little notice of what had occurred.
Had I dreamt of rain?
Over breakfast we discussed the
plans for the day. Listening to Ian
and Ray, I’d winked reassurance to
Megan. The boys discussed the possi-
bilities of becoming stuck in a remote
area. Megan knew my thoughts, we’d
secretly smiled with each other. It is
what it is! Let’s enjoy the experience.
Preparing to leave Tjukayirla we’d
learnt that the road had been closed
from where we had come. Too wet,
too dangerous for travellers. The
road ahead wasn’t affected, only 3mm
of rain had fallen overnight. Just
enough to help keep the dust down.
Riding had a smooth fluid flow.
Megan had taken the lead. We looked
for an area we needed to visit. Ever
darkening skies cast a sombre mood,
rain was returning.
Camp Paradise! A post-apocalyptic
world of trucks and strange machin-
ery. It was what we’d been looking
for; a camp of kitchens, toilets and
bunks. Headed by an expensive look-
ing caravan marking a place of im-
portance.
Riding in we’d been greeted,
opened armed, by Andy Sutcliffe. A
veteran of many Finke Desert Race’s
as well as African overland trucking,
Andy was here working as a contrac-
tor for the Shire of Laverton; main-
taining the numerous equipment
needed to work the desert tracks.
He’d also been on hand when I came
to grief a year ago. The regular crew
were on their one-week break leaving
Camp Paradise with an eerie, desert-
ed feel. Intrigue had filled me; the
lifestyle; the work; the adventure.
I’d wanted to know more. Andy’s
tales of the desert; exploration and
adventure kept me enthralled as I
sipped a cup of coffee. Disappointed
to leave, I knew we must. Visible in
the near distance, rain would soon
be upon us. Andy had told us to ex-
pect the road conditions to worsen
as we left the Shire of Laverton and
enter the Ngaanyatjarraku Shire, the
TRAVERSE
22
Warburton area.
Doubt had drifted through our
group, as we moved on. The occasion-
al corrugation and mudhole didn’t
deter from the fact that the road was
in very good condition. Riding easy,
the journey had become ever more
enjoyable although, the pace had
quickened; Ian had taken the lead.
More than ever I’d felt he was deter-
mined to exit the Great Central Road
as quickly as possible.
A few hours from departing Andy’s
camp we’d pulled from the track and
noticed the tell-tale signs of animal
life. Fresh camel tracks wandered
off into the scrub. A solitary bull per-
haps. We’d been warned about the
camels, especially at this time of the
year, mating season. Often very ag-
gressive, a bull camel can easily run
down those that get too close. These
beasts aren’t native to Australia and
are the product of being let free in
the 1800 and early 1900’s. Despite be-
ing wild (feral), they are considered
to be the purest in the world and are
sought after by the Middle East.
Hard top! Amazingly, in the mid-
dle of nowhere, we’d come across a