Old Ghan Railway

An early start over a hot cuppa for yours truly as the sun made its way skyward, allowed me the luxury of some planning time with the documentation I had gathered prior to the trip. In the twelve months preceding our departure, I had written to tourist information centres in all of the places
on our proposed route, indicating our intention to travel through their area and the type of activities we would most like to pursue. I listed bush walking and National Parks as the top of the interests list, but also included local history and general sightseeing.

Using this information and some gathered upon arrival at our excellent camping venue, I was able to piece together a plan of attack. This was confirmed with the other half of the planning team, once her cup of tea had taken effect. Our plan, therefore, was to see those things we considered to be of value in the city on this, our first day and then go to the places of interest outside of the city on the subsequent days.

Chief among the "things to do and see", was a trip on the Old Ghan Railway.

Ablutions completed and breakfast destroyed, we travelled to the southern outskirts of Alice Springs to where the Old Ghan Railway Preservation Society Inc. had set up their headquarters at the old Sturt siding. Sturt was the original name of Alice Springs, but it was changed to the current one in the early part of this century. The Old Ghan Railway Preservation Society is a group of volunteers who love trains and want to save the old carriages from extinction. They have set up the old siding in heritage colours and have included an interesting museum on the history of the Ghan and train travel in the Territory.

Using an old section of track, they run train rides on two days a week, with the tourist dollar supporting the continuation of their activities. They have been told on numerous occasions they will have to close down, but their enthusiasm and perseverance prevents it from happening.

Tickets purchased, we wandered up the length of the train to look at the old carriages and shoot some video footage. With this task virtually completed, I was concentrating on shooting the connection of the locomotive to the rolling stock, when the friendly engineer came along and invited me up onto aflat car to assist him start the electric generator. The train is pulled by a diesel locomotive these days and the generator provides electricity to the carriages.

With little instruction, I was soon turning the crank handle preparatory to the switch being thrown to "kick" the engine. In my dim, dark past, I had previously cranked an engine and had suffered a nasty wrist sprain when it kicked and tried to separate my hand from my arm, so I was carrying negative baggage in trying to complete this task. When instructed to "go like hell" I duly did and as the engine kicked, I pulled the handle from its mounting place. The rotating shaft caught the handle as it came away and sent in smashing into my face, where it was stopped by my lips and behind them, my teeth. Reeling back, it did not take me long to realise I was shedding more than the sweat under the arms, but also a goodly amount of blood from the mouth.

Inspection revealed a split lip and numb teeth and the need for medical attention that could not wait until the return of the train in two hours. So with my career crank starting record standing at 0 for 2, 1 was soon driving back into Alice Springs seeking the hospital, with a large lump of serviette-encased ice on the spreading skin of my upper left lip.

Meanwhile, Sue and her frantic children boarded the train and had their ride. With Chris stepping brilliantly into the breach and recording videofootage of the trip, all was not lost in terms of keeping the audio/visual record intact. From all reports - and following a check of the footage my excellent offsider shot - it was a bonza trip and they enjoyed the experience. The restored amenities were excellent, with great fascination being expressed in the kitchen area. Highly polished stainless steel was abundant and an operational fuel stove was also on display.

The first class carriages held the most interest for the children, with more than one self-created role play taking them back through the years to when train travel was the quickest and most civilised form of transport.

When the trip ended, the Ghan Railway Preservation Society Inc., insisted on buying Sue and the children lunch, as I had not returned from my waiting vigil at the Emergency and Accident section of Alice Springs Hospital. In all, I had a two and a quarter hour wait until I was seen by a physician, most of the wait being caused by a near constant stream of ambulances which always seemed to materialise just as it seemed likely I would be called forward. As with all of these types of places, there were some sad cases and the wait was made the more difficult because of the suffering I witnessed on the faces and in the actions of the relatives who were attending their loved ones.

When treatment finally came, the verdict was I needed a stitch and a tetanus shot. The stitch was done without local anaesthetic, as I was warned this could be worse than the stitching, particularly for only one stitch. I was stoic, but the tetanus shot was my undoing. The feeling of that cold lead weight being pushed into me shoulder muscle was too much for me and I must admit to letting out a small whelp. The consolation of the kind nurse made it all worthwhile !

