Will we collapse 700 kilometers from our destination?

Day: 171 Stage three / total expedition days 562

Sunrise:
05:35

Sunset:
18:37

As the crow flies:
15,8

Daily kilometers:
33

Total kilometers:
5751 Km

Temperature - Day (maximum):
40° degrees, in the sun approx. 60°

Temperature - Night:
17° degrees

Latitude:
23°24'45.5"

Longitude:
144°16'13.6"

Longreach-Camp – 03.11.2002

FIRST THE INSPECTOR, THEN THE NOISY NEIGHBORS AND NOW THE RUBBLE DUMP

Before one of our noisy neighbors wakes up from his stupor, we leave the waterhole on the Thomson River. We follow the narrow path that I explored yesterday with the animal inspector. Large flocks of sheep have replaced the herds of cattle here. The small white clouds move peacefully through the sea of yellow grass. We have to cross a few gates until we reach the Longreach rubble site. “We bypassed it yesterday via the asphalt road over there. If we go through the gate here, we might save ourselves a long detour,” I say, pointing to the distant road. “Whatever you say,” Tanja replies and opens the fence gate. We walk slowly along the western side of the scree slope. Plastic sheeting, bags and paper are whirled through the air by the wind and get caught in the barbed wire fences. The sight is horrible and cramps our hearts. Right next to the garbage dump is the pastureland where the cattle and sheep search for food. 10 minutes later we come across a stinking sewer. “We can’t possibly cross it. Let’s go to the right, maybe we’ll find a crossing,” I think aloud and pull the caravan eastwards. Only 500 meters further on, the contaminated water blocks our path again and forces us to walk in the direction we came from. Because of this detour, I’m suddenly in a terrible mood. Rufus barks like a man possessed at the many kangaroos that hop around here in large hordes. “The strongest nerves won’t stand for it! Rufus, shut up already!” I scold him, but he can’t control himself. Annoyed by the constant barking, the ugly sight of the garbage dump and the unforeseeable detour, I stop the caravan. “I’ll get Rufus off the saddle. Maybe if he walks on the lead he won’t bark like that,” I continue to grumble.

Tanja then leads our faithful companion on the leash. It doesn’t take long before we come across the rubble site. People are about to dump their garbage. When they see us, they stand motionless and look over at us. “I bet they’ve never seen a camel caravan on their rubble site,” I say and pull the animals onwards. As we pass by, we wave to them in a friendly manner, whereupon the people wake up from their motionlessness to wave and greet us as well.

The rubble is burning in some places. Acrid smoke wafts over to us. Our lungs seem to be crying out for help. “There’s a path to the other side,” I shout and pull Sebastian through between two mountains of rubble. Cranes hover above our heads and land elegantly in the middle of the garbage. “They seem to find something edible there,” I say. “What a contrast. You look so beautiful strutting around in all that scruffy garbage,” Tanja replies. “Yes, that’s right. A real shame for these proud birds,’ I say, not wanting to believe that we’re fighting our way through the middle of the Longreach rubble. What a contrast to the solitude and pure untouched nature. We have not crossed a settlement for over 4000 kilometers and now, after two years, our caravan is winding its way through the human waste of a small town.

I’m back to my thoughts when Tanja suddenly calls out: “Watch out for a snake!” My heart almost stops in shock when I spot the snake right next to my foot. “A plastic snake!” Tanja shouts seconds later, almost collapsing with laughter. “You should have seen your face. Ha, ha, ha. It really froze.” “My God, she scared me too. She looks really real,” I say, also laughing.

AFTER THE EISENERZ CITY NEWMAN THE FIRST SEDDING

Half an hour later, we have left the stinking rubble behind us and reach the outskirts of the city. People watch us from their houses. Some come running to us and ask the usual questions. We stop briefly to answer them. “Here’s a bottle of frozen water,” says one of the residents and hands us the cold treasure. “Thank you very much,” I reply and put it in my saddlebag. Then we reach the fence along the highway. We follow it for 500 meters until we reach the gate through which the cattle can be driven across the highway. “You can take your camels through here,” the inspector explained yesterday.

When I want to open the fence gate, I discover the padlock. “What a load of crap. I missed that yesterday,’ I grumble. “We have to get back and it looks like we have no choice but to lead our boys through the city.” “You mean there’s no other way?” Tanja asks. “No, the gate at this fence is the only way to get the animals across the highway. If we can’t get through here, we’ll have to go back and walk through the streets of Longreach. I can only hope that Jasper and Edgar don’t freak out,’ I reply disappointedly.

