"Sunsets and Sands 2002"
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Broken Hill - the place where our journey begins and finally the realization and excitement is setting in. With introductions to our fellow travelers and trip leader over, we all ventured off to the warmth of a local pub for our "first Supper" together {c/- 4+4 magazine} which was a hearty and very substantial meal. In particular, the enormous steak devoured by Geoff - with great ease, I might add.
We rose to a chilly Monday morning and the last of the hot showers for at least five days. Packing up wasn't altogether uneventful as our neighbours tried to bribe our children into packing up their tents, to no avail. However they did manage to have their washing up done by Gail. All ready to leave, we stopped for numerous group photos taken by Ken, the official trip photographer. At 9.15am we hit the road winding our way out of Broken Hill onto the Silverton Highway, toward our destination, Lindon station.
Our travels brought us through very dry country with the only unnatural sight being 100's of scattered bottles drunk by many a thirsty traveler no doubt. 'Snappy Ken' was quick to take advantage of any photo opportunity which included 1000's of penned sheep on our way through a desolate sheep station. At one point you knew you were in desert country when your boots sank when they hit the ground. Lunch was eaten under the shade of some gum trees just three hours into the trip. The flies greeted us in abundance and the vortex found it's way out of the car and into the eager hands both large and small.
We reached the dingo proof fence dividing the NSW & SA borders around 2.30pm with little wildlife to be seen. Only fifteen sun drenched travelers on an adventure.
Geoff's misplaced map was soon discovered by Gail who was accused by our trip leader of using the missing map as toilet paper. Meanwhile the three amigos were delayed temporarily as 'Snappy Ken' sought out the eagle's nest seen moments earlier. Locked gates, open gates, sand, dust and 348km later we pulled into our campsite for the evening to set up and then enjoy the beautiful sunset and great company around the campfire
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After a relaxing evening around the campfire, on the outskirts of Lindon station, we were all looking forward to sleeping under the kaleidoscope of stars, with not a hint of rain in the sky.
Breakfast was quick and easy, I am sure the eagerness of packing up will soon disappear and our tidy repacking of the vehicle will soon be somewhat of a shambles.
Shortly after 9am, we grouped at an old derelict truck for a number of photos. Our official photographer 'Snappy Ken' snapped happily. Maybe our guide just wanted to confirm that all 11 adults and 5 children were still on the track.
As we headed off towards the Lindon Homestead leaving behind our ashes, dreams and footprints in the dry claypans, we had to stop suddenly to rescue a set of head phones draped over the Wains bulbar. We soon reached the homestead of Ken and Raylene. The station was 1500 square miles in area or some 4000 square kilometres - give or take little. There are approximately 2000 head of cattle roaming the station along with dingos, mice and other reptiles. 
The station was named after the 2 sons who founded it - not surprisingly their names were Lindsay and Don.
Raylene whipped up a fabulous morning tea of scones with syrup, jam, vegemite and honey. Than the worst possible thing happened, Teagan doubled dipped with the syrup. After that Raylene took the children and showed them around the homestead including the new calves. Erez, Tamar, Yonathan, Cara and Teagan finally got to see a dingo and had there photo taken lying on the dingo.
After a relaxing morning tea, the group headed to Cameron Corner. Cameron Corner is where the Queensland, South Australia and New South Wales borders meet. Everyone taking photos surpassed 'Snappy Ken'. If my memory serves me correctly, Yonathan was the first to jump the fence into Queensland.
We converged on the shop where some scoffed pies and soft drinks. Brian seemed to wait an eternity for some diesel. While most of us brought souvenirs, Teagan brought a paddle pop. When Teagan was asked to share it she suddenly became deaf and elusive, Andrew said she gets this from her mother's side. The toilets at Cameron's corner were suitably named Drip-Dry and Flip-Dry.
On the way from Cameron Corner, we had to pay a road tax of $10 per vehicle, to enjoy the pleasure of driving through Bollards Lagoon. I am sure the $10 went towards making those corrugations in the road. We asked our tour guide Geoff where the lagoon was and not surprisingly he had no idea. 
To his credit, he was quick to reply we are driving through it now (maybe). The Amigos were playing spot the 'Bunyip' but Ken and I quickly stopped as we were unsure to if our guest 'Gail' was a Bunyip.
