Trephina Gorge

After Arltunga, we stopped at Trephina Gorge, which was beautiful with the white Ghost Gums standing out brightly against the red walls of the gorge.



We hiked up the wash and stopped briefly for a snack. I don't have any pictures to prove it, but there were numerous small (non-biting) black flies that would buzz around our faces and hitch rides on our hats, several dozen at a time. Since it was winter, and cold as the dickens, I was surprised by this, and can only imagine what its like there in summer.



A magnificent Ghost Gum, with me at the base for scale.





The area was quite scenic, and we took a hike up into the surrounding hills for some nice views.





From this vantage point we are looking down directly into gorge.

Arltunga

We decided on a whim to visit the Arltunga Historical Preserve, which was down a 33 km dirt road. Ordinarily we would not have attempted this in our rental car, but we were told the road had been freshly graded only the week before, so we gave it a go. The red sign in the distance says "Beware: Road Trains".



Arltunga is an old ghost town - actually, the remains of a government-run gold mine. The setting was truly one of the harshest places I've ever been. Bitterly cold in the winter, and I imagine, blistering in the summer, with very little water and incredibly isolated.






Lots of the original mine equipment was still there.



A windowsill of treasures. I can't believe this stuff hasn't all disappeared into pockets yet.



The local jail cell, a tiny free-standing building.



Some of the mines were open for exploration.



The tunnels were tiny and low. Something like 260 oz of gold were mined here out of many, many tons of ore, all dug by hand. This was considered a very productive mine in its day, but it seems like an enormous amount of work and struggle for a small gain to me.



Despite the harshness of the area, we managed to see some amazing birds here. This tiny guy is a Splendid Fairy-Wren, shockingly bright against the dry vegetation.

Ross River Resort continued

We woke up early and decided to hike up the hill behind the resort before breakfast. Clicky for a bigger image.



This was our little cabin.



These are Galahs, which are charming and beautiful parrots in the Cockatoo family. The Aussies seem a little indifferent to them, perhaps because they are so common, but I never got tired of watching them clown around. Galah, by the way, is also a not-very-complementary Aussie slang term meaning 'fool' or 'idiot'.



Don't you wish this was the scene at your bird feeder? There are at least 25 Galahs there, along with some doves and a Sulphur Crested Cockatoo on the ground below.



There were also these Australian Ringnecks just behind the feeder.



Some horses wandered by; they used to be ridden by guests of the resort, but were set loose when insurance became prohibitive. They still swing by for carrots and other treats.



This is Pam and Ernie, the couple from Alice Springs that we chatted with the previous evening. Ernie had an interesting and varied history, and had been a true Aussie Cowboy, and Pam was retired after teaching for 17 years.



And this is just to show that even the smallest, most familiar things can be a little different in a foreign country.

I Sail on a Concrete Sea

We have a rich truckin' tradition here in the states, but I think Australia wins with their massive Road Trains. They go places with their 3 and 4 trailer trucks you'd never see attempted here in the states. We've seen them on horribly corrugated dirt roads and tiny single lane highways that had potholes big enough to swallow our rental car. These guys mean business, which is evident from the gigantic "roo bars" (also known as bull bars, or nudge bars) on the grill to shove any hapless animals out of the way.




This is part of the Ross Highway... one of those single laners I mentioned. Note that there is no center stripe...the asphalt here is really only one car-width, so you drive right down the center of the road until oncoming traffic appears (slightly spooky when the road is curvy or hilly). At that point you play chicken until, at the last moment (and at speed!), you both pull over with one set of wheels on the dirt shoulder, and one set of wheels on the asphalt, zipping by each other in a hail of dust and flying gravel. Road Trains, on the other hand, don't move for anyone, and intimidate other vehicles into fleeing all the way onto the gravel.



One of the many massive 4 trailer trucks we saw along the way.



This one's only got 3 trailers, but it illustrates the difficulties in passing a vehicle like this with a terribly underpowered rental car. Even with light traffic and straight stretches of road, it takes a long time just to pass a truck this big, let alone find a window of opportunity, especially since they tend to drive toward the center, and weave a lot.

