95 octane too. We couldn’t complain.
The road out of Oodnadatta gave
some indication as to what was to
come. Corrugations, with sand drifts
but at this point at least no bulldust
– that talcum powder type stuff that
weirdly has some of the properties of
water and is treacherous to any bike
rider. The 200 or so kilometres to
William Creek in roughly a souther-
ly direction were the most remote;
in some ways, the most challenging,
and yet the most interesting.
Tying in with our 50km then stop
rule we came across the Algebuckina
rail bridge. The impressive structure
built for the old Ghan is over half a ki-
lometre long to span the Neales River
when it floods. Here we found signs
of life, a number of animal tracks;
mostly cows and dingoes. This was
because the Neales still had water in
it, quite strange in one of the driest
parts of Australia, what was even
stranger was the croaking of frogs. It
defied all logic.
We met a couple of older Irish tou-
rists here, they were telling us how
rough the road was further on, mind
you, they were in a Toyota Corolla,
rental of course. I wanted to be there
when they explained the condition of
the vehicle to Europecar.
The track did get rough, mostly due
to the corrugations and the occasio-
nal rocky patch. It wasn’t anything
the GS couldn’t handle. We continued
south and the road became much be-
tter, we’d obviously caught the grader
again allowing us to reach the old
Peake Telegraph station and homes-
tead in good time. These ruins were
also the original base camp for the
early explorer, Ernest Giles. What re-
mains of the station gives clear indi-
cation to the tough life faced here in
the 1800’s. The whole complex, inclu-
ding a small copper mining commu-
nity closed down in the early 1900’s.
The day was still quite young, the
temperature had already climbed
into the mid-30’s (Celsius). It was
hard to comprehend that we were
already heading well into the winter
months. We continued, discovering
more ruins; Edward Creek and Warri-
na the two standouts. Both were for-
mer railway sidings and were usually
located quite close to natural bores
from the Artesian Basin. The land
around here was also quite different
and becoming quite wooded in pla-
ces. The trees barely hanging on to
life, clumped around the numerous
‘creeks’ that occasionally flow from
the Davenport Range.
Approaching William Creek, we
did catch the grader, or at least whe-
re it had last been working. This was
Easter Monday, there was no way we
would see workers today. Working
out here was a tough life, the small
teams usually spend months slowly
moving across the desert. Very li-
ttle contact with the outside world.
Lonely and isolated. I wondered if I
would like to experience it just once.
I quickly answered myself to the af-
firmative.
The track was undergoing major
works and was down to one very nar-
row strip of dirt. Not normally a pro-
blem yet this time it was on the side of
a steep hill, no problem for a bike but
anything larger would be in trouble.
Beyond this area, the track had been
well groomed and was almost like
the Autobahn – sit down and cruise
at 100kph, a great chance to rest the
legs, until we hit the areas where the
track still had moister in its surface.
Cresting the last hill, we caught si-
ght of the metropolis that is William
Creek and the strip of bitumen that
runs down the middle of it – pure
heaven. William Creek is really no-
thing more than a pub in the middle
of the world’s largest station (farm).
Although it is recognised as a town,
albeit with a permanent population
of around 4 (along with a few tran-
sient workers), it really does sit in the
middle of Anna Creek station on the
edge of Lake Eyre, one of the world’s
largest dry lakes.
It goes without saying that no soo-
ner had we stopped that I was in the
pub ordering a pint, it was downed
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