The Ocean Road Home

As fun as it is to rattle one's innards and car alignments on endless, unsealed, washboard gravel roads, we needed a see change for the last days of the trip. So this includes gritty mining port cities of Port Hedlund and Karratha. They seem to exist totally for the export of mined iron ore but I do applaud the permanent residents (as opposed to the fly-in,fly-out workers) efforts to improve quality of life. Art programs and art galleries featuring Aboriginal artists work, community programs and Target stores. I'm afraid their greatest offering to us was real beds, real showers and a chance to do a bit of laundry. We stayed at the holiday home of the CWA (Country Women's Association, see 3-28-09) a pleasure and a bargain at $40 in a city where a basic box hotel is $200 a night.

If Port Hedlund exists for mining, Exmouth exists for tourists. Ningaloo Marine Park is such a wonderful change from the grit of the interior. There are beautiful bays with snorkeling amongst the coral almost at water's edge in shallow, moderate waters. A squall followed us in, so it was two days before water activities became fun or even recommended by park staff. Of course, this did not stop Mr. Intrepid from giving it a go each day anyway. I don't know how our tent, anchored into sand, didn't blow away...even with us in it. What we didn't get to do was swim with the sharks. Whale sharks, that is. They eat krill, not people, and winter in Exmouth. They're a big draw, understandably, but expensive also. The official operator asks $380 for the couple of hours worth of thrill. I'll just feel my heart speed up looking at stock photos.

Carnarvon, the green stop of the vacation. Another CWA unit, no where near as homey as Port Hedlund, but an excellent base for exploring as it is located right downtown. Carnarvon has just the right conditions to be able to grow crops year round. In fact, 80% of all winter produce for the state comes from this area. We toured a banana plantation, which grows relatively few bananas compared to other crops, and learned heaps about how farming is done from underground water sources which are alloted by a shire water scheme. Very interesting. We visited every produce stand open on every farm hoping to stock up on farm fresh fruit, vegetables, herbs, eggs and ice cream. We hiked along a one-mile jetty and strolled through a sheep shearing station museum.

This really ended the exploratory part of the vacation. We had already visited some of the spots between Carnarvon and Perth ( see The Old Pearler, 2-13-09) so we broke up the long ride home with a stay at the Old Priory hotel. It's an old convent school that functions as an upscale country pub on beautiful old-growth property. Kind of a halfway house back into civilization as Kevin watched rugby in the pub and I lazed in a heated room drinking Baileys and watching Christmas movies (Christmas in July, the southern hemisphere's answer to Hollywood's northern version) and each having a good time.

Random Photo #1: Bound and determined to make the most of every possible experience this trip, Kev spits in the eye of Fate (or was that his own eye?) to stand at the very edge of a gorge eating fresh prawns. He would have called his stockbroker if we could have gotten cell phone reception. (OK, not really. But it sounds good, anyway.)

Random Photo #2: OZ has a thing for giant tourist landmarks. Meet Mr. Egg, a bit larger than Mr. Prawn, more colorful than the giant Guitar, but not as colorful as the giant Banana but not as sweet as the giant Pineapple. etc., etc.

Random Photo #3: Not to be confused with the giant landmarks in Photo #2, but there are oodles of these giant termite mounds in the Pilbara. Somehow, I hadn't associated termite mounds with this continent before this trip.

Random Photo #4: The Faithful Steed. Coated in red dust and now missing a tailpipe. Kev's coworkers had bets that the old jalopy wouldn't make it to the end of the trip. We're kind of amazed ourselves. Had a Plan B if the old gal gave up the ghost along the way--it entailed looonng hikes with whatever we could carry on our backs.
Advanced aged and creaking parts never seemed to deter Kev from driving 120 kph on the most wretched of roads. Hail Mary, full of grace...

Karijini National Park

Brrrrrrrrrr, it's cold here at night. 40F, maybe? And in our fairweather tent? This kidney stone is threatening to rattle again. Are you sure you inflated this air mattress properly? What, do they only have two grills in the park? And no water supply at all? It's a full moon casting those eery shadows of tree limbs. Are those dingoes howling out there?

Karijini National Park, unlike so many other "national" parks in WA which would barely qualify as metro parks back home, is worthy of the designation. And, by day, a fabulous place to be. And a reminder of where you are in the country: no fresh water, no trash cans, no picnic tables, no full service ranger center. A few outhouses, a couple of gas grills (found in EVERY park as open flames and their forest fire potential are resoundingly banned) and a pair of old pensioners functioning as volunteer guest hosts (another common fixture) are there to abate trouble and maintain order. You bring it all in, you pack it all out.

