Avon Downs to Cape Crawford

Day 24—Thursday,18^th July (Avon Downs to Brunette Downs 343kms)

We left Avon Downs at 9.00am, after a lazy breakfast. The camp sites had filled up quickly during the course of the afternoon and most of them had gone by the time we left, not quite the last to leave, a couple stayed behind, perhaps they’d been celebrating the Maroons win last night in State of Origin 3. We are heading for Barkly Homestead this morning, on the Barkly Highway, with about 260kms to the Homestead. A good road and straight a lot of the time, with flat plains country, not much road kill and no stock in sight.

At one stage, we had to pull over for a check after a passing vehicle was seen madly waving us down. Our fresh water hose had jumped out of the carry tray in the A-frame and we’d been dragging it along the highway. Stored and tied down properly this time, a little damage to the brass connector, we’ll find out how much when we next connect.

We stopped to fill up again at the Homestead, I reckon out here, you take the opportunity when presented. Conservatively, our towing capacity is about 600kms. We’d covered 260kms and there remained 380kms to Cape Crawford, the next available fuel. Too close for comfort. After fuelling, we moved to a rest area opposite the Homestead and found some shade to park under while we had lunch.

In the event, we were just 143kms short of our destination and we covered the distance in about an hour and half.

This was now on single lane sealed roadway, something we’d had a bit of experience with after Thargomindah. By Helens count, we encountered three roadtrains at which point, we pulled off the lane and stopped, giving the train no need to move over. We did get friendly honks for this.

We also passed twenty caravans and here we slowed right down but with off side still on the roadway. All the vans did likewise and friendly waves were exchanged.

However, we encountered a couple of utes towing speedboats who didn’t bother to slow which resulted in a chip in the Patrol’s windscreen. Bugger!

Lunch and fuel at Barkly Homestead

More single lane driving, 375kms

Arriving at Brunette Downs, we moved a short way into the scrub, finding three or four other vans already set up. Very soon, we too were set up and set for the night, another very quiet one! Since Mount Isa, no radio, no telly and no mobile and I can’t see that changing until we reach the Stuart Highway at Daly Waters in a couple of days. We were parked quite near a water trough and Helen was amused to watch the cattle moving in and out for a drink.

Pinching the shade at Brunette Downs

The look says it all, we pinched her shade!

Day 25—Friday,19^th July (Brunette Downs to Cape Crawford 230kms)

Breakfast to the bellowing of a lost calf but there were lots of others at the trough for a morning drink including a growly bull in very good nick.

On the road after breakfast, still the very narrow single lane strip but not as much traffic today, maybe we’re too early.

Very flat plains country again and some road kill with a difference, all cattle. Plenty of Kites, Eagles and Ravens but no other wildlife. We came across many narrow one lane bridges over floodways and quite high too which took care in crossing.

We stopped for a cuppa at a spot called Kiana Turn Off, whose major feature was and old wind mill spinning away in the breeze but without any connection to the bore. The wind mill made so much noise, we christened it “squeaky mill”. Later, when talking with other travellers, they had no doubt where or what “squeaky mill” was.

Squeaky Mill

The last part of the drive was uneventful except for a huge area which had been cut and baled into large rounds. This about thirty kilometers south of Cape Crawford. Then about twenty short, we rounded a bend to be greeted by a couple of kilometers of rocky escarpment, which we found out later was the edge of the plateau in which the “Lost City” is situated.

A relatively early arrival, 12.10pm, we checked in for two nights and were told to pick a site, which we did and got set up then had lunch. We then wandered up to the front of the camp to enquire about a flight over the “Lost City”. We were able to made a booking for 2.10pm with the pilot, a young girl who didn’t look old enough to drive a car, never mind a helicopter!

However, we had a great flight which, although we’d booked a twenty minute flight, lasted about thirty, with me hanging out the doorway. The area is astride the McArthur River and a couple of it’s tributaries and is in stark contrast to what we driven through to get here. Except for that last twenty kilometers. We flew over the old McArthur River Homestead, now deserted and desolate, due to a merger of two properties and a new Homestead being built. In the half hour flight, we saw only a half dozen or so cattle at a water hole.

The Lost City (or one of them!)

The country is very dry, no feed but plenty of scrubby trees which Helen thought were Kaypock. After this highlight, we had a lazy afternoon, watching the park fill up. It was one of those parks with no marked pitches, so everybody just parked to suit themselves, many not unhitching for a quick off in the morning. So another day passes, although Helen was up and about in the middle of the night, when a couple of bulls wandered through the camp, upsetting the local as well as visiting dogs.

No way out at Cape Crawford!

Day 26—Saturday,20^th July (Bing Bong on the Gulf of Carpentaria, 271kms bobtail)

We decided on a day trip to Borraloola and a look at the Gulf of Carpentaria.

On the way, we spent a couple of hours at the Caranbirini Conservation Reserve, another Lost City outcrop which has a marked trail in and around so that you can get up close to the so called pipe organs.

Another "Lost City" at Caranbirini

As a bonus, a very quiet billabong with a well built bird hide where we watched mainly Black Ducks and Green Pygmy Ducks but we also spotted a couple of Cormarants and a pair of Brolgas. This about 70kms east of Cape Crawford and well worth the drive. Of interest here, is that as soon as you pass the entrance to the McArthur River Mine, the road which untl then is single lane, becomes a double lane highway all the way to Borraloola and further to Bing Bong.

The Billabong at Caranbirini

Carrrying on, we arrived at Borraloola, a complete waste of fuel. The only excitement here was when a couple of black fellows wanted to play chicken with us and seemed most upset when I didn’t stop. We drove right back out of there and on the lovely double lane and after another 50kms, found Bing Bong, when the secret of the double lane was revealed.

Bing Bong is a loading point for the McArthur Mines zinc and lead concentrates in a small facility sheltered behind West Island. So we had a wander down to the waters edge so satisfy Helen’s need to “dip her toes” in the water. By now, lunch time was calling, we’d covered some 160kms and walked a couple of kilometers at the Conservation Park. No shade here and stinking hot and dusty so we wandered off down the double lane and soon found a shady spot to pull over, got the camp chairs out and enjoyed a cuppa and sandwich. Only one vehicle passed our picnic spot and the driver was so startled, he forgot to wave, which everyone does in these parts, well nearly everyone.

McArthur Mines Loading Dock

Dipping the toe in the Gulf

The drive back to camp was uneventful and when we arrived back we found access to our van blocked by the higgledy piggledy parking arrangements. Being important that we be close enough to plug the car fridge into power, we eventually managed to squeeze in between two overnighters (still hitched), giving them a surprise in the middle of their happy hour. After that, not much more to do but enjoy our own happy hour and have dinner.