Day : 56, 57, 58

Location : Limmen National Park, Marra country, Cape Crawford, Binbinga country, Hells Gate, Nguburinji country

Kms travelled : 362, 300, we don’t know for sure, probably 400ish

We all enjoyed a little lie in this morning (including the baby – he likes to keep us on our toes with these sleeping patterns). Had brekky with the Carters (and used their toaster – what a luxury!) before waving goodbye and hitting the public library (so exciting). Kat finished applying for her job (7th year in a row, maybe one day it’ll be a bit more secure!) while Sam and Roly grabbed delicious coffees and pastries from the Black Russian Cafe. They arrived to Kat just as she was finishing her task and just as Rhyme Time had ended (sorry Roly, you just missed mingling with peeps your own age).

On the road we headed back through Mataranka and along the Savannah Way, which now became dirt and infrequently travelled. Kat, feeling a little off all day, diagnosed a bout of mastitis just as we hit the Limmen National Park (good thing the first aid kit had antibiotics!).

We stopped at the first campground in – Munbililla / Tomato Island. Very popular with fishermen (who don’t mind battling a croc for their catch) and therefore VERY plussed up for a NP campsite, we set up on the lush green grass near the free bbqs and huge amenities block with hot showers and flushing toilets. Kat, in a shivering sweat, lay on the grass, then in the tent, occasionally with the baby, while Sam did literally everything around the place, including make friends with a solo motorbike rider. Kiwi Steve was trekking a similar route to us, and the gents chatted and shared tips and apps into the night.

Come morning Kat was still useless so Sam did all the pack up too. We drove through the lovely little national park, only a NP since 2012, stopping at a few spots along the way. The unmanned Ranger Station had a nice information display, which we had a read of (very interesting section about disasters following disturbance of sacred aboriginal sites) and did the inevitable change&feed.

The turnoff to the rock formations known as the Lost Cities was nearby, but given they were a ways off the main road and Kat wasn’t up to the walking trail, we didn’t take the gate code from the ranger station whiteboard and head in. Known as Yalyalacomella to the local indigenous people, they are believed to represent the Rainbow Serpent and its eggs. You can take a scenic flight over them too. A spot to admire if we’re ever back this way, for sure.

We had a look at the Butterfly Falls campground which boasts the only safe swimming in the park. It had a nice but presently fairly stagnant pool, and would be really nice following a proper wet season.

With a grizzle baby who’d had enough of the car again or at least wanted to be entertained in his seat thanks very much we forced ourselves along to the Heartbreak Hotel at Cape Crawford before stopping for the night. Already fairly busy, we set up on a grassy spot in the shade, and were shortly surrounded by a family on a two car road trip with a P-plater daughter and a pair of racist poms in a van (I sincerely hope the term pom is not racist, as being a hypocrite is also distasteful).

Kat immediately retreated to the tent where she sweltered until emerging somewhat human and surely through the worst of it by dinner time. The boys did laps of the campground, read a book at the pub and intently watched the sunlight through a sprinkler spray. Roly was ejected from his first bar (the publican citing “in case a fight breaks out”). We later ate a pub meal and watched the AFL in the space next door (weirdly, the NT seems to get Ipswich TV stations).

The next morning, with Kat a fully functioning member of the family again (thank you modern medicine), we packed up and drove the 100km or so to the Aboriginal community of Borroloola where we stopped for brekky. After visiting no less than three places promising coffee to find them closed (actually quite impressive for such a small town) a local directed us to our last hope – where we achieved our goal of flat whites and EBRs. There was a young couple with two small girls there too (although not that small – their 3 month old was bigger than Roly!). We got chatting, they were locals (teachers), 4 years ago they ran out of money while travelling and decided to stay.

After a leisurely stop it was on the road again. Although we saw a few adventurous caravanners, it was pretty rough in parts, with a few creek crossings (some poorly signposted, requiring a sudden hit of the brakes after coming over a crest).

At our next roadside change&feed Roly had his obligatory daily bit of tummy time (he’s not a massive fan) and we watched a pilot with a death wish muster cattle in a helicopter.

Just shy of the point to turn further north to Burketown or continue south toward Mt Isa we hit a big washout hidden in shadows. We felt the car hit underneath and spring up again, immediately followed by 6 warning lights coming up on the dash. We got out to check – no obvious damage, but interestingly positioned low in access mode. We got back in and realised we’d lost the speedo (and the odo). Suspecting a disconnected or damaged wheel speed sensor, and with a car that drove essentially as normal, we pressed on, carefully.

Arriving at Hells Gate Roadhouse in the early afternoon, we spotted a well dressed group of ladies sitting on the grass, surrounded by tables and displays like a market. Turns out it was “Ladies Day” at Hells Gate, and amongst the group was Katie, one of Kat’s interns from Toowoomba!

We caught up a little, then left the ladies to the festivities while we set up camp. Sam checked over the car, and googled stuff, and looked under the car and googled some more, but those pesky warning lights and limp mode persisted. By the time we scrubbed up and got Roly off to the land of nod we too were exhausted, so cooked a quick dinner (we can’t eat at every characterful place we stop at, can we?) and hit the sack with a plan to call around about the car tomorrow and mulling over a possible change to our itinerary.

