Lava rock and impassable swamp

5000 kilometer camp – 04.09.2002

Clouds gather in the sky again and obscure the sun. We are happy about the shade although it is getting more and more oppressive every day. Without a doubt, it looks like something is brewing. By lunchtime, however, the clouds had receded again.

Our caravan crosses a huge mountain of scree. The 24 camel feet carefully feel their way over the rough rock. With eagle eyes I watch over the ground and pull Sebastian over the places that don’t look quite so bad. Some of the interesting stones are undoubtedly the remains of a lava flow several million years old. Again and again I bend down to pick up the shapes that have merged together. If it wasn’t so strenuous and risky to lead our boys over these sharp boulders, it would be a pleasure to walk over these marvels of nature. As we cross the zenith of the mountain, the view into the distance is breathtaking. We stop for a few moments to enjoy the impressive view and take some photos, then we head back downhill. The soil changes in the valley. Suddenly I discover deep cracks and dips in the red soil. Startled, I stop the animals. “This is the clay soil we were warned about years ago,” I say, pointing downwards. “You mean this is the ground that turns into an impassable swamp when it rains?” “Exactly. Look at the cracks. They’re at least a meter deep. When it rains, they fill up with water. The ground softens and turns into a swamp. Our boys would sink in here up to their bellies and nothing in this world could get them out. So let’s pray it doesn’t start raining in the next few weeks,’ I explain.

I carefully guide Sebastian around the deep cracks in the earth, because if just one camel’s foot breaks through, it can snap like a match. It only takes half an hour to reach the branched riverbed of Sylvester Creek. I slowly steer the hard-working animals through the first riverbed. Just like in the Simpson Desert, it’s uphill and downhill here, only there are no dunes but one small riverbed after another. We have to overcome at least 10 to 15 such watercourses until we reach an open, soon unlimited plateau. “Back there, just before the mountain range, we must come across a track,” I say to encourage us. We follow the compass needle with determination. The sun is blazing down from the firmament but the imminent prospect of a rest camp spurs our steps on.

As predicted, we actually hit the track. “Yay, you’re a good navigator,” Tanja cheers, because from here on we’re allowed to follow paths all the way to Marion Downs Station. We set up camp on the banks of a nameless creek. The only trees that can be found far and wide grow along such rivers. Although it would also be risky on a riverbank in the event of a spring tide, the merciless rays of the sun, which will soon be 60 degrees, force us to take advantage of the shade provided by these gidyea trees.

A threatening-looking cloud front towers up in the west. “Will it start raining soon?” Tanja asks. “I don’t think so. The barometer is high. Nevertheless, it could rain a few hundred kilometers from here. But even if there is a spring tide, we are relatively safe here on the raised bank,” I reply.

We experience an impressive, blood-red sunset through the storm clouds. We sit in our chairs and enjoy the rare natural spectacle. Only 30 minutes after the flaming ball of sunlight has hidden behind the horizon line do the flies calm down and when it is completely dark they disappear into their night quarters. Unfortunately, this hardly means any relief for us, as the moths and moths seem to be increasing by the day. They buzz around our heads and dive into our teacups or food in whole groups, just like the kamikazes, so that this too becomes a real challenge.

Because of all the events of the last few days, I completely forgot about Rufus’ diary. I may be dog-tired, but I can feel the eternal curiosity gnawing at me. Before I settle down at my camp, I summon up the last of my energy and set off on my search, as I have done so often in recent years. Rufus is already dozing under my camp bed. As he usually has a sound and deep sleep, he won’t notice me messing with his things. I carefully lift up his blanket, because when he is tired and exhausted, he simply puts his little book underneath it. “It’s not there,” I whisper. Pondering, I look at our faithful companion and think for a while until I realize that the thing he has already taken with him is lying under his body. I gently lift his left paw and pull out the important and unique work.

THE EXPEDITION DIARY OF AN EXPEDITION DOG NAME RUFUS

A dog’s life simply has its ups and downs. I experienced a definite low when I was riding Hardie and no longer knew what to do. I suddenly felt the urgent need to do a goofy (empty myself) and could hardly keep myself in the saddle. When I was forced to relieve myself while riding Hardie’s saddle, my life was no longer what it once was.

I don’t know what shocked me more, Deni’s devastating words or Tanja’s incessant giggling. The worst part of the whole thing was that my people kept making rude remarks and jokes about my mishap for days. My good reputation was ruined for the time being. It took an eternity before I had a chance to restore my good reputation: When Jasper set himself down on a sand dune and I, together with Tanja, was able to get him to stand up again, I saw light on the horizon again. At last my humans had good and kind words for me again and the praise of being a good dog was almost as tasty as a good bone several weeks old.

I was glad when we set up a rest camp on the edge of the desert for several days! We were all tired from all the sand dune walking. Tanja’s birthday was the next big event at the camel camp. Since she was wrong with the sugar calculation, i.e. no one had been there for days, there was no birthday cake. As my people are very inventive when it comes to food, we had bread rolls with peanut butter. I was able to cope with the fact that I didn’t get any of it, but when Tanja unwrapped the little chocolate bars, my mouth watered. I used my special X-ray vision and, oh joy, it worked. To celebrate, I didn’t get any chocolate but a delicious dog chew stick. I could have celebrated my birthday for many more days, but the next day it was all over again like a beautiful haunting.

The next experience was terrifying: first our camels were gone, then my Tanja and then Tanja and the camels. It was a nightmare. It seemed like an eternity until Denis gave me the command: “Find Tanja. Go to Tanja.” At that moment, I didn’t care about anything. I would have left my own dinner. I knew there was more at stake here and I thought only one thing. Find my Tanja. I didn’t even want to imagine what it would be like if she was no longer in my life. No more time was allowed to pass, I turned my dog’s nose to the wind and my instinct led me north. I ran off, soon turning slightly to the west, still at lightning speed. My nose felt like it was glued to the ground. There, I could catch a whiff. Her trail became stronger and after a bit more walking I could hear her whistle. I ran as fast as I could and that’s when I spotted her. She laughed at me and I flew into her arms and licked her face. As a thank you, she stroked, cuddled and praised me and told me how relieved and happy she was to see me. We couldn’t lose too much time after all, as the camels were still missing. I unerringly led Tanja back to camp and we met Denis on the way. He also praised me with the words: “You’re a real hero Rufus.” For the rest of the day I had to be patient and could do practically nothing but wait under Hardie’s saddle. This day with all its excitement felt endlessly long and when I crawled into my sleeping bag late at night, relieved to hear my humans telling each other about the day’s experiences, I was glad that we were all doing well.

It’s a responsible life as a rescue dog…

Smiling, I put the little red book back under his paw. I don’t want him to notice that I’m able to take a look inside and drag me to my camp bed. From today on, I no longer use a sleeping bag on this stage and just lie down in shorts and a shirt. The moths and tiny night flies settle on your body and stick to your sweat. Although they do not bite or sting, it is quite uncomfortable. I’m finding it hard to close my eyes again. But at some point I fall into a restless sleep. Tanja, on the other hand, has it a little easier. Their sense of temperature differs from mine by about 10° degrees. She sleeps peacefully in her sleeping bag and is hardly bothered by the tiny flies.