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This Article was written by Ilona Booth some years back
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BY AUSTIN 7 TO INNAMINCKA Page 3 Back to page2 The Lyndhurst road ran along or between sand dunes, and the going was fine. Drove through an automatic oilfield, with these big Triffid things just working away by themselves. From the turnoff to Cameron Corner (where the three states meet) we were running across the sand dunes instead of along, and it was like a huge roller coaster ride. This section had been widely mentioned as bad, and we were fully expecting to have to push the cars all the way, through huge sand dunes, but after what we'd been on this was a breeze. The approach was so steep that we had to creep up to the summit and peer over to ensure that there was no one coming up on the wrong side. We then swooped down the other side, our only hazard being in the patch of soft sand about where an airborne 4x4 would have landed. They only had trouble in trying to do it at 100kph. There were over 150 of these sand dunes, so I can see where someone in a fast modern could have got a tad seasick. After Cameron Corner we passed into N.S.W. and the road deteriorated to second gear corrugations. Did 20 ks of this into Fort Grey, where we set up camp, made a meal and lit a fire. It's a bare dirt place, with a few spindly trees, which we are asked not to cut as it takes over two hundred years for a tree to get to 20cm diameter. They provide firewood in all these parks for this reason, also sometimes a gas fire for cooking. Got very cold this night, down to freezing in the morning. FORT GREY to TIBOOBURRA Leaving camp we kept an eye out for the unmarked track which the lady storekeeper at Cameron Corner told us went off just by a patch of Coolabah trees about 3 kms from Fort Grey, known as the middle track and not as bad as the main drag. Managed to maintain a steady 30mph over much of this road, but once out into the Sturt National Park there were some bad sand patches and some very bad sudden trenches hidden in the sand that stretched right across the road and catapulted our gear from the back seat to the front every time we hit one. Pulled in to a mustering yard to repack. Peter pulled in after us, with what he thought was a flat tyre. Turned out to be a flat wheel, most of the spokes gone on one side. Crossed do many time zones and borders that we just left our clocks on Austin Time. The main drag, when we reached it, turned out to be a really good road, recently graded, and we had been sent out on the Not-So-Scenic-Jump-Up Road to avoid it. Got into Tibooburra around 2 and managed a reluctant meal from the pub. Our Cape York universal was showing its age and was due to get worse on the better roads, so Bob made enquiries from the local road train workshop and found that the universal from the steering bit on a big Mac truck was the same, so the boys retired to the workkshop and the girls visited the local School of the Air. The school master has laid out a botanic garden of indigenous plants, to encourage an interest in local flora, but the lack of water may defeat him. Promised to come back next morning when the local kids were in school. Had to be there at exactly 9.10 so they could keep their schedule of broadcast. Booked into the pub for the night, checked out the artwork in the bar. Used to belong to Clifton Pugh, who decorated the walls. Was good not having to unpack the tents, but on the down side, the town having run out of water, we showered in salty bore water. The pub is very old, thick stone walls, built on the old pub design of a long bar front with two wings running back - one for dining and one for residence, and a courtyard in the middle. Verandahs all round, of course. Lined up at the school gate next morning in time for morning assembly, when the children looked over our cars, then we went in to see how their school operated. The teacher broadcasts to the outlying stations, where the children participate in the class of local children (five or six of them) by radio telephone. TIBOOBURRA to BROKEN HILL, WILCANNIA, & WHITECLIFFS From there it was a full on dash to Reach Broken Hill before dark. Ranged the tents in a half circle and made a dinner. Had to go to bed as it was too cold to sit around without a fire. Spent the next day seeing the things we missed last time, among which a display of sculptures on one of the highest points in the area (great views) done by a selection of world sculptors using local stone and done in a set period of time. Interesting contrasts of European, Mexican and Aboriginal styles. Provisioned for the trip out to Whitecliffs, and walked the streets in the freezing cold after dinner til it was decent to go to bed. The road to Whitecliffs was off the main drag from Broken Hill to Sydney, strewn with a wide variety of ex-wildlife. Stopped at Wilcannia for lunch, by what would have been a beautiful little park by the river if the river hadn't been dammed up for cotton and rice growing in Queensland. One of the local aborigines apologised for the state of the river, told us how her grandmother, whom she introduced, grew up hunting along this river. One could perhaps see some of the reason for the rest of the town being trashed. Most of the stores are closed, windows all broken or meshed over. There is the usual magnificent stone courthouse, this one with a goal attached. Since there are 12 policemen in town to administer to the 800 odd black population, I imagine this is the only public building still in operation |
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