Station to Station WA

I realise I have used this title in a 2019 blog about cattle and sheep stations in the eastern states. The life on WA stations is, if possible, even more harsh. I noted last time the diversification into tourism with station tours and camping sites, and I still feel it is a privilege to gain access and some insight into the life of these huge farming enterprises.

On the road you pick up information about interesting places to visit and where the good campsites are. We also use a great app, Wikicamps, which gives all manner of information: everything from whether there are rubbish bins at a wayside parking stop, through to the availability of electricity and water, shade, scenery, a laundry, swimming, fishing etc. Yes, it even notes if there are crocodiles, though we are now too far south to worry. As with any travel site, the reviews are as revealing about the venue as they are about the reviewer.

We spend almost three weeks staying at three cattle stations, which, with apologies to Tolstoy, are all alike, but different in their own way. They are all cattle stations and at this time of year they’re busy with mustering. Depending on the station this involves various combinations of horses, motorbikes, four wheelers, and helicopters. When you’ve got thousands of hectares, it’s a lot of roaming ground for cattle. I’m providing links for each station so if you are so inclined you can read more about them.

Cheela Plains Station is a family owned and managed working cattle station of 188,501 hectares and has a great set up for camping and caravans. There’s red dirt for miles, but we all back our caravans up to a large grassy oval that makes for a (slightly) cooler spot where kids play and adults sit with g&ts or beers. Once a week there’s $10 burger night and staff cook the burgers on a flat plate over a massive open fire pit. These events are always a good opportunity to meet other travellers and, as mentioned, glean information about places that we may not know about.

At Cheela Plains a patch of grass is a welcome relief from red dirt

We take a day trip that is an archaeological journey: a drive up the Beasley River Gorge, which runs through the property, reveals a continuous succession of rocks that record the rise of oxygen in the Earth’s oceans and atmosphere more than 2700 million years ago. This is awesomely known as The Great Oxidation Event. Until this time, our atmosphere was rich in carbon dioxide and methane.  Geologists reckon that over a period of 400 million years the earth’s atmosphere became oxygenated, leading to the evolution of complex life forms – like fish, and people who understand crypto currency and non fungible tokens, and the rest of us. 

Only open since 2017, Peedamulla Campground is a different stay entirely. Peedamulla means ‘plenty water’ and the Cane River runs through the 226,000 hectares of the cattle station – when it runs. The campground has only 20 sites, and in fact water is scarce, so not so much plenty water at this time. In fact the Cane River is mostly dry right now. Aboriginals own this property but the campground was developed under Tourism WA’s Camping with Custodians program. This is an initiative which allows visitors to stay on Aboriginal lands and engage with Aboriginal people.  Tourism WA pays for the development – showers, toilets and general set up – and the quid pro quo is jobs, training, and economic return for the local Aboriginal Community. Typically there would be talks and discussions with locals in the evenings, all on hold because of COVID. There’s a lot of serenity here, so trips provide a change of scene. We 4WD out to the coast, which is stunningly beautiful as the tide comes in. Not so charming, the snake crossing the road on the way there.

why did the snake cross the road?
teach a man to fish and he’ll never stop

Out third station is Bullara Station Stay, another very popular family owned and run property which has made itself as much of a bush-camp set up as it can, without actually being one.

Bullara’s burger cooking set up.

The showers are all set up as “camp” showers -buckets with holes punched in the bottom instead of shower heads. Initially it’s a bit disconcerting when the water keeps flowing after the taps are off, but it is just the bucket emptying.

They use corrugated iron for the toilet and shower blocks, old horseshoes and bolts and bits of tools for door handles and toilet roll holders. It’s an effective technique for using what’s on hand for a design purpose. The overall effect is a bit of fun. You know it’s not a real outback camp, but hey, let’s pretend we’re roughing it.

door bolts

A few pet sheep wander around the property along with a couple of kangaroos, one of which comes to visit and sleeps under the caravan. She must’ve come back overnight as we woke to kangaroo pee on the mat outside our door. Maybe she was annoyed we didn’t feed her enough almonds earlier in the day.

