Gascoyne 

This was a mighty trip for Hetty and Huberto! 350km north on dirt roads again (see Red Dust Galore blog under Vehicles).

We’d been past the Kennedy Ranges twice now, once getting there, once going to Mt Augustus and we’d spotted a picturesque overnight stop on the banks of the Lyons River, halfway to Mt Augustus.

This was to be the first pitch for this stretch.

Just past the Kennedy Ranges turnoff, we noticed lots of cow poo on the road, I mean, lots! Then, as we turned a corner, there they were. Hundreds of cows being driven along by horse and motorbike riders. The air was full of loud mooing.

Lyons River Station hands quickly checked in on us, apologising for the delay, it’d only take another 30-45 minutes to herd the cattle into the station pens – just up the hill and around another bend. But we didn’t mind – this is cattle country and we were seeing it working.

Finally, we sped on to our camp spot before dark settled.

Next morning, we set off again, new territory now, north towards Lyndon Station, Towera Station and up to a free camp on the North West Coastal Highway at Barradale.

As we crossed the cattle grid at the turnoff to the Lyndon Homestead, we noticed the blue painted tree that was mentioned on the Wool Wagon Pathway information pamphlet we had. A photo shoot!

Only to notice Hetty’s rear tyre was soft, indeed, softening and deflating before our very eyes until she was flat as a pancake. Not what we wanted in the middle of nowhere!

We recalled advice from our sand 4wd course (see earlier blog on Vehicles page), took a good glug of water and laid a plan of rescue.

As we worked on getting equipment out, a wee truck stopped and a Lizzy popped out to check on us. She assured us she’d stop again on her way back from the station pretty soon. By then, we’d got the jack out and I was under the car looking for the lifting position. Lizzy gave us a few tips, told us which UHF radio channel she and her colleagues were on if we needed help and set off.

“Team work is dream work,” a friend repeats frequently, and after an hour working together, we had the spare wheel on, the tyre pressures checked and were about to pack up when a larger truck stopped to see if we were ok.

How lovely that the only two vehicles we saw the whole day except for a third up close to the sealed road, stopped. Much like the rule of the sea, in the outback, you look out for fellow travellers. We’d like to thank both stations’ workers for their kindness and care.

It was a sigh of relief to reach the sealed road and only 5km to reach the Yannarie Rest Area. There was even phone signal to try and set up puncture repair appointment.

Then on, for another free camp and a pleasant stop at Robe River. We discovered there’s more to selecting sites than first meets the eye! Sun position- good, view onto river - excellent, shade for the fridge – reasonable, levelled out van – super, Corellas in gum tree above – fateful! And that is why there was lots of bird poo to clean off the solar when we finally reached Pannawonica.

Our trip to Carnarvon was all about food shopping and we intend to stay a day or two on our way back south. But we did want a few days along the coast and drove the 75km north to Quobba Blowholes camp area. No bookings, but you can pay on arrival by cash, by phone or online at the Carnarvon Visitor Centre website.

We were lucky to get a spot at this popular stop. Our site was protected from the sea winds by a small series of sand dunes. When we carried our chairs to the top, we could watch the sun set behind the vertical, spouting jets of sea water, forced through small channels in the rocks as the waves continually crashed into the land.

The wind increased the next day, so no sitting atop sand dunes and no vertical jets, simply huge sprays as the huge waves smashed against the rocks. No wonder there is a now Instagram famous sign stating “KING WAVES KILL.” You can see my cute photo under this sign on Instagram.

A second memorial for HMAS Sydney II in the form of a simple cairn, sitting on the rocks, with views to help you consider the magnitude of the loss, can be found just south of Quobba Station Homestead.

The drive into Gascoyne Junction from Murchison was ridgeback style, peppered with small bluffs on the sides, and there were grading works on the road. A final welcome back to tarmac for the last 20km or so made a relaxing arrival.

The town itself is small, laid out in a rectangle. It has the Upper Gascoyne Shire Offices with tourist information centre, library and museum in one section; the fuel station with café, shop, bar and caravan park in another; and the school overlooks the town oval and on to the ‘Pavilion’ where we learned local entertainment and events are held.

Everyone we spoke to was friendly and helpful, including the bush mechanic who looked at Huberto’s right wheel that had started making a grinding sound. Just a stone or some dust fortunately, and we now know how to help him if it happens again.

We had time here for a few more minor repairs to Huberto, some online, personal business and to get the laundry done. Sightseeing one day, we took the time to wander across the 2016-built bridge spanning the Gascoyne River and marvelled at the expanse of river bed and pools of water. Another afternoon, we sat by its banks sipping on a beer in the late afternoon, looking out for birdlife and any signs of fish.

The museum is a must! I was in awe at the colours of the stone and rock samples collected from Mooka. Mookaite is only found at Mooka Creek, just 40km out of town. The life form, silt and mineral deposits left here when once the ocean seabed have created ripples, patterns and deep, rich tones in the rock. Wishing we had time to get to Mooka, but our bookings further north meant we had to continue the next day, perhaps another time.

