Barbara.

We visited the Alice Springs Desert Park, which is essentially a modern zoo of local species in a setting that shows off the main local flora communities. Despite the high admission price, it is actually very good value. There is a movie theatre that has a spectacular and unique finale for the movie, a nocturnal house, and an outdoor free flying raptor show. The park is an excellent opportunity to see the birds, reptiles, and mammals that can easily be missed while exploring the desert. Our visit to the Alice Springs Telegraph Station was made considerably better by Alec, who grew up there when it was a mission. We also made a brief visit to the National Transport Hall of Fame to see the B series Macks which hauled the road trains that put the overland drovers out of business. Of course, we had to watch a few more episodes of Stargate.

All too soon, it was time to give up the rest of the urban luxuries and head out into the wilderness again. The Ross Highway leads us east past Emily and Jesse Gaps (in the postage stamp sized and cleverly named Emily and Jesse Gaps Nature Park), two of many such gashes in the Macdonnell Ranges, these having being gouged by ancestral caterpillars as depicted in rock paintings in each gap. A little further along is Trephina Gorge National Park, containing a much more substantial gorge and a series of rockholes along a major side canyon. There is a campground at each of these two main natural features (one 4WD access only, our natural choice), and a ridgetop walk between them. Since it was marked as a 6 hour hike (no distance provided) and Bill was feeling a bit under the weather, Helen did the walk and Bill drove her to the start. Imagine our surprise when Helen landed back in camp after just 3 hours. (We prefer hikes marked with distances!)

Further along the highway is N'Dharla Gorge, which features petroglyphs rather than paintings. We've never been overly impressed with petroglyphs, and these were no exception. The signage claims there are some 6000 glyphs, but the track only leads to two sites each with a dozen or so each. Perhaps there are some interesting ones in there somewhere, but they certainly aren't apparent. The perenti we spotted on the drive out, Australia's second largest lizard, was arguably more interesting.

Still further east is Arltunga Historical Reserve, site of the first significant white settlement in central Australia and the site of one of Australia's lesser gold rushes. There wasn't much gold there anyway, and the desperate lack of water made extracting it difficult. The description of extraction using mercury, cyanide, and sulphuric acid is ugly, as are the photos of a landscape totally denuded of vegetation to build houses and feed the boilers and forges. The miners, few of whom ever made any significant money, generally died young due to the dust and harsh conditions.

Amazingly, the area has mostly recovered from the ravages of exploitation, and NT Parks service have done a good job of making the area accessible. Most of the mines are sealed, but several are open for anyone with a torch. The ruins, graveyards, mines, and discarded equipment provide an insight into the harsh lifestyle of those early miners. Perhaps the highlight for us was Joker Gorge, where substantial numbers of black footed rock wallabies make their home. As we were scanning the gorge walls through the binoculars, we spotted another perenti among the rocks.

At the eastern extreme of our foray into the East Macs we reached Ruby Gap Nature Park, which includes multiple gorges along the Hale River. The high quality garnets here were mistaken for rubies, and were it not for the gold found subsequently at Arltunga, settlement of the area would have been much delayed. Even aside from the few precious minerals, the Macdonnell Ranges are geologically interesting and diverse. The ancient landscape has been folded and eroded over millenia, providing a surprising variety of environments that even rock novices can enjoy. Glen Annie Gorge is probably the most spectacular hike in the Macdonnells, east or west. There is intermittent water, steep rock walls, and wider parts with diverse vegetation. At the end of the hike is Fox's grave, but we found no information about who Fox was or why his grave is there. Another of life's mysteries.

There are signs everywhere insisting that you should register your entrance and exit to Ruby Gap (which we dutifully did). The road to the park entrance is easily accessible in a high clearance 2WD. The road into in the park however follows the river, and is strictly 4WD only. After about 7 km a sign says 4WD not recommended, and a little further in another says no vehicles past this point. Bill of course ignored the first sign (after all, it's just a recommendation), going on where most others turn back. We got in and out easily, but while we were there, another vehicle became stranded where we had passed. The registration process seems geared up for outback novices (they couldn't even provide us a weather report for a gorge where flash flooding is the only real danger) - next time we won't bother.

