I suspect many may find the title of this blog a little odd.....a holiday! Isn't life a constant holiday at the moment?
No it's not, as I have explained before. It is 'life on the road', and given the fact that we had been static here in Carnarvon for two and a half months, we were interested to see how we would react to our four day break when we headed south to Port Denison to go looking for the renown WA wildflowers.
The answer is easy. It felt no different from the holidays we had taken during our normal working lives. Even the unusual task (these days) of sorting and packing clothes, food and grog was almost fun.
where cattle and sheep somehow manage to survive quite well normally in this rather bleak landscape. I say normally, because this season the dry winter has forced many station managers to sent much of their herd south for agistment. Large cattle road trains have been a constant feature of the traffic passing the end of The Plantation for some weeks now.
We took a break at the Overlander Roadhouse, a point approximately halfway along our trip of 500 kilometres, where I was more than pleased that this most unusual rig pulled in to allow me to take a proper photo. I had attempted to do so as we passed it. The result was abysmal. The occupants of this vintage vehicle are obviously used to being the subject of attention...they gave us a big wave as I snapped away.
So after a quick munch and stretch of the legs we were off again. We had booked a cabin in the Dongera - Denison Holiday Park, one we know well from our previous visit. Liz, in particular was looking forward to catching up with the park managers, Pam and Johnno to swap notes and chew the fat over some aspects of park management.
Sunset drinks on the front deck. Luxury. There was only one real snag. The weather was less than co-operative. For our four nights in Port Denison, where a good sunset is as spectacular as any along the west coast, it was completely socked in with heavy cloud. We made the most of it in any event. Nothing was going to interfere with the pleasure of this short interlude of holiday luxury.
As we drove into town and past the Priory Hotel chalk board we were delighted to see that the Sunday night pizzas were on and that music would be provided by Warwick Trant. He had been the troubadour on the occasion we enjoyed the Sunday atmosphere of the Priory when here with the Vogts, and he is very good.
This time there was no 'who's driving' coin toss....we were both on holidays. The local taxi arrived right on time. What a delight is was to ride in a spotlessly clean cab with a white Anglo-Saxon driver who spoke good English and knew exactly where he was going (not that that is very far in Port Denison).
It was like a time warp. Same staff,
same table
As we drove into town and past the Priory Hotel chalk board we were delighted to see that the Sunday night pizzas were on and that music would be provided by Warwick Trant. He had been the troubadour on the occasion we enjoyed the Sunday atmosphere of the Priory when here with the Vogts, and he is very good.
This time there was no 'who's driving' coin toss....we were both on holidays. The local taxi arrived right on time. What a delight is was to ride in a spotlessly clean cab with a white Anglo-Saxon driver who spoke good English and knew exactly where he was going (not that that is very far in Port Denison).
It was like a time warp. Same staff,
same table
and same old Warwick, who despite suffering from a shocking cold, entertained us royally. His last set, which included a five minute twelve bar blues piece, was outstanding (for a blues lover....yours truly!) The pizzas were up to scratch and the bubbles were fizzy and cold. We had a fine evening. It was a real treat to revisit a venue and enjoy it as much as we had the first time.
We had chosen to make Port Denison our base because it is relatively close to a large area of Western Australia which is know for its wildflowers. Mind you, I use the words 'relatively close' advisedly......the four recommended 'wildflower way' day trips out of Port Denison range from the shortest of 270 kms to a whopping blast around the countryside of just under 500 kms, a real 'view on the run' sortie.
Like many things in life, good planning is important to maximise chances of success. We had already been in touch with the Geraldton Information Centre and were a little discouraged by their advice. It appeared that the unseasonably hot weather we had been enjoying in Carnarvon was widespread along the wildflower way. The pink Everlastings, in particular, were beginning to burn off. We knew when we left Carnarvon that our quest may be a close run thing indeed.
We had also been advised that the locations of good areas of blooms can be quite specific to the current season and may well change from day to day. This was all becoming much more difficult that I had imagined. Once again, I had fallen from the 'tourist brochure photograph' trap. I had visions of swanning blithely through kilometre after kilometre of massed fields of flowers, such as those depicted in this Internet shot.
The reality proved to be entirely different. In an effort to maximise our chances, we made our first port of call the Port Denison Information Centre where the most helpful staff ran off the latest daily outlook flier.
This highly detailed document, the product of reports collated from throughout the area on a daily basis during the season, provides commendable detail of flower types and the best locations in which to find them. This advice was also refreshingly frank about areas where the flowers were in decline.....a most impressive service, one we found emulated in other towns in the wildflower area. Armed with this update and a myriad of other brochures and maps, we sifted through all the various alternatives. Where to go? This choice was driven by another imperative.
