Even the road trains thundering across the Yannarie River bridge did not disturb the slumbering Marshies. The Barradale Rest area was good for us, and again proved that we are now completely self-sufficient.
The only thing I've yet to do to prove our prowess as free campers is set up the generator....I did service it and check its operation before leaving Carnarvon, but will only have to use it if we are out in the wilds and need the air conditioner on (for Max of course). This need does not look immediately imminent.
Apart from the fact that these rest areas have no cost, another great thing about on overnight stay in a free camp is that the pre-departure pack up takes very little effort....legs up, one 12 volt lead stowed, and we were away.
Within no time at all, back on the North-West Coastal Highway, it was obvious we were certainly into The Pilbara.
The flat and open grazing plains of the northern Gascoyne had transformed into a panorama of distant hills and mesas, all hazy blue in the early morning light.
The red sand hill ridges of the North-West Cape area had by now given way to those of rocky ironstone.
How the scenery had changed.
The silhouette of the ridges of distant ranges greeted us around every bend.
After less than an hour we crossed the still swollen Ashburton River,
before pulling in for a fuel stop at the Nanutarra Roadhouse about 150 kms north-east of Coral Bay.
This had been one of the TC Quong flight options I had considered. The caravan park next to the roadhouse itself looked more than adequate,
and the nearby camp BBQ area was shady, green and inviting.
An overnight stay here, with the potential for an al fresco drink or meal on the roadhouse verandah, had distinct promise. I did not actually go into the roadhouse itself, but Liz did so to pay for our fuel and reported that the staff were most polite and the interior was spick and span.
One of the reasons I had not made it indoors was the fact that I had spotted a road train on the apron hauling one of the large cylinders identical to those with which had passed us the day before. Now was my chance to find out just what these were. I would never have guessed what they were in a month of Sundays....huge reels of very thick mooring rope, all bound for the port in Karratha. And I mean thick....each reel weighed in at over 20 tonnes!
The driver of this rig was a most personable young chap who undertook to pass on my appreciation for the radio contact by one of his colleagues yesterday and his message of thanks for the manner in which we accommodated their passing manoeuvres. Apparently we had been lucky. It transpired that only one of the three drivers involved was a man of good manners.....as this bloke said, "The other two wouldn't have given you the time of day." One was enough!
So, with a mystery solved, another good overnight stop plotted for future reference, and the Cruiser topped up,
we farewelled the Nanutarra Roadhouse and again headed north. After no more than a kilometre, I realised again that our decision to flee TC Quong to the south had been the right one. As I explained in my previous 'cyclone missive' a few weeks ago, this was where the swollen Ashburton was still spilling our across its flood plain, which included the highway. Had we made it this far, we would have been trapped here for at least three days.
Until this morning, the highway had been impassable to all but the large road trains.
But as you have also previously read, we were able to inch our way through the water and were soon on our way rejoicing....both this crossing and our previous decision making. The waters of the Ashburton did haunt us later in Onslow, as you will see.
The highway road signs
and the scenery continued to remind us we were definitely in The Pilbara.
And we did not have the road to ourselves. Fortunately this local lizard had the good sense to realise we could not stop on sixpence...it was off across the road at the gallop, or should that be 'at the wriggle'? How ever described, its progress was sagely swift.
Now we were well into today's relatively short drive of just under 200 kms.
Many to whom we had spoken about or plans to visit Onslow had reacted quite unfavourably. "Why would you want to go there?" was a common response, and I have to confess we had initially decided to skip the town, particularly given that it is a round trip of over 150 kms in and out.
But we had been persuaded by our friends Margaret and Andrew (the previous Carnarvon park managers) to make the trip, if for no other reason than to see the extraordinary War Memorial on the beach front near the caravan park. Why not, we thought. It was really not that much of a detour off the main highway, and we did have the time. We were glad we did.
The very good road (it's amazing how good roads are when mining companies are involved) between the main highway and Onslow town traverses the generally flat, open plains of the Cane River Conservation Park for almost its entire distance.
In but a short time we came across the first of what are a real feature of this area.
Termite mounds dot this landscape in their thousands. Even in the far north of Queensland and the Northern Territory we had never seen them so densely distributed. No wonder there wasn't a tree in sight!
They went on for kilometre after kilometre, all the way into Onslow. It was almost eerie.
We drove along open mouthed until we reached the causeway across two of the evaporation pans which are part of the complex of drying beds producing salt for the local mine (more of this later).
We had arrived.
Had we made the right decision? This was the burning question on our minds as we drove through the stand of gums in the main street
at the end of which we found the entrance to the Ocean View Caravan Park, our new home for the next three nights.
As Liz made her way across to the donga which serves as the park office and I looked about me, I had feelings very similar to those I experienced on our arrival into Normanton for the first time, now over three years ago.....this was to be a place we would either really like or detest.
On Andrew's advice we had booked a beach front site. They are not actually 'beach' front as you will see.....'ocean' front is a better description.
To my delight, our site was a doddle on which to back the van and set up, despite the small challenge of a very high slab which threatened to cave in a tyre side wall if the angles were not right.
The grass between us and the seafront public walkway was struggling a little, as was much of the park vegetation....TC Olwyn had seen to that but we didn't care. We sere here and set,
and looking from under our awning, we indeed had ocean views. And this is where the Ashburton bit us again...it was dumping its muddy brown flood waters into the sea at its mouth quite near Onslow. 'Our ocean' was anything but blue, but it did improve.
But with the good amenities block and camp BBQ a very short and convenient 'hobble' (as far as yours truly was concerned) from our site, we were more than content.
I soon shook off the rigours of the road and cooked an early BBQ tea
before we settled back to enjoy our first Onslow sunset over the rocky and muddy flats of Beadon Bay at low tide.
As we watched the moon rise in the east (as it does) to highlight the fishing trawler in the bay (who needs to go to Broome for a 'stairway to the moon'?).
and sipped on a well earned evening libation (foot elevated on The Matron's orders, of course), we decided that this was 'what it is all about'.
We already had a good feeling about Onslow. Nothing over the next two days changed that....we had made a good decision, and a couple of relatively easy days were eagerly anticipated.
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