Only 300 kilometers to go to the coastal town of Rockhampton

Day: 241 Stage three / total expedition days 632

Sunrise:
05:28

Sunset:
18:56

As the crow flies:
22,3

Daily kilometers:
38

Total kilometers:
6632 km

Temperature - Day (maximum):
35° degrees, sun approx. 55°

Temperature - Night:
22° degrees

Latitude:
23°25'24.3"

Longitude:
148°58'38.5"

Cowboy John-Camp – 12.01.2003

Today is the last time we leave a homestead in the bush during our crossing of Australia. We have planned to cover the 300 kilometers to Paradise Lagoons without stopping and expect to complete the route in 10 days. As Paradise Lagoons is the theoretical destination of our expedition, we feel motivated. The station of the famous cattle baron Graeme Acton lies just before Rockhampton and once we have reached it, no one can deny us the success of our crossing. Nevertheless, we want to end our expedition by touching the Pacific Ocean. However, this represents another major challenge for us. To reach our dream destination, we are forced to walk another 70 kilometers from Paradise Lagoons through the town of Rockhampton and along the highway to the coastal town of Emupark.

Of course, we are aware that the town of Rockhampton poses an incalculable danger to our caravan, but unfortunately there are only two large bridges spanning the huge Fitzroy River within a radius of several hundred kilometers. To reach the coast, we are forced to cross this large river that forms a serious barrier between the sea and the inland. Unfortunately, both bridges are located in the center of the city. So to reach the Pacific we need a police escort to stop the traffic on the bridge for us. I also don’t yet know how we can avoid the busy highway to Rockhampton. “Let it flow Denis. When the time comes, we’ll find a solution to overcome the obstacles we can’t see now,” I whisper, answering my thoughts and giving the command to set off. We wave to our hosts Rona and Ian until they disappear behind the loaded saddles of the camels, rocking back and forth.

As we have promised Judith and John that they can spend an evening with us in the camp tonight, they follow us. Although we seriously advised Judith not to accompany the caravan on foot, she now walks behind the camels with Tanja. John follows us at a greater distance in his jeep. After just a few hundred meters, Tanja and Judith lose contact with the caravan. Judith is not used to running fast and can’t keep up. In order to reach our goal for the day, however, we are forced to maintain our average running speed of around 5.5 kilometers per hour. When I reach the gate after 2 ½ kilometers, which opens the way to the road, I have to wait a long time for the two of them.

On the single-lane road, Tanja has to walk directly behind the caravan to warn me of oncoming road trains and cars. That’s when Judith joins John in the car and we get back to our usual walking pace. However, it doesn’t take long before we cross the valley at the Mackenzie River dam. From here we follow the old cattle trail that was built over a hundred years ago to bring consumer goods from the coast to the remote stations and vice versa, to drive the cattle from the stations to the coast. As the old stock route has not been used since the construction of the railroad line, it only exists on the map. So once again we are forced to fight our way through the country in a cross-country march. 15 kilometers east of here we will reach the Jellinbah East Mine road. John is unable to accompany us in his jeep for the next 15 kilometers. The terrain is far too rough for that. We agree to meet our visitors on the other side. You have to take a detour of at least 80 kilometers. “See you later!” Judith calls, waving after us as we continue our run.

Alone again, we march across a hilly grassy landscape. Again and again we come across fences along which we walk until we find a gate. Just a few hours’ walk after Cooroorah Station, everything dries out again. The local thunderstorms have only allowed the grass to grow in a few small areas. Over 90 percent of the country is still experiencing the worst drought in a hundred years. We walk laboriously through tall, thorny bushes and dead, completely dried out grass. We discover a water pipeline and follow a strip of earth raised by clearing machines for a few kilometers.

