Finally the school holidays are over, the holiday crowds have subsided, and people are back thinking about their computer problems. That means it's time for us to hit the road again. We headed out of Coober Pedy along the Oodnadatta Track, passing through gibber plains and over the occasional sand dune. Coward Springs provided us with a quick dip, and a massive flock of corellas with a place to roost and squawk.
Our first night back in the tent was spent in Farina, once the railhead serving central Australia, now a ghost town.
The final blow to the town was the closure of the post office in the early 60's.
Now there's just the nearby homestead of the same name, which maintains an excellent campground among the redgums that line the nearby creek.
Although dry, the banks are grassed, and among the birdlife was a large family of emus.
From there we headed east into the Gammon Ranges, a dry and desolate place. It is difficult to imagine how our ancestors ever thought it was possible to raise sheep there. Despite the arid landscape, we saw quite a few kangaroos and even an occasional rabbit. After a night at the Grindell's hut campground (the hut itself would be a great place to stay, and is available to rent), we hiked to Weetootla Spring, an oasis in an otherwise parched landscape. It ensures a short stretch of the Weetootla Creek has a permanent flow of water. We also drove the 4wd loop track that provides access to much of the park and some great views of the ranges.
Since it is so close, we made a quick diversion north to Arkaroola. We had a short chat to the manager about the facilities of the private conservation reserve that adjoins the Gammon Ranges National Park.. Bill had been there about 20 years ago, and it is no longer as remote as he remembered it. From there we headed on to Mt Chambers gorge, a camping area on private land. It is one of several ribbons of green which follow the dry creekbeds that cut through the desert landscape. In one of the side gorges is an aboriginal petroglyph site, which although small has a large number of glyphs (unlike the site we visited last year in the east macs). We were disappointed by the idiots who have defaced the site, but fortunately the damage is minor.
We made it into Wilpena Pound in the Flinders Ranges National Park just a couple of days before a one week closure (intended to allow the rangers to cull the feral goats).
Wilpena is one of the few places in the area where there is abundant vegetation and large stands of trees.
We hiked into the pound itself, and up the rim from which the views are spectacular.
Chirping loudly and fluttering between the shrubs were two species of thornbills, inland (broad tailed) and chestnut rumped.
The similarities between them and the mix of both species made proper identification challenging.
From there we crossed another large expanse of flat dry sheep country, heading toward the border and Danggali Nature Reserve. The reserve forms part of the Bookmark Biosphere Reserve, and protects a diverse range of flora including mallee and black oak woodlands (amongst which we spotted several flocks of major mitchell parrots). It is overseen by a knowledgeable and friendly ranger who has been there for 20 years and lived his whole life in the area. His stories of rabbit trapping in his youth and managing nearby properties adds a real depth to our appreciation of the area. It will be a challenge for National Parks administration to retain even a portion of his knowledge when he eventually retires.
Continuing south, we were forced to skip Chowilla Game Reserve as it was closed for a duck shoot. Who'd want to camp amongst a bunch of trigger happy bird killers anyway? On our way through Renmark, we saw huge expanses of green parks and lawns (the first real greenery we've seen in ages). The water of the mighty Murray River is exploited by everyone along its massive length, not just the many irrigation farmers. Arriving at the Murray brings us back to the weeds we recognise, willow and poplar adorning its banks at most towns.
Looking for somewhere else to camp instead, we headed on to Katarapko Creek in the Murray River National Park. Within minutes of arriving we spotted a little eagle. We've had our eyes out for one for years without success, but recognition was almost instant - we were surprised how distinctive its markings are. As we set up camp we noticed an abundance of brown treecreepers patrolling the redgums for insects. (A shame they were not eating the masses of mosquitos that flourish near the river!) With the dawn of a new day, it was time for our first kayak since Western Australia.
From there we headed west to Blanchtown, to catch up with a couple of Helen's (very) distant relatives. In addition to exploring a bit of family history, we also got to go for a tour of the local gypsum mine and the family farm. As well as their own operations, they have a little share farming on their land. Here we discovered an interesting aspect of Australia's water management, with the share farmers using their own water rights not those of the land holder.
We returned to Chowilla (pronounced "chow-la" by the locals - it's easy to see the virtue of the American spelling rationalisations) for one more kayak on the Murray.
Along with the birds in the redgums and the kangaroos along the banks, there are of course the masses of carp in the river (another weed species we are all too familiar with).
Exploring the park we found the cairn built in the late 1800's to mark the border, and uncovered a little of the story of the dog-leg in the SA border at the Murray.
It seems that the original survey team were off by a few kilometers, and in 1868 Sir Charles Todd identified the correct location, but despite years of court battles the Victorians refused to return the misappropriated land.
As is apparent from previous maps we have made a number of east/west traversals in this area, but none north/south. Consequently, there are a number of parks that we've missed. We intend to correct this, but it means a bit of border hopping. In doing so, we need to avoid losing all our fruit and vegetables at the border checkpoints. (It's all purchased inside the exclusion zone and we barely make it outside the zone, but try telling that to a border guard.) Consequently, all our westbound crossings must occur on unpatrolled roads.
Slipping across the border into Victoria, we immediately turned south onto the Taparoo Track into Murray Sunset National Park. It was once sheep country, but the predominantly mallee country really can't support livestock, and it was eventually turned into a park. After camping at the campground near the old shearers' quarters, we walked the nearby nature trail spotting mulga parrots and ringnecks among the mallee then continued south along the South Bore Track and out of the park. Crossing another east/west highway bordered on each side with sheep/wheat country, we continued south into the edge of Big Desert National Park then slipped west across the border into Scorpion Springs Conservation Reserve.