Again Brian assumed the role of gate keeper - he is becoming a specialist in gate keeping. Our lunch stop was on the side of the road (or was it a track) and the ants came out to join us. The road to lunch was bumpy and we all took the opportunity to let air out of the tyres of our vehicles. Brian's tyre pressure gauge may have seen better days.
The vortex has become instrumental in our playtime. We are all saying 'throw it to me'.
On the way again after lunch we again tested our guide Geoff with a question. To our surprise he knew the answer to the gas field question. Maybe he is a guide after all, or maybe his new companion Jeff Cooney told him.
We stopped about 4.pm to set up camp. The group is slowly spreading out and enjoying the peaceful surroundings. The Amigos were assisted by Brian, Bill & Erez to build the mighty loo - maybe this where the term porta-loo came from (Portmans loo).
Eli, Orit, Andrew, Annette and Gail (the Bunyip) had firewood duty and were assisted by the children.
As one Amigo writes this log, the anxiety of the others increases - what will be told, will it be fact or fiction, and will it be incriminating or embarrassing. As the tour progresses, the group will decide whether it's fact or fiction we want.
Enough for now the log needs another writer.
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I got the logbook and Gail's wish was not to be mentioned in the logbook today. I promise you Gail I will not mention you in the log today.
I would like to apologise for last night about the embarrassment I caused everyone in relation to "pajero'. From where I come it is not rude at all and with the right attitude, it is even fun (and you don't always have to enjoy it by yourself).
As time passes conversations around the campfire developed and we begin to learn more about each other and I can feel the creation of energy that wasn't there before.
We began the morning traveling along the Bore Track until we arrive at the Cullyamurra Water Hole. A pleasant walk gave us the chance to stretch our muscles and to climb a few rocks. A short drive brought us to Innamincka.
Innamincka welcomed us with a lot of wind and clouds of dust and no chance of staying clean for more than two seconds for those who took showers. At a little museum we were able to read about the life of the nurses and the settlers of the 20th century. Again we had the chance to see how easy and spoiled our lives are today.
After Innamincka we headed off to Coongie Lake and again we drove through endless open space, huge areas that extend your body, soul and spirit and fill them with a lot of good energy that will feed you until your next trip.
The colour of the sand was not red like it was yesterday. It will be nice to see the red sand again when we get into the Simpson Desert if not before.
We arrive at our campsite near a waterhole where the children waded in the shallow water returning with muddy feet.
I would like to pass this log to Bill if he is willing to share with us his view of the Journey.
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Around half past eight this morning I heard a clear voice calling out. At first I thought it was the murzin calling the faithful to prayer in Mecca. As nobody was praying I realized that the little house was going to be pulled down.
We got away at 9am sharp to Kudriemitchie Outback station where it had a show inside of how they lived years ago. The next point of call was the lake, which was a beautiful sight in the sunshine. An ideal place for a holiday if you had a canoe and could swim in case of accidents. The next point of interest was the minor hitch with John, Jeff & Ken's vehicle.
A lot of people criticize the roads but their bad state is not nature's fault. Last year I met Percy Blogs Chief Engineer for the highways Dept. who was supervising a road from Charlotte Waters to Abminga. He said the road we were on was too good for motorists as they sped and damaged the wildlife and cattle. So the Highways Dept decided to put potholes, sand traps, loose rocks etc every couple of hundred yards, to make sure the drivers stayed awake (that was Percy's story anyway).
Our final stretch was up Walkers Crossing then to Birdsville where Brian and I enjoyed a glass of beer before dinner.
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Last night we had drinks at the Birdsville pub and met our new companions Fraser and Jenny.
This morning at about 7am dad came in to wake us up, 'rise and shine', we all got packed up and had breakfast and packed up the tent. At 8.30am Broken Hill time we went to the working museum. It was pretty good, collectables, old done-up machinery, old children's toys including a little typewriter that brought a tear to Ken's eye. Even a cool little cardboard record player.
After the museum trip we filled up our petrol/diesel tanks. Than we - well Tamar, Ken, John, Jeff, Gail and me - went to the Birdsville caravan park where we stayed last night, for cuppachinos and milk shakes. We all managed to squish around one table.
We set off from Birdsville towards Big Red on a sandy road. We stopped at the bottom of Big Red and as quickly as he could Yonatan ran up the top of the huge sand dune, happy to be the first in our group up there. Then Cara, Tamar, mum and me walked up barefoot after Orit.
Geoff was the first of the cars on the first side followed by Eli, Dad, Brian and Bill, the boys and Fraser and Jenny. We met some people on the other side trying to getup.
