Queensland Outback Tour - Bourke to Cunnanulla (Qld)

Bourke to Cunnannulla 257km, Mitchell Highway

Bush Tucker Road House

It was a lazy driving day today along the mostly straight, always flat Mitchell Highway. The last two trips have proved to be well below my expectation with fuel consumption. The lifetime average for both AVAN's behind the Forester has been 12.7L/100kms (22.2 mpg in old money). From Burren Junction to Bourke it was 11.4L/100km and today, 11.0 (that's 25.7mpg). Not bad for a 2.5 litre petrol engine. Mind you, its been like rolling a ball on a billiard table.

Technical stuff out of the way, Sue had her first drive of the trip. Whilst I'll drive the vast majority, its best for her to be able to take over in the case of an emergency when I am incapacitated or in case of an argument when she leaves me behind. 

Road kill was her greatest impediment ... lots and lots of road kill. There were times when the Mitchell Highway looked like the Afganistan of highways. Roos, emus, pigs and lots more lining up for their turn. The emus were prolific by the roadside, often moving in herds of twenty or more.

We stopped on a whim at the Bush Tucker Inn and Caravan Park - think red dirt and corrugated iron and you just about have the picture. What a hoot. The two ladies who were running the joint and their friend who had joined them for a coffee, were great characters. We made ourselves a cuppa tea for $3 and joined them out the front under the shade of "the verandah" and had a fun half hour discussing all sorts of topics. They were great company as they watched big cars with bigger vans pull in and guessed at the drinks orders and argued over whose turn it was to make them. We were really glad we called in.

The Cunnamulla Fella

Pushing on, we reached Cunnamulla about 12:45pm and booked into Cunnamulla Tourist Park to a warm welcome, a grassed site in sight of the Cunnamulla sand dunes and power and water. With our discount, a cheap night.

During the afternoon we visited the famous Robber's Tree - that's what the sign said - where bank robber Joseph Wells was caught hiding from the police in 1880, after robbing the Qld National Bank and then crashing his horse during the getaway. He was found by tracker dogs, not as I suggested, in the Autumn and was tried and sentence to be hung. The Branch Manager and his assistant who had been injured during the robbery, argued against the sentence and made petitions on his behalf. On the 22nd March 1880, he was sent to the gallows and is the last person to receive the death penalty in Qld for "robbery under arms".

We also went out to the Allan Tannock Weir which holds back the Warrego River. The construction was completed in 1991 and is most interesting and allows you to stand at eye level behind the restrained water, while the spillway operates just 15 metres away. There is a boat ramp and indications that this is a popular spot for water sports.

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Back in town, we met the Cunnamulla Fella, a double life size statue by Archie St Clair, depicting the bloke sung about by Slim Dusty in a song written by Stan Coster. Its a pretty impressive likeness of a bush bloke having a spell, sitting on his swag and enjoying a cup of tea from his pannikin. We also had a wander around the shops which were all shut being a Sunday afternoon. 

Queensland Outback Tour - Burren Junction to Bourke

326kms: Kamilaroi Highway & B76 via Walget & Brewarrina

Nature entertained us at the Burren Junction Bore Baths: a hot soak in the baths; a warm shower; a spectacular sunset in the way only the western plains can arrange; the rise of a fat, orange moon in the evening; and a sunrise as an alarm clock. Its funny how you forget the touring life. Parking the van in one spot for two weeks is nowhere near the same.

It was a comfortable drive to Bourke. Since Narrabri, the road has been mostly straight and mostly flat and the fuel returns have provided ample evidence. Normally we average 12.7km/L towing but yesterday 11.8 was bettered by 11.4 today. We saw one landform which rose more than two metres in the entire drive.

Roadkill exaggerates the further west you go but the variety increases. Big Red kangaroos started to appear - sleeping as Sue insists - frozen as if toppled over from a stationary standing position. Pigs, goats and the occasional emu are new items on the menu, although emus seem less inclined to be finalised.

We stopped at Walgett for fuel, to be served by a young Welshman. A lot of the touring youth of he British Isles can be found in the service industry in far flung places but I'll admit, a Welshman in Walgett even caught me on the hop. He was friendly but fairly useless but somehow, it never seems to matter much. We had a nice chat about fuel octanes, discovered little but left happy.

Further down the track at Brewarrina, we had a cuppa at the boat ramp under the main road bridge which crosses the Barwon River on the northern side of the town. Autumn sunshine, a steep-banked inland river and masses of redgums is a scene that will always bring a certain peace while you strain your mug of tea through a muesli bar. We lingered a little longer but its hard not to. Cares seem a long way from you as you listen to the branches dance on the tune of a slight breeze and watch the ducks ply their casual trade on the river.

As a result, the final push to Bourke meant we wouldn't get the nose bags on until a tad after our normal lunch time. Our destination, Kidman's Camp, is in North Bourke in a location which is somewhat under described and certainly under sign posted. In fact, you have basically left the place when you find it. That said, the rest is outstanding.  Grassy sights, lots of trees and shrub as wind breaks and right beside the Darling River. First rate amenities for "Cowgirls & Cowboys". We were greeted as though we were old friends the hosts were just dying to see.

In the afternoon we went into town an naturally Sue found the best coffee, right beside the famous Bourke Wharf and the Crossing Engine. More of those in a later report. The coffee was outstanding and we will no doubt have cause to be in the vicinity again in the next few days.

In the evening, we attended Poetry on a Plate, an institution for Kidman's and indeed Bourke. A

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hundred or so sat around a fire of gidgee coals and ate heartily from genuine campfire food (cooked in crock pots) and listened to our host for the night, Frank Povah, who told tales of old and of his own colourful family history. He performed little known bush songs and some great bush poetry, although admitted he had to "tone it down" for the primary school group present who had bused in from the Hunter Valley. It was two hours of fun and connection to a mystic past of white fellas that has gone a little out of fashion in our justified haste to redress the imbalance in relationships with the first peoples.

Sleep well on beef casserole and a tipple of red.