Skippy drops by looking for almonds

Another off road trip took us out to the Gulf (Exmouth Gulf) but no snakes this time. The drive was a bit of a disappointment – not because of the lack of snakes, but the gulf coast at this point isn’t particularly arresting: I despise mangroves even though I know they perform useful tasks in the ecosystem.

Even so, it was worth it for the proliferation of wildfowers on the way there. Still lots of purple Mulla Mulla, but now also a lot of white flowers, including these pipe cleaner like blooms pictured below. We never tire of them.

for those who like flowers
for those who like a map

Simply gorgeous

Does the word gorgeous come from the fact gorges are so gorgeous? I pose this question to myself constantly as we explore the stunning chasms that carve their way through Karajini National Park.  Set in the heart of the Pilbara, just north of the Tropic of Capricorn in the Hamersley Range, Karajini covers 627,422 hectares and is WA’s second largest national park. For the most part it is dusty plains punctuated with rocky hills ( they call them mountains but you and I know 1200 metres is just a hill ) jutting up out of nowhere. Then you arrive at the edge of a cliff that takes you down a precarious path to a lovely natural swimming pool. Our favourite is Fern Pool in Dales Gorge, and we reach it after a long walk around the rim of the gorge, then a descent and a long walk along the gorge floor.  A waterfall cascades at the end of the pool which is about five or six metres deep. Someone dives in and loses their sunglasses; Scott has his mask, fins and snorkel with him and after a few dives manages to find them, much to general delight.

Fern Pool in Dales gorge, Karajini

Throughout the park there are more than half a dozen accessible gorges and swimming holes – all require some clambering down and climbing out, sometimes over quite unstable surfaces, and all are worth the trouble. I run out of words to describe all of these wonders: they are magnificent, deep chasms, many fed by waterfalls, fringed with greenery and mind blowing rock formations.  

the rock walls are a constant fascination

The permanent water supply supports some native trees, such as the Rock Fig  and Rock Kurragong which miraculously cling to the rock walls and flourish.  Fluffy purple Mulla Mulla, bright yellow cassia and wattle – 65 species no less – spring up and show their full glory against the red earth.

the will to live
Fortescue Falls, Karajjini, requires a long walk down

The Pilbara is a geological time map – It comprises the oldest and most ancient rock formations in the world. It’s true. Parts of the Pilbara are dated over 3.5 billion years old and the existence of stromatolites – the earliest fossil evidence of life on Earth – are present here and also nearby at Shark Bay out to the coast. The knowledge they were the only life for a couple of billion years before they raised the oxygen level enough to allow the development of other forms of life, us, for example, is astounding.

The night sky viewing is second to none and we sign up for an astronomical adventure with Phil, a man whose jokes have more corn than Illinois, Iowa and Indiana combined. But he has three telescopes and he knows his stuff. TMI (too much information) results as he reels off numbers of light years, degrees of heat, numbers of moons and how many Earths could fit onto other planets, and I tune Phil out and simply enjoy the beauty of a sky with no light pollution, and gasp at the images we see through the telescopes: Alpha Centauri, Jupiter, Saturn, the Moon and other nameless stars that are so much more than what they seem – like all of us.

the moon by iPhone via telescope

It has been a revelation – isn’t everything in this country? – to discover the Pilbara region and the diversity of landscapes. We now head west and will stay on some working cattle stations as we head to the coast again.

at home in Karajini
for those who like the flowers
for those who like a map

Now where’s the rain?

On Easter Sunday we bid farewell to the Jacaranda City, its bendy bridge and showery weather, to make the steady climb to cross the Gibraltar Range at 1170 metres elevation. The view isn’t much as we are in the clouds until we descend to the Northern Tablelands on the western side.  At one point I check the fuel consumption and the Toyota is gobbling 40 litres/100 kms as it drags the caravan up the steep sections.  And diesel is about $AUS1.50 a litre.