Well, it took Geoff, Gail and Eli one go to get up. It took two goes for Fraser and dad and I won't say how many it took one of the Amigos cars but it eventually got up. We all clapped and cheered when Brian got up and when John did.
Also Cara had a try in Geoff's car and, with the help of Geoff on the steering wheel, she got over too. Erez also got over with the help of his Dad,
We went back down the bottom of Big Red on the side we came up. Refilled our tyres with air, as we had to let air out to be able to get over the huge sand dune. We got back on the road-heading north towards Eyre creek - our destination for the night. We came to another sand dune that Fraser got over on first try and it took Geoff three - anyway, well done!!
We arrived at our destination Eyre Creek at approximately 4.58pm to set up camp.
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After a fitful sleep, courtesy of the torch-bearing dingo, we arose to a leisurely breakfast at the Annandale waterless water hole. We depart camp at 10am upstream in search of water. While traveling Geoff gave us graphic description of how he dated camels; presumably this was before he met Lisa. Apparently Afgan cameleers passed on this expertise on camels to him 35 years ago. Doesn't Geoff keep his age well? We headed north along Eyre Creek and Brian tried his hand at cattle droving. We can award him mustering certificate to go along with his gate-closing certificate.
Around midday, our intrepid leader was proved right when we came upon the large Kuddaree Waterhole, approximately 25 kilometres north of camp. The view from the top of the dune is hard to do justice, with thousands of corellas, ducks, pelicans even brolgas and wading cattle. So much life in this endless horizon of sand dunes. Again, Ken the photographer was kept extremely busy. We drove around the water hole and stopped for lunch. Ken and Fraser went for a bracing swim, while Tamar and Teagan dabbled their toes. Yonatan had a wonderful time with his pet lizard while Erez ran about madly frightening thousands of corellas into the air. This begs the question who is the galah.
On the return journey to Annandale camp we traversed a few kilometres of Madigan's line where a fairly innocuous looking sandhill stopped Geoff numerous times, it stopped Jeff Amigo several times as well but the rest of us went straight over.
Our intrepid leader lost the trail and we ended up in a dead-end claypan. Portman tried to make it look as though he had planned everything as he went about pointing out LPG stinking wattle. Gail took over the driving and struck out cross-country. The Davidson's and Cara's panicked and got out the GPS. The combination of good luck, commonsense and satellites returned us to the safety of home camp. Where we enjoyed our happy hour on top of a large sand dune next to our camp as the sun went down.
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Captains log - star date no7 - I said star date, not camels date!
Well today is the big day - we all head into the Simpson Desert (the real point of our trip).
The morning was bloody cold - freezing in fact. The intention was to meet at the ruins of Annandale homestead at 9.30am. Only some of us made it. Our esteemed and glorious leader arrived at 10am mumbling excuses and curses. 
It appears that Geoff wanted to hold a short prayer service and sermon (today is Sunday) but time was gone. The closest we got to words of wisdom was " last call for the dunny", which had some people sprinting to pay their respects.
We explored the homestead ruins and tried to imagine life at that time in this location. The desert is slowly reclaiming the ruins. The crumbling chimney, yards and machines stand in silent memory to the hardships endured by the pioneers who opened up inland Australia.
We set off on our quest but made it only one Kilometre before Geoff required a toilet stop. Miraculously, we discovered a marker indicating a visit from Charles Sturt in 1845. This lead to a discussion on what other historic markers Geoff had secreted in his vehicle for later use. We expected to suddenly find that Captain Cook had visited this area in 1770.
Shortly after we recommenced our journey, Geoff stopped once again. His bladder was playing up this morning. However we were able to fill water containers at a local bore. We tried to catch dingo for fresh meat, but only found dead cows. The rotting carcasses stank, but not as much as John's first wake up call in the morning.
At 11.25am precisely, we attacked our first sand dune of the desert trek. Everyone made it over on the first attempt. All that practice on Big Red paid off. We crossed the main Eyre Creek channel at Goonamllera. Surprisingly, there was much vegetation in the area - cane grass, lignum, various wattles, spinifex, etc. Not as thick as the vegetation in Geoff's mind at that stage.
A curious explanation on what is the lignum bush lead to a wide-ranging discussion on curls, steel wool, various varieties of nuts and merkun with gherkin. Geoff inquired as to who had ginger nuts, which prompted Fraser to question what team Geoff was batting for. Subsequent comments by Geoff about sharing a bath with Fraser confirmed our previous opinion - Geoff really was a closet Pajero driver.
