Blackheath in the Blue Mountains, 26th July

Just two days drive from home now, so this will be the last post. The car incidents continued as, between Winton and Longreach, the electric brake controller died. We lobbed into the auto electrician in Longreach who fitted a new one, just another $400 item to add to the long list! Before we left the town we went down to the banks of the Thompson and were confronted by two hundred caravaners free camping. The challenges this must bring to the town council are obvious, the benefits perhaps rather limited because apart from fixing the occasional caravan issue and buying a morning coffee most caravaners stay put and socialise where they are. The tourism must be a welcome flush of money through the roadhouses and visitor information centres.

Isisford is an enchanting little village an hour or so south of Longreach, and we put up in a well grassed spot behind the pub. 

Not famous for anything apart from some good fishing for yellow belly (see sculpture left made by an 85 year old bloke), the 80 residents have made the most they can telling the history and placing every kitchen or laundry item over 30 years old on display. The weather remained warm and cloudless (as it has even to today) when we made an early start to head further eastwards towards Carnarvon Gorge. Taking the roads less travelled as always, we quietly wound through undulating country with distant ranges, charming towns like Blackall and Tambo, fetching up on the edge of the most western end of the National Park concealed from view but overlooking some beautiful country. The cattle on the other side of the fence hadn’t seen a vehicle before and showed some curiosity. 

By the time we had finished our meal fifty had quietly gathered there. Through the night we could hear their digestive systems at work accompanied by the occasional moo. Turning the light on caused a major stampede as they thundered off, not to be seen again. Such a good spot. The following day was another fine drive east, this time stopping close to the access road into Carnarvon Gorge. Again, an unspoiled ideal camp site in open forest with ample kindling, so we made a rare fire as the temperature was getting low. We were surprised the next morning by a distant approaching vehicle, that when abreast of us in the forest swung around and returned whence it came at a great pace.

Something didn’t seem right; I had commented on this the evening before. We packed up quickly and moved on to start our day of walking in the Gorge. Very sadly a kangaroo leapt out of nowhere under the car as if with a death wish, adding to the horrendous road kill in the eastern states. It is nothing like as bad in the west. Helen got into conversation with a young mum who was walking the gorge and camping with her little daughter at the tourist park nearby, who said “Queensland is really difficult, you can stop anywhere you like throughout Australia but in Queensland it’s illegal to camp beside the road unless in a prescribed place”. Well, we had two great nights out!

We have visited Carnarvon Gorge before and it was well worth it the second time. The times that the visitor centre give you for what is a long walk are way wrong, but it’s a most rewarding walk deep into the gorge, with several short side walks to features such as the Moss Garden (a landscape architects dream), 

the Amphitheatre (where you will climb a tall ladder and slide between the towering walls of a crevice that leads you into a hollowing out with a view to the sky maybe 80 metres above), Wards Canyon where illegal fur trappers hung out, and the Art Gallery, a fifty metre long stretch of wall covered with pecking, painting and stencil art. The “women’s business” is amazing! We walked 14 kilometres and paid the price!

Women's business

With a few hours of daylight remaining we headed south in a serious manner to Injune, carrying with us a sense that we are ready to get home now. We do touch wood and trust nothing more will go wrong. The hot shower in Injune was balm to aching muscles, and lamb chops for dinner in the pub a fitting reward. A big drive saw us through Queensland via Roma (street bottle trees), Condamine (bullock bells, ballads and floods), Moonie (oil rigs) and into NSW via Goondiwindi, famous for racehorse Gunsynd, camping finally in Warialda. 

Wanting to follow the ranges we rang our friend Jane, newly moved into her new abode in Blackheath in the Blue Mountains, where after another big drive of c500km we are now staying and being wonderfully indulged. The country right through Queensland and as far south as we are now in NSW, is in deep drought and looks shagged out.

We met the unofficial mayor of Merriwa at our lunch stop in Goulburn River national park yesterday, who commented that it was the driest it has been for over 60 years and many farmers have taken a big risk (minimum cost $50,000) sowing a crop. It is now too late to get a crop off as there is only at most 50mm showing, so those who took the risk will just have a little to feed stock on. Stock are being driven along the major and minor roads all the way along our route south.

Well, as I sit here looking out over Jane’s lovely garden and fine little treed valley, with sun pouring through enormous picture windows, it is a good moment to call this trip done. Another thousand or so fast km and we will be home in time for Sunday dinner. 

PS a beautiful walk today, 27 July, with Jane and Elke on the sandstone country around Blackheath, with a huge variety of native plants like Waratahs, these Grass trees (Xanthorrhoea sp.), Sunshine Wattles and Banksias flowering.