But the gorges are gorgeous. Geological forces on grand display in a most glorious way. Kevin took them all on and swam in each pool with great, goosepimply gusto. I descended into only the narrow gorges I knew I could get myself out of again. These weren't wide, mawling canyons at the bottom of all the striated rock. God has to only spit once and the marked hike trail is the bottom of some serious white water rafting course. The daytime temps were perfect for these hikes.

I found a magical place at Millstream Chichester National Park. It's a former cattle station (ranch) which suffered land loss to the state to supply fresh water to the burgeoning mining port of Karratha with eminent domain claiming the rest for a national park. The homestead remains as an interpretive center. The out kitchen is roped off (to all but pooping kangaroo) but is still interesting. But follow the path of ancient paperbark trees and date palms to a magical place, beautifully lit in early morning sunlight. Recent rains have made the streams flowing out of the lily pond swell. The water is warm and everything it touches is a color of green that would induce jealousy in a leprechaun and not found anywhere else in Western Australia, I am sure. The date palms and the lilies were planted by the pioneers but add beautifully to the ethereal beauty of the place. I have to use a tourism office photo to sort of convey the scene I witnessed. I was too busy drinking it all in to tinker with cameras. No swimming though. This spot is/was considered an important corrobee site for a wide arc of aboriginal communities.

These primitive but premier parks are a magnet for gray nomads. [see Gray Nomads, 3-10-09] The price is right, $6.50 pp/night, regardless of the acreage they take up parking the caravan, extending the wide canvas annex, popping open the shower tent, adjusting the satellite dish and splaying the solar panels. Doubtless, many are disappointed that there is a 28-day limit in the parks. I did the math and figure these folks are paying less than $400 a month "rent", precious little in "utilities" as the sun powers/heats everything (those solar panels were bought with a government go-green subsidy)and a bit for groceries- all of which should be covered by their pensions. Charge $1,500 or so a month in rent for the home they left behind and presto! instant pension-stretcher-strategy. I call it a hog-all-the-spots-in-the-park-so-no-one-else-can-get-in conspiracy. Shoot, we saw someone park/sleep in their truck first in line at the ranger station (no reservations taken) at night to be sure to get an open spot at eight the next morning.

Move along, buffalo.

North for the Winter

Headed north for warmth during a winter vacation--that's southern hemisphere talk for you. Headed to the Pilbara, where the romance--and grit--of the outback starts to come alive. It takes about ten hours of driving through nothing to start seeing widening in the roads that are/could-be ghost towns, endless brown dirt turns to endless red dirt, medium brush turns into small brush and lonely roadhouses are prominently marked on maps.

Pretend for a moment that you are Jed Clampitt aiming your gun at a critter, pull the trigger and discover gold. Red gold. Iron ore and jasper rock.

This part of the state-containing little more than kangaroo and a few "black fellas"-- could have been sold off for a few bucks and some bright beads had not a couple of geologists come through and found their idea of a playground. Iron ore makes big bucks and madmen of all who toil in the hot sun (one area had 160 consecutive days over 100F in the 20s) in the industry that keeps this state financially viable. The LARGE earth moving equipment and vehicles seem to fit in with the sharp spinifex brush. Good thing, too, as it is quite a fact of life here, even usurping generals-on-horseback statues as a favorite piece of community art at the visitor centers. We toured an open pit mine and gawked in amazement. We posed for photos by 10 foot tall ($30K) Goodyears like all good tourists.

And we collected some of the rocks that make this land unique.

You can't help yourself, its much like collecting pretty shells at the beach. Marble Bar is unbelievably exotic in the way it plainly and precisely demonstrates how strata developed on the Earth's surface. It's actually jasper rock, but throw water on it and indeed it looks like a marble worthy of any fancy palace. But look, don't touch. The extreme age of

this rock and Aboriginal importance of the place make it a protected

aspect of the area, so deemeth the federal government.

Oh, that red dust is fine and insidious. Who knew there was enough gap around the door handle to allow this earthy powder to spread out like a bouquet around it? Our clothes and hair appear to be permanently recolored, I don't even bother changing. And other than the windshields, the car won't get cleaned either. You and I need to visit a few national parks yet, as well as take an ocean drive, before real life and rain change the vision.