This lengthy, but very meaningful, discussion occupied the 30km drive down the western side of the Eyre Creek channel, where we joined the QAA line at 12.15pm.
Lunch was at the main Eyre Creek crossing. John was fascinated with the big cracks in the dried out ground. We won't take that one any further.
We moved on at 1pm. At 1.20pm Andrew reported in to say he needed to repair his bash plate. We don't know whom he bashed with it, but Cara did later complain of a headache.
From there, we headed into the Simpson. Dune after dune appeared before us, and Gail was heard to mutter "are we there yet?" Only Eli had a perfect record in tackling the dunes. The rest of us had some reversing practice.
Tourists! They were everywhere. Vehicles coming at us constantly. We thought we were back in Sydney. For the first time we had to deal with "normal" people. Various personal habits had to be cleaned up immediately.
Young Bill was stoic through it all and never complained, even over the corrugations. His bones did not fall apart and he never got stuck on a dune. Camp was established at 4pm in a secret Portman location. Unfortunately McDonalds was not open, so we had to cook dinner ourselves. Speaking of camp, Ken was in charge once again.
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We are traveling the Simpson Desert from East to West - camped 50km east of the QAA Junction.
We are about to loose a good friend who has been with us at the wee hours of the morning since we started the trip in Broken Hill. The moon is about to disappear tonight so if you see him wave good-bye. In two days it will begin a new cycle.
As soon as we hit the QAA line westward bound we joined a group going the same direction. We experienced a lot of traffic. As a matter of courtesy we let all the westbound traffic overtake us.
Somewhere before Poeppel's Corner, Geoff had our first puncture. According to his statistics, we have three more punctures to go to reach the average.
We reach Poepel's Corner after driving along a dry salt lake, couldn't find a corner but enjoyed crossing the boarders between three states.
We had lunch west of Poepple's Corner where Geoff gave away some of his ice creams. This probably made him the most popular Trip Leader among the children.
After lunch we continued on the French Line where we experienced lots of humps. When Bill was asked about the humps he said it was fun. So who are we to complain!
As a contribution to the efforts to find oil and gas in the Simpson Desert, Brian releases all his cooking gas to the Desert air in exchange for ice.
During the day we reinforced what we had already learnt about tyre pressure and driving in the sand.
We reached our night camp at the foot of the Approbina Attora Knolls where we've had magnificent sunset views from the top of the south knoll with drinks and nibbles.
Just for the record the dunny was set up properly this evening as opposed to last night.
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As we travel west each day, we venture further from most of our homes. But as we continue to roam the desert, home seems even more distant. Our newfound friends welcome us each morning and say good night each evening. Our routines each day are similar but our conversations are always changing as we learn more about each other and our environment, led by our learned and sometimes truth stretching leader.
The day began cold with frozen wash water but by 8.30am it had warmed up. We continued south down the Knolls Track and today we rotated the lead vehicle changing every 5km and for the most part this worked very well.
On reaching the WAA line at about 10.30am we turned right and again headed west. During one of the Cara family turns in front they spotted five camels close to the road. Unfortunately by the time we got there they were all gone.
Lunch was enjoyed next to the WAA line. Yonatan, Erez, Gail and Fraser entertained us as they tried to show us how to barrel roll a drum.
The unthinkable happened after lunch the seemingly unstoppable Landcruiser had to have a second attempt at a sand dune. It was later revealed that the driver was not the ever-conquering Eli but his No 2 son, alias Erez.
On cresting a dune we came upon a Patrol that was rocking - but its not what you think - Fraser was just trying to work his way up without reversing. We experienced many side dips on the WAA line that were enjoyed by all and also the much less bumpy nature of the road.
The team Prado cars got mixed up at on change over and a nameless Amigo was mistaken for a senorita. Just after 4pm we turned of the WAA line for camp set up. Thank you to Eli giving Bill a lift up the dune where we all enjoyed another sun set together.
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We came, we saw, we conquered and we finally got wet. The Cruisers cruised the Prado's paraded, the Rodeo bucked 'again' and the Nissan patrolled into Dalhousie Springs this evening ending the dune crossing section of the Simpson Desert.
