Not only camel training is dangerous
Temperature - Day (maximum):
approx. 30 degrees
Anna Plains Station – 08.05.2001
Before we drive to the 80 Mile Beach Caravan Park today to pick up the majority of our equipment stored there, we feed our animals double rations. It’s good for us to do something other than just train camels. Jasper and Edgar are certainly also happy to be able to take a break from training.
Jo and Collin give us a very friendly welcome. We chat for a while and talk about our successes on Anna Plains. Then we park the Holden with trailer in front of an old toilet block which is packed to the brim with saddles, saddlebags, shovels, solar paddles, ropes, and soon everything we needed for the last stage from Wundowie to Anna Plains. Collin was kind enough to offer us this shelter at the time. Anna Plains was too unsafe for us as a campsite. The countless rats and mice living in the barns there would have eaten our belongings as a feast while we were away. The old toilet block, on the other hand, is almost leak-proof. Only a few mice have managed to get in there. During our stocktaking and loading, we discover only minor damage.
Shortly before we set off, Collin suggests: “I’ll soon be getting a new clutch for our jeep. I will then repair it in the next few days and would be able to bring you the first food supplies after the first 150 kilometers.” Although this proposal has already been offered to us by John Stoat, we are thinking about it. As Anna Plains is about 120 kilometers from the start of the Kidson Track and Collins Caravan Park is right next to it, his offer takes us a little further than John’s. We will decide shortly before the trip how to organize it. We would like to thank you for your generous help and say goodbye.
It is already dark as we drive towards a rising full moon with our Holden. Tanja and I enjoy the pleasant temperature of the night, discuss the future and listen to music. Rufus lies at Tanja’s feet. From time to time, he lifts his head from frolicking on the beach only to put it down again. The Holden and trailer are so fully loaded that there is no more room for him on the loading area. Due to the heavy load, we only creep along the pitch-black tarmac at 80 kilometers per hour. It is not considered safe to drive in the dark. Too many cows, kangaroos and emus could jump into the car unexpectedly. Aware of this latent danger, I look ahead intently. Beware of crossing cows, warns an abandoned road sign from time to time. The interrupted central reservation of the carriageway has a hypnotizing effect on me. “Would you like me to relieve you?” Tanja asks. “No, I’m in top shape.” The central reservation lulls me again and suddenly I recognize an irregularity in the darkness ahead of me. I startle out of my liturgy, slam on the brakes and realize with horror that we are sliding towards a whole herd of cattle that is crossing the highway from left to right. “Oh God!” exclaims Tanja. I can no longer steer due to the locking tires, the unbraked trailer pushes violently. Only a few meters separate us from the inevitable impact. I quickly take my foot off the brake pedal, steer carefully to the left-hand side of the road and just a meter before I catch the last cow by the rump, she makes a leap to the right. “Phew, that was damn close!” says Tanja, breathing a sigh of relief. “You did a really good job. Thank you very much,’ she adds while I’m still clutching the steering wheel tightly. “We were lucky that this cow jumped after its comrades at the last second and no one else followed it,” I reply and at this moment I am convinced that driving a car is much more dangerous than our camel training.
We make a short stop at Sandfire to refuel. Ken Norton greets us and gives us a batch of postcards. When we passed by here with our camels a few months ago, Tanja photographed the caravan in front of his roadhouse and gave him the picture as a gift. Ken had a beautiful postcard printed from it. We like the result. “We’ll send them to our friends,” says Tanja with a laugh.
