Canning Stock Route to well 12

 

Our days at well 5 refreshed us and while enjoying the rest, it was time to continue. Filling up the empty water containers, and packing up camp, we bid farewell to well 5. the track continued to change every so often, keeping you on your toes. Sections, though sandy, were heavily corrugated, which slowed our slow progress. Others had deep rut marks from vehicles ploughing through when wet. Then the wattle trees would close in again.

Then we were at well 6, Pierre Springs. A welcome grove of white gum trees, a shady camp area with a working well with winch and bucket. Not needing water or a camp site just then, we stopped for a bit, then carried on.

Through to the afternoon, we checked in to well 7 and 8, unrestored wells, with varying amounts of original bits scattered about. By the time we arrived at well8, the day was getting on and we decided this would be as good a camp as any, so that was it for the day. Next morning, the track beckoned, and we were off again.

Weld Spring, or well 9, now part of Glen-Ayle Station, stands off from a set of cattle yards. A windmill at the yards pumps water to the trough for the cattle.

At this location, there is also the remains of John Forrest’s fort, a stone enclosure he built to protect himself from hostile aboriginals.

Continuing on, well 10 was our camp for the night. Another disused well, but good for a camp. With the sunrise turning the horizon pink, then red, and finally the golden orb raised itself into the clear sky, we prepared breakfast and readied ourselves for another day of exploring.

Some way down the track, Lake Aerodrome appeared as we rounded a bend. The dry, Salt Lake shimmered in the desert heat, the track skirted the lakebed, giving us a ringside seat in viewing the salty expanse. Camel footprints led along the shoreline, seemingly fossilized in the crusty surface. Dingo prints were also evident.

The guidebook we were following, reported that around here the dune country began, and it did. Ned and I had a bit of difficulty with one of the larger dunes, struggling to get up it, till we agreed to attack it in his way. Deflating the tires even more, and selecting the right gear, Ned ambled up the soft incline with ease. A lot of the steeper dunes had many holes along the climb, due to others trying to race up with over inflated tires, bouncing their way up. This makes it such a rough ride up for others, rocking side to side, and losing momentum. Having said that, we had no more problems with climbing the many dunes ahead, apart from the rocking, threatening to eject Din out the window.

Passing by well 11, we made our way to 12. this one was a working well. Seizing the opportunity, we had an early day, made camp and soon washing was on the line drying, and I had a complete check over of Ned, making sure all was still tight and no damage had occurred. All was good, but the tarps on the sides were copping a bit of punishment, they were holding together, but torn in a couple of places. They have served us well for over 12 years, and we were thinking of replacing them anyway. This would probably be their last trip.

To Well 5

 

The day started as usual, me packing up and Din going for her daily walk. After picking her up some way down the track, we wandered northward. Track conditions were, as always, changing from stony to damaged washouts to sandy. This made our progress slow, on average, about 15kph, this didn’t bother us. As Din always says, if she can’t clearly see the animal prints on the track, we are going too fast.

Coming to a clear, stony area, for some reason, there were messages, written out in stones, on the side of the track. Some had been there for quite some time, by the dates stated. Someone started it and others followed, adding their own statements.

Well 3A came up, and we stopped for the obligatory photo. Next up, well 4A. at this point of the track, we were entering cattle station country. The previous owners of this property didn’t allow trailers or heavy vehicles on this part of the track, due to many of the said vehicles having gotten stuck and getting the station workers to rescue them. Due to the risk of losing a life, the station banned them from their part of the track. A new route was dozed through the area, which bypassed the worst section, and the new owners relaxed the rules, so now all vehicles can use the station road.

On a sign at well 3 it stated that this part of the track had steep entrances to dry creek crossings, one reason they discouraged trailers and longer vehicles. They wern’t joking. Some of the crossings had Ned scraping his bum on the way out. Not a problem though, with a slow steady approach we scraped our way through. The country would suddenly open up and you passed over clay pans with wide open skies, then it would close in again and you were scraping through tight mulga scrub, then open sandy stretches. Anyone who says traveling through the desert is boring, they don’t know, it is always changing, keeping your interest in your surroundings.

4A was our camp for the night. In the morning, we carried on to well 4, Ned all done up in his desert gear, with extra fuel on the bulbar and sand flag, as well as firewood in front.

  Well 4, also known as Windich Springs, a pleasant billabong with tall gum trees providing shade along the banks. As I approached the edge of the springs, a dingo looked up, startled, from his morning drink. Staid still and looking intently at me for a few seconds, then trotted off a little way and looked again. Finally deciding I wasn’t worth the trouble, he sprinted off into the bush.  

 

 4B next, the track winded through malley scrub, with rough patches, stones littering the ground. Then sandy stretches, crossing some clay pans, the smooth surface felt good under Neds tires, breaking the driving experience, 4B was a little off the main track, we drove up to it, not wishing to miss any wells on our journey. The well was in ruins, only a bit of the original structure collapsed on the ground and the well hole fallen in on itself.  

 Soon, we were at the station border. Passing through the gate, we continued on. Eventually, well 5 came along, a refurbished well, with a hand winch and bucket to get water. With water laid on, we camped up for a couple of days and made the most of it, with the shower set up and fire crackling, heating water. Bread dough was kneaded, and a cake was mixed up. Even done some washing. A good camp all up.

The Canning Stock Route, it begins

 

With permits organized, full of fuel, food cupboards and water tanks full to bursting, we were ready to start our adventure up the longest, and most remote 4wd track in Australia.

 One last thing to get. Our gas bottle was due to run out, and this was our last chance to get a full one for nearly 2000k. We were at Wiluna, the start of The Canning Stock Route. Having just finished shopping at the little shop for last minute supplies, I asked if I could swap a gas bottle. The lady said, no, we have run out. This brought back memories of some years before, when, in the same community, in the same shop, I had had the same conversation getting the same response.

I think, on Tuesday, when the truck comes with supplies she said. I will never rely on Wiluna for getting gas again.

We couldn’t head off without gas, so we went out of town about 20k, to North Pool and camped up for a couple of days, as it was only Sunday. A nice spot as it happened, so we didn’t mind that much.

 Tuesday came around, and it was into town for us. The truck had turned up, but unfortunately, not the gas. Nothing else for it, we had to go to the nearest town with gas, which was Meekatharra, 180k west. Spent a day getting there, and a day getting back. Finally, all was set to get on the track.

Well 1, just out of Wiluna, was our first stop. A quick check of the old well, and what was left of the troughs, we were off. Down the graded road, making the best time we would for some weeks ahead.

The turn off for the track proper came up, we paused for a moment, then it was onward, and we had realy started. Almost immediately, wash outs appeared, and rocky terrain, we were used to it, so pressed on till well 2 appeared. Another look about and it was off again.

The rocks kept coming, it was slow going, just how we like it. Well 3 came along, this one was blasted out of the rock, instead of digging in the soil like the others. Small caves were evident in the rocky hillsides nearby, good shelter for the original peoples of the area back then.

The shadows were getting long, so a clear area was selected for a camp, and the first day of our Canning adventure came to a close.