One has to run almost 300 klms north to the top of the Gulf before starting to go west. It was a much easier 400klm day than yesterday's dash.Went out through Adelaide's awful northern industrial wasteland-an aspect little known to the festival ravers of North Adelaide, but all too well remembered by me as I drove that way everyday in 2002 when working with the Michell company in Stirling.
Things start to pick up as one approaches Port Augusta(gateway to the outback)The foothills of the southern Flinders ranges march along beside the road and an accompanying trans continental freight train(or was it going to Darwin) with double decked shipping containers,made a fine contrast with the iron red cordillera alongside the tracks.
I had driven this road before on my way to Wilpena Pound in early 1999 under much less happy circumstances. It was 40c and as I had recently split with my wife,there were a few fractious phone calls along the way to settle the division of our assets.
Port Augusta hadn't changed much-one was immediately aware of an aboriginal presence such as one never encounters in Melbourne. Women and children were at most city centre street corners and extended family groups gathered under parkland trees. much as they do in Broome. It was cooler than last time but plagued with bush flies-one even accompanied me into the bank.
At a Coles supermarket I stocked up on unmentionably unhealthy canned food in case of emergencies in foodless locations.
The road west to Iron Knob was much more dramatic, with sweeping plains carpeted with salt bush which rucked up against iron stone outcrops. Iron Knob(Pop 200)was where BHP started the Australian steel industry and mine tours are still available
It was a ghost town on this Friday afternoon and in the deserted pub I only got service when a crawliing child howled for her parents (so much for my Santa Clause look) In conversation with the publican I gathered that the bowling and tennis clubs were the social hubs of the town and only available to those born there.Tourists and blow-ins not welcome.I asked him what he did, as well as running the far from busy pub. In response to which he sighed and said that keeping his cars going kept him flat out. Much Holden technical talk ensued, sufficient to glaze my eyes over. I looked at his worn-out wife, who had made me a toasted sandwich and who seemed to be doing all the bar restocking, said cheerio to the wild and unkempt child and left.
The road west is good and rolls up and down hills that afford great views across the barren bush.Cars and trucks coming east were never at less than half hour intervals and only one overtook me in 100+ Klms.
I had been advised to stop in Kimba(which claims to be the cross roads of Australia) and as road fatigue was setting in I gave up pushing on for three hours more to reach Ceduna.Dodging kangaroos at dusk is no fun and it's then the intimidating road trains come out to play in great numbers.
The smart town pub served excellent salt and pepper squid and I even entered the Lions club meat tray raffle-would have been pretty high steak by Perth if I had won.
The campsite ground was too hard for the swag's pegs and I had to pull up two wheelie bins to secure both ends, on a dusty dry windy night.Not had much rain here in a while.
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