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In spring 2023 I set out to drive from Melbourne to south-west WA, then up to Broome (check out this blog if you missed that leg of the adventure). By mid-September I was driving from Perth to Broome via the heart of the mighty Pilbara. It was harder than I anticipated.... DRIVING THE INDIAN OCEAN ROADThe city of Perth keeps spreading along its southern and northern coastal areas. Once, Alkimos was a bush block where no-one went, let alone lived. Now the train line goes there, and so do the many many residents whose new rooves keep replacing the bush. It's also the stepping off point for the Indian Ocean Drive, a way better way of driving north than the deadly dull Brand Highway. Rather than endless monotonous scrub punctuated by perfunctory roadhouses (hello Cataby and Eaneabba), the not-so-new Indian Ocean Drive has joined previous isolated fishing towns to a main road that offers tantalising glimpses of its namesake. Off I went...I hadn't gone very far before I came across a gigantic flock of Carnaby's black cockatoos wheeling around. I had to stop and try to capture them.  Birds and flowers abound on this drive, if you take the time to stop and see. The Indian Ocean Drive is also a convenient way to visit the must-see Pinacles at Nambung NP. This truly is something else, and warrants a few hours at least. Here are some glimpses: On this particular journey, the historic town and fishing port of Dongara was a perfect stopover before I headed inland. Dongara can be windy, and it certainly was that night, even though I was happily sheltered in the lee of a beach sandhill. Here I am, all set for dinner prep followed by an early night in the snug Troopy.  Here's a two-minute synopsis of the best glimpses of the my first day on this track: DONGARA TO WOOLEEN STATIONI was keen to get going the next morning, and see that red dirt. My path took me back about ten kms, past the turn off for the Brand Highway - then I was heading due east through wheat and sheep farming territory to the seemingly shrinking town of Mullewa. Not a whole lot to see there but whatever you do, don't miss Helen Ansell's art gallery (helenansell.com/visit/ ) and coffee outlet. This place was humming, and rightly so. Helen's art is vibrant, and adds a dash of panache to the town.  After Mullewa, I headed north on what was soon to be unsealed road. It was a longish drive but perfectly good. At long last, I made a right hand turn, and headed over the river. I was on my way to Wooleen Station. This was big country, and the birds reigned supreme: At last I rolled in to Wooleen Station: I was here for a four-day bird photography workshop with Shelley Pearson and five fellow photographers. It went really well and I have written a blog specifically about the stay in the homestead, and the wonderful birds there (https://www.rosaliebebee.com.au/blog/bird-photography-at-wooleen-station). That stay at Wooleen was really the highlight of this entire adventure. The light out there is stunningly clear. Here's a visual summary of the day's adventure: FROM WOOLEEN TO NALLAN STATIONSeveral days later I left Wooleen and headed east along a very good unsealed road towards Cue. There were frequent roadworks along the way, and those human encounters punctuated the solitude of this big open ochre country. But soon enough, you're back on the blacktop, pulling into the back blocks of Cue, Cue is a small town in the Mid West region of Western Australia, located 620 km north-east of Perth (population less than 200). It was a gold centre in its hey day, and fantastic historic buildings are still to be seen. It's well-worth a stop here, not least because the sun brings out all the colour in the stonework of those lovely old buildings. But my home for the next two nights was a little further north along the highway: Nallan Station is an easy ten kms beyond town, and very accessible from the highway. It has a small but excellent camp ground - and some terrific bird-watching spots at the various wells dotted around the property, as well as Lake Nallan just slightly further north again. I spent many hours sitting in the Troopy at those drinking holes, watching the cattle amid the cow pats, and the lace monitors, waiting for birds - and especially Bourke's parrots - to grace my lens. It doesn't sound like much, but it was bliss to be out there in the red dust. No Burke's parrots unfortunately, but plenty of flashing colours and feathered spectacles. It sure beats going to work! Here's a round up of the days at Nallan... NALLAN TO NEWMAN - WHERE THINGS GO PEAR-SHAPED...The Spring weather was absolutely superb, and I was so enjoying this drive. I pulled out of Nallan and headed north, driving this day to Karalundi, an indigenous-owned caravan park with powered sites (https://www.karalundipark.com.au/): Established in 2011, our park is an enterprise of Karalundi College, a Christian Aboriginal boarding school offering free education to Aboriginal students. Karalundi embodies a unique school community spirit amidst the remote landscapes of Western Australia, strictly adhering to alcohol, tobacco, and drug-free policies. The Cafe wasn't opened when I was there but the park was small and in excellent condition with great bathrooms and and a pristine camp kitchen. Probably one of the best stopovers I had, and a chance to refill the water tank and get some washing done.  