We made our exit from the East Macs northward through Cattlewater Pass and the Harts Range. This 4WD only track passes through a diverse range of vegetation types, the most striking among them mallee in a sea of spinifex. The ornithological highlight of the trail for us was a pallid cuckoo, but we had also noticed that in the East Macs grey headed honeyeaters greatly outnumber white plumed honeyeaters, contrasting against the West Macs where the reverse is true. The pass joins the Plenty Highway at one of several fossicking areas, where you can search for garnets or zircons (neither of which come close in value to the opals laying on the ground further south).

Returning to the Stuart Highway, we began making our way north again. At Ti Tree we encountered what might be Australia's smallest fruit fly exclusion zone, where excellent mango icecream is available to tempt hot travellers. The road house offers surprisingly pleasant grassy camp sites and has mobile signal, so we stayed the night and checked email before continuing north. Australia has some fabulous outback pubs full of history and memorabilia, but Barrow Creek isn't one of them. It's just a few grumpy old men in a dirty old pub. Even the Telegraph Station there is uninspiring, just a locked building with a sign out front. Needless to say, we didn't stay long.

Heading off the highway again, we made our way east to the Proposed Davenport Ranges National Park using the southern (4WD only) access road. It passes by the abandoned Hatches Creek Wolfram mines (look for W on your periodic table), which was worked intermittently during the first half of last century. When the road improved to 2WD standard, we turned off onto the rocky 4WD alternate track to Policeman's Waterhole, the largest most permanent waterhole on the Frew River. We explored the ruins of the homestead / police outpost, and climbed one of the nearby hills. We encountered a ranger who explained that "soon", the cattle in the park would be mustered out and the word "proposed" would be removed from the name. A stiff wind had been blowing for days, thwarting our desire to kayak and causing us to abandon plans to assist the ranger mapping weeds (i.e. wander through the spinifex with a GPS looking for weeds we'd never recognise anyway).

We took the northern 2WD access road out, finding a somewhat wind sheltered spot on the roadside for a cuppa. After we'd been there a bit, the sound of gunshots drew our attention to a farmer coming our way. Fortunately, he was after dingos not tourists. After a quick chat, we headed off to the farmhouse to set up Internet connection sharing on a satellite link. Certainly an unusual way to land a job.

From there we headed back into the northern corner of Davenport Range National Park, to the Whistleduck Creek campground. Unlike further east in the park, the campsites are somewhat distant from the waterholes. As we hiked up the creek past the waterholes, we encountered more birdlife than elsewhere in the park, with black chinned and the usual honeyeaters, rainbow bee-eaters, herons, cormorants, dotterels, woodswallows, and doves.

Back on the highway, we had a short diversion south to the Devils Marbles Conservation Reserve. The granite has eroded to form boulders up to three metres in diameter, many of which are perched on other rocks. The rocks are strewn over an an area of several acres. An unusual sight indeed, but central Australia has quite a few of those.

Toward The Top

The Stuart Highway between Tennant Creek and Katherine is over 600 kilometres. Last time we travelled it, we drove the full stretch in a day. This time we were determined to see the sights, which consists mostly of monuments to noteable people associated with the area and World War Two relics. Like this website itself, the challenge is to make it more than just a list of place names. The road trains that ply this highway are BIG, but this doesn't seem to deter the fanatics on overloaded push bikes. Like so many road warriors before us, we set off north.

Mary Ann Dam just 5 km north of Tennant Creek has a shady, grassy picnic area beside a large cool dam. A great place for lunch to rest after a long drive, but we're just starting out. A further couple of km north is the very poorly signposted Devils Pebbles. You can see the resemblance to the marbles at a stretch, but they're not overly inspiring. Next is the junction of the the Barkly Highway, the only sealed road exiting the state to the east. The junction boasts a roadhouse and the John Flynn memorial, a large concrete block commemorating his efforts in creating The Royal Flying Doctor Service.

