It’s funny how the chance sighting of a couple of words on a 
map can change ones travel plans. We were headed for the well-known Flinders Ranges National Park in South Australia when up from the map sprung the words - “Loch Ness”. Being from Inverness and well acquainted with the real Loch Ness, the urge to explore the Australian version was irresistible so off we detoured to the Vulkathunha-Gammon Ranges – “the last cluster of ancient mountains before the vast plains of central Australia where few travellers venture”
After the excitement of water skiing on mud towing a Toyota up the Oodnadatta Track the car, not to mention ourselves, were in a bit of a
muddy mess and we decided to stay at the Farina homestead for a few days to get cleaned up and for Sandra to do more crafting. The thick, clay-like mud was several inches thick on the underside of the car and was setting hard. I spent a happy day with a knife and axe hacking at the mud whilst trying to ensure I didn’t chop through anything vital – like break pipes, electrics etc.
Farina, now just ruins, was once a thriving town built, as the name suggests, to be the centre of a developing wheat industry which unfortunately never got off the ground. In its day it was quite a place with two hotels, the Exchange and Intercontinental, shops, a post office, school, hospital, bakery (undergro
und, restored and still looks as it could be operational) It even had its own “house of ill repute” called The Angle’s Rest, which I suspect may have been a spelling mistake for The Angel’s Rest (see photo) Australian spelling of that era was a bit hit and miss. The township is slowly being renovated by the sheep farmer whose land it is on and an enthusiastic band of conservation volunteers who periodically brave heat and flies to restore a little bit of Australian heritage. However there is still someway to go before the hotel bathroom is fit for purpose although, as can be seen from the photo, this doesn’t deter the odd vagrant from making use of the facilities!
Our campsite was very pleasant and, as we were staying for a few days, we set up a full camp including Sandra’s “studio” tent where she crafted away for a couple of days whilst avoiding the flies – then back onto the road heading south for the Flinders. Through the small town of Lyndhurst then on to Leigh Creek for a meal stop, a look at the map, the discovery of the Antipodean version of Loch Ness necessitating a route change from South to East.
Quite a reasonable dirt road took us the 60k or so into the Vulkathunha-Gammon Ranges with the only incident of note being when we spotted a black mass moving slowly across the
road - going too fast to stop safely I ploughed on through it then stopped. Speaking to an opal miner in Coober Pedy he referred to the problems of the rain, the first being that it wasn’t possible to mine opals in the rain and, secondly, the rain brought “the plagues”. The first of these plagues was the flies, the second was the mosquitoes and the third, which I had just ploughed through, was locusts. The road, and either side of the road, was covered with hundreds of thousand hopping locusts as can be seen in the photo. I didn’t feel so bad about wiping out a few hundred of these when I later heard these are pests and were part of an eradication programme.
The road to Loch Ness was a 4WD track at the beginning of which was the most amazing sculpture of two traditional Aboriginal figures. It was just there, at the side of the road, with no plaque or explanation – quite unusual. The trip to Loch Ness was challenging – rocky, twisty, undulating and, perhaps most nerve-wracking of all, many blind summits where you had no idea if the track went straight ahead or did a corkscrew to the right or left – with a precipitous drop if you guessed wrongly. It was pretty remote and we didn’t see another vehicle during the trip.
After a mile or so however I discovere
d I had been duped by a very devious Sandra who was not really interested in Loch Ness at all but was on a quest to find a specimen of Sturt’s Desert Pea in its natural habitat. Like the Gouldian Finch for birdwatchers, Sturt’s Desert Pea is a must for wild flower enthusiasts. Although she had seen and photographed them in Alice Springs (on the a central reservation of a dual carriageway) and at Tom Price (in a car park) she had never seen one “in the wild” – and suddenly there they were in all their red and black glory. Ecstasy!
McTaggart’s Road i.e. the track we were on (I suspect some of the early explorers / settlers may have come from Scotland) led eventually to
Loch Ness which, in a way, was a bit of a disappointment. The original Loch Ness is the best part of 30 miles long, about a mile wide and very deep. Its Australian counterpart is about 6 feet long, 5 feet wide and about 15 feet deep – it is a well, still with water in it – and I detect an ironic Scottish sense of humour went into its naming!