I headed off next morning, stopping for a photo op as I cross the 26th parallel:  I pulled into a parking area some three hours later, only to discover that this was an excellent billabong teeming with birds, especially zebra finches. Even though I had been driving through what seemed a very arid environment, here was a perfectly green and shady spot on the banks of the Gascoyne River. I would have been unsurprised if a jolly swagman had pitched his tent nearby. I wandered about and enjoyed the break, and the birds. The coordinated for this spot are -25.578745, 119.238362, just south of the turn off to the Sandfire mine site. Apart from that, the drive was uneventful, save an encounter with two wedge-tailed eagles and a kite feasting on roadkill. I rolled into Newman late in the afternoon, and I was reminded just how massive the mining endeavour is in the Pilbara. Even though I lived in the Pilbara many moons ago, the trucks, heavy vehicles and men in "hi viz" work gear are now impossible to ignore. Newman is quite a large town, and quite scrappy in my opinion - the main shopping area is quite unkempt, and there was a slightly unsettling feeling about it. Even so, because I was planning to go to Karijini for the next couple of days, I headed to the supermarket and really lashed out on filling up the National Luna 50 with fresh produce and cold drinks - it was really coming out hot. Like, really hot. Worse still, the one caravan park in Newman is a community run but remotely managed square kilometre of shadeless bitumen. It was stinking hot, and even after the sun went down, we were sitting on a cauldron of searing macadam. It was probably the most soul-less place I have ever stayed.  I unloaded the shopping, made dinner and spoke with some lovely neighbours travelling from Victoria, and tried to make the best of it, knowing I was out of here tomorrow. Then things got worse: I noticed the temperature on the fridge was very slow to lower after I had had it open to stock the provisions...and as the evening progressed it just stayed at room temperature. I knew something was very wrong, and not having a fridge during the next few searing days in Karijini was not going to be good. Towns are extremely few and far between up there, and most barely have the basics, never mind fridge repairs and the like. This was not a happy situation. TO KARAJINIAfter not much sleep, another searing day dawned and I tried to get someone to look at the fridge, having discarded my lukewarm fresh produce. Not much luck: everything here is geared to the mining industry, and that's where the fridge repair people were. What to do? In desperation I went to two local hardware stores who were most helpful but didn't have much to offer. No joy from the National Luna people, even though the fridge was under warranty and less than 6 months old: Broome was where I could go to the closest qualified repairer. This was the beginning of a saga with NL - absolutely hopeless. I needed a different stop gap solution: a replacement fridge. The Troopy fit out (by Drifta) is designed to accommodate the NL50 fridge which has a very narrow profile. I found some new fridges in the town, but none had the right profile. Then I stumbled upon a Dometic 12L console. I figured I could tie it down in the "corridor" in the back of the Troopy. It was small but it would do: at least I'd have some cold water on board, and a few fresh essentials. I sorted my self out and hit the road again. Turns out this little fridge was a life saver - worked like a charm and never missed a beat. Besides, I was off to Karijini for two nights. I didn't need this faulty fridge nonsense  Once I got going, I was reminded just how brilliant the Pilbara is: just magic. The bright blue sky, white trees, ochre and purple hills. This really is one of my favourite landscapes. It wasn't that far to Dales Campground, and I set myself up in the allocated bay for two nights. Once again, the heat was searing - no shade to be had. But what a view. And lying in bed listening to the dingoes howling was unforgettable, and not scary at all.  The next morning I headed to Dale's Gorge for walk and a swim before the heat...I didn't walk as far as I planned because the heat really came on. It was high thirties, pushing forty, and what I didn't know was that this was an unseasonal early bout of heat that would last for at least the next three weeks. It really took the fun out being in the north-west, but there was little I could do except seek shelter as best I could. Dale's Gorge was a good start, so I spent the morning down there: However, as soon as I re-merged up to the car park, the heat was full blast, and I couldn't see how I could enjoy sitting back at the camp site all day waiting for the sun to go down. I decided to go for a drive - at least then I would have relief from the air-conditioning. I drove over to the Eco Village, thinking I might score an air-conditioned hut for the night, but it was school holidays and there was just no chance. So I decided the next best opportunity was to drive on to the town of Tom Price and try and get some shade there in the caravan park. Once there, I did manage to find a sapling under which to hover, and had several cold showers to try and stay cool. Everyone was feeling it, so I just had to make the best of it. I had no-one to whinge to anyway! OUT TO CHEELA PLAINSI had more Pilbara adventures ahead of me: I had booked a couple of nights at Cheela Plains Station Stay. It had been recommended to be by several people and I wanted to check it out. But first, the drive out there. Oh my, this was something else...ochre expanses with yellow-green tufts of spinifex; purple mounds and mesas. You could really breathe out there, even when the air was hot! Arriving at Cheela Plains is hilarious: you're driving along the remotest of roads, then without warning, you see signage flutes advertising barista coffee...huh? And there it is, turn off to the left, head over the hill, and Cheela Plains campground lies before you: it's not huge, rather small, really. An oval of grass around which are dotted decent trees and campsites. You pull up there and the oasis unfolds for you: rustic but very clean facilities; a comprehensive camp kitchen, and best of all if you're feeling a bit over camping: a bistro that serves a set menu every night.  