Finally, we farewelled Gascoyne Junction which we had used as a hub for our trips to the Kennedy Ranges, Mt Augustus (see previous blogs) and to Carnarvon’s supermarket and bottle shop. A good excuse for our short stay on the coast (see Quobba Blowholes Blog coming soon!).

Retracing footsteps, and then pushing beyond the Kennedy Ranges, we continued north, then turned east to Mt Augustus.

We left Huberto behind in Gascoyne Junction as the 650km round trip on dirt roads seemed a bit excessive after the minor repairs he required after the earlier trip to the ranges. Besides, we’d make better timing just Hetty and I.

The terrain morphed and changed in subtle ways as we sped along, noting the foliage and rocky soils change. Several creek crossings brought us to a pretty, riverside parking area just past the eastern turn off.

Now the road became jiggly, rough and bumpy. How often we exclaimed ‘Thank goodness Huberto’s not with us!’

Mountains seemed to loom out of the flat plains and bluffs along the sides of the roads. Which one was Mt Augustus – finally we knew which one, the massive one!

Suddenly, we were surprised by a 20km speed limit sign only to discover the Cobra Inn, now a private residence. This was a stop on the Kingsford Smith Mail Run between Meekathara and Carnarvon.

Kingsford Smith became famous for early flights including the first intrepid aerial crossing of the Pacific. But he must have learned determination in the 1920’s driving a truck across the clay pans, the dry sandy riverbeds and the rocky outcrops between Carnarvon, Meekathara and through here: the Bangemall Goldfields.

Another character to make it here was Bert Facey who wrote a famous memoir of ‘A Fortunate Life’ which I am currently reading. In 1909, he tried following a herd of stampeding cattle through a thunderstorm only to become lost. The local Wadjarri people found him, fed him and returned him to his fellow drovers.

Only 45km further along, we arrived at the base of the Mount. A track off the road led us to a vantage point and we awed at the scale of this, ‘The World’s Biggest Rock’ facing down on us.

We took a rest for lunch at the picturesque Cattle Pool before checking in at the Mt Augustus Tourist Park which is on and run by the Mt Augustus Station. We’d booked a twin room for the night and a twin room is exactly what we got, with ablutions and camp kitchen in the block next door.

That afternoon and the next day, we hiked the trails around the base of the rock. My wee legs were no match the 6 hour hike to the summit so we avoided that.

Historically, we were most impressed with the petroglyphs carved into some cliff faces by the Wadjarri ancestors. We pondered their meanings and wondered at their age.

Having built up an appetite we dug into a fabulous roast beef dinner at the restaurant and pub on the station that evening. The meat was divine, the station’s own shorthorn stock.

And so, we left only footprints but took away memories, photos and a frozen BBQ pack of meat. The Kennedy Ranges inspire through beauty but Mt Augustus inspires by scale and its geology.

Northwards from Gascoyne, the next section of road is so scenic.

First, we crossed the powerful Gascoyne River on the edge of town. A wide sandy riverbed spanned by a tall, single-track bridge. Imagining the river full of water is difficult, yet just ahead was a boat on the roof of a house indicating a flood level in 1980. Wow!

A little further along to the east are strange outcrops of rock, appearing like a series of big top tents with flat plateau tops. And then the Kennedy Ranges to the west dominate the skyline.

These were ‘discovered’ in 1858 by Frances Thomas Gregory who, in his report, stated that the best thing about the area was an absence of plants poisonous to stock herds that were prevalent elsewhere in the state.

And so, the pastoralists moved in. By the 1930’s overgrazing, drought and the Great Depression caused damage to the land that is still recovering today.

However, the Kennedy Ranges themselves have stood the testament of time despite slowly crumbling as rain, wind and water weave their merry dance.

Huge sections of the rockface, weakened by seams of dissoluble sediments are eventually too heavy to cling on. They crash and tumble down the steep scree slopes, smashing and cracking til they halt, gravity pulling them down into the softer earth or the cliff-face on the other side of the gorge blocks them.

This long-drawn out re-shaping of the landscape leaves us able to amaze at the coloured layers and shapes within the cliffs; to trek along the gorges to see evidence of waterfalls and pools, to clamber to the plateau and gaze over the terrain below.

If you are reasonably fit and enjoy a walk, this is a stunning National Park to stop at for a few days. The Park can be reached from Gascoyne Junction for a day trip, being only 60km away, but a stay at the campsite (no need to book ahead) gives you a chance to chat with other travellers and swap notes on destinations as you sit around the communal camp fire and watch the moon rise above Temple Gorge being where probably the best walks in our opinion are.

The photos on my Instagram account, do not give this magnificent place justice. As most people know, the human eye sees far more than the camera lens!