Rufant
Well-known member
From Sandstone it was back on random dirt roads. Steadily trekking north east, just following our noses like usual.
We called into camp at Lake Mason homestead. It was too early for us to stop, not to mention the place had a pretty spooky, deserted vibe to it.
The weathered buildings went well with the moody skies.
The flies here were starting to get quite bad. N was safely ensconced in the Cruiser whilst I was outside. We happened to have the Dirty Dancing soundtrack on (I’ve started buying CDs again, mostly from Op Shops - you can only listen to so much playlist music and AM radio, no phone or internet reception most of the places we go - so random old CDs makes for some entertaining music selection that you can play anywhere, anytime) so as I’m dancing around flailing my arms around to get rid of the flies before racing back to the car. All she sees is a crazy man dancing badly to Yes! by Merry Clayton, very amusing apparently.
As were heading back to the main track a good old boy in his Troopy came barrelling the other way. We stop for a yarn (although the old bugger was exceptionally hard to hear over the sound on the engines and he would regularly turn away to gesture where he was talking about - I am deaf in one ear so that doesn’t help - N filled me in on the details of the conversation afterwards) apparently he lives another ten km past the Lake Mason camp. He explained that the ‘lake’ hasn’t had water in it since 1976 “that’s the year I was born!” I say. “Must have been a good year then!” he cracks back. Apparently there have been the odd bird watcher come out to see the birds on the lake, only to find it isn’t that sort of lake. Anyway, he seemed a nice enough chap. People living so far out in the bush always fills me with questions, which never seem appropriate to ask in such a short exchange.
We found some properly lonely roads that afternoon.
Quite late into camp that night. A free roadside camp that was set well back from the road. A ute came in after us but didn’t stay, so we had the place to ourselves. Well us, and several million of our closest little mates.
Flies were bad here, even I had the fly headnet on. Luckily only for an hour or so till the sun went down.
Unfortunately we had forgotten to plus in the Thumper battery to be charged as we drove this morning. So it was already quite discharged when we came to plug the fridge in that night. Nothing for it but to turn the fridge up a little and hope for the best, as temperatures probably wouldn’t get lower than mid twenties overnight.
We called into camp at Lake Mason homestead. It was too early for us to stop, not to mention the place had a pretty spooky, deserted vibe to it.
The weathered buildings went well with the moody skies.
The flies here were starting to get quite bad. N was safely ensconced in the Cruiser whilst I was outside. We happened to have the Dirty Dancing soundtrack on (I’ve started buying CDs again, mostly from Op Shops - you can only listen to so much playlist music and AM radio, no phone or internet reception most of the places we go - so random old CDs makes for some entertaining music selection that you can play anywhere, anytime) so as I’m dancing around flailing my arms around to get rid of the flies before racing back to the car. All she sees is a crazy man dancing badly to Yes! by Merry Clayton, very amusing apparently.
As were heading back to the main track a good old boy in his Troopy came barrelling the other way. We stop for a yarn (although the old bugger was exceptionally hard to hear over the sound on the engines and he would regularly turn away to gesture where he was talking about - I am deaf in one ear so that doesn’t help - N filled me in on the details of the conversation afterwards) apparently he lives another ten km past the Lake Mason camp. He explained that the ‘lake’ hasn’t had water in it since 1976 “that’s the year I was born!” I say. “Must have been a good year then!” he cracks back. Apparently there have been the odd bird watcher come out to see the birds on the lake, only to find it isn’t that sort of lake. Anyway, he seemed a nice enough chap. People living so far out in the bush always fills me with questions, which never seem appropriate to ask in such a short exchange.
We found some properly lonely roads that afternoon.
Quite late into camp that night. A free roadside camp that was set well back from the road. A ute came in after us but didn’t stay, so we had the place to ourselves. Well us, and several million of our closest little mates.
Flies were bad here, even I had the fly headnet on. Luckily only for an hour or so till the sun went down.
Unfortunately we had forgotten to plus in the Thumper battery to be charged as we drove this morning. So it was already quite discharged when we came to plug the fridge in that night. Nothing for it but to turn the fridge up a little and hope for the best, as temperatures probably wouldn’t get lower than mid twenties overnight.