Thursday 27
We’re on our way to Uluru! Yesterday Toyota replaced our rear passenger side wheel bearing and rear brake shoes and we picked her up at 4pm. With the extra work, we decided to have one last sleep in a bed and leave in the morning – giving us the opportunity to have one last look out at the Super Pit and refuel. Johny had picked up his work bag and swag from Chicco’s and found a place to put the swag without creating wind drag. Jammed in-between the spare tyre holder and ladder on the rear, it was the perfect spot.
It felt good to be back on the road and we were excited for what was to come. Johny had taken many a track around WA for work, but this time we were pushing past and heading along the Great Central Road back to the Northern Territory.
We took the back roads to Laverton and began to make our way north. Clouds had formed overnight and had begun to follow us. The wind we thought we had left behind in Steep Point had also returned and made for a forceful head wind. The day was a long drive and surprisingly we passed a few other cars heading the opposite direction. Aboriginals in bush-bashers mostly, but the road was seemingly much more frequented that anticipated. We pulled up about a kilometre from the main road into the bush and set up camp. A burnt out car had claimed its final resting place and sat 100 meters from us. The wind made for a challenging setup as the clouds looked dark as they loomed over us. We built a fire to keep the bugs at bay and again to provide warmth to our campsite. “It all feels a bit new again” I said to Johny, “With almost a week at Alli and Jamie’s in the house, I have to remember my routine again out here” I continued. It did feel a bit weird, yet as we ate dinner and sat by the fire, it all started to make sense again.
Johny had taken the waterproof cover off the roof-top tent back on the coast of WA due to the high winds. It made an incredible racket flapping around when the wind got strong, so we decided to leave it off. We have been incredibly fortunate this trip and have yet to see rain in the almost three months we have been away. However tonight, with the clouds dark above, the rain was a risk we weren’t willing to take, so we decided to keep the water-proof cover on even though the wind was strong. As we brushed our teeth, big fat droplets spattered down on us and we laughed at the sight. With it not bearing much volume, we continued to climb into bed as it passed over us. The night was long as we both tossed and turned as the wind shook our tent. “You’d never get this in a swag” Johny mumbled as he pulled the blanket up and we tried again for sleep.
Friday 28
After a gusty and windy night, we were tired. The showers coming over us like waves on a beach aided in a terrible nights sleep. Broken sleep starts catching up with you – I had the next three days of driving ahead playing on my thoughts all night which definitely didn’t help rest my mind to get me back to sleep. Embers still hot from the night before and our stock pile of wood, Cath brought the flames back to life once again bringing comfort to the body while we had breakfast in front of it. As we were packing up, I kept getting glimpses in the corner of my eye of the burnt out car over from us. I kept assuming it was someone else and would quickly look over to it.
It had an eerie presence, making us not feel quite alone, even though we knew there was no one else around for hundreds of kilometres.
We would pass many burnt out car wrecks later along the road; 50% of them up-turned from people that had scavenged parts from the under carriage.
We were on the road again and pulled into Tjukayirla Roadhouse mid morning. We did not need fuel, but it was more for our own curiosity and to see what was there. A single building with no cars parked out the front. There were two cages containing fuel bowsers out the front of it all locked up. Like a scene from The book of Eli, it was far from inviting and had me thinking about an old women running out with a sawn off shot gun in one hand and a cup of tea in the other inviting us in. We quickly continued on, worried and uncomfortable.
The drive to Warburton was a long one. We passed roadworks which felt like the middle of no-where; a grader team levelling out the road again. The scenery had not changed much since Laverton – outback shrubs with the occasional sand dune and red dirt. Harsh, hot dry country, bare of all animals this morning, we had not seen a single living thing. Just after lunch we made it into Warburton and unsure of where the roadhouse was to get fuel, we drove into the small community. Rubbish was littered everywhere. Houses with doors and fence panels missing with the odd smashed window here and there made for an un-settling welcome. The local community staring at us as we crawled through the streets slowly in search of the fuel bowser. “Maybe it is back on the high way?” I asked Cath. We drove out of town and back on the Great Central Road. Finally we found it. Once again, the bowsers were locked behind a caged door. One was open and we pulled up along side it. I jumped out and locked up all the doors to the canopy. I was not going to take any chances. Feeling very uncomfortable around the locals that were coming out the bush from everywhere to get lunch from the roadhouse, I fuelled up as Cath hung around close to me feeling very insecure. We were getting starred upon by the locals and it was making us uncomfortable. Unsure whether it was us or the ute that they were watching, we made our way in. There was a queue in front of us. The Aboriginal locals all ordering fast food of hot chips and chicken, with chocolate bars for dessert. There was a large fridge opposing the counter, full of fresh vegetables and fruit. Yet none of it was touched. I wondered if it would just sit and go to waste until the next load came in to restock its shelves? Did they do this week after week? If no-one was buying the healthy groceries, was there a need to keep re-ordering them? A lot of questions went through my mind as we drove out from the community – these people were not helping themselves. Was it simply from lack of education or just a lack of self-respect? Either way I wonder how many more generations it will go on for until things change.