We have our first ‘unsupported’ night in an overnight camp. We pull off the highway to a large rest area beside a stream, surrounded by paddocks. There are a few horses, some cattle and a few kangaroos.  We hear dogs barking in the distance.  No power or water so we are self-sufficient. The gas runs the fridge when we’re not hooked up to power, and the stove top and barbecue are gas anyway.  A couple more caravans turn up during the evening and there’s the usual chat about where you’re headed and where you’ve come from.  As usual, Scott gains a few more tips about the caravan.  Everything works as it should so we’re confident to free camp again.

the hunter-gatherer gathering wine at our overnight spot

We head for the small town of Inverell then south west to Copeton Dam.  The Dam is in 1,400 hectares of State Park and we arrive on Easter Monday as most people are leaving. It’s hard to explain the extent of the waterway which, when full, is 4,600 hectares: three times the size of Sydney Harbour. Unlike Sydney Harbour, it needs rain and they haven’t had much for the past few years so the dam is nowhere near capacity. 

Having set up camp we head off in the car to explore some of the Park’s 1400 hectares.  We find a boat ramp that runs several hundred metres, but the water level is so low it doesn’t come near the ramp. We are a long way further down the track before I look at the nav screen and see we are in the blue bit – by rights we should be under water – or driving an amphibious vehicle. 

somehow we’re not drowning
the high water line is clearly visible and a long way above the water

Our camping spot is in the midst of several caravans peopled by an extended family who have been coming here every Easter for 20 years.  Most of the older guys – well, they’re our age – were involved in building the dam in the 70s. They tell us it’s been at least five years since the dam was last full, and at that point it laps the road in front of our campsite.

Though the good old Edmonds Cook Book recommends an oven, it can be done – scones successfully cooked on the barbecue –

Our new acquaintances also tell us to be careful when we go walking in the bush as ticks can fall from the trees. Having freaked us out telling us how the tiny bloodsuckers burrow into your flesh, Lynn casually says “but you’d have to be unlucky to get bitten”.  I feel itchy just thinking about it and have visions of Scott and I examining each other like monkeys after every nature encounter.

A couple of hours later we join the family at the fire pit for drinks, and what do we find? Lynn attending to Peter who has a tick buried in his belly. Yep, really unlucky.  They were collecting kindling from under the trees when Peter felt a bite on his belly.  While Peter pinches his flesh to stop the tick burrowing deeper,  Lynn dabs on Tea Tree oil, which apparently smothers the tick.  It is then extracted with tweezers along with the advice “be careful not to break off the head”. Break off the head? The bloody thing is the size of half an ant.

At least now we’ve seen one and know what to do: I buy Tea Tree Oil in anticipation.  However I must look like a Lady Grantham clutching her pearls whenever we are under trees, as I hold tight the neck of my shirt .

apparently these jumping jacks are full of ticks as well

A hitch or two to start the trip

We fly into Brisbane and are on the right side of Australian Customs racial profiling and go through the green lane. It is straightforward to take the train to the end of the Gold Coast line and within a few minutes Jeff turns up with our Toyota Land Cruiser – as advertised and as promised. By the way, change of ownership which is free in New Zealand, cost us $3000. This is known as a LCT – luxury car tax.

So far, so good. What could go wrong? Quite a few things actually, both large and small.

The mighty Toyota and caravan set up at Tallebudgera

We have a no drama trip towing the caravan from the sales yard to the Tallebudgera where we plan to spend the first 4 days. It’s only about 10 kms but I manage to give Scott plenty of advice on towing, which I’ve no experience in whatsoever. Actually, it’s more along the lines of: are you ok? how does the car feel? watch out for the traffic light, shouldn’t you brake now? don’t cut the corner. Those of you who know Scott know he is man of almost infinite patience so we arrive still speaking. I’ve watched a video entitled “How to park a caravan without getting a divorce”, so the parking goes well.

Ready for its new owners – scottandbevgocaravanning

Tallebudgera Creek Tourist Park is a beautiful place well situated on Tallebudgera Creek – no surprise there – which is more of a river mouth, and the ocean of Palm Beach. The park isn’t very full but this will change at the weekend when school holidays start.

looking towards the river mouth and down Palm Beach from Burleigh Heads.

Having successfully parked, levelled, connected water and power, and organised the grey water disposal, the only thing that remains is getting the awning out and the annex (aka outdoor room) up. We’ve been led to believe erecting the annex is akin to building the pyramids and that it would take as long.