Attack Creek has a large rock with a plaque for Stuart, whose fourth foray north ended there. (On his sixth attempt, he made the first south-north traversal of the country by a white person. Hence the name of the highway.) The back of the door of the toilet in the adjacent rest area has a more detailed account of the encounter from an aboriginal perspective. Irrespective of the version you choose to believe, the location is of importance as one of the few places where the indigenous people stood up against the white invasion and won a temporary reprieve.

Over lunch at one of the rest areas, we met a young swiss traveller. He was telling us of all new the things he'd seen and experienced for the first time here in Australia, especially the food. To our shock, he had not tried lamingtons. We explained what they were, and cautioned him that he had to get good ones. A month or so later, he emailed saying he'd found one, and shared with us the address of his blog. We can't understand a word of it, but it looks like he had a good time.

On a stretch of the old highway at the crest of a hill in the Whittington Range is Churchill Rock. Apparently, some of the early WWII traffic thought there was some resemblance to the then world leader, but any resemblance is remote, despite the stout branch added to simulate a cigar. Keep in mind that unlike us, those boys heading north to defend Australia didn't have monuments or abandoned WWII sites to stop and look at along the way. The diversion along the old highway is interesting and worth taking anyway, as it passes through more interesting country than the realigned road.

Our stop at Renner Springs was a couple of nights longer than planned, to allow for another job. The job managed to distract us from finding the spring named after doctor Renner. A little something left for next time. As we move further north there is a gradual progression to greener, taller, and more dense vegetation. That means more fuel for fires, and more fires. The black kites circle in the air above the fires, hunting for prey, exposed and homeless. The dust and smoke make very colourful sunsets, the sun a red ball while still well above the horizon. The town of Elliott provides us with our next job and our first WWII relics, a few concrete slabs on the side of the highway near the town's ANZAC memorial.

The nearby historic town of Newcastle Waters is a shadow of it's former size, and it wasn't very big to begin with. It's claim to fame is the junction of the early major overland stock routes, making it a favoured watering hole and rest stop for the cattle drovers. Improving roads and the advent of road trains put the overlanders out of business and took away the town's lifeblood. The reality behind the romantic images created by those early Australian authors like Patterson and Lawson only really existed for a very short time. To our disappointment, the waterholes and associated wildlife are behind fences with "keep out" signs. The short diversion off the highway is worth the effort, not for the bronze drover, but for the corrugated iron pub and the memorabilia it contains.

Near the point where the two teams building the Overland Telegraph line met, is the Todd monument, Todd having been the Post Master General of South Australia at the time. This might well be the most boring of all the monuments on this stretch of road (although it's a pretty tight contest). The quick succession of roadhouses, first Dunmarra and then the Hi-Way Inn where the Carpentaria Highway leaves the state heading for The Gulf, lead us to Daly Waters. Not only does it have an authentic outback pub, it has a WWII airstrip. The hanger has a fair set of interpretive signage, and there a few small scattered bits of broken planes.

Back on the highway and the next monument is to Alexander Forest, constructed from old Overland Telegraph poles cut up and welded together, commemorating the first white man to reach the OT line from the west coast. Just before the town of Larrimah are a hospital and a refuelling depot. The hospital is now just a set of concrete slabs with disabled access between them, and the refueling depot a field of concrete tank stand legs among trees, termite mounds, and the occasional rusty 44 gallon drum. The town itself has a museum in the old police station, but more of that later.

