Joined: Nov 2007
Location: Hamilton, New Zealand
Birtles vs Australia
Elliston to Lincoln National Park
In which we see ugly Sheep, Little Bobby loses Brownie Points, Hope is fading,
we frighten a Snake, and we farewell an Old Friend.
The green and pleasant lands continue. No wonder the rest of SA is so dry,
the Eyre peninsular gets all the rain.
Not that these shoreline succulents need it.
Crikey, these sheep are ugly! Rams at a Princess Leia look-alike contest.
Don’t think there’s a winner here, though the farmer must like them - each
one has a blue heart-shaped mark on its back.
Farmer McDougall got really cross when he found out Little Bobby hadn’t
turned off the pump when the trough was full !
Sheringa Beach has sheer cliffs, pounding surf and white sand dunes.
It’s so pleasant that Birtles wants to go nowhere else.
Ho-humm, just another beautiful beach all to myself.
I have a hard time keeping Birtles away from the cliff edge.
A lovely crop of Yellow ready for harvesting.
In NSW we passed through a location optimistically named Mount Hope.
SA’s version is not so optimistic. How long before they lose all hope?
Port Lincoln is not a big city but it is big enough for me to get lost.
The woman at the servo doesn't know where the RAA is, although she
thinks there is a “car place” three streets down on the left just after
a pedestrian crossing. She is correct, but as I don't really need a new
Toyota at the moment, I carry on looking until, success, the colours of
the RAC building come into view.
Armed with a map of South East Australia we are ready for the next
major navigation challenge - getting out of Port Lincoln and into the
Lincoln National Park for the night. The Park’s self-registration station
flummoxes me with its Day of Entry question. With no need of date,
day or time for so long, it could be Shrove Tuesday for all I know,
so I take a stab at it and write in Today.
The camp spot at Lincoln NP is perfect. Right by the steep cliffs,
with Port Lincoln on the other side of the bay.
A glossy snake is already here, politely moving away when we arrive.
A couple of blurry photographs of Slippy are all I manage to get before
he disappears into the bushes.
Mental note: wear Tevas for nocturnal motion(s).
Just as we are both cooling down, getting into the mood of the spot,
some nomads arrive. I glare at them and mutter “I'll just have to make
do, that's all". They leave. Whether it is the making do, the socks drying
over Birtles' mirrors, or the thrusting stabs with the pocket knife doesn’t
matter - Slippy and I are left in solitude.
Funny ol' world, in’it? Kids are not allowed to ride their bikes on the road,
or swing on a rope, or face challenges greater than the automatic doors
at Coles, yet I can set up camp with a snake, next to the world's highest
long-drop - and not a Health and Safety Officer in sight.
When the sun goes down, real darkness takes over. The faint glow-worm
lights across the water at Port Lincoln are useful only to warn me of the
direction in which it would be sensible not to walk, and the anorexic moon
is fast disappearing in the west. A small campfire gives a subtle ambiance
to the scene, doubling as a Koala deterent. As a further precaution,
I loosen Grimpeur’s zip ties.
Crunchy is added to the flames. Crunchy has been with me since
Thargomindah, adopted from the general store along with a jar of
Marmite that has long since been left at some camp kitchen along the
way. Crunchy has sustained me for weeks, I would be pounds lighter
if not for him, but there is no room for sentiment in this camping game.
Besides, I now have a newer, slimmer model, a small jar of smooth
When the flames of Crunchy’s pyre die down I zip up the tent and settle
for the night, playing some Van Morrison to cover the slithering sound
coming from the bushes - “Slim Slow Slider” seems appropriate.
To be continued …..
BigZoner #096 (English Chapter)
"Keep brotherhood till die"
platypus121 screwed with this post 11-26-2012 at 01:50 AM