Tropical North Queensland Outback

John McDowall Stuart was a successful explorer! This cannot be disputed or else the historical record will set you straight. Robert O’Hara Burke and William John Wills were failed explorers again not disputed as their corpses were mute testimony to! However, nothing much can be found of Stuart – except the Overland Telegraph, but Charles Todd gets all the kudos for that, and yet you are almost tripping over memorials to Burke and Wills. This is the power of politics, and it suited the politicians of the time to lionise Burke and Wills and poor old Stuart has been relegated to the historical shadows. I came across cairns to the men, street names and even a town (mind you a tiny blip on the map to be sure) named Burke and Wills. It is always important when considering this and Burkes suitability for his job that before he went to Castlemaine as a policeman he was in Beechworth, and he got lost trying to get to Yackandandah! Yackandandah being all of about 5 – 10 kms from Beechworth!!

I left the dreadful winds of the Barkly Way and got into Mt Isa. Again, I had heard frightful stories on the road of Mt Isa and its issues, but I found a lovely largish town, with all that is needed to stock up for the hapless traveller and I think the friendliest town I have come across thus far. Everyone I came across was overtly friendly and helpful. It really was a lovely place. And as a bonus there were no cold winds to contend with!

I set out from Mt Isa, with a connected diesel heater and made my way to Normanton, which takes you into Carpentaria country. It was on the way to Normanton that I had an opportunity to see Cloncurry which is a lovely place full of pioneering homes side by side with rather swish town house. In Cloncurry they are exceptionally proud of their horse culture and the statuary of the town attests to this – as do the shops. If I had wished, I could have come away with a fetching pair of fringed leather chaps (read over pants) from one of the shops in the main street!

I then did a left turn and headed on to Carpentaria country and the next sleep over was in Burke and Wills then onto Normanton. On this road you get a sign welcoming you to tropical North Qld and pretty soon you learn that one of the joys of being in this part of the world is that you get nibbled. There is a vast array of insects that will feast upon you. One of the most annoying is the midge. I can say I have ever seen one or heard one, I have just started scratching from their bites and to I find that they always seem to nibble in places that can’t easily be scratched in public – like butt cheeks and inner thighs! Thankfully at a market I had purchased a spray bottle of some anti itching concoction as I found Stingos didn’t even come close to assisting with the discomfort. This seemed to do the trick thankfully and at least stopped me from wiggling strangely and uncomfortably in public. Normanton is a tiny outback town, but it had a great free camping spot, and it was so nice in there along the river that I stayed 2 nights.

Then to a tiny little place obsessed with barramundi fishing and with good cause apparently as it attracts any number of Victorians during the winter months to partake! Its name is Karumba and I found myself not being able to say it without saying AIH Karumba in honour of Bart Simpson!! It sits on the banks of this river with water that glistens green in the sun I really hadn’t seen a colour like it. It looked beautiful with the lining of Mangroves along its other bank. It was here that I started to be treated to an avian feast – when I first arrived in the town there were 2 great big green trees almost meeting one another over the street these were filled with corellas. They were lethargically squawking in the heat of the midday sun but most excitingly for me were flocks and flocks of Brolgas – they were feeding on the grass on the side of the roadside by side with the cattle – their red headbands standing out against their grey feathers and the golden spinifex. They were gathered around the water holes and flying in flocks together – their long, long legs stretched out behind them making them look like jet liners I watched one lot coming into land and they glided In with such elegance that a prima ballerina would blush. It was such a treat!

Another feature of the landscape is that the trees are all small. It is as though it is so hot and humid that they cannot be bothered to chase the sun as we from the cooler climes are accustomed to! They have a haphazard sparse appearance – almost there as perfunctory for photosynthesis but forget beauty and luscious canopies it is too damn hot! The ground is covered in spinifex turned to gold ion the sun and where it has not dried it wafts gently in the breeze. The Brahmans all squeeze together to take the shade and sit amongst the spinifex.

I then took a left turn and found myself on the Burke development road (there is that name again!) and I found myself cursing him by the end of it. It started out beautifully sealed but then became gravel and then just rough. It took me through vast cattle stations seemingly filled with the ubiquitous Brahmans and enchantingly the brolgas. I became fascinated by the cattle for to my amateur eye they look cadaverous, and I wondered how a farmer could get any money from the meat on them, but a fellow was telling me that these properties were used for breeding and that they go elsewhere to fatten. I dodged potholes, waded through deep puddles left over from the wet season and went for long distances of roads corrugated by torrential tropical rains, the car and the caravan were impressively covered in mud. Signage gave me a false sense of security as Dunbar was said to be 220 kms but to my dismay I found this to be a homestead for cattle station (which I have to say was a very impressive structure) and I had to keep pushing forward for another 300 kms. After about another 100 kms I happened to look at the side mirror of the car and found my roof rack hanging drunkenly – it had shaken off with the prolonged jiggling. I pulled over and got out of the car – the Brahmans were very curious which of course set Mr Bingley into a frenzy, and he was unceremoniously put into the caravan. I was fortunately able to lift the roof rack back onto the car after I had taken a couple of the heavier things off it. I was just securing it with rachet straps when a fellow pulled over to help me. I wonder if I have met anyone more kind or helpful. It was like he was sent from Heaven on this isolated rough road. He helped me finish of securing the rack and then even said he had a bit of spare fuel and asked if he could put it in my tank! He had his 9-year-old son with him, and they were making their way back to the cattle station that they lived on. It was about 6 pm and the shadows were lengthening ominously telling of the time that the wildlife come out to play and I was buggered after the arduous drive. So, I set up camp on that side of the road hoping that the owner of the property would not turn up during the night to tell me to move on!

The next day I jiggled and rattled my way into a gorgeous little place called Chigalloe. Here instead of Brolgas I am surrounded by peacocks! The roof rack is now secure, and we move out again tomorrow for the next set of adventures!