(Sam suggests changing the line to “there’s two things in this world that Kat hates – racists and poms”)

Day : 54 & 55

Location : Katherine, Jawoyn country

Kms travelled : 150 & 60ish

(Katherine in Katherine – been waiting to get this photo since I was a 5 year old obsessed with my own name)

We woke to a light dew on everything and a cool (for what we’re used to) morning. Headed up to the campfire for the morning Johnny Cakes and Puff De Lunes put on by the crew for a gold coin. It was pretty hard to distinguish between them, both sort of like a crumpet, the owners and a few blokes who’d stayed long enough to get put to work rolled from a huge bowl of dough and rested them on hot oil to cook. There was a crowd waiting, and soon enough a long line. Kat made friends with a kid in the line as they bonded over jokes about dying of hunger before getting to the front. Eventually we did get our breakfast, which was really quite delicious, and took a fresh baked loaf of bread for the road.

(photos : breakfast at little roper)

Packed up camp and visited the warm waters of Bitter Springs on the way north. Much the same as the Mataranka springs, but here you can walk 100m upstream and float down to the pools. We took just a quick dip (Roly not really feeling it this time) and got on the road.

(photos : bitter springs)

It was only 107km to Katherine, so even with our delayed departure we were setting up camp early. We stayed at Shady Lane, for good reviews on wiki camps and a little out of town. Certainly the nicest amenities so far, with a lovely open laundry (although the most expensive wash so far at $5/load or $6 if you wanted it hot). We had a leisurely afternoon – got some groceries, posted a little pressie to a special birthday girl and had a swim in the pool, before cooking tacos for dinner (something we can only do when the camp kitchen has a microwave to crisp the shells).

Woke the next morning and had a quick brekky before driving the 26 or so km further to Nitmiluk National Park for a cruise on Katherine Gorge. We’d booked the 3 gorge tour – in the dry the gorge separates into 13 separate pools, with the last only reachable by foot or in combination with a kayak. We grabbed a coffee at the small cafe (the visitors centre under renovations) and piled into a boat with 50 other sightseers. The young lads running the tour, Ned and Cassidy were quite knowledgeable, and had a laugh along the way. We changed boats between gorges, tethering one and walking over very well maintained paths despite their location to the next. Apparently in the wet they pack up some signs and railings, and when there’s just enough water take the boats back, they moor them at the start of the gorge system.

(photos : gorgeous gorge)

On the way back down the gorge we had the luxury of a stop for a swim in the second gorge. (they don’t recommend swimming in the first one for risk of salties, although there is a comprehensive program to catch and relocate them it’s not 100% guaranteed). Roly took a dip too, but having become accustomed to artesian waters, squarked that it was too cold after about 10 minutes.

(photos : gorge swims)

The tour lads were quiet for the trip back down, maybe to allow us silence to admire the scenery or maybe because they were a little sheepish having left the boat swap point without some of our party and having to turn back to get them. Spotted several crocs along the bank, and one brave heron who was getting a little close to one sunbaking reptile.

(photos : gorge critters)

We had lunch at the NP cafe and grabbed a few more things in town before coming back to camp where we met The Clambering Carters. These guys were hot, happy and dusty having just come from some amazing adventures on the Gove Peninsula. We shared some beers, some shade and some stories before cleaning up (proper showers for them, a jump in the pool for us lazy folk) and all sharing a Chinese feed in town at RJ’s Bar and Loong Fong Restaurant. All weary, we didn’t last too much past dinner before all hitting the hay.

Day : 51, 52, 53

Location : Duncan Road, Kija country, Victoria River, Wardaman country, Mataranka, Yangman country

Kms travelled : 502, 427, 364

We left Purnululu early and stopped at the roadside stop opposite the turn off to pump up the tires and for a change&feed. It was packed. A square of asphalt with a long drop and no shade isn’t exactly where we’d like to spend even one night, but it was certainly popular among the caravaners! We had a chat to a couple who were also driving a Land Rover (and loved it), then got what we needed to done and got outta there.

We headed South for the first time in a while, and stopped in Halls Creek at the visitors centre where there’s a little cafe. Chatted to an older couple missing their grandbabies, and the Grandma wasn’t backward in asking for a Roly cuddle. He turned on the charm, naturally. We’ve often provided a surrogate baby to coo over for travelling grandfolks, and realise we’re a little mean taking Roly away from his doting Granny, Grandma and Grandpa. (We’ll bring him for a visit soon, promise!)

We decided to take the gravel Duncan Road up the eastern border of Purnululu NP, for something different to the highway we’d come down on, and at the recommendation of the Destination Kimberley guidebook. It was 440km from Halls Creek to the highway again, so we let the tires down a little and prepared to bush camp the night.

The scenery was diverse and spectacular. Through cattle stations, aboriginal communities and across (dry) river beds, we spotted kangaroos, wallabies, brolga (or is it brolgas?) and some enormous and impressive eagles. We also spotted an indigenous bloke getting his bush mechanic on fixing a commodore roadside.

By early afternoon Roly had decided he had absolutely enough of the car and no amount of nappy changes, boob offerings, dummy, toys, chats or having Mum share the backseat would allow us to travel any further without a tantrum. Eventually he was crying and Kat was crying and Sam was bare knuckled driving 110 on dirt track as sunset approached (probably crying too) and we gave up trying to make it to our intended riverside free camp and stopped at the first small track off the road we saw. Out of the car the baby turned back to pink from purple and was wide eyed and adorable as we cooked our emergency easy meal of dehydrated spag bol and tucked into the tent to dingos howling and cows mooing (a common soundtrack of this trip).