All have eagerly awaited washing away 5 days of desert dust and grime in the hot springs. At breakfast this morning our dear Gail was obviously suffering from Desert Dune madness as she all but started to walk to Dalhousie at the mere thought of flushing toilets and showers. Not even the offer of another hair wash and an extra ration of warm water for an APC could placate her : "Dalhousie - NOW PLEASE".
Leaving Desert Camp 3 at GPS E136"53" at the crack of 9am, we again rotated the lead taking 5km turns till reaching the end of the WAA line at Colsons Track Junction where we changed our tyre pressure to suit the clay topped but deeply rutted Rig Road, adding further variety to our driving experience.
A rest stop at Pec's grave at the Mokari air strip led to a radio convoy discussion to the likelihood of the Amigos perishing in the desert from lack of fuel either today or tomorrow .The dividing up of their beer, film and nibbles was decided with relish.
Lunch followed at the Purnie Bore and very soon after out of the Desert dunes, across the Alinga Plain and into Dalhousie after a quick stop at some Gidgee trees for some firewood.
Geoff, in his own unique way, has woven another complete group of strangers into a competent group of terrain tacklers with friendships and camaraderie building daily. We have all made personal achievements and new friends over the past 10days while learning new skills along the way. None of this would have been made possible without Geoff being willing to share his knowledge, love and personal perspective of our great outback. This is my last chance with the log to officially say thankyou to Geoff and the rest of you all as well for accepting us into the group half way along, many thanks.
P.S To Geoff, the night drive boys did have the camp coordinates, so lights out wouldn't have worked. Also the Amigos seem strangely relaxed and comfortable here at Dalhousie considering what tomorrow may hold for them.
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We awake to a warmer morning, only minus 2degrees at the lovely and inviting Dalhousie Springs. Most of the group participated in an early morning swim, better than a hot bath. Due to the late departure time we had a leisurely breakfast and slower pack up.
I have noticed the mood in the camp starting to change as people start to make plans for life after the sunset and Sands Tour. We are all sad to say good-bye to the close family we have been part of for the past 11 days, but excited to join our families we have left behind. Some of us are off for greater adventure and others are back home to work, school lunches, Cubs and all the domestic duties we truly love.
After our departure we had a quick drive to the Dalhousie homestead. It was a lush and beautiful place. You could just imagine Chris Bagot and his family taking refuge from the summer heat in the date palms. It is likely they grew after Afghan camel drivers used the homestead as a campsite for their long treks into the centre with supplies. I wonder if these are the same ones Geoff became friendly with.
We than moved on to Mt Dare for lunch where we found the rumours were true. They had no fuel and team Prado were feeling uneasy. The other supplies we wanted we found there - beer, chips, chocolate, pies and the most important supplies, a phone and flushing toilets (They were a long drop a Dalhousie).
Geoff who never doubted his own abilities got on the radio and found fuel at New Crown station 70km up the road. New Crown station is a working station; the homestead was built using salvaged materials from Charlotte Waters Repeater Station. When we arrived we had to wait for service as the station worker was serving ribs to a Ute full of locals (better than Safeway). We fuelled up then continued on to Finke Aputula. The Aputula community runs Finke with its own council. The Aputula community took over the running of the town in 1982 following the closure of the railway.
We stopped at the local shop and brought up the entire stock of Dixie Bell ice creams. Than set off for camp down by the sandy Finke river. Geoff warned everyone to be careful, as the sand was very boggy. Oops! too late! Fraser's bogged. Fraser really just wanted to show us all he knew how to use his brand new winch.
After set up we all enjoyed happy hour on the rocks. Tonight being our last night together is a time for reflection. It's been fun and an adventure but I think the most important memory I will carry with me are the friendships forged.
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Another cold dawn and a somewhat slower start today, perhaps reflecting a reluctance to bring to an end our Sunsets and Sand desert journey.
We left our camp on the banks of the Finke River at around 9.30, again crossing the wide, sandy bed of the usually-dry river. Passing through the small community of Finke, our group again headed west on the final, short leg of our trip.
A short time later we stopped at Lambert Centre, the geographic centre of Australia. With most of us having traveled from the eastern and southern edges of the continent, it's remarkable to think that we're standing at its dead centre. Fraser thought it remarkable that those responsible for could calculate the exact centre of a continent but couldn't plan a straight road!
Returning to the main road, the convoy drove the final 100kms or so to a last lunch stop, our goodbyes and then on to Kulgera. For the last time, chased toward the horizon by rooster tails of burnt orange dust.
Now that the dust has