With more rain forecast we couldn’t afford to be trapped there if the road closed so we headed south towards the Flinders Ranges National Park. With light beginning to fade we decided that a stop at a roadhouse campsite with a meal and a drink in the pub would be attractive so off we went to the small town of Blinman. Whilst Blinman no doubt has many attractive features, the scruffy carpark doubling as a campsite at the back of the pub is not one of them thus, despite the failing light, we moved on and that night found us at Dingley Dell in the Flinders National Park.
The Flinders Ranges are visually stunning with fascinating
geology and good information and interpretive panels and we drove down the Brachina Gorge Geological Trail and the Bunyaroo Valley. To Sandra the mountains resembled The Rockies whilst I was more inclined to think of the Cuillins in Skye particularly when the forecasted rain eventually arrived. With glowering mountains being lashed with rain under a grey and stormy sky I didn’t have to travel 12,000 miles to find this sort of scenery! We debated whether it was better to set up the tent now and sit out the rain or to drive through the rain – we decided the latter, said goodbye to Flinders National Park and set off south once again.
The distances between towns are now becoming less and we drove through Hawker and Quorn hoping for the rain to stop – it didn’t. With light failing we arrived at Mount Remarkable, a smallish National Park in the southern reaches of the Flinders Ranges. Pitching the tent in the lashing rain was not a lot of fun and it rained most of the night. However, once the Oztent is up we are secure and dry and ready to face the next day.
PS Written hours after the above was typed.
As I sit battened down in the tent with rain still lashing down hour after relentless hour; as the second thunderstorm rages over us (or has the first one come back with more); as I contemplate rain pouring off the roof and being caught in a bowl for dishwashing; as I look out at the firepit and barbeque area with the thoughtfully placed logs to sit on and sing jolly campfire songs; as I think of all the above I think back to a welcome sign I saw near Lake Eyre which read
“South Australia. The driest state in the driest continent on earth”
Bah!!!!
map can change ones travel plans. We were headed for the well-known Flinders Ranges National Park in South Australia when up from the map sprung the words - “Loch Ness”. Being from Inverness and well acquainted with the real Loch Ness, the urge to explore the Australian version was irresistible so off we detoured to the Vulkathunha-Gammon Ranges – “the last cluster of ancient mountains before the vast plains of central Australia where few travellers venture”After the excitement of water skiing on mud towing a Toyota up the Oodnadatta Track the car, not to mention ourselves, were in a bit of a
muddy mess and we decided to stay at the Farina homestead for a few days to get cleaned up and for Sandra to do more crafting. The thick, clay-like mud was several inches thick on the underside of the car and was setting hard. I spent a happy day with a knife and axe hacking at the mud whilst trying to ensure I didn’t chop through anything vital – like break pipes, electrics etc.Farina, now just ruins, was once a thriving town built, as the name suggests, to be the centre of a developing wheat industry which unfortunately never got off the ground. In its day it was quite a place with two hotels, the Exchange and Intercontinental, shops, a post office, school, hospital, bakery (undergro
und, restored and still looks as it could be operational) It even had its own “house of ill repute” called The Angle’s Rest, which I suspect may have been a spelling mistake for The Angel’s Rest (see photo) Australian spelling of that era was a bit hit and miss. The township is slowly being renovated by the sheep farmer whose land it is on and an enthusiastic band of conservation volunteers who periodically brave heat and flies to restore a little bit of Australian heritage. However there is still someway to go before the hotel bathroom is fit for purpose although, as can be seen from the photo, this doesn’t deter the odd vagrant from making use of the facilities!
Our campsite was very pleasant and, as we were staying for a few days, we set up a full camp including Sandra’s “studio” tent where she crafted away for a couple of days whilst avoiding the flies – then back onto the road heading south for the Flinders. Through the small town of Lyndhurst then on to Leigh Creek for a meal stop, a look at the map, the discovery of the Antipodean version of Loch Ness necessitating a route change from South to East.