HIS EYES ALMOST FALL INTO THE RED SAND

I’m pulling our boys along one of the fences again when suddenly two mighty bulls block our way. When the one discovers the caravan, he jumps up and races off. The other bull, however, remains lying there and seems to ignore us completely. As there is a group of trees to our left and a fence to our right, the mighty king of cattle blocks our way. “Funny, normally he should run away, shouldn’t he?” I say, standing just 10 meters behind him. “He seems to be used to people,” says Tanja. “People maybe, but camels?” I reply broodingly, bend down, pick up one of the dried-up cow pats and throw the bull on its ass. “He doesn’t move a bit,” wonders Tanja. “Hm, strange.” “Look at his eyes. Is he blind?” Tanja asks. “I can’t imagine. I think he’s asleep.” “But look at his eyes. One of them is totally red and bulges outwards somehow,” she says. “Hm, I still can’t run past him under any circumstances. If he suddenly gets spooked, he’ll ram our camels and that would be fatal. I’ll throw another pancake at his backside, maybe he’ll react this time,” I say and hurl the thing at his muscular backside. Suddenly he opens one of his eyes, bored and as if in slow motion. The red eyelid, which is curved outwards, suddenly slips into a normal position. As if to say: “Who is disturbing my sleep?” he turns his mighty horned head to the side. His eye, still half closed, now opens to its full size. The other eye also opens. The bull seems to be slowly realizing that the mirage behind him is not a reflection. Suddenly he jerks his skull further around. His eyelids widen even more, so that his large eyeballs soon fall into the red sand. As if a rocket had hit him in the butt, the bull, who had just been sedate, leaps explosively to his four feet and catapults away like a bomb fragment.

For fractions of a second, we stand there completely dumbfounded. “Ha, ha, haaaa!” Hi, hi, hi, hiiiii!” our indignant laughter suddenly bursts out of us. “Did you see how he suddenly opened his eyes? Ha, ha, ha! My God, that was funny,” Tanja snorts, half choking. “Yes, yes, I did. But did you see how he suddenly jerked his head around?” “And how his eyes suddenly bugged out in shock? It took him a while to realize which monster snake was approaching him so silently and was suddenly standing behind him.” “Unbelievable, ha, ha, ha. That was one of the funniest moments on the expedition,” I reply, also doubled over with laughter.

Cheered up, we move on. The bull and his mate watch us from a distance. We are still walking through dense, dry grass. Suddenly, a snake slithers through the low undergrowth at my feet. “Watch out! She’s coming your way! Stop right there!” I warn Tanja. The snake winds past Tanja’s shoes at considerable speed and disappears into the brown grass. We have to walk along the fence for a long time until it leads us onto a wide gravel road. “There’s a coal mine up ahead. I don’t think we should get too close to it. The mine management won’t be pleased to see us here and our boys will be frightened by the big scrapers,” I say and lead Sebastian through the open gate. Then we head back in the same direction we came from until my GPS indicates that we are back on the old cattle route.

EVEN AT THE END WE ARE NOT IMMUNE TO INCIDENTS

Large dykes force us to zigzag across the terrain. Before we know it, we find ourselves in a maze of dams, water veins and hills. The mines need the water for their work and have created this water system here. When another dam blocks our way, I turn off to the north. I lead our boys through a deep, dry crater. We carefully climb out of the notch on the other side. The camels find it difficult to climb the steep bank. “Slow down Denis!” Tanja calls out. Highly concentrated, I walk on as if in slow motion. “Oh God! Edgar has fallen! Stop! For God’s sake stoooop!” Tanja’s words tear the sultry air apart. “Udu Sebastian!” I slow down his run, but as always in such a case, the others go a few meters further until the last camel comes to a halt. Edgar’s neck rope tightens so much in the few seconds that Tanja is forced to jump between the roaring Edgar and Istan to cut it off. “He’s done it! He managed to get back on his feet on his own! Phew, that was close!” her cautionary words relieve me a fraction of a second later. Even at the end of our crossing, we are not immune to such incidents. We carefully feel our way forward and find a way out of the labyrinth. When we come across a track again, we meet a man on his motorcycle. He shows us a wrong way to the street where we want to meet John and Judith.

To inform the surrounding stations of our arrival, Ian from Cooroorah called some neighbors, who in turn informed their neighbors. As a result, word of our itinerary spread like wildfire. Many station people come out to see the camel caravan. We stop again and again to talk about our experiences in a few words. Although we are on remote trails, we have rarely met so many people.

We’ve been walking for over six hours when we finally come across Judith and John. An hour later, we set up camp next to the busy road on the mine site. After I have completed my navigation and the recordings, we sit down with our visitors. Both get out their guitars and play Australian country music. We listen to the melodic sounds, the funny and sad lyrics and spend a wonderful evening. After another exhausting day, we crawl tiredly into our mosquito tent.