Out of our comfort zone and knowing that we can get harassed when pulling out food in front of watching eyes from past experiences, we decided to have lunch out of town and under the shade of a lone gum tree. We chatted about our experiences we have had along the way with the Aboriginal communities, both good and bad and wondered how things could improve for them.
It was too complicated for us to have an answer, so we settled to just enjoy our lunch and embrace the positive experiences and people we had met along our journey.
Further down the track we noticed a car on the side of the road with a load of Aboriginal fellas loitering around it. None of them lifting a hand in our direction, I thought I should stop and see if they needed any water. As we slowed, two dogs raced out from the bush barking aggressively at our ute. I nearly ran one of them over and got myself in a bit of a panic! Not wanting to hit a dog, I swerved around it and punched the gas so as they did not catch us. “Bollox to it, I was going to stop but screw that babe. Those dogs looked so angry and those people looked sketchy as”, I said to Cath. She agreed and we were back up to speed leaving them behind in a dust cloud. I have heard some horrific stories over the years from friends and work colleagues that have crossed central Australia of not so great things happening when stopping to help. With that in mind, it unfortunately soothed my conscience for not stopping as we continued on.
We passed another roadhouse – Ngaanyatjarra-Giles later that afternoon, seeing what the last two looked like and carrying enough fuel to last until Yulara, we decided to continue on without paying the interest to see what it was like.
BANG! The ute pulled hard to the left side.
A loud rumbling noise was coming from it. I instantly knew we had blown the tyre. As we slowed rather quickly, I managed to keep the ute from ripping off the road and down into the gutter. We finally came to rest just on the side of the road, sitting in the soft part of gravel where the edge of the grader blade pushed the soft gravel too. Looking in my side mirror I could not see the bottom half side of the ute. I have seen the damage a tyre can do to body panels when it lets go in a manner that it had done for us. I was concerned that it could have bent our brand new wheel arch or even worse altered our fuel intake hose and air lines or even bent the rear under side tool boxes. I ran around to see the tyre was completely mangled. It had blown in several spots all around both sides of the tyre and there were gaping holes with wire sticking out. “Thank god the only damage is the tyre. What a relief everything else is fine babe!” I shouted. Cath later told me that I was smiling at this time, as apparently I like things going wrong so I can repair them. I’m not going to lie, she’s right. Secretly I like getting into situations where it takes a lot of brain-power and thought to fix and get out from. I think that is why I like four-wheel driving so much. It brings a large amount of problem solving.
Knowing the high lift jack points on the rear are too high to lift the rear wheels off the floor after testing it at Chicco’s house a few days ago, I would have to use the bottle jack I have. This involved removing everything from the rear seats so I could get to it. Eventually we had everything out and on the side of the road sitting in the red dust while I dug out underneath the ute and got the Steed up and in a position where I could change the tyre. An hour later, with hard shovelling and a strategic swap of tyres, I had done it. “That was a successful job well done, high five” as I clapped hands with my wife. We had the sun glowing down, lighting up the sky in a beautiful orange colour. Our last WA sunset this trip, and it was giving us a fantastic one as we re-packed the ute and drove with our backs to it watching it in the wing mirrors. Darkness quickly set in as we found an incredible campsite for the night overlooking a rocky ridge range to the north. Later on at home, I would watch Ronny Dahl on his YouTube channel to find that when he came across the Great Central Road he also camped in the exact same spot. Tired from our big day, we had wraps for dinner and were in the tent once again, listening to the wind pick up as it had the night previously. “Great” Cath said as we lay listening to the tent flap in the wind. To the east of us, the nights sky was lit up again in an orange glow from a bush fire. “I hope that doesn’t get too close to us as the winds coming from that direction” I said. We slowly drifted off to the smell of bush fire tainting our noses.
The Cooks.
TotallyCookd. 