Good old Murphy had descended on us yet again. Some 250 kms short of Port Denison on our southward trip, the cruiser's fuel filter warning light intruded on the calm of the morning. I did make much of the fact that Liz was driving at the time...she almost fell for the accusation that it had been her fault!
In any event, the light was stationary, a good sign (again a relative word). Previous experience and advice had taught us that we could travel another 1,000 kms or so without engine damage before replacing the filter. My concerns lay in the fact that this advice had always been general rather definitive. I was nervous. I hate warning lights, especially those which relate to a potentially catastrophic failure. An early morning call had resulted in the cruiser being booked into Geraldton Toyota at their earliest convenient time....mid afternoon.
Great. Do we sit around until then and waste a precious day or take a punt and extend the 60 kms direct trip to Geraldton by 150 kms or so. The real issue was that if the light began to flash, it would be imperative to stop immediately. The prospect of arriving in Geraldton atop a tow truck was an unlikely but not impossible reality.
Weighing up all the factors we decided on the trip out through Mingenew and the nearby (again relative) Coalseam National Park before making our way back to the Brand Highway through Walkaway and thence on to Geraldton.
Obviously, given the tone of this missive to date, we managed without mishap, but I have to report that each kilometre I drove with that damned light on the dash was one of some tension. Bugger...this was supposed to be a highlight day. Liz was her usual philosophical self....easy when you are not ultimately responsible!
So off on the road to Mingenew we went, through the lush countryside of the upper whealtbelt, which was just such a change from what we had been seeing for the past two and a half months.
Stands of roadside wattle were showing the first flush of flowering, but these were not the blooms we had come to see. We can do that at home.
The outskirts of Mingenew finally (yet another relative use of a word....every kilometre was a long way for me today!) hove into view.
The entrance to the town is lined with a series of very picturesque roadside banners, all locally topical, of which this is one example. They differ front and back and are all extremely well done.
Beyond this we came into Mingenew's main street, an unremarkable avenue but for three things which stuck us.
This long row of CBH railway grain trucks left little doubt that Mingenew is central to a productive agricultural area. The local CBH silos are impressive.
And then we were also taken by the difference between the town's two hostelries where the rather grand Commercial Hotel
stands in stark contrast to the comparatively meek looking Mingenew Motel. As we drove back through this same town from the other direction we found that there is much more to it than the main street (as is usually the case) including the silos and an impressive sporting complex, but for now we were more intersted in finding the local tourist information centre.
This we did, to be told the sad news that our concerns about the demise of the pink Everlastings was correct, but that there were still a few patches of the 'yellows' to be found in the Coalseam National Park, some 30 kms to the north of Mingenew (and en route to Geraldton!) Almost, I suspect as a sop for my obviously crestfallen demeanour, the charming information lass did promise that we would not be disappointed with the other scenery on offer at Coalseam, the site of WA's first major coal discovery.
Off we went, along a road which quickly degenerated from a two lane bitumen carriageway to the sort of thing we were used to in outback Queensland. But at least the shoulders of this road were well graded and level with the hard surface. Heading bush during overtaking was no problem for us experienced travellers!
We were soon climbing into the hills of the National park
where the bitumen disappeared and we were bashing along on the dirt, but it was well graded and completely free of the dreaded corrugations. I suspect the volume of traffic along this road at this time of the year prompts regular grading attention.
The lass at the Mingenew information centre was right in all she told us, including the best spots to go to see the remainder of the flowers. She was also correct about the spectacular views on offer and the fact that the 'pinks' were gone. What's that song title....'Two out of three ain't bad'? Nope, I wanted three out of three, but it was not to be.
From the car park at the top of the Coalseam range, we headed out along the nearby walking trail. I was a man on a mission, a veritable wildflower bloodhound. Here were the first of them, a scattered paltry lot. It has to get better than this, surely.
Well, marginally to start with on the edge of the path
and then a few more in the scrub, but still not the shimmering fields of colour I had expected.
As we neared the cliff top I could see that the bad news about the 'pinks' was sadly true. This patch was nothing more than blanched falling petals.
Ah, well, let's take in the cliff top views and hope they are worth the effort. Indeed they were. Here below us was the bed of the Irwin River, currently dry, a far cry from the torrents we had seen staining the ocean at Port Denison as the muddy water poured from the river mouth some months previously.
The view was equally spectacular looking to the north.
This area is the site of the first major coal find in WA. Discovered in 1846, the initial hopes for the deposits proved false and a major mine was never developed although for some years shafts were sunk and miners were active.
As depicted in this trackside artwork, miners of the time would often spend their days off by climbing from the mine sites at the base of the cliff to spent time enjoying the same views as we were at the top of it, where billy tea and barbecued 'snaggers' was the picnic fare.
As we made our way back to the cruiser we did not came across any better displays than we had already seen. Oh, well, let's try the lower areas of 'Miners Camp', a national parks camping ground where we may have better luck.