I was feeling markedly better by the time evening came: it wasn't just the heat, but Cheela felt like a community. I shared a camp kitchen dinner with an excellent couple from Ballarat. I told then my fridge saga - they were sympathetic. Then they told me how they were halfway across the Northern Territory and their entire car caught fire and burnt to the ground before their eyes. They could have chucked it in and gone home - but they decided to borrow a car, restock and keep going. What great people, and it rather put my troubles in perspective. Even so, camping often has its challenges, that's part of the fun of it, until it becomes deadly serious. You just have to keep rolling with the punches until you can't. Anyway, there were more challenges ahead, but for now I was happy, feeling like I really was an at oasis for a couple of days.  The next day I took myself on (another) adventure: Cheela has a self-drive 4WD guided tour a few kms away: I was up for it, even though the mercury was pushing at least 40C. Just being out there on that red dirt was the go. I had a brilliant day communing with the cattle, spying the birds at the waterholes, and driving out to some well-marked spots where the water was no longer. But there was water in some of the swimming pools and I decided a swim was the best idea, though I waited for other people to turn up - good idea to be a little careful in such a remote place. As it happened I spent a good hour in one of the swimming holes, chatting to a Victorian couple about all things travel and politics, and how we thought the Indigenous Voice to Parliament referendum might go. It was wonderful to have their company and amazing that you can strike up great conversations with fellow travellers absolutely miles from everywhere.. That night I tried the bistro and it was brilliant. Seating was allocated at long tables (partly to make sure everyone has company, I suspect), and I shared a meal with an exquisite young family from Fremantle. The Dad and I, as it turned out, had worked at two universities in common. The meal was exquisite, replete with a choice of a glass of red or white wine. Turns out the hype about Cheela was absolutely true and I would go back there in a heartbeat.  Pilbara chic: lunch served with panache at Cheela Plains Station Stay. I also got to spend some time with a local on that second afternoon: an enormous lace monitor crept out from under a rock, and entertained us for some time before disappearing again. Incredible prehistoric-looking creatures with whipping purple tongues. Spending two nights at Cheela was such a good decision: I felt happy there, and welcome. Even cool on occasion! It's definitely a place I will return to when I get the chance.  Here is my visual summary of those happy days: BACK ON THE TRACK: NORTH TO HEDLAND The intense heat continued and I noticed that the cabinetry in the Troopy was not performing well: in fact, it was bowing horribly, and drawers would not close. This was extremely disappointing because we had paid handsomely for Drifta to give us a top line fitout. Not only was the fridge a dud, the cabinetry was not as it should be! I felt sick about the whole thing. Had we made a huge mistake? No good worrying now, just had to keep going! As I headed off, I revelled yet again in the landscape: ochre, purple, and yellow-green (some highlights in the video below). I headed back through Tom Price and Newman, and past Karijini, turning left and heading north. Almost immediately, I went through the Albert Tognolini Pass: breathtaking! Then the glories of the landscape continued. But as you approach Port hedland, the landscape becomes much more mundane, and then you hit the salt pans and the urban sprawl of Hedland. I had spent two years in Hedland many years earlier, and I think it's fair to say the town hasn't improved much. I went looking for a coffee - not easy to find - the best thing I saw in town were the ospreys on the light poles along the ocean front. I scored a berth at the Point Cook caravan park where I camped on a hot surface again, I know it's very difficult to maintain grass sites, but a few trees and some softer surfaces would make a big improvement. I put the awning out in an attempt to get shade. It helped a little. The cold shower helped a lot more.  But is was only for a night, so...small mercies! AND SO TO BROOMEThe next day's driving was pretty dull: the road between Hedland and Broome is not riveting, and there's just so much of it. At best, there is low scrub here and there, and it's very flat. Note that there is only one roadhouse right on the highway, and that's Sandfire (which is how it felt). Broome of course is something else: now you're in the Kimberley and it's more humid and tropical, and there are amazing beaches (with crocodiles), interesting eateries and more shopping outlets. Apart from Newman, this was the fist reasonably sized town I had seen since Perth. The fridge repair was a priority, so I duly delivered the dud, and continued to be pleased with my Dometic 12L console. I made camp for a couple of nights at the Cable Beach Caravan Park - sounds exotic but it isn't: it's a moderately-priced and very well run park - good value! What's more, it had a pool and trees, and the shade cloth underfoot, while not perfect, made for a softer and cooler surface. Well done! It was also not cheek by jowl with a million neighbours, and that was a welcome relief.  My purpose in coming to Broome was to do a birding course at the Broome Bird Observatory, and that's where I would be for the next five days: I was looking forward to it. I would meet some new people, get to know the waders and the shorebirds, and have a chance at deluxe bird photography opportunities. That experience deserves its own blog. For now, this leg of the adventure was done...it was a time for respite, then further adventures.
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