The sun rose, as it always does, on a new day. After significant time playing on the blanket as we packed up camp and had a breakfast of peanut butter and honey sandwiches, Roly was ready to face his carseat once more. As it turned out, we were only 15min from our intended camp side on Negri River – it looked like a nice spot, with a little water flowing and some shade. Jot that one down for next time.

Duncan Road weaved across the WA/NT border a few times, so without fanfare the WA portion of our trip came to an end. We stopped where it met the highway, then doubled back 10km to Zebra Rock Mine for a stretch of the legs (with a snack).

Zebra Rock (I didn’t take any pictures, but you’d know it if you saw it) is a phenomenon unique to this part of NT, as we were told on a tour of sorts from the owner of the small gallery and campground. These guys hold the mining title for the area, and are vocal in a battle to preserve it in the ground (as opposed to digging it up to turn into jewellery and carvings). We admired some pieces, Kat swapped a book at the book exchange, and we enjoyed scones and a cup of tea in the garden.

Back on tarred road we covered good ground (but were a bit bored #dustorbust). Stopped in Timber Creek for lunch and a change&feed where Kat didn’t quite get shat on by a bird again but did cop the splatter from a nearby poo (#luckiestgirlintheworld). Pressed on to Victoria River where we stopped for the night at the Roadhouse.

Entirely staffed by backpackers, it did a suprisingly decent schnitty and had a little bar with cold beer. We watched a bit of news on the TV – it seems the world kept turning while we’ve been on the road or out of reception.

Again we sought out the dirt road. Leaving the highway we took the Gorrie Dry River road, through cattle stations and across the path of the Ghan! We stopped for a snack and a change&feed by the railway tracks, but no sign of the train. Probably a good thing because it would have been really loud from our vantage point!

(photo : almost the ghan)

We hit the Stuart Highway just south of Mataranka. On the recommendation of a bloke we met at Halls Creek we stopped for the night at the Little Roper Stock Camp.

(photo : little roper)

A characterful place, the owners met and married as teachers, not that you’d suspect it with the authenticity of the station. It’s a fantastic spot for kids, with cattle, horses, pigs, chooks, lizards, snakes and even sugar gliders to play with. We selected a nice shady spot, set up and went for a little drive. First into Mataranka town for a look and a cool drink, then to the Hot Springs. Situated kind of within the Mataranka Homestead we wandered the short boardwalk with all the other tourists (although we weren’t carrying pool noodles like the rest of them, the place must do a roaring trade). The springs have been amended from their natural state, with concrete sides and a few ladders, which made it easier, I suppose, for the hundreds of grey nomads we found taking the waters. Roly as usual was a celebrity in the water and quite enjoyed himself (we think). Despite being 34 degrees, and therefore the same temperature as the air, it was a refreshing dip.

(photos : Mataranka Hot Springs)

Back at camp we found the place had packed full with a ‘no vacancy’ sign (well, a 44 gallon drum) positioned at the entrance. We’d been surrounded on two sides by a young family in a camper trailer, but being such a family friendly kind of place the atmosphere wasn’t really affected. Took a stroll of the grounds, checked out the open air amenities, and moved up to the communal campfire for a chat and to cook our dinner. Sam remarked that a lot of the dads he spoke to seemed to lack any power in their own trips, relegated to driving or wrangling the dog, so Kat reminded him how good he has it in our present democracy (until there are more kids on the scene anyway).

(photos : more little roper)

Come 7pm the bell rang to signal sugar glider feeding time and kids came running from all corners of the camp. The cute critters carefully came out of their holes into the open cage, where dozens of kids pushed and squealed and held up tiny worms for them to eat. Kat used Roly as an excuse to get close to the cage, but was too frightened of the open warfare within to join in.

Our camp oven roast came up a treat. Poor Roly still a little confused by the change to NT time slept on the table while we ate. We didn’t make it back to the Homestead to check out the 9pm whip cracking show, recommended by literally everyone we’ve met who’s been there so far, but with this kind of advertising, we might have to come back sometime.

Day : 49 & 50

Location : Purnululu National Park, Kija & Jaru country

Kms travelled : 310 & 50 or so around the NP / 10ish by foot

With a few days off the grid ahead of us, we took advantage of the caravan park cafe for coffee and breakfast before picking up a few forgotten groceries and filling up with fuel. We’d heard about a self-serve place on the outskirts of town, and filled up there at 20c/L cheaper than any of the manned petrol stations. Just tap your card and select a pump, you don’t have to talk to another soul (which Kat loved). How the other places keep afloat with it around is a mystery.

We headed south on highway 1, which despite it’s important name, still had the occasional 80kph speed limit or one lane bridge. Stopped at the well stocked Warmun Roadhouse for a snack and a change&feed, where Kat selected a nice shady spot and promptly got shat on by a bird, narrowly missing the baby’s face buried in her bosom! That’s good luck for the rest of the trip right?