Overnight at Pine Hut Soak campground a southerly change came through, bringing a little rain and welcome cooler weather for our desert travels. After a morning hike to the (currently dry) fish ponds with the accompanying calls of a plethora of wattle birds, we continued south along the Border Track. (The border track is actually one way southbound, but fortunately we're headed that way.) Although the rain firmed slightly the deep soft sand, a couple of steep dune climbs added considerable challenge to the otherwise comparatively easy track. Scorpion Springs is part of the Ngarkat (the 'g' is silent) group of reserves in SA that adjoin Big Desert NP in Victoria. Between them they protect a huge area of mallee and heathlands.
Picking up another east/west highway bordered by yet more sheep/wheat farming, we slipped back into Victoria, and immediately turned south again onto the Tallageira Track into Little Desert National Park. By now the sands are broken up by the occasional claypan, and white eared honeyeaters enjoy the open woodlands and xanthoria are common in the intervening heath. Our trek through the desert parks in summer would normally be unwise, but the weather has been unusually cool making for an excellent trip.
Slipping back into South Australia one last time, we continue south to Naracoorte Caves National Park.
The caves have been World Heritage listed, due to the presence of mega fauna fossils.
The fossils provide a window into Australian history, and SA Parks have done a great job of making that history accessible and understandable.
In addition to the fossils, there are typical limestone formations and caves where bats reside.
The parkland setting (that replaces the plantation forest which predates the park) attracts huge numbers of birds (such as lorikeets and white tailed cockatoos).
Like the Alice Springs Desert Park we visited last year, it is expensive, but great value.
From there we headed to the nearby Bool Lagoon Game Reserve. Much of the Naracoorte plain was once wetlands, but most has been drained for agriculture leaving a mere 10% tightly encircled by wheat paddocks. Bool Lagoon was kept as a game reserve for gun happy duck shooters, and just before it was utterly ruined, someone decided to win a few brownie points by listing it as a Ramasar wetland. Indeed, the wetland birds are fantastic (all the usual suspects, including the native hen and the spotted crake) but the overall picture is pathetic. Add to that the excessive entry and camping fees, and you could almost skip it entirely.
Continuing south, we finally reached the coast at Canunda National Park. After a quick hike around the limestone cliffs of Cape Buffon, we camped the night at Geltwood Beach with the gentle sound of surf in the background. The following day we hiked around the Coola Outstation, yet another failed sheep venture. Sheep could not be grazed there for more than a few months, as the sandy ground lacks some essential trace minerals (causing "coast disease"). Coincidentally, the sheep farmers adjusted the trace element balance for the worse by laying arsenic laced carrots for the rabbits.
The south east corner of South Australia is unlike most of the state, comparatively lush and green. It is a productive agricultural district, and includes a few very nice farming service towns like Naracoorte and Millicent. We decided to skip the snorkelling opportunities in Piccaninnie Ponds Conservation Park, when we discovered that the water is a chilly 12 degrees. No thank you. (Next time we might bring the full length wetsuit required for a permit.)
From there we slipped over the border through Nelson and into Lower Glenelg National Park. Another cool change slipped past overnight, bringing with it a light drizzle. The park follows the Glenelg River, with a load of campgrounds along the banks of the river. More than half are only accessible by canoe, and there are nowhere near enough for the usage, resulting in one of the few parks where you have to book a site. Fortunately we arrived mid week, so there were a few empty sites.
We went bird spotting on Livingstone Island, finding the usual waterbirds, and spotted a crested grebe. Naturally we explored the Glenelg by kayak, but only scratched the surface of what's available. (Our short explorations were sufficent to uncover small infestations of radiata pine, originating from the plantations that encircle the park.) There is so much more to the river - you could take a few days and explore the entire length. The dense bush in the park is home to many birds, and marks the transition to the east coast species. The crimson rosellas are actually crimson, while gang gangs, eastern robins and spinebills abound.
After a quick stop at Cape Bridgewater to see the blowholes and petrified forest in Discovery Bay Coastal Park, we headed up to Mt Eccles National Park.
Both the cape and Mt Eccles are extinct volcanoes, one overrun by the ocean, the other filled with rainwater.
Mt Eccles is a magic little place, a cheap well appointed campground with nice sites.
Prolific breeding in the Park's koala population has led to unsustainable numbers, necessitating a control program to stop them destroying the manna gums on which they graze.
The park protects assorted lava formations, including caves, channels, blisters, and even a natural bridge.
It has finally dawned on us the reason behind the drab tone of the Victorian convict era constructions, on which we have previously mused. The volcanic bluestone raw materials that abound on the southern coast just don't have the same feeling as the lighter sandstone used in states immediately north and south of here.
As regular readers will know, we're not fond of crowds. Since leaving Coober Pedy, we've been off the regular tourist trail. Not any more - we are definitely heading back into tourist territory.
Back to the coast and continuing east, we traversed the Great Ocean Road. We were last here in 1998, and the only thing that's changed is the size of the crowds. The most dramatic example is the Twelve Apostles Centre, which is basically a massive carpark and toilet block. Rather than making another viewpoint where you can see the other 5 apostles, they've just enlarged everything that was there before and added an underpass. They should have called it the Seven Apostles Centre.
The last stop in our trek along the southern coast is Otway National Park. We camped a couple of nights on the Aire River, which provided us another kayak opportunity. We were not the only canoeists - we spied a fellow casting a fly rod while standing in a Canadian as it drifted along the estuary. Although we've generally been fairly lucky with insects, the midges here dined on us with little mercy.