Just north of Larrimah is the abandoned Gorrie airstrip and maintenance facility. The highlight is the fact that you can drive down the airstrip, but with all the signs gone, it's a challenge to find. There are many sealed roads threading through the once bustling area. A GPS is almost an essential tool, and a good map helps too. Like elsewhere in the tropics, there are termite mounds everywhere. As the soil varies, so does the colour of the mounds. The local parrots apparently prefer to nest in the grey mounds, as they are softer than the red ones. We'll keep an eye open.

Larrimah is blessed with two pie shops, each proclaiming the best pies anywhere. Since we arrived a little early for lunch, we had to visit the airport first. On our return, we partook of the famed pies, but unlike their modern urban counterparts, these actually contain real meat. We landed another job, but a particularly cantankerous software conflict delayed us yet again. In fact, the job was only partially complete when we pulled out, promising to return in a few days.

At this point a little Sydney based work was available but on a strict deadline, so we drove straight through to Katherine. The local school libraries provided us with all the resources we needed, and a room at one of the backpacker resorts provided creature comforts and endless power for the laptops. Bill's involvement was minimal, so he took off for a day and kayaked Katherine Gorge. Since we'd only made it to the sixth gorge last time, Bill was on a mission to reach the ninth. The goal was achieved, and he made it back five minutes before the search party was due to be arranged. Unlike Ruby Gap, this registration scheme is one that is well worthwhile.

With the work sent off to Sydney, we headed back down to Larrimah. We finished off the job, and resumed our slow northward trek. The job distracted us from the seeing the museum (another something for next time), but the customer's house was something of a museum itself. Our next historic site is the Elsey Cemetery, which contains the graves of the characters from We Of The Never Never. This book was written by Mrs Jeannie Gunn just after the turn of last century, and quickly became a classic piece of Australian literature. It's the story (oddly) of a literate woman who visited the "Never Never" for a couple of years. She got an OBE for her contribution to literature.

Next up is Mataranka and the adjacent Elsey National Park. The Roper River is fed by underground aquifers in the limestone karst (like the one underneath the nullarbor, only filled with monsoonal rains), which also feed a couple of warm springs. At this time of year, the bats move in to feed on the trees flowering in the surrounding woodland. This year is a small one, a mere 40,000 bats are in the area. (They can have up to 200,000 in a big year.) Once you pass the crass commercial resort (the old Mataranka homestead), the pool near the spring is magic, if you can tolerate the overpowering stench of bat shit. They like to sleep the days away in the palm and paperbark forest that lines the springs and parts of the river. At twelve noon the resort shows the video of Gunn's book, and the tourist busses roll in all day.

We camped at the twelve mile stockyards in the national park (away from the bats), and kayaked on the Roper. Four kilometres downstream is Mataranka Falls, a one metre high rockshelf with a substantial flow over it. Bill took the opportunity to kayak over the falls in the slalom boat (which is of much sturdier construction than the tourer). It's the first time he's managed to "catch some air", but the landing highlights the need for a skirt to keep the water out when you're in whitewater. Our only regret is not taking the camera. Surprisingly, there are more birds in the campground than anywhere else we stopped in the park.

Next day is a one way trip from the four mile to the twelve mile. Helen was roadcrew, and Bill did the paddle. He made the mistake of taking the tourer - never judge a paddle by its cover. He should have taken the slalom boat and the short paddle. There were portages, trees down, narrow stretches, and plenty of white water. It was easy to sneak up on roos and pairs of satin flycatchers, but very disconcerting when the four foot freshwater crocodiles slide into the river as the boat approaches. Fortunately, the rangers trap and remove any saltwater crocs that move in over the wet.

Our final stop in Mataranka was Bitter Springs. It is much the same as the one near the homestead, but remains in its natural state. The water is clear with a slight blue tinge, making it easy to ignore the natural detritus surrounding it. The limestone kast that feeds the Roper River, like the one under the nullarbor, is home to many caves. Cutta Cutta caves just south of Katherine are different to most other limestone caves, being fed by monsoonal rains. That means that the caves flood in some wet seasons, and the activity often ceases towards the end of the dry season.

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