Just 259km from Kununurra is the turnoff to Purnululu or the Bungle Bungles. The road quickly becomes dirt – windy, rocky, corregated and undulating. Definitely worse than the Gibb, but not quite Mitchell Plateau bad. The few creek crossings were dry, but the fields of spinifex and towering sandstone mass before us were no less impressive. We had expected individual blobs of rock, but perhaps they’re from another viewpoint.

(photos : Purnululu road)

We checked out the visitors centre for a map, then set up camp at the enormous Kurrajong campground we’d booked online earlier. Cooked some cheese and tomato toasties and read our books while the other attempted (unsuccessfully) to convince the baby to nap. Come 4:30pm we gave up and hopped in the car to Kungkalanayi lookout to watch the earth turn away from the part of the sky that the sun is in. We were rewarded with a deliriously giggling baby and glorious 360 degree views across the landscape. Much like at Uluru, watching the sun set over the rocky range gave a delightful show of changing colours.

(photos : sunset and spinifex)

The next morning we set about seeing the park by foot. We decided on a long walk in the morning, beginning at Echidna Chasm. A 2km return walk through dry river bed (hard going!) and over boulders led into a narrow and steep chasm, with a cool shady centre lined with palm trees. The final part of the walk was up two ladders to a rounded end in the red rock. This spot was apparently named for the spiked appearance light makes in the chasm, but I’m not sure we could appreciate this phenomenon.

(photos : Echidna Chasm)

Like the gorges of Windjana, these were formed 360 million years ago from the sea bed. Here a mix of sand and formed rock were compacted under significant pressure, foming layers of sandstone conglomerate. The characteristic orange and black striped rock of Purnululu comes from the presence (or absence) of cyanobacteria in these layers.

After a change&feed back at the car, we continued along the Escarpment Trail. Like the walks around Uluru or Kata Tjuta, this path led around the rocky mass, revealing cracks and caves, many of which were off limits and held special significance to the local indigenous people. We remarked upon evidence of car tracks up to some of these secret places, I guess that’s how the modern tribe travels?

(photos : escarpment)

We turned off the Escarpment track after 2.6km to Mini Palms. A 2.2km return into this gorge made us trek a river bed (again) and climb over boulders (again) and also required negotiating some narrow paths with a sharp but short drop beside and some tight squeezes through cracks and fallen rocks. There was bloody evidence of someone having stumbled on the path, although no victim we could find, so we assume they got out OK.

A well constructed series of ladders and platforms at the end allowed us beautiful views of the palms in the gorge floor and of a ‘amphitheatre of mystery’ (as the guidebook proclaimed). We took a break at the end for a drink and a snack before making the trip back out to the main path.We debated at this point whether to split and send Sam back for the car while Kat and Roly walked the final 1km to the Bloodwoods carpark, but in the end decided to all walk together back along the Escarpment.

(photos: mini palms)

From there we drove back to camp with a snoozy baby (like any of this caused him physical exertion) for a rest and lunch.

In the afternoon we headed to the Southern Bungles – now here were the beehives we’d been promised! We took a few short walks through The Domes and to The Cathedral. Roly had practised his singing all the way there, then got shy when we approached the echoey dome. We could hear planes fly overhead, and remarked that while spectacular, it would be hard to appreciate the scale of what was below without having walked through it.

(photos : walk amongst the domes & cathedral)

We drove through the smaller campground to the south for a sticky beak and headed back to camp as the sun was setting. We slept easy after a busy day and with no real plan for tomorrow.

Day : 47 & 48

Location : Kununurra, Miriwoong country

Kms travelled : 133 & just a few around town

Had our first real bad night with a grizzle baby (sorry fellow campers) so woke (for the 400th time) bleary eyed and threw money at the problem by way of coffee and breakfast at the cafe. Then tackled the issue of pack up and got on the road.

We didn’t drive for long, stopping at Emma Gorge some 27km later for the last of our El Questro hikes. At 3.2km return, with lots of bouldering, we were surprised to see it so busy, and with older people and tours. It was an estimated 1hr one way but we powered it out in 30min. Passing Turquoise Pool we took a swim at the amazing Emma Falls, reminiscent of the gorges of Kakadu. Interestingly, a small thermal spring flows from one side of the pool, giving the water a marked temperature gradient as you swim across.

(photos : Emma Gorge)

Back on the road, and tarmac this time, we were in Kununurra by lunch time. Sam picked up some new brake pads for the car while Kat had a chat by phone about a future Broome job and we set up camp at the Kimberleyland Waterfront Holiday Park. Kat occupied the baby (after his few successful attempts he seems to be bored with rolling) while Sam expertly fitted the new brake pads and took a test drive (they work perfectly, just add ameteur mechanic to his list of credentials) and we took amazing hot showers.

Exhausted, we went in search of an early dinner. Turned away from both PumpHouse and Kelly’s Bistro for not having a booking (on a Tuesday, seriously?!) we resorted to the cold brick surrounds of Gulliver’s Tavern. A cold beer and a decent steak and parmi later we felt rejuvenated. With a baby being super cute having hit the delirious phase of fatigue we made our exit and retired to the tent. (But not before Kat tripped on a stray tent rope at camp and landed flat on her belly, scoring a rope burn to the foot. Fortunately no-one saw).

