Cotton Creek,
Rudall River National Park,
Pilbara
We set out from
Georgia Bore around 8.30 in the morning and after 9 kilometres in a westerly direction we came across the Landrover, which had been driven by the two blokes who perished out there in March this year. Virtually nothing had been touched or disturbed. Their personal belongings and their
places where they had died were left as is. To make things worse, the people who came to retrieve the bodies even threw their surgical gloves and other recovery items, which had obviously been contaminated, into the bush. We were unimpressed. The Talawana Track at this point is shocking as corrugations make any speed uncomfortable. These corrugations must be the result of sustained travel by the truck, which delivers fuel drums to
Well 23.
Further along the Talawana a wrecked trailer lay by the side of the road. We endured the shaking and rattles, wondering what was going to fall off. Suddenly we were at an intersection where a great big wide graded road meets the track. A right turn and 21km took us in to Cotton Creek Community (Parnngrurr). I was aware that you had to ring up before entering the community but had my answer lined up if asked. The Community Manager did ask and I said that I had come in to find out what the protocol was with entering the community. He thought this answer was very funny and we got on
well after that. One community elder had 32 dogs lying around his house. We asked another elder about numerous dead camels we had seen on the way in and he replied that they were shot for dog meat. There are around 80 inhabitants at Cotton Creek and at least 500 dogs or thereabouts. Whilst Cotton Creek is not a regular refuelling place they did ask if we wanted diesel. We said yes and then took 50 litres each out of a drum with a
hand pump. One, two three, four…winds of the pump, to get four litres or thereabouts. Who knows how accurate it was at $2 a litre. Then we bought some supplies from the store and then I asked to see the community elder. We wanted access to the back way in to
Rudall River National Park. Cotton Creek is part of the National Park; set a side for traditional use and a No Go area to outsiders. I asked anyway. At first the elder indicated we had to go the long way around. He was worried that it was too isolated and dangerous in view of the recent deaths on the Talawana Track. I explained that I was experienced in travelling to remote
places and pointed to my
grey beard. He pointed to his. He wanted to know what communications we had. I said HF and he shook his head. Then I said Sat phone and his eyes lit up and said “OK, but you be careful because the river might have water in it”. Then I asked which way out of town and he said he would show us. So he commandeered the Managers new Nissan GU with everything on it and showed us the track. We said our farewells and started on the track. Two kilometres from the start point the track divided into 5 tracks. It was then that I discovered that my GPS wasn’t talking to my laptop. So I had to go through the procedure manually. We found the right track eventually. It was very washed out and had not been used for a long time. Part of the track was so overgrown that we had to drive cross-country to get ahead. Always mindful of broken timber and stakes I had to be very careful where I placed the wheels so that we got through safely and that George in his GU could follow in our tracks. When we came to the
Rudall River it was bone dry. A sign facing away from us stated that this area was set aside for aboriginal traditional use only and was not accessible to others.
It was still early afternoon and a printed wooden sign alongside the track indicated a track to
Graphite Valley. So down the track we went for 10km and a dead end. Some very rough sections were encountered and on the way back George took a wrong approach through a creek and cocked a wheel, much to the horror of his wife, Maureen. But he managed to extricate himself from the predicament. I had a mud map and a Hema map on
Rudall River and we were searching for
Kalkan Kalkan soak. We never really found it but found a
waterhole in the general area. Trouble is it was now a camel watering place and they had made a real mess of the area with their droppings. Darkness overtook us and we camped in the camel dung. Which was quite dry, I might add, and which burned OK in the fire.
Rudall River National park is remote and I get the feeling that CALM would rather one did not go there. The only ‘park’ sign was the one in to
Graphite Valley. The rest were crude signs scribbled on 44-gallon drums or hand painted on scrap pieces of tin. The park is quite scenic but not spectacular. This was probably because of the lack of rain. Camels had polluted most of the waterholes but we managed to find a small creek bed out of the main river where there was a swimmable pool and drinkable water. Most tracks a slow and rough but not unmanageable. We spent four days in
Rudall River including a drive up to Desert Queen Baths. The flies drove us insane. We saw no one until the last day when two vehicles were spotted in the distance. At the Desert Queen Baths
campsite we found a dead
dingo hanging from the branch of a tree smelling most foul. Someone was obviously intent on keeping others away. Human or animal!
Now, getting to the baths meant a bit of physical
rock hopping, which put me out of the picture. So while the others went for a walk I opted to drive to a nearby
cave where someone had made a track right up to it on the side of a
hill. From below it looked an n easy drive but once at the top I realised just how steep it was. After taking some pics I put the truck in reverse and let her idle down the slope guiding by means of the mirrors. It was definitely a lot steeper than I had first thought.
We drove out of Rudall that same day and sped on to
Newman along a graded Talawana Road. At
Newman we did touristy things. Camped in the caravan park and met up with other EO forumites. From there we visited
Wanna Munna rock carvings (petroglyphs) and spent a night at
Karijini National Park. We could not do most of the walks but took pics of all the touristy accessible
places and had a good time. Then on to
Tom Price where we drove up a 4x4 track to
the summit of Mt Nameless and a stunning view of
Tom Price, the
mine and the Hamersley Ranges. The following day we did a
mine tour, which was equally breathtaking in just looking at the scale of operations.
Then it was on to Paraburdoo for a refuel and on to the Ashburton Downs road heading for Mt Augustus. We camped on Pingandy Creek that night and some clouds appeared on the horizon. It did not rain however and we were able to make good time towards Mt Augustus the following morning. Some of the vegetation along this way is quite interesting looking like Bonsai trees. George mentioned something about a black cloud and I said it seemed to be drifting the other way. We drove on. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, this little black cloud caught up with us. With rain drops the size of 50cent pieces it bucketed down a blotted our vision completely. We were going nowhere. Twenty minutes later it was all over but there was water gushing out of the hillsides. (For a moment I thought that Andrew MacDonald of “Big Kidz” fame had put a curse on us as he did in the Flinders in 2004). The road was awash with water up to half wheel height. After an hour I still advocated doing nothing and George decided to go for a walk to see what the road looked like further on. It had stopped raining. I rang Mt Augustus Resort on the Sat phone. They gave me the Mt Augustus Station number and I rang the owner, Don. He explained that we would be going nowhere for at least a week if we proceeded towards Mt Augustus as they had had 50mm of rain that day and some the previous week as
well. I asked permission to
camp at Dooley Downs Station we had passed earlier and he said that, that was in order. There was no one living at the station. At Dooley Downs I cleaned the rain gauge out (dead gecko) and measured the rain. We made
camp at the driest spot on the gibber. That night the frogs came out and croaked their merry songs. We took or torches to see them at the edge of the newly created billabong.
The next day the clouds dissipated a bit and a clear day was looming. However, we backtracked the 130km to the Ashburton Downs road again and turned right towards
Meekatharra. I rang Don at Mt Augustus Station again, gave the rain measurement and told him that we were going east. He was very appreciative of the fact that I had called him again.
Somehow we got our maps mixed up and the road to
Meekatharra turned out to be about 200km longer than anticipated and both of us did not have a full load of fuel on board. So we were watching the fuel gauges intensely. Nevertheless, we pussyfooted it in to Meeka arriving there just on dusk. Then the heavens opened up again and it bucketed down. We grabbed the last two motel rooms in town and settled in for a few cold beers and a hearty meal. I had Kangaroo Road Kill, as stated on the menu.