Tropical cyclone Quong had fizzed out over the Exmouth Coast. The dire predictions of bucketing remnant rain over many, many square kilometres of the Gascoyne had not eventuated. The road north had been given the all clear. So after our somewhat raucous evening at the Billabong Roadhouse and Pub (the subject of a previous missive) we retraced our steps all the way back to the point where we had turned off the North-West Coastal Highway to go into Coral Bay.
This time, there was no turning. We were heading north into uncharted country. Our ultimate destination for this sector of the trip was Onslow, but given our flight south, this was well beyond a day's drive. We had instead chosen to limit our journey to about 500 kms, which is usually far further than we would prefer, but needs must. We had booked into Onslow for a few days and knew that would provide us with ample time to have a spell.
The Barradale Rest area was to be tonight's destination. Once past the North-West Cape turn off, the highway suddenly narrowed for reasons quite beyond us.
TC Quong had done some mischief in these latitudes. The result was evident for many kilometres.
In no time at all we had left the flat plains and were making our way through the red dirt ridges
of the northern Gascoyne.
In many places along this stretch of the highway new under road culverts were being installed to prevent a repetition of the wash aways which resulted from TC Olwyn. This was but one of them,
where the length of the detour showed that this task was being taken seriously.
We were back into termite country again
which was not really surprising.
Shortly after crossing the Tropic of Capricorn we were overtaken by three very large road trains all hauling odd looking cylindrical loads. These guys were hooting along....well over the 100kms speed limit. To my annoyance they all pulled off the road some little distance later. I knew that I would have to be alert for the next occasion they wanted to pass. We were still on the narrow section of the highway.
And then 'Murphy' obviously decided we had had more than our share recently. As these three leviathans darkened our mirrors again we passed a blessed 'Overtaking Lane 5 kms Ahead' sign. By juggling our speed I was able to let the three effect their passing manoeuvre in relative comfort. But then came the real surprise. One of the truckies actually came up on Channel 18 on our CB radio and thanked me for what he had been able to see were my efforts to allow them to pass without delay. This was a real first. We will often receive the alternating flashes of turning indicators after letting a large truck through, the universal signal of thanks, but a chat on the radio was something new, and very welcome.
There is actually a post-script to this incident, but I'll save that for the next instalment.
Not long after this we crossed into Ashburton Shire. We had finally made it into the Pilbara. Today's leg of the journey was almost at an end, thank goodness.....I was tired....and that's a polite understatement!
After a few more kilometres of increasingly hilly country,
we crossed the Yannarie River and pulled into our overnight stop, the very spacious Barradale Rest Area.
This is pictured in the Camps Book as a shady, green area near the river. And indeed it is, but we chose not to attempt to access these sites which I could see in the distance.
There was a very good reason for this, as you will shortly see. And it was a shame. This area did look inviting,
and the views over the sand islets and trees of the shallow but flowing Yannarie River were exceptional.
But there were two reasons why we stayed exactly where we were. One is permanent...the traffic noise over the nearby Yannarie River bridge is almost constant until quite late in the evening.
The other is decidedly seasonal, but very much in evidence when we arrived.
Mud, glorious mud. The surfaces of all the access tracks down to the river side camping grounds were nothing but thick, red, sticky mud.
Even on the firmer, higher ground we had chosen, the evidence of the recent rains was quite clear. We, too, had left our mark.
For now, it was an early tea and a very early night. The events of the past few days were definitely catching up with us both. As the night sky cleared and the stars of the Milky Way draped their shimmering glow across the firmament, the Mobile Marshies crashed into the sleep of the righteous.
This is a really good spot. The notation in our book about this particular rest area is more than positive. We hope to revisit it on a drier and less challenged occasion.
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