As we’re short a few thousand slaves, we are lucky to meet Dave and Michelle who are parked a few bays further down. “No worries” is Dave’s mantra and he leads us through the pyramid building in short order – where short order is a couple of hours rather than all day. He is also the source of a ladder, a drill, advice about towing and weight distribution hitches and much else. Michelle introduces me to all the useful apps for caravanning, including those for locating the best fuel prices, weather forecasts, and emergency assistance – the last of which we hope never to need. They are a great couple and very generous with their time, providing enormous help to us novices.

Sadly Dave and Michelle won’t be travelling with us to lend tools and a helping hand.

It’s at this point we realise how much other “stuff” we need that we hadn’t anticipated. We extend our stay at Tallebudgera another 3 days and spend our time going to outdoor equipment stores, BBQ outlets, kitchen and storage solutions stores, supermarkets, technology outlets, and I’m fairly sure I do my 10,000 steps every day simply going up and down the aisles of Bunnings.

Annex successfully erected, ready for a drink

It’s when I am stashing stuff in cupboards I notice the first hitch – three of the cupboards lack an internal catch – visions of spilled contents. We call New Age to tell them about the oversight, and after some disbelief on their part – they require photographic evidence – Rodney comes and installs the necessary catches while dispensing advice on what he thinks are the best caravan parks. Analysis reveals his preferences – there is a strong correlation with proximity to RSL or Bowling Clubs.

So after a week of getting organised, stocking the caravan and getting into the travelling mindset, we are ready to move on. The first step is to reverse the process of setting up. We take down the annex and pack everything up. Anything loose inside is secured and, as advised, we work through a checklist to make sure we don’t drive off with the power still plugged in or the tow hitch not correctly connected. In fact, our first stop is the tow bar shop to get, as Dave our consultant in all things caravan advises, a weight distribution hitch. This does what it says on the box. It evens the weight distribution across the car by putting more load on the front wheels – handy, as this impacts steering.

So we head off to the tow bar fitter quietly congratulating ourselves on how well we’re doing. Ha Ha. Small hitch. Scott notices the little outside table which folds down from the side of the van and needs to be locked up for travel, is flapping in the breeze. We stop on a bus stop, Bev runs back and unlocks caravan, grabs the keys, locks table in place, locks caravan, runs back to car. We agree if that’s the worst to happen we’ll be doing well.

But worse is to come.

Towing mechanisms in place and $990 later we are on our way but for another small hitch. The fridge has three power sources: it operates off 240 when we are plugged into mains, or shore power as Scott likes to call it, gas when we are parked up with no outside power, and on the alternator of the car when we are driving, so there is constant refrigeration. When we take off driving the fridge isn’t working off the car as it should so we call New Age (again) and they say to call in on our way out of town.

Mark at New Age tests the cabling and we find there’s no connection to the fridge – Jeff had said all the cables were there for caravanning, so we didn’t check. Maybe Jeff doesn’t like cold beer. Ok what do we do? Turns out this needs a couple of hours at the auto electrician. Booked for Wednesday. It’s Monday and we are on our way 100km down the coast. No problem, we can drive back up on Wednesday.

It’s midday and at last we are leaving town and on our way. Or are we? Why isn’t the rear caravan camera working? Mark! Can you have a look please?

Oh dear. A major hitch. When Scott did a tightish U turn in the caravan yard the cables between the car and the caravan got caught in the towing plate. One severed completely, one partially wrecked and one red face. Mark, the workshop guy, is a Kiwi from Maungaraki so gives Scott shit. Lots of it, while reassuring him he isn’t the first and won’t be the last. Fortunately they are great guys and send us away for a couple hours and get Jordan, another Kiwi who is an auto electrician, on to fixing the mess.

oh darn

We bring back beers to say thanks, cadge another small favour, and at 4.00pm hit the road, having left the caravan park at 10.00am.

We are now at a small place called Skenners Head, near Ballina on the NSW north coast. Scott has been back to the auto electrician and another several hundred dollars later we have, all the required connections and plugs sorted. We hope we’ve run out of setting up costs as they seem endless. I know you don’t feel sorry for us – I wouldn’t either!

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