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| Ok. I don't want to be your friend, is that clear? |
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| I said: IS THAT CLEAR?!?!?!!!!! |
Lil's bit:I was a bit grouchy today. Not sure if it was the wine or the period but it was all about the not being able to run. I tried, or have been trying, to stay positive. Mostly so Tim's enjoyment of the Trail isn't affected by me being all mopey, but also becuase it's quite boring being a mopey person. I dropped him off at the gate so he could continue on where we left off yesterday. I drove back towards Cradock and then in on a dirt track that was a bit hairy in places after the rain. Big ruts in the road where trucks had sploshed through the mud. But I made it. As far as a field of sheep. They were all crowded around the gate I was supposed to be driving through, so I thought I'd sit and wait for Tim to catch up so I didn't set them all free and make the farmer grumpy. I was already a bit paranoid as there was a dead sheep, quite fresh, at the side of the road. It wasn't me! Honest!
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| Check out Shaman Sheep in the middle. He's wearing Mohair. (He's got mo hair than anyone else, get it?) |
So Tim appeared in my rear vision mirror. To save the day/open the gate. We met up again a bit further down the track for oranges and powerade. And then off again to meet up, finally, at the 20-ish km mark at Kanyaka (pronounced Kan-i-ka), the site of an old sheep station. The ruins were quite extensive and pretty interesting. But the best bit was the beautiful waterhole nearby. It really is quite special, in a place that is so dry, to come across a permanent water supply. Because they're often situated in such beautiful places - trees, big rocks, gorges. You can see why they would become sacred places for the local aboriginal people.
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| Here he comes to save the day! Vewy vewy slowly. |
We went from there back down another dirt road towards Buckaringa Camp site. We went through Simmonston, one of the towns that was promised The Ghan, only for it to be rerouted. That was just a pile of rubble, a bit less interesting than Kanyaka, but we didn't really get out and have a proper look. Too hungry. Lily needs food. Lily grouchy. We carried on about another kilometre...until we reached a creek WITH WATER IN IT! Yay for creeks with water in them! Unfortunately for us, this one was a creek with no bridge, so it ran right over the road. Hmmm. Should we risk it? Maybe if we had a 4WD we could have given it a crack. But in the van? Our home? Maybe not. So we turned back. Hello again Simmonston. Back towards Quorn.
Lunch at the train station car park (one of those Puffing Billy tourist-type tourist trains, it's called Pichi-Richi), hobble around in circles to find a loo to no avail and we head towards Warren Gorge (via Dutchmans Stern...a VERY small National Park. Named after a particularly stern Dutchman? who knows....).
Ahhhh, Warren Gorge. A pretty damn special place. We're camped at the foot of a cliff surrounded by wildflowers and apostlebirds. We'll stay two nights, thanks!
Tim's bit: Run started well. It had been drizzling but stopped as soon as I started moving. The first few kms were on a little dirt road running next to a wide creek, with big boulders looking slick and black because of the rain. It's amazing how big the creek beds are. Even those without water in them are often 10 or 20 metres across, and show signs of just how much water they must carry when it really floods. And since every couple of kilometres there's a sign saying "Floodway" I guess it's pretty regularly.
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| No photos please, I'm drying my tongue. |
Came out onto the main road, then back onto a dirt track. Despite being just a 4WD track between two paddocks, it was lovely running. For a while a couple of kangaroos stood in the road watching me coming, then there was a blaze of fluroescent green as a flock of budgerigars took off and did a tight low circle across the track between me and the roos. A postcard moment, and then the roos, with a few other family members following, bounded off into the paddock. I kept running and saw the van, bright green kayaks on top, pass the end of the track. I waved, but don't imagine Lily could see me.
Turned the corner and saw Lily parked facing a big mob of sheep all milling around the gate across the road, with one freshly dead sheep about ten metres behind her, in the middle of the road. What to make of this scene? Lily nods out the window, makes a joke about worrying that the farmer might think she killed his sheep, and would I mind opening the gate. A few arm waves and the sheep collectively scramble out of the way, the gate is negotiated. Too early for a break, see you in a bit.
Trot on; not bad. Good roads. Feet a bit sore. Achilles not too bad. Front of right foot: not too bad. Developing a sore spot at the base of my big toe on my left foot, though. That's how it is, running like this: constantly checking in, managing little injuries and ensuring they don't become big injuries.
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| Great photo, Lily. You've obviously got something going on with rear views today. |
I got to the end of the track and couldn't remember whether I was supposed to go right or left to get to the carpark where I was meeting Lily. I was hoping I would see a sign saying "Kanyaka homestead 400m" or a sign with a big white P (for "parking") on a blue background, but no such luck. I wandered around for a little bit then decided that the terrain to my right - uphill - looked right. After a few minutes, the signs appeared, and then the van, and Lily. Solid run. Second day solo - still finding a rhythm.
Run
Time (hr:min:sec): 2:07:35
Distance (km): 19.6
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| Watch out for those exclamation marks!!! When they chase you into a deep, uneven ruin, you may bump your head on a ladder hanging horizontally under the ceiling. And then a large ice maker may erupt on you, leading you to mime cross-country skiing while alone. Weird. |
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| This place is a ruin. |
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