Friday 4th May 2007

   I woke up uncomfortably warm in my sleeping bag and when I checked the thermometer I could see why. It was 20 degrees and only just after 6am. But I need to count my blessings as I think the warm nights will not last much longer. I am prepared for very cold nights when I am further into the centre of Australia and further into the centre of winter.

   The radio sched with Roger was very clear this morning and I was able to have a reasonable conversation with Bill. I packed up the antenna and the rest of my gear and was away by 7.30.

   There were now creek crossings every 30 minutes or so and the trees were bigger and denser. Wearing Hills, a low range to my right, was slowly coming closer to the road. On my left, Stirrup Iron Range, slightly more imposing, was also closing in. And, on the horizon dead ahead, I could see more hills rising as I got closer and closer. Finally, around 10.30 I came to the expected hard turn to the right. Unexpectedly though, there was a major sign telling me that I was about to walk through Wearing Gorge. There are not very many signs in this part of the woods. There was a road straight ahead but there was no mistaking which was the road "most traveled". And an even "lesser" road 50 metres away heading off to my left.

   I figured this was as good a time as any to take a break. I had checked my maps yesterday afternoon and knew that the road, which has been heading NNE to due North, the direction I want to generally follow, now went due East. I followed along the almost indiscernible banks of  Outouie Creek and its several tributaries that took me through the Wearing Hills to where the road again turned NNE after 11km of a very picturesque walk. And I had the company of three emus that wandered off each time I got close. But they always headed in the direction I was going so we were together for nearly an hour.

   As I emerged from the gorge, the road started to flatten out, and after a slight rise, I was at a junction of several fences and there was a barely usable cattle yard with the timber posts leaning at all angles. Most imposing, was the view of the way ahead. It was barren, flat and the road just got narrower and narrower until it disappeared just short of where the land met the sky in a dead straight line. I settled into my steady afternoon walking pace with a couple of hours to go where I hoped I would find some substantial trees for tonight's camp. I find it amazing that I can be walking in a pleasant, tree filled valley at noon and by 3 o'clock I can be on a flat, almost barren plain.

   I was contemplating the sparsity of it all, when the way off sound of a large truck coming up from behind got me thinking how little traffic I was now seeing daily. It was so quiet "out here", not even the usually ever present bird life, that I could hear a vehicle long before it came alongside. Today, there would have been less than 10 vehicles all day, a mixture of 4WD station utes, 4WD tourists, some with caravans, and several trucks. Three of them had stopped and we went through the usual questions starting with "Have  you got enough water?", but the semi-trailer that was now pulling up beside me was a different story altogether. With a squealing of brakes and a hiss from the compressed air system the driver stuck his head out of the window.

   "Is this the way to Beverley Mine?"

   Now, I'm not into seeking celebrity status but since I have been walking the outback, I have grown accustomed to being the centre of, at least, the opening conversation. But this, typical aussie truckie just wanted to confirm that he wouldn't have to drive, on what to him was a rotten road, for another hour, just to find out he had to turn around and go all the way back. As I have said, there aint many road signs, and often there are turnoffs where I have had to stop and consult my maps.

   "Uh. Not sure mate." I said, walking up to stand by his door. "I haven't passed it yet. I've got good maps. Would you like me to have a look?"

   "Yeah, ta."

   He sat there, ten feet above ground level, with the motor running while I took off my pack (I didn't mind taking a break) and dug out my maps. I have heard of Beverley Mine. It is one of only two uranium mines in operation in Australia. But I would have put it in the Northern Territory, not around here. So much for my geography lessons.

   I climbed up onto the side of the truck and we poured over the map I was on and also the next few which would cover a further 60km or so. We could not find the mine on my maps but he did recognise a tee junction 20km ahead where a road joined from the East that he had considered taking up from Yunta on the Adelaide to Broken Hill road. Confident that he had not taken a wrong turn yet, he wished me well and rattled off with a cloud of dust and disappeared from view 10 minutes later.

             

   At last a serious line of trees a few kilometers ahead promised a creek crossing and a camping spot for tonight. When I got to it, there was a significant rocky bottomed, dry creek with a signpost telling me I was at TEATREE CREEK. I found a patch of sand and set up camp, got a fire going with plenty of wood around and settled into my noodles and soup.

   After a good radio sched and a sit around the fire, I retired felling happy with my 26 kilometers today.


          
   Tomorrow, on to Wertalooma. Battery pack troubles.