Just before leaving The Ridge we had a delightful surprise.....the unexpected arrival into our park of our good Polish friends from Kurrimine Beach frolics, Jadzia and Jerry.
What better than to catch up over afternoon nibbles and glass or two in the camp hall. It was just lovely to see them again and swap travel yarns.
But tomorrow was to be a big day, just a tad shy of 500 kms and still some swollen rivers to cross. An early night was in order followed by an equally early breakfast which Max decided had to include him. And then, of course, he was up to his usual tricks on a travel morning...hiding, prowling around outside on his lead for as long as he can....anything to avoid getting into his cage.
Max has yet to learn that we are right onto his chicanery, and with him safely tucked away, it was out onto The Castlereagh Highway yet again, this time bound for Walgett.
This first 50 kms of our day's journey flashed by as the highway took us past the long grasses of the grazing plains, and the wildflowers, all of which had benefited from the heavy rains which had plagued our progress south.
Before leaving The Ridge, we had confirmed that the Namoi River, which had been flowing over the road bridge on the outskirts of Walgett, had now dropped, but it was still a relief to discover that this was in fact the case.
Given the hour, we passed through a very sleepy Walgett with ease and turned our head to the west. The Castlereagh now gave way to the Kamilaroi Highway which would take us through Brewarrina and on to Bourke.
Not far out of Walgett we passed yet another reminder of the deluge which had preceded us through this part of the country. This, believe it or not, is the approach to the site of what is normally a free camping spot on the side of the highway.
And as you can see, the only folk who could camp here at the moment would have to be in a boat!
It really had been wet and as we approached Brewarrina we knew that our next river crossing would be the Barwon (which we had learnt when we were last here is actually the headwater of the mighty Darling River), but all the information to hand indicated that this would not present a problem.
And our research proved correct. Wider than we had seen it before, muddy and strongly flowing as it was, at least the Barwon was now contained within its banks and well below the road level. With only the Darling River crossing at Wilcania to go, we felt that by now we had finally left our travelling travails behind us, flood wise at least.
We continued to marvel at the lushness of the grasses as we made our way further west across the normally sparingly vegetated plains of outback northern NSW
and by now yours truly was a little spent.....it was time for a change of pilot. Liz was happy to take us into Bourke.
This was a welcome sign indeed. By now we had travelled well over 350 kms but knew we had still some distance to go for the day,
something of which we were reminded as we left Bourke and the Kamilaroi and joined the northern stretch of the Kidman Way.
As we had seen throughout our trip south from Far North Queensland, the rain had encouraged a profusion of wildflowers in many parts of the country, and this leg between Bourke and Cobar was no exception. How this country comes to life after a good drink!
But no matter how pretty the plains had become, we were more than pleased to finally see this sign in our mirrors
and make our way along the very familiar main street of Cobar to the park at its western end.
This was to be our third stay in this park, but this time we were in for something of a shock. Those of you who follow our adventures closely will recall that two years ago our arrival into Kurrimine Beach and our usual site 12 was marred by the 'neighbours from hell' who refused to move their boat trailer off our parking area and made life generally miserable until they left two days later.
Well, bugger me, here they were again.....fortunately well removed from our site in the park, and equally fortunately we spent our stay here without any contact. But it just goes to show what a small place this country can be!
Here in Cobar the weather gods again turned against us, this time in form of howling westerly gales, sweeping all before them across the Barrier Highway, directly opposite to the way we needed to travel. It was cheaper to sit tight in Cobar for another day than to use untold extra litres of fuel bashing our way west into the teeth of these winds, which is exactly what we did. I have to say the spell was not unwelcome, but we now know Cobar very well and we were keen to push on.
Cobar to Broken Hill is another long day (by our standards at least) all 470 kms of it, and it is old hat....we have travelled this route in both directions a few times now. Again we were on the road early heading west into the distant haze......
......and we weren't the only ones up and about in the wan light and long shadows of the early morn. We had seen emus with clutches of chicks on several previous occasions, but this was a very close encounter (and you all know what I think of emus when it comes to intelligence!). Our progress come to an abrupt halt until the road had cleared.
Not to be outdone, it was not long before that other icon of our Australian Coat of Arms was making its presence felt and challenging our right to this patch of the bitumen. It was just a day for wildlife.
Even here along the Barrier Highway there was remaining evidence of the extent of the rain. Flooded low lying areas
and a constant series of roadside wash-aways became familiar sights as we pushed on ever westwards.
As predicted, the Darling River crossing at Wilcania presented no problems and after a short break at this midway point
it was off again for the remaining 200 kms to Broken Hill. As we left Wilcania we came across another sight which was a real reminder of our home State.....endless stretches of the purple blooms of Salvation Jane, otherwise knows as Patterson's Curse because of the harm it does to stock which graze on it. But it does make for a spectacle when in flower.....a 'pretty pest'.
Finally, we pulled into our chosen park at Broken Hill and happily occupied a drive-thu right next to the amenities block at its far end. This is not the prettiest place in the park, but this was but an overnight stay before we changed direction to travel south to Wentworth, and, frankly the benefit of not having to unhitch far outweighed the lack of grass and shade.
Tomorrow was to be a new adventure. The Silver City Highway south to Wentworth is one we had never traversed before. The gypsy in us both was well satisfied with the prospect.
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