Not so. The yellows were still in bloom
but the pinks were definitely gone. We could only imagine what this thick blanket of flowers would have looked like a week before our arrival where all the white in this photo would have been a brilliant pink.
This was all that remained of them.
We came but we did not see. It was time to ford the trickle that was the Irwin of this day
and stop briefly to gaze back across the river valley to the face of the cliff on which we had recently been standing
where the dark stains of coal can be seen amongst the strata of red clay. So much for our first sortie in search of the elusive flowers of the west.
It was time to make our way west through the green fields of the northern wheatbelt to Geraldton. The fuel filter light was still unblinking....would we make it?
As I said earlier, you would be right in thinking that had we not done so the tenor of this missive would have been vastly different. I'll confess to being mightily relieved as I pulled into the service bay at Geraldton Toyota. It was their problem now.
As cruiser was fixed, Liz took the opportunity to make a number of shopping forays whilst we were in 'the big smoke'. I was happy to wander around the nearby Geraldton docks, a pastime of which I never tire.
And I have to say that despite our lack of flower success, this sign near the loading by of the Geraldton post office did lift my spirits considerably. Couldn't be clearer!
So back to Port Denison and drinks on the balcony. After a couple of individual photos
to prove we were on absolute beachfront
we though we should have a crack at setting up our little camera on its wobbly tripod for a group shot. Well done, Liz.
By this stage I had become considerably more philosophical about our quest than I had been earlier. I decided that wildflower watching can obviously akin to a poor fishing outing when the experienced console themselves with the thought that "tomorrow is another day."
We had chosen to make Port Denison our base because it is relatively close to a large area of Western Australia which is know for its wildflowers. Mind you, I use the words 'relatively close' advisedly......the four recommended 'wildflower way' day trips out of Port Denison range from the shortest of 270 kms to a whopping blast around the countryside of just under 500 kms, a real 'view on the run' sortie.
Like many things in life, good planning is important to maximise chances of success. We had already been in touch with the Geraldton Information Centre and were a little discouraged by their advice. It appeared that the unseasonably hot weather we had been enjoying in Carnarvon was widespread along the wildflower way. The pink Everlastings, in particular, were beginning to burn off. We knew when we left Carnarvon that our quest may be a close run thing indeed.
We had also been advised that the locations of good areas of blooms can be quite specific to the current season and may well change from day to day. This was all becoming much more difficult that I had imagined. Once again, I had fallen from the 'tourist brochure photograph' trap. I had visions of swanning blithely through kilometre after kilometre of massed fields of flowers, such as those depicted in this Internet shot.
The reality proved to be entirely different. In an effort to maximise our chances, we made our first port of call the Port Denison Information Centre where the most helpful staff ran off the latest daily outlook flier.
This highly detailed document, the product of reports collated from throughout the area on a daily basis during the season, provides commendable detail of flower types and the best locations in which to find them. This advice was also refreshingly frank about areas where the flowers were in decline.....a most impressive service, one we found emulated in other towns in the wildflower area. Armed with this update and a myriad of other brochures and maps, we sifted through all the various alternatives. Where to go? This choice was driven by another imperative.
Good old Murphy had descended on us yet again. Some 250 kms short of Port Denison on our southward trip, the cruiser's fuel filter warning light intruded on the calm of the morning. I did make much of the fact that Liz was driving at the time...she almost fell for the accusation that it had been her fault!
In any event, the light was stationary, a good sign (again a relative word). Previous experience and advice had taught us that we could travel another 1,000 kms or so without engine damage before replacing the filter. My concerns lay in the fact that this advice had always been general rather definitive. I was nervous. I hate warning lights, especially those which relate to a potentially catastrophic failure. An early morning call had resulted in the cruiser being booked into Geraldton Toyota at their earliest convenient time....mid afternoon.
Great. Do we sit around until then and waste a precious day or take a punt and extend the 60 kms direct trip to Geraldton by 150 kms or so. The real issue was that if the light began to flash, it would be imperative to stop immediately. The prospect of arriving in Geraldton atop a tow truck was an unlikely but not impossible reality.
Weighing up all the factors we decided on the trip out through Mingenew and the nearby (again relative) Coalseam National Park before making our way back to the Brand Highway through Walkaway and thence on to Geraldton.
Obviously, given the tone of this missive to date, we managed without mishap, but I have to report that each kilometre I drove with that damned light on the dash was one of some tension. Bugger...this was supposed to be a highlight day. Liz was her usual philosophical self....easy when you are not ultimately responsible!
So off on the road to Mingenew we went, through the lush countryside of the upper whealtbelt, which was just such a change from what we had been seeing for the past two and a half months.
Stands of roadside wattle were showing the first flush of flowering, but these were not the blooms we had come to see. We can do that at home.