We were excited to join in on the all you can eat pancakes for $5 the next morning. Sharing a table with a couple from the Sunshine Coast who had a complaint about most things and a nicer, slightly younger pair from Perth, we only managed 3 each before the sugar coma hit.

(photo : all you can eat pancakes and a sleeping baby = bliss)

Kat finally found a book exchange worthy of a swap at the campground reception and we set about regrouping and refilling. Stocked up with groceries, dropped some baby clothes at the op shop (stop growing Roly!) and gave the disco a wash. Back at camp we assumed stereotyped gender roles with Sam pottering on the car and Kat pottering with domestic tasks. Roly, perhaps also complying with gender stereotypes, preferred to be with Dad at the car than with Mum at the laundry. Even a cuddle from a kindly old lady couldn’t keep him quiet while the nappies were scrubbed.

We watched a lovely sunset over the lake, and said hello to the resident toothless freshie living in it, then took our chairs up to reception to watch the State of Origin on the big screen.

(photo : sunset and big screen set up)

Surrounded by a mix of Blue and Maroon, we realised that being ‘state of origin’ we had birthed a Qld supporter, and shuddered. At least he was wearing a blue jumper.

At half time we put the baby to bed and cooked dinner, catching a peek now and then at the TV in the camp kitchen for the game’s progress, before curling up in the tent disappointed.

Day : 44, 45, 46

Location : Ellenbrae Station, Ngarinyin country & El Questro Wilderness Park, Miriwoong country

Kms travelled : 414, 189, 6 on foot and just a few around the station

Back on the GRR!

Our departure was delayed a little by some chats with the convoy of three grey nomad couples camped behind us and then with Dave and Bridie the Melbourne family – you really meet some nice people on the road, and it got us thinking about people we could travel in convoy with!

Filled up with fuel in Kalumburu (new record most expensive – $2.68/L!) where being the Saturday leading into a public holiday weekend the little town was pretty busy. Heard a knocking in the car as we drove and were glad we pulled over and checked it out before we hit the road again because it turned out it was a loose brake cable repeatedly hitting the wheel as it rotated and could be wearing itself thin in the process!With that secured we headed back towards the Gibb. Exciting moments of the drive south included an enormous flock of cockatoos in flight, and a tree felled by fire taking up half the road (definitely not there when we did the drive up).Our timing was perfect, as we arrived at Drysdale Station at lunch time and treated ourselves to their famous burgers in the lovely green beer garden. Felt it was a little soon to stop, so we pressed on, getting caught behind several caravans that used the whole road and made it tough for us to overtake! This end of the Gibb was definitely more couregated than the Derby end, and we wanted to be coasting above those bumpy bits!

Stopped for the day at Ellenbrae Station. Perhaps one of the less well frequented stations on the trail owing to its proximity to the more well known spots, we found it extremely welcoming. They are famous for their scones served all day every day, so naturally we had to try those out. Roly enjoyed a flap about on the grass while Sam rough housed with the homestead doggo Evie. Roly then charmed the homestead crew while Kat tried on some local merchandise, then met station baby Cody while Dads had a yarn. Ellenbrae has a family of three (and one on the way) living there full time (even in the wet) maintaining the place and running the tourism side. At the moment it looked like they had both sets of grandparents helping out too. They also run 4000 head of wild cattle, mustering when the price is right. We wondered how this worked (and how they maintained numbers) but forgot to ask. We did read that they served over 17,000 scones in 2018 though. Epic.Set up in their Ringers Campground and got to know a few other travellers, including a young couple taking a year for a lap while the girl continued her FIFO work, a family of six who applauded our travels with a baby having done the same themselves in the past, and some impending grey nomads on a trial run in their new van pre-retirement. Took a hot shower in the open air amenties (probably our new favourites!). Reheated some leftovers for dinner after doing a few laps of the Campground rocking the baby off to sleep.In the morning we packed up at just the right time to get scones again as we headed onward. WikiCamps had us in the know where to find the first phone reception on the Gibb – a lookout over the Cockburn Ranges just a few Kms out from Home Valley Station – so we stopped and let a happy few notifications roll in.(photos : Cockburn Ranges lookout and hub of telstra reception)

We stupidly hadn’t expected to be out of range for so long (but it was kinda liberating)! We made the stop at Home Valley Station and enjoyed a barista coffee overlooking the pool area.(photo : home valley)

It was a bit too civilised for us, and only two of their 6 gorge walks were open, so we moved on to El Questro.The famous Gibb photo is that of crossing the Pentecost River with the mountains in the background. Sadly for us, the river crossing was more like driving through a puddle. It really was a dry wet season.(photo : can we call this a Pentecost crossing?)

At first we had regrets as we arrived and were overwhelmed by vehicles and a line to check in! A line! A formal check in! All of this had become a bit foreign. While Kat lined up Sam and Roly checked out the shop, and Roly helped manager Marg serve customers for a little while.(photo : Roly’s first job)

While a private campsite was tempting, we chose the cheaper campground option, and set up in the shady grounds. The campground and the first few private sites abut the Pentecost River and are OK for swimming, and there’s a little pool dammed off by the restaurant. How they keep the salties out we don’t know. With a load of nappies hung on a makeshift clothesline we took off on a 4WD adventure for a sunset view. The track to Branko’s lookout was fairly rugged and had quite a long but shallow river crossing. It made Kat nervous, Sam enamoured with the disco’s performance and rocked Roly to sleep. At the top we admired the view of the river, and the 3-4m saltie cruising in it.(photos : Branko views, spot the croc!)