My return to Sue and the kids - late as it was - heralded great relief among all concerned. The OGRPS Inc had treated them very well and even insisted on refunding our fares and offering us free tickets on the next ride, to be held the following Wednesday. We reluctantly accepted the refund, but our departure for Uluru would prevent us taking up the offer of a second trip !

After assuring them - particularly the very upset engineer - all would be fine, we said our goodbyes and made our way into town.

It was well after lunch and I was feeling hungry ... until I tried to eat! Sitting on seats on top of Anzac Hill overlooking the city and with the imposing McDonnell Ranges as a backdrop, I found I wasn't feeling as good as I had hoped. We caught the views and left and soon afterwards, we were heading for home, where I crashed for some sleep: shock having caught up with me. Sue did a sterling job of putting up with both myself and the kids during the remainder of the afternoon.

Day turned to night - as is its custom - and we wrote the day off, ready to start afresh in the morning.

The Devils Marbles

Tennant Creek to Alice Springs
Wauchope, Wycliffe Well, Barrow Creek, Ti Tree, Aileron (Stuart Highway) 505 kms

With another driving day in excess of 500 kms facing us and one or two things to see on the way, we were away reasonably early. In fact, it would have been earlier but for us stopping and talking to caravan neighbours who were heading north. We were becoming "experts" on what should be seen in the Top End and I'm afraid we held court a little on this particular morning on the virtues of Kakadu and the pitfalls of Litchfield.

Still, our 8:30 am departure was not so tardy as to prevent us from putting plenty of distance under the wheels before lunch.

First stop for the day was about 100 kms south of Tennant, at one of the weirdest sights we had yet encountered. Suddenly before you, as you are beginning to be bored into not noticing the landscape, is a field of orange boulders which look like the scattered remains of a bread maker's convention. This collection of oversized granite tors is called the Devil's Marbles and like many natural features in the Territory, their origin depends on which version of their history you choose to accept - geological or cultural.

According to geology, they are granite boulders, worn loose from the surrounding country and rounded by the action of wind and especially water, causing exfoliation or "onion skin" erosion. Their orange colour stems from oxidisation after being torn loose from their original position in granite beds.

The aboriginal belief is mat these are the eggs of the Rainbow Serpent.

What ever version you choose, the strange collection certainly catches the eye: not only for their shape and size, but also for the random way they are stacked and the precarious manner in which tliey stand. Some appear to be held in the air by only the smallest of supporting material, but they remain in place. Only the broken down coarse sand and pebbles at their bases gives any evidence to the rounded surface sheets which are loosened by water working into cracks and allowing gravity to do the rest. We all clambered up and over the tors, which reminded Sue of balls of baker's pastry or dough. Photos taken, we rehirned to the road and tiie trip south.

Morning tea was taken at Wycliffe Well - another of the "towns" which look far more impressive as a dot in our version of "Explore Australia", than they do in real life. It comprised a combined store, petrol station and camping ground and an alleged lake ! Needless to say, we did not dally longer than a cup of tea and some biscuits took to consume.

Another few hundred kilometres later, we were in Ti Tree for fuel and lunch. A well kept park with bar-b-q, play equipment and a shady picnic shelter was an inviting place to stop, boil the billy and make sandwiches for the hungry mouths which demanded feeding regardless of their level of
activity! The only down side to this pleasant facility was the absolute lack of a toilet I

Sue stepped into the driver's seat for one of her rare stints behind the wheel and I quietly slipped into the Land of Nod, in an effort to retrieve some of the lost hours last evening.

I awakened to a changed landscape, about 90 minutes later. Gone were the flat expanses of saltbush and low scrub and in their place were colourful displays of wild flowers and increasing numbers of Ghost Gums. Mountains towered in the distance ahead and to both east and west. The blue haze of these monoliths suggested we were approaching Namatjira country.

A change of drivers was affected soon after passing The Tropic of Capricorn for the second time since leaving Tambar Springs in mid winter, in preparation for the last twenty or so kilometres into Alice Springs. Our arrival at 3:45 pm, marked the end of three long days on the road and it was with great relief we put up the big canvas and organised our camp site for the four nights we would spend here. I decided it was my turn to cook and being one who likes a variety of cuisine from different cultures, my decision turned in favour of Italian. A short drive, some quick service and three large super supreme pizzas and giant Pepsi were ready for consumption. I spared no effort!

Deliciously full, we rolled into bed, ready for what The Alice had in store for us over the next few days.