Quite a reasonable dirt road took us the 60k or so into the Vulkathunha-Gammon Ranges with the only incident of note being when we spotted a black mass moving slowly across the
road - going too fast to stop safely I ploughed on through it then stopped. Speaking to an opal miner in Coober Pedy he referred to the problems of the rain, the first being that it wasn’t possible to mine opals in the rain and, secondly, the rain brought “the plagues”. The first of these plagues was the flies, the second was the mosquitoes and the third, which I had just ploughed through, was locusts. The road, and either side of the road, was covered with hundreds of thousand hopping locusts as can be seen in the photo. I didn’t feel so bad about wiping out a few hundred of these when I later heard these are pests and were part of an eradication programme.
The road to Loch Ness was a 4WD track at the beginning of which was the most amazing sculpture of two traditional Aboriginal figures. It was just there, at the side of the road, with no plaque or explanation – quite unusual. The trip to Loch Ness was challenging – rocky, twisty, undulating and, perhaps most nerve-wracking of all, many blind summits where you had no idea if the track went straight ahead or did a corkscrew to the right or left – with a precipitous drop if you guessed wrongly. It was pretty remote and we didn’t see another vehicle during the trip.
After a mile or so however I discovere
d I had been duped by a very devious Sandra who was not really interested in Loch Ness at all but was on a quest to find a specimen of Sturt’s Desert Pea in its natural habitat. Like the Gouldian Finch for birdwatchers, Sturt’s Desert Pea is a must for wild flower enthusiasts. Although she had seen and photographed them in Alice Springs (on the a central reservation of a dual carriageway) and at Tom Price (in a car park) she had never seen one “in the wild” – and suddenly there they were in all their red and black glory. Ecstasy!McTaggart’s Road i.e. the track we were on (I suspect some of the early explorers / settlers may have come from Scotland) led eventually to
Loch Ness which, in a way, was a bit of a disappointment. The original Loch Ness is the best part of 30 miles long, about a mile wide and very deep. Its Australian counterpart is about 6 feet long, 5 feet wide and about 15 feet deep – it is a well, still with water in it – and I detect an ironic Scottish sense of humour went into its naming!With more rain forecast we couldn’t afford to be trapped there if the road closed so we headed south towards the Flinders Ranges National Park. With light beginning to fade we decided that a stop at a roadhouse campsite with a meal and a drink in the pub would be attractive so off we went to the small town of Blinman. Whilst Blinman no doubt has many attractive features, the scruffy carpark doubling as a campsite at the back of the pub is not one of them thus, despite the failing light, we moved on and that night found us at Dingley Dell in the Flinders National Park.
The Flinders Ranges are visually stunning with fascinating
geology and good information and interpretive panels and we drove down the Brachina Gorge Geological Trail and the Bunyaroo Valley. To Sandra the mountains resembled The Rockies whilst I was more inclined to think of the Cuillins in Skye particularly when the forecasted rain eventually arrived. With glowering mountains being lashed with rain under a grey and stormy sky I didn’t have to travel 12,000 miles to find this sort of scenery! We debated whether it was better to set up the tent now and sit out the rain or to drive through the rain – we decided the latter, said goodbye to Flinders National Park and set off south once again.The distances between towns are now becoming less and we drove through Hawker and Quorn hoping for the rain to stop – it didn’t. With light failing we arrived at Mount Remarkable, a smallish National Park in the southern reaches of the Flinders Ranges. Pitching the tent in the lashing rain was not a lot of fun and it rained most of the night. However, once the Oztent is up we are secure and dry and ready to face the next day.
PS Written hours after the above was typed.
As I sit battened down in the tent with rain still lashing down hour after relentless hour; as the second thunderstorm rages over us (or has the first one come back with more); as I contemplate rain pouring off the roof and being caught in a bowl for dishwashing; as I look out at the firepit and barbeque area with the thoughtfully placed logs to sit on and sing jolly campfire songs; as I think of all the above I think back to a welcome sign I saw near Lake Eyre which read
“South Australia. The driest state in the driest continent on earth”
Bah!!!!
PPS Next day
Still raining. Keeping a watchful eye on nearby river which has been rising rapidly - hope it doesn't burst its banks . Am going to get out the umbrella and take the computer for a hike up Mt Remarkable to try to get a phone signal to get onto the internet to post this blog and, more importantly, get a weather forecast.
It's raining here as well and it's also cold and now dark at 4.30.....make the most of it in rainy Oz.
ReplyDeleteLove the Sturt's Desert Pea, suspect it won't grow in sunny Scotland though, even in a conservatory.
Happy travels. Susan G