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The previous report ended with me having visited a few of the sites around Boulia, it was getting on in the day as I now headed further south.
There are not to many roads that lead into or out of Boulia, but the one I took late that day was one that very few travellers take. I knew it existed but had a bit of trouble finding the start of it due to it mainly being used by a few locals and pastoralists further down the track, they knew where it was and so no need for any sign posts.
The first interesting thing I came across once I found it were these Waddi Trees, a type of Acacia. Extremely slow growing, and extremely rare it is found in only three locations on earth, here, a site near Birdsville and a site on the other side of the Simpson Desert in the N.T. It’s wood is thought to be one of the hardest in the world, it is resistant to termites and takes hundreds of years to grow to a reasonable size.
These trees have evolved over many hundreds of thousands of years to survive in one of the worlds harshest environments, one way it does that is to have needles instead of leaves, to minimise moisture loss to the sun.
Plenty to observe along the way, near this cattle grid I found two very very dry cow pats!! No cattle to be seen anywhere as they had been moved on or sold as there was absolutely nothing for them to eat.
Another 50 ks or so along the track I came across a very lonely Eucalypt, how it survived or came to be the only one, again had me puzzled, it looked healthy enough though.
In places along the track I would leave behind huge clouds of dust, you can see here after I had stopped and reversed a bit how soft conditions were.
I pushed on into this vast flat nothingness, eventually finding a road sign which just indicated how in the middle of nowhere I was!!
With not a lot of light left in the day, I found a likely camp spot!! sadly there were no natural silhouettes for the sunset that night.
It was so quite, peaceful and serene, just sitting there watching another day in the great outdoors come to a close.
Early the next morning, and then some old stock yards I came across along the track.
And then to my astonishment I came across a most amazing scene, “WATER” and heaps of it.
Maybe 10 metres back from this stream/spring on either side everything was dead and barren, yet this oasis had birds, butterflies insects in abundance. It was so amazing I spent quite some time strolling along its banks savouring this most beautiful spot surrounded by scenes of drought and desolation!!
The water which emanated from the Great Artesia Basin even flowed across the track.
On the other side of the track.
I wasn’t sure whether this was man made, or an over flow from a bore that was sunk a long time ago but finding evidence of Aboriginal activity made me think not, and it may have been a natural spring! Some of these stone fragments had obvious worked edges and didn’t seem to be of a locally found stone. It was wonderful to touch and think of their being used all those years ago.
When there was grass around those stones would not have been so easily seen.
Another thing that I remember thinking whilst at that spot, something I had been told by a stockman some years ago during another drought. He said to me that water is never a problem during a drought, as we stood next to a full dam. The problem is rain!! You can always get water from a bore but if there is no rain there is no grass or feed for the stock. Here was a case in point, plenty to drink but nothing to eat.
A couple of ks further on I stopped again to capture the extremes of where I was and where I had just been.
Looking back and then looking forward.
After another 50 ks or so I came across this absolutely incredible tree, standing alone, proud and healthy, and then further on more of the same, nothing!
At the Bedourie Windorah road I turned left and soon after crossed the Diamantina River channel, after that I entered sand dune country.
I then left the Diamantina Shire, I chuckled at the typically Aussie humour on the sign. Plus or minus means there were a few more possibly from what they thought but how can you have negative 6717 people, one thing I know, I had basically not seen another soul since leaving Cloncurry and only one other car on the road in all that distant travelled.
About 90 ks west of Windorah I stopped at a native well site, rocks had been placed around them to mark their location but with the drought killing off all the grass in the region they stood out easily. Apparently it is not just direct rain that fills them but general rain that seeps below a hardened crust in a number of spots in the region, the water sits just below the surface, the holes allowing access to it.
Here are two that were closet to the road.
A further 10 ks up the road I stopped at an historic site known as the JC Hotel Ruins. In the 1870s John Costello (brother in law of Patsy Durack) took up land here and a few years later built a hotel on it. It became so popular that in the early 1880s a township was surveyed around it by G. T. Weale, authorities would not allow the name of the new town to be called JC so it was named Canterbury although the pub was still called “The J.C”.
In the 1950s one particular station owner got sick of his stockmen being led astray by the demon drink and wasting all their money on grog so bought the hotel and surrounding land and closed it down. The roof was removed and soon the elements eroded the mud brick walls so all you see today are some posts, piles of dirt and chicken wire that were used to reinforce the walls.
With the size of their bottle piles they certainly liked a drink way out there, there were many still intact and some very very old.
Scattered about the site were the remains of a number of old cars, those more mechanically minded than me may be able to work out to what models they belonged, but I needed a bit more info to identify what they once were!!
I found the cemetery fascinating, the plaque is for the surveyor who originally laid out the town.
As I approached Windorah conditions didn’t improve, this was taken just beside the road not far from town.
The towns museum/info centre was really well presented, it covered the areas history going back thousands of years and the local Aboriginal lass who was on duty was so helpful, very proud of her heritage and it appeared they were doing so much to improve their lot in life.
An old hut/cottage in the grounds of the museum.
Although buildings like these were pretty spiff for their day, they would have been a bit breezy at times and I’m sure the bities wouldn’t have had any trouble getting in if they wished.
An old metal boat/punt that was made locally so supplies could be brought into town when the nearby Cooper’s Creek flooded and cut them off from the out side world.
In the main street of town is this “House”, once the Court House and then in the 1960s a storage shed for a truck transport company, it is now a private residence.
Leaving town I took a dirt track that doubles as a tourist drive, along it sign posts and numbered pegs mark spots that from a brochure you can read about a number of historical and other points of interest.
The story behind this first plants common name was one relevant to the current conditions I was in. It is extremely drought tolerant and it is said that if this plant succumbs to the conditions, it really is the end or finish of life as we know it!!! thankfully it still seemed healthy.
I saw the humour in this, although it appeared to not have survived the drought!
The track I was on made it’s way towards the main bridge across the Cooper’s Creek, after roughly 10 ks the Creek came into view.
This next shot shows in the distance the main bridge that most use when crossing the Creek, but not this little “chippie” just to the right in this pic is the old ford which I used, rough as guts but more fun!
Well thats it for this one, just one more to go before I finally reach home.
Col.
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The worst day above ground, is a whole lot better than the best one under it. Live life to the fullest while you can.
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Topic: The Outback, Remote Country. (Pt 9)