With sunset still a while away we headed to Saddleback Ridge for a 360 degree view of the station as the sun set. Less rocky, but more steep and windy, Sam enjoyed employing some 4WD skills, and telling Kat all about it. Kat kept a firm grip on the handle above her head and the dashboard. We had the lookout to ourselves (bar a strange pair who left before sunset) and took advantage of the extra good phone reception to video call our folks.(photos : sunset over El Questro)

We’d booked at the Stokehouse Restaurant for dinner, and with Roly having had a 5pm nap in the car, we had a quiet happy baby who sat in his chair and charmed the ladies at the table behind us while we ate. We enjoyed a steak and some barra (because that’s what you do at a cattle station that’s an epic barra fishing spot) and dessert because we had a quiet baby who allowed it.

After a windy night we woke to a cool morning (we’re soft so probs like 20 degrees) and decided to get in early to Zebedee Springs. But not so early that we couldn’t get coffee and egg and bacon wraps from the cafe. Zebedee Springs is a set of thermal pools running from 28 to 32 degrees and just a short drive from the station homestead. They open it only between 7am and 12pm because it’s so popular it risks being ruined by too much traffic. We arrived at 7:40am to a near packed car park and people scattered the length of the springs l. Found ourself a little pool and all three enjoyed a warm dip.(photo : Zebedee Springs)

After a little time at camp we headed to EL Questro Gorge. A deep water crossing is required about 1km before the walk. We’d been told it was around 600mm at its deepest, and the girl at the info desk had said without a snorkel to forget about it. We considered just having a look at it, but then saw a drowned hire Pajero get towed back to the station and thought better of it. So we parked just by the crossing (along with a few other snorkel-less vehicles) and bush-bashed our way around by foot. It was pretty swampy, but there was a slight trail, telling us it had been done before. From there we walked up the road to the start of the gorge walk, adding a little distance to the trek. The gorge walk was nice and shady, and with a few boulders and pools. We stopped at Halfway Pool for a swim, and watched as some unencumbered folk waded the length of the pool with backpacks above their heads, then clambered up and over a boulder to compete the walk to the falls at the end. Having seen it done we thought it a bit much with a baby.

(photos : El Questro gorge and halfway pool)

We later heard that the rest of the walk was vastly more difficult than the bit we completed, and that an older gent had fallen and broken his leg at the end. When the bloke at the bar told us this during happy hour a rescue effort was still under way. And he didn’t think the falls were worth the effort.We chatted to some fellow campers around the place in the afternoon, and had a happy hour drink at the bar. Cooked up a curry for dinner and settled in for our last night on the Gibb River Road.

Day : 42 & 43

Location : McGowan’s Campground, Kalumburu, Kuini country

Kms travelled : 170 & 50ish

Still sidetracked from the Gibb!

We made our departure from the Mitchell Falls campground this morning, and as per usual the road out didn’t seem as long as the one in, although if you timed it it still took 2hrs. It was somehow rougher than Kat remembered too. At the turnoff point on Gibb River – Kalumburu Road we stopped for a change&feed and a coffee, before heading further north to the remote community of Kalumburu and the north coast. The road was better than that to Mitchell Falls, much like the rest of the Gibb so far, although with some sneaky washouts and rocky patches.

The 104km took another 2hrs, and we arrived in Kalumburu near on 12pm – just when everything shuts down for lunch. We did manage to pop into the store (extremely well stocked!) for some fruit and veg and our tourist permit ($50/car). Outside the store Sam had a chat to a budding artist and Kat and another mum swapped admiring looks at each other’s babies (the other just a wee little one at 1 month old).

(photo : Kalumburu)

Headed north still where the road got a little rockier to the turn off to two campgrounds – McGowans and Honeymoon Bay. Both advertising beachside camping and WiFi, we chose McGowans based on the advice from a couple at Mornington that it had less sandflies and drinking water. Matt the camp host greeted us and showed us around with no obligation to stay, offering the option of a look at Honeymoon Bay before deciding. We set up camp in a prime spot with lots of shade and beach views (although at a safe distance from crocs – there’s definitely salties here, and swimming is discouraged). Took advantage of the WiFi to let the family know we were OK (and post a pic on instagram, naturally) and did some washing. Sam clambered over the rocks in search of the enormous oysters Matt told us were nearby, but came back empty handed (although at least not having been nibbled by a croc in his search).

(photos : McGowans and another ripper sunset)

Sam got a fire going and invited the family camped next to us (in a new model OzTent!) to share it. We chatted to the adults (neuroscientists from Melbourne) while their kidlets collected coconut husks, chased the camp chooks, and ate their dinner quietly watching a movie on the ipad.

We woke the next morning and decided it was so nice we’d stay another night at McGowan’s. After a leisurely breakfast we headed into Kalumburu for a proper look around. First stop was the Mission Museum. A Spanish Catholic mission was initially established in 1908 at Pagu just 20km north, but due to lack of water eventually moved to Kalumburu where the river could be accessed. Kalumburu accordingly has a long history, including of being bombed during WWII. Mavis, a local Pagu lady with a nervous laugh showed us around the odd collection of artifacts from the catholic mission, WWII, and trinkets collected from around the world. Roly, naturally, decided the museum was a good place for second breakfast. The attached Mission Shop had far less than the main store, and some judgy ladies working the counter, but boasted the treat of a homecooked meal.

