Beautiful sunny day, crisp morning, so we set out, coffee in hand towards Springsure. Dodging Victorian plated caravans wobbling across all lanes of the road, we finally pass their designated stop at Virgin Rock and continue to head into town.
Turning west onto the Tambo Road, we now find ourselves in un-chartered country, just the way Hugo likes it. One would think he would get his fill of wide open spaces whilst at work in Western NSW, but apparently not.
We pass herds of cattle, well fed and healthy, looking up at us as though we are merely an inconvenience to their planned day of eating. Onward onto dirt road, punctuated by sandy crossings and huge rocky sections that sneak up when least expected.
We pull up to check out the old wagon crossings, and find it difficult to imagine life in the 1800's, men and horse cutting their way through the virgin ironbark to create a wagon track west to the Barcoo. It's tough country, harsh and hot, and I can only imagine the hardships these men would have endured way back then.
Passing through many varying vistas, ironbark forests, to wide open spaces, to fern gullies and low lying salt pans. Every 5 kilometres the countryside changes, each incredibly beautiful in its original state.
We're now in the country, the real country Qld, marked by the two finger lift from the steering wheel of passing vehicles, or a nod of the Akubra from the man on horseback. It's almost pristine, aside from the Coke can we see thrown from the window of a passing truck.
Watching, as it bounces frantically along the potholed track, I feel sad, annoyed that this one shiny tube of aluminium has sullied the whole land before me. The presence of this bright red can on the dusty dirt track is out of place, and part of me feels let down, as if global marketing is present even in places most unexpected. I feel the gentleness of the land, the skill in which the station hands tend the soil and raise their cattle, is being undermined by the global companies looking to make their corporate mark in all corners of the globe. The trees are covered with Anti-Mining signs, a token of the fight against more destruction of this land by the global companies looking to make a buck, without a thought for the longevity of nature, as we know it.
Finally, we make it to the fork in the road, a monument to Major Mitchell and his party who roamed this land looking for an inland route from Sydney to Darwin. The ground is littered with tissues and the remnants of recent campfires, making me wonder if this campground must be listed in the Free Camp Qld Guide, the bible to all newbie Caravanners, as I am sure the local stockmen wouldn't leave their toilet waste laying about as such.
It's another 55 kilometres till we reach Salvatore Rosa, a beautiful sandstone section of the Canarvon National Park. We cut through private property, with incredible coloured cliffs and sandy gullies. The drive is superb, minimal traffic, healthy cattle along the roadsides and not a cloud in the sky.
As we pass along the banks of the Nogoa River, we cut through the dry salt lake and onto the camp grounds. There is toilet facilities and the camping area is well kept, primitive but clean and tidy.
We take the water crossing through the Nogoa, the water is cool and clear, having its origins just a few kilometres upstream from here. Passing by Spyglass Peak, we decide to have a walk around and see if we can climb this huge monolith. Rising up out of the sand like a concrete coloured Uluru, it's a mind blowing experience. One minute the track is sand, the next it is blocked by a huge hill rising up from nothing. I would love to be here at dusk or dawn, the photos would be incredible.
Further on down the track, we stop for our picnic lunch at the start of the Nogoa. Louisa Creek and Belinda Springs. The water passes through underground springs and peat moss till it finally pops out near Louisa Creek and becomes the Nogoa. It's so quiet, relaxing, a perfect spot for a break and a walk along the creek. The only sounds are from the birds and the bright orange dragonflies that are buzzing about the wild flowers along side the table.
Quietly reflecting on what a wonderfully lucky life I lead now, and thanking my lucky stars I am well enough to enjoy bush walking, rock climbing, I finish lunch and find a set of steep steps leading to the rivers edge. The water is as clear and as clean as the water from my kitchen tap. I can see the bottom of the river and as Hugo leans downs to check the temperature of the water, I briefly contemplate a swim. The water is freezing, having just come up from underground, through the ferns and peat moss, the sun has yet had the opportunity to warm the water.
We drive on past the large expanse of Major Mitchell Springs, an enormous water course of bird life and plants. It was near here that Major Mitchell and his party created yards, three sides being of rocky hillside and the other fenced near the water. You can still see remainders of the old fences and wire in this area, as well as marks carved into the rocks.
This is a beautiful area to experience nature. The many changes faces of the farm land, to the pristine fern gully of Belinda Springs. We climbed and walked over 15 kilometres today, and enjoyed very moment of it.
Turning for home, we decided to take the long road home via Tambo, for no other reason than we'd never been there, it's a long bumpy unsealed ride, and we reach there at 6pm. We bought an ice cream whilst we refueled and watched the kangaroos come in to graze on the banks of the town water supply on dusk. A female truck driver is down on the grass beside the local monument, doing abdominal crunches in her blue singlet and stubble shorts. Deciding against asking if I could take her photo, I felt a tiny bit guilty eating my Magnum Ego, caramel dripping down my chin, whilst watching her jump down from the Kenworth to do her daily exercise.
We turn and head for home, along dusty road toward Alpha. The sunset is so clear, bright vivid colours that are only ever seen in the outback lands of this amazing country. Kangaroos and cattle graze alongside the road, seemingly dazed by the headlights, happy to munch the grass and watch us, as we drive right by.
It's been a long day as we arrive home safely at 9.30pm. 13 and a half hours after we left home for a picnic lunch. Silently, I wish I could pack the swag and head back into the countryside to sleep under the stars, and awake to watch the sun rise over the beautiful hills of Salvatore Rosa. But it's Anzac Eve, and a 4 am start tomorrow to celebrate the Dawn Service.
Lest We Forget
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