When we turn off the Gascoyne Junction/Carnarvon road to head down the dirt track to the Gascoyne River we can see how much rain has fallen while we were away. There's lots of water laying in the low parts of the track.
I started to worry about our river crossing but if you've got the right gear, there's no need to worry at all. In fact, it's just that little bit more exciting!
Now THAT'S a 4WD !!
We arrive at the minesite and nothing seems to have changed very much. Although we could see the creek had flowed quite heavily.
The Aloe Vera (donated by the local cattle station master a few years ago who said it's good for sandfly bites) is thriving.
And the wattles are blooming everywhere now that's it's winter.
This time, as Woody isn't with us, at mealtimes we are joined by a fox. We can't resist throwing him scraps even though he looks well fed. He's been dining on the wildlife, no doubt; something we dislike them for intensely. But it's exciting having a wild animal come so close.
Digging goes well and it's not long before we have a load to take into town. Glenn brings it from the mine on the 6WD Mercedes, across the river to the woolshed where the Kenworth is waiting. The Mercedes has a Hiab (crane) which he uses to transfer the bags of rock to the other truck. It's an hour and a half drive to Carnarvon.
There's still a bit of weather about giving us spectacular skies.
After a couple of weeks and a few tons dug we head north for the Crazy Lace Agate Mine. But on the way we meet up with some friends.
Not quite sure how we managed to find them, right in the middle of the outback, miles from anywhere. It was a combination of GPS and ESP.
After a couple of days of fossicking and lots of laughing we continue on our way north to the Pilbara Region and there's still rain about. This rainbow lasted for ages and cheered up the somewhat ordinary scenery.
Crazy Lace Agate is one of my favourites. You can read about it here.
Fortunately, there is a windmill nearby, 8kms down the track, where we can get water for washing, . Can you believe there are graffiti artists this far out? The tree trunk hanging over the side is for visiting ducks who probably wouldn't be able to get out, otherwise.
The soil up here is red dust. It isn't gravel, it isn't sand, it is literally DUST! When we first arrive it is quite compacted after the rain but it doesn't take long to loosen up. It gets into absolutely everything and it's pointless to try and fight it. Our camps always include a shower cubicle so that we can wash at the end of each day and sleep in clean bedding. But it doesn't take long after stepping out of the tent in the morning before the dust has 'taken you over'.
The first year I came up here to the Pilbara Region I learned very quickly to just live with it. And I wrote this:
The Dust
I breathe this red dust,
I eat this red dust,
It’s in my eyes, up my nose,
In my ears and between my toes.
It’s under my nails and in my hair,
The red dust it’s bloody everywhere!
I had a black/grey dog, now he’s red;
Thought I’d got a tan but it’s dust instead.
It’s in my book and in my bag,
It’s in my knickers and in my swag.
But I love it and accept it,
It’s all part of being here;
I’m in Mother Nature’s clutches;
I am safe, I am red, She is near.
