Lake Gairdner sunrise morning, after a fantastic night that was had by all, and everyone got out early to enjoy the ambience.
Sadly, Carl’s ambience had been disturbed a bit the night before by a piece of toilet paper with vegemite on it half buried near the end of his swag, and a dream about dingos.
The salt lake with its crusty surface was a very different experience to our normal places and it was different in the mornign to what we saw the night before. After the standard breakfast presentations were held, with Hooch getting an award for contribution to innovation and generational understanding, and Leighto got the spring for coming back after a tough morning. It looked like there would be not enough beer to get to Ceduna, and then there was a leak from a jerry can and a water can in his ute. In the end he came through with a great display in the end, even giving himself a rocket up the you-know-what!
We travelled through varied country heading north tending north-west to meet the trans-continental railway and the track west to the head of Goog’s Track. The country varied but was all harsh, primeval country, where everything looks like its breaking its back just to survive. The evolution of the landscape to this point shows the impact of the harsh sun, wind and lack of moisture. Signs of life are here and there; a run of trees follows down a watershed; kangaroos move slowly through the landscape, blending in as best they can. As we got further north sand dunes replaced the rocks, with salt lakes here and there, softening the landscape. Discussion on the radios revolved around how hard, strong men would have come to this land to settle it.
We met our westward route at Kingoonya, an old railroad town that’s dead on its feet, despite the efforts of its progress association (click here). A quick lunch of burgers and then a stocktake of the situation, and the decision that we needed more gasoline was made. We needed the precious crude. The new Hi-Lux went back
into Glendambo and filled the jerry cans and we were good to go. Prior planning will always prevent poor
Thoughts were turning to Goog’s as we headed further west, passing through Tarcoola, which looked like it had died a recent death, and out into less-travelled country. A sign indicated 10kms to go to Goog’s, and finally we hit the top of our goal, Goog’s track.
Our first taste of the track firmed us to brace ourselves as we penetrated the bush to go deep south to Ceduna. Bush camp again this evening beside the track, thinking of Sebastion and preparing for the task ahead.