The outskirts of Mingenew finally (yet another relative use of a word....every kilometre was a long way for me today!) hove into view.
The entrance to the town is lined with a series of very picturesque roadside banners, all locally topical, of which this is one example. They differ front and back and are all extremely well done.
Beyond this we came into Mingenew's main street, an unremarkable avenue but for three things which stuck us.
This long row of CBH railway grain trucks left little doubt that Mingenew is central to a productive agricultural area. The local CBH silos are impressive.
And then we were also taken by the difference between the town's two hostelries where the rather grand Commercial Hotel
stands in stark contrast to the comparatively meek looking Mingenew Motel. As we drove back through this same town from the other direction we found that there is much more to it than the main street (as is usually the case) including the silos and an impressive sporting complex, but for now we were more intersted in finding the local tourist information centre.
This we did, to be told the sad news that our concerns about the demise of the pink Everlastings was correct, but that there were still a few patches of the 'yellows' to be found in the Coalseam National Park, some 30 kms to the north of Mingenew (and en route to Geraldton!) Almost, I suspect as a sop for my obviously crestfallen demeanour, the charming information lass did promise that we would not be disappointed with the other scenery on offer at Coalseam, the site of WA's first major coal discovery.
Off we went, along a road which quickly degenerated from a two lane bitumen carriageway to the sort of thing we were used to in outback Queensland. But at least the shoulders of this road were well graded and level with the hard surface. Heading bush during overtaking was no problem for us experienced travellers!
We were soon climbing into the hills of the National park
where the bitumen disappeared and we were bashing along on the dirt, but it was well graded and completely free of the dreaded corrugations. I suspect the volume of traffic along this road at this time of the year prompts regular grading attention.
The lass at the Mingenew information centre was right in all she told us, including the best spots to go to see the remainder of the flowers. She was also correct about the spectacular views on offer and the fact that the 'pinks' were gone. What's that song title....'Two out of three ain't bad'? Nope, I wanted three out of three, but it was not to be.
From the car park at the top of the Coalseam range, we headed out along the nearby walking trail. I was a man on a mission, a veritable wildflower bloodhound. Here were the first of them, a scattered paltry lot. It has to get better than this, surely.
Well, marginally to start with on the edge of the path
and then a few more in the scrub, but still not the shimmering fields of colour I had expected.
As we neared the cliff top I could see that the bad news about the 'pinks' was sadly true. This patch was nothing more than blanched falling petals.
Ah, well, let's take in the cliff top views and hope they are worth the effort. Indeed they were. Here below us was the bed of the Irwin River, currently dry, a far cry from the torrents we had seen staining the ocean at Port Denison as the muddy water poured from the river mouth some months previously.
The view was equally spectacular looking to the north.
This area is the site of the first major coal find in WA. Discovered in 1846, the initial hopes for the deposits proved false and a major mine was never developed although for some years shafts were sunk and miners were active.
As depicted in this trackside artwork, miners of the time would often spend their days off by climbing from the mine sites at the base of the cliff to spent time enjoying the same views as we were at the top of it, where billy tea and barbecued 'snaggers' was the picnic fare.
As we made our way back to the cruiser we did not came across any better displays than we had already seen. Oh, well, let's try the lower areas of 'Miners Camp', a national parks camping ground where we may have better luck.
Not so. The yellows were still in bloom
but the pinks were definitely gone. We could only imagine what this thick blanket of flowers would have looked like a week before our arrival where all the white in this photo would have been a brilliant pink.
This was all that remained of them.
We came but we did not see. It was time to ford the trickle that was the Irwin of this day
and stop briefly to gaze back across the river valley to the face of the cliff on which we had recently been standing
where the dark stains of coal can be seen amongst the strata of red clay. So much for our first sortie in search of the elusive flowers of the west.
It was time to make our way west through the green fields of the northern wheatbelt to Geraldton. The fuel filter light was still unblinking....would we make it?
As I said earlier, you would be right in thinking that had we not done so the tenor of this missive would have been vastly different. I'll confess to being mightily relieved as I pulled into the service bay at Geraldton Toyota. It was their problem now.
As cruiser was fixed, Liz took the opportunity to make a number of shopping forays whilst we were in 'the big smoke'. I was happy to wander around the nearby Geraldton docks, a pastime of which I never tire.
And I have to say that despite our lack of flower success, this sign near the loading by of the Geraldton post office did lift my spirits considerably. Couldn't be clearer!
So back to Port Denison and drinks on the balcony. After a couple of individual photos
to prove we were on absolute beachfront
we though we should have a crack at setting up our little camera on its wobbly tripod for a group shot. Well done, Liz.
By this stage I had become considerably more philosophical about our quest than I had been earlier. I decided that wildflower watching can obviously akin to a poor fishing outing when the experienced console themselves with the thought that "tomorrow is another day."
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