long and narrow white plain. An
unnamed salt pan, a dried lake,
amongst the dunes, providing a
highway that stretched south-south
east for seventeen or so kilometres.
A welcome respite from the deep red
sand, it lasted not long enough before
we turned right, again into the dunes
before reaching the corner of three
states.
Within the space of an hour we’d
traversed four border crossings and
had reached the corner named for
Poeppel. Arguably the toughest to
reach, it was also perhaps one of the
most accessible. Four-wheel drives
of all shapes and sizes, motorcycles
of all denominations, and even a
rumoured Suzuki Swift were coming
and going as if on a country highway.
It felt remote yet felt so connected to
civilisation. Not for the first time did
I wonder what the early surveyors
would think of present times.
Mild amusement floated off with
the campfire smoke as we discussed
following the 26th parallel to the last
remaining corner. Somewhere south-
west of Uluru; that red rock in the
middle of the continent, lays Survey-
or Generals Corner. The most re-
mote, the most inhospitable of them
all, we laughed and decided ‘no’. This
unusual corner would have to wait.
TRAVERSE 109