We’ve been on the road for four hours and haven’t even covered 10 kilometers yet. Dejected, we march towards the city. It’s a strange feeling when we cross the highway on Sunday at around 10:30 in the morning and are forced to follow it into the city. We carefully feel our way along the wide asphalt road. Fortunately, there is hardly any traffic at this time. A few cars drive towards us. Thank goodness the camels remain calm. We are now walking directly towards a traffic island. I look nervously at the big traffic roundabout, always expecting to be standing in front of one of the huge road trains that suddenly come thundering around. Traffic signs are everywhere to warn drivers. For us, the signs mean nothing more than further dangerous obstacles. One of our lads can easily wrap his neck rope around the metal signs or get caught on them with his overhanging saddlebags. Although it is a large road, an approx. 18-meter-long camel train runs the risk of taking up both lanes and possibly even the hard shoulder for itself.

“Roadtrain! Denis Roadtrain!” Tanja’s warning call pierces my limbs. I quickly pull our boys down the embankment between two traffic signs. I pray that Edgar and Jasper don’t stray too far and flatten one of the two signs. Tanja stands in the middle of the road to wave the road train down with her hand. Thank goodness the driver reacts and brakes his monster vehicle down to walking pace. While our boys and I wait in the wide ditch, the giant creeps past us. Jasper prances around a little, but can control himself not to just walk through. Relieved, I pull the caravan back onto the road.

There are now houses to the left and right of the road. People are watching us. A tourist drives unexpectedly close to us in his rental car. I can’t believe it when he is about to stop just in front of us, blocking the way. The animals look excitedly from left to right. “Go on! Keep going!” I shout anxiously to the driver and wave with my free hand. He immediately accelerates and speeds off. Under great tension, we pass a petrol station, the municipal swimming pool, a few stores and cross a railroad line. Cars stop or give way to us. Tanja runs behind the caravan. In addition to her job as a traffic police officer, driving Rufus, she also tries to film or take a few photos. Like me, she doesn’t have an easy job. The animals are still relatively calm. Jasper prances a few meters to the side from time to time. Edgar is also infected by Jasper’s nervousness and sometimes runs in the middle of the lane.

We are already on the arterial road to Muttaburra. Our boys behave excellently, as expected. We march purposefully in a northerly direction. “You are great! No problem Denis!” Tanja calls out. As we reach the outskirts of the city, I feel a sense of victory coursing through my body. A grid suddenly stretches across the main road and forces us to leave it. We discover a gate, which is thankfully not locked with a lock. We cross the last obstacle without difficulty and leave Longreach behind us. “Hooray! Hooray! Hooray!” we cheer, having completed a long-feared challenge without incident.

DONE

We follow the narrow road as if it was all just a ghost. Horses gallop wildly up to inspect us. Curious, they follow the caravan until they lose interest too. Only a little later we find a wonderful camping spot on a dry creek. Although everything has gone smoothly so far, we feel completely burnt out. There is not a spark of energy left in our bones. We are at the end of our tether. We have covered 223 kilometers in the last eight days. The inspector’s visit got on our last nerve. The city was also grueling. Not to mention the long marches, the heat and the many people. Once again we urgently need a good resting place and hope to be able to stay at Bimbah Station tomorrow. At 40° degrees in the shade, we pull our protective foil into the trees to protect us from the 60° sun rays. Powerless and controlled like a robot, I sit down in the camp chair to study the maps. My gaze fixes on the small dot on the map that will determine whether we find a good resting place tomorrow after 5751 kilometers of running. Bimbah, I read the foreign-sounding word and wonder what kind of people live there?

THE END OUR ENERGY

I have often written about our exhaustion in recent months and weeks, but this time I feel it more deeply, more fundamentally. Tanja and I have had to put up with a lot emotionally and physically recently. I have reported on most of them. We have plenty of opportunity to analyze one problem or another in detail, but due to our efforts there are also things that pile up like on an untidy desk. Due to our lack of energy, this pile of emotions piles up higher and higher until we both believe we can no longer look past it. At the moment I feel like I’m suffocating under a flood of incidents, occurrences, experiences, events, adventures and adventures. I feel as if my mind and all its components are being whirled around in a washing machine. As if the trouser legs and shirtsleeves of the mental underwear were coming together in one big lump. It is not easy to sort out the flood of thoughts. We both sit there, exhausted, and stare at each other for a long time. Not able to do anything productive. A few birds chirp by the nearby dry creek bed. Rufus pants loudly to himself. A small plane flies over our camp. The noise of the engines descends on us from the sky. A cricket chirps and hundreds of ants crawl over our feet. What is wrong with us? Why are we at such a loss? Where is the joy? The fun? The desire for adventure and life? I just don’t have the strength to get myself or us out of this thought hole. Tanja is in no way better off. I am aware that only a longer rest can help us. We have not yet reached our goal. We still have 700 kilometers to go. Although this distance sounds ridiculous compared to the almost 6000 kilometers, it should not be underestimated. We’re not going to collapse just before we reach our destination, are we?