We had a look at the Art Gallery next, and met Joshua, the artist from a few days back hard at work. Decided a piece would be a nice souvenir, and as a stretched canvas wouldn’t fit in the car, selected a work on paper – by Joshua! – to take home. The piece depicts gwion, or ancient human figures, a style unique to the Kimberley.

(photos : Kalumburu art centre and a pic with the artist)

We decided to pass camp and check out Honeymoon Bay next. A beautiful sandy beach begging to be swum in (but you can’t because of crocs!) and a sprawling campground with rustic amenities. Run by a family with 3 kids under 5, all very friendly, we each had a scoop of neopolitan in a cone and a walk along the water.

Back at McGowan’s we noticed a few interesting little things that reminded us of how remote we were, like the information sign updating campers on the weather and tides also states that the next barge delivery was June 10th so anything missing from the store in town wouldn’t be restocked until then. And the the truck tire on a chain that guests are asked to occasionally tow to the barge drop off to grade the road to camp. Sam went oyster hunting again and came back with a haul of the big meaty molluscs that Kat thoroughly enjoyed. Unfortunately his fishing attempt was not as successful, although the lady next door caught a bream within 15min (she also showed us a pic of a 1.5m barra she caught on a charter from Home Valley Station, so clearly she’s got a knack for it).

We walked down the beach to the spot near the rocks where the Lemon Sharks wait for fish scraps, and watched three of them nearly beach themselves trying to get a nibble.

(photos : Honeymoon Bay, oyster haul and watching the lemon sharks)

Cooked a casserole in the camp oven that night and listened to a guitar jam sesh at the camp behind us between two blokes, over 40 and 60yrs old and not your typical travellers to have brought a guitar!

Day : 41

Location : Mitchell Falls National Park, Wunambal Gaambera country

Kms travelled : 8.6 by foot only

We were on the trail to Mitchell Falls by 7:30am, after lathering the baby in (baby-friendly) sunscreen and saying goodbye to Doug. The first bit of the track we were familiar with from our visit to Little Mertens Falls, and was quite rocky. After 20 minutes it evened out onto your standard bush track, and we understood how we’d seen so many old people do it.

The trail wound over rocks and past pools and was only scantily signposted in some parts. We spotted an olive python leaving the path as we wandered past but hardly saw another walker in the beginning having left so early. The flies were up to keep us company though, one flying up Kat’s nose and coming out in a coughing fit and a ball of spit – a very unpleasant journey for both fly and Kat’s nasopharynx.

We reached the top of the falls in just over an hour, and took a detour from the track to peer over. The spectacular pools below are forbidden from swimming, as the local aboriginal people state they are inhabited by evil spirits. We took a dip just upstream of the falls, and had the place to ourselves.

We saw a few fellow early birds making their way along the track while we cooled off, then followed to the end of the trail. Coming over a hill, we were met with a view of clear water, red rocks and the helicopter landing pad.

We scrambled to the viewpoint of the falls and were rewarded with a stunning view of all four tiers running.

Coming back to the pools, we caught the landing of a chopper and the disembarking of a group who could only have come from a cruise ship. Clad in crisp white button up shirts and clutching cans of sparking water we named them the ‘Schweppes wankers’, standing out like sore thumbs amongst those of us who worked (or is it walked) for our reward.

Took a second dip in the cool water (even Roly!) and watched some youths catch and release fish from the same pools then tackled the hike back out the same route. By now it was lunchtime and the heat of the day we wished we’d taken the option of a chopper taxi back to camp.

Not much happened that afternoon. We hydrated and read our books and pottered around camp, feeling content with our day’s adventure.

Day : 39 & 40

Location : Gibb River Station, Ngarinyin country & Mitchell Falls National Park , Wunambal Gaambera country

Kms travelled : 195 & 286

The Gibb River Road continues (with a detour).

We were sad to say goodbye to Mornington Wilderness Sanctuary after our two nights (there was no availability to extend), but not to the mosquitoes that had plagued our stay. Had to stop midway back to the Gibb for a dusty change&feed, and as such had to overtake a very old left hand drive cattle truck twice. We considered our options for the night on the drive.

Charnley River Station is also run by the Australian Wildlife Conservancy and by all accounts a nice grassy spot to camp with scenic gorge walks surrounding, but given it was only 45km down the road once back on the Gibb we decided to press on. Our first stop therefore was at Over The Range Tyre and Mechanical. Not because we had anything wrong, but just to meet the famous Nev. Having intended on a lap of Australia from home in Fremantle in 1995, Nev fell in love with the Kimberley and has worked in mechanics in the region since. He set up his own shop mid Gibb in 2013 and by the looks of it does a roaring trade. We used the baby needing some time out of the car as an excuse to say hello. Nev clearly loves the place, with a photo book for sale of his photos of the Kimberley in the wet (all sold out unfortunately, but we had a stickybeak at the demo copy). He got some smiles out of Roly and told us about his 4yo daughter who had just started kindy at the Mt Barnett school where his partner was training to be a teacher. Definitely a guy who would get you out of trouble if you needed, and with a smile.

(photos : the home of remote mechanical salvation)

Stopped just down the road at Galvans Gorge. With a roadside carpark and a 1km walk in, its the most accessible gorge on the Gibb. We didn’t take a swim, but a few other visitors jumped off the low tree branches and rocks into the pool. The rope swing nearly had Sam tempted, but looked like it was past its heyday. The wildlife viewing was excellent, with frogs, a little freshie trying to look tough baring it’s teeth, and birdlife abundant.

(photos : Galvans)

Mt Barnett Roadhouse was only another 13 or so Kms down the road, but we stopped for fuel, lunch and a flap about for Roly. Ran into the young couple and their 15mo daughter we’d seen at Galvans Gorge, their little one thoroughly enjoying her first taste of ice-cream. Sam had a chat to two middle aged blokes riding the Gibb on motorbikes (and probably lamented his journey encumbered by car, wife and child).

We had thought of stopping at Mt Elizabeth Station for the night, but given it was still a bit early to stop we kept going to Gibb River Station where the ‘Destination Kimberley’ guidebook recommended having a cup of tea with Clyde and Linette. We pulled up to a very rustic but well stocked shop in the Ngallagunda aboriginal community, with Clyde himself at the desk having a yarn on the phone. We had the place to ourselves initially, so set up and got the fire going with a soundtrack of mooing from nearby cows (and one groaning as though calving) and the company of two resident camp doggos.

photos : playtime)

As 5pm neared, more campers came to join us (some parked a little closer than absolutely necessary), and one checked into the nearby rooms (bed, TV, simple), so come dinner time there were 11 of us set up. Everyone kept to themselves despite us doing the rounds (again, a baby is the best icebreaker) and offering a spot around our fire.

(photo : Kat enjoys some rare time not accompanied by one Crawley boy or another as the earth turns away from the part of the sky that the sun is in, photo cred for the great tree shot to Sam)

We were joined around the fire by two camp doggos and one fellow camper as we cooked pizzas in the camp oven (worked a treat). Nick worked as a providorer – supplying remote stations with the groceries etc that we travellers then buy. He was doing his semi-regular down and back on the Gibb, and was scoping out if Clyde might become a customer. He said his goodnights before the damper was done, so we kept it for breakfast.

(photos : camp doggos)

It was a cool night, and we slept to the sounds of cattle mooing and dingos howling. Come morning we packed up and nibbled at the damper around a cooling fire, then hit the road just as some even earlier birds were pulling up to stay the night.

Not far along we spotted a figure in the middle of the road. A motorbike? A pushbike? Nope, a scooter. The young French woman propelling herself along with one leg. Probably the most random thing we’ve seen so far, and definitely the least efficient way to cross the Gibb. This lass had been scooting since France, across Asia, now planning to loop Australia. We filled up her water bottles and wished her well.

The road to Drysdale Station and Mitchell Falls looked to be a turn off on the map, but felt like the continuation of the main track. We wondered how many travellers found themselves accidentally there? Drysdale Station is 60km in from the Gibb, offering camping, a bar and restaurant (good burgers apparently, maybe a given when you’re eating at a working cattle station), scenic flights and a spot to leave a caravan if you’re continuing on the rough road north. We purchased our Uunpuu Visitors Pass, allowing us onto Aboriginal Land for 5 days and got a few litres of the most expensive diesel yet ($2.15/L) just so we’d be leaving with a full tank.

As promised, the road was pretty rough going. Plenty of couregations (good thing the baby doesn’t mind them), washouts and big old rocks. We hit out first creek crossing of the trip just past the Mitchell Falls turn off. The map from Drysdale pointed out two aboriginal art sites – we skipped the first as it depicted demons that take the souls of babies that cry in the night, but took a stroll through the second with amazing views. We were the only ones there, and the hot wind rustling the spinifex gave it a very special feel. Sap from the blood wood trees had been whipped by the wind into a merlot coloured fairy floss, covering rocks and the ground. Roly announced our presence to the spirits as we walked.

(photos : the drive to Mitchell Plateau, and the car on arrival to camp)

The Mitchell River National Park campground was about half full, with people largely in groups. We spotted another Oz Tent, and felt it necessary to introduced ourselves. The bloke who owned it wasn’t real chatty, but did say it was an original too, in great condition because it had been in storage and rarely used in three decades. We examined the helicopter flights situation from the station in the campground, but at $160 for 6 minutes we decided against it. The girl at the desk was extremely helpful in directing us to a nearby swimming hole though.

10min down the Mitchell Falls trail was a slight track down to the left, where a trail lead to a pool and some impressive rock art at the base of the Little Mertens Falls. All three of us had a cooling dip and kept the route in mind for a possible swim the next day. Had a chat to the only other person enjoying the pool – Doug a bus driver from Brissy, who drives a route Kat has almost certainly ridden before and cleverly takes his leave at half pay to double his time to take adventures around Aus.

(photos : Little Mertens from below and above)

By the time we left the pool to a team of extremely croc cautious grey nomads we’d invited Doug to share a campfire that night where we had a fairly philosophical chat until a suitable bed time.

Achievement Unlocked :

Birkenstock tan