Ross River Resort

We decided, on a whim, to stay the night at the Ross River Resort, some 85 km east of Alice Springs, and explore the East MacDonnell ranges a bit the following day. We drove the lonely Ross Highway as the sun was setting; ahead is one of the picturesque 'gaps' in the ranges.




The resort was built around an old homestead dating from 1898, with the original buildings forming the common rooms, and guest quarters in little cabins built much later. There were many nice old photographs showing the history of the place on the walls.



The bar area where we waited before dinner.



Dinner was hot and filling; nice for a rather frigid evening. I have a well-charred chicken parmesan and Darrin has garlic shrimp.



This was the sort of place where there are no TVs or phones in the little cabins, so everyone hangs out in the comfortable common room by the fire and chats or reads. We met an absolutely charming retired couple from Alice Springs and stayed up later than we'd intended, talking about everything from national health care to cowboy movies.

In this picture we were trying to capture the interesting construction style, where the relatively unfinished ceiling/roof floats above stucco walls that just sort of end.

Barrow Creek Telegraph Station

Barrow Creek was a repeater station opened in 1872 as part of the massive overland telegraph line that ran across the country from Port Augusta to Darwin, and ultimately connected Australia with London. It was a massive undertaking, crossing some 2000 miles of unsettled (and virtually unexplored) back country.




The buildings were open, so we wandered around a bit, trying to imagine what it would be like to live here, dealing with the extremes of the weather and the utter remoteness of the place.



We had lunch at the Wauchope Hotel.



This was one of those places where people leave a bill tacked to the wall (visible in the background above the doorway), so when they come back, they always have money to buy a beer. I had a "salad roll" which was essentially a hamburger without the burger. Poor Darrin is suffering from some serious hat-head.

Devils Marbles

Not too far out of Tennant Creek is an area called Devil's Marbles. The local people believe these boulders to be the eggs of the Rainbow Serpent.




If you can't tell from my posture, it was unbelievably cold, despite the sun; we found out later that it had been in the low 20's at dawn that morning. Hadn't we, just the day before, been lounging in a hot spring in lovely 80 degree weather?




I expect everyone who visits here takes a picture like this.




Devils Marbles is a large deposit of granite that had made its way to the surface via erosion. The area experiences extremes in temperatures (we can attest to that!) which have cracked the rock and caused spalling, creating the rounded shapes. It appears that someone scattered or placed these boulders here, but really they eroded in place.




Its interesting how often the erosion process has left these rocks balancing on small points.




This one is particularly remarkable; its very nearly perfect. The granite has a high iron content, which accounts for the reddish color of the exposed surfaces. The fresher inside surface of the crack is a light grey.

Tennant Creek

The Australian Bustard is one of those birds I felt I should have seen by now, and it was almost a relief to find this pair along the highway. They are handsome creatures, with a 6-7 foot wingspan.




We played leapfrog with this giant boat several times during the drive, passing it (which was difficult, despite the lack of traffic) then being passed when we stopped for gas or lunch. There is something surreal about a giant boat traveling through the desert, especially when you know you are hundreds of miles, in any direction, away from water.




This shot was stolen from the car as we sped by, but kind of captures the feel of the area. The Aborigines we encountered seemed lost and aimless; trapped between the old way of life, which I imagine is mostly gone, and modern Australia, which they seem to have no place in. We saw only a handful of Aborigines who were employed; the rest were... just hanging out; walking along the highways, sitting on the medians, gathered on corners.




We stopped in Tennant Creek and spent the night at the Bluestone Motor Inn on the southern edge of town. When we arrived there was a giant mob disgorging from a tour bus directly into the motel restaurant, so we headed back downtown to Margo Miles for some pizza instead. Tennant Creek was a little... rough. Lots of inebriated Aborigines wandering about, some of whom were loudly arguing and/or beating each other up. While we were eating one of the other customers had to run out of the restaurant to check on his truck because someone was messing with it. Its probably one of the few places in all of Australia where I felt somewhat uncomfortable.




The building that the restaurant was in was old in a pleasant way; reminding me of a small-town cafe in Texas.




We had the Margo Special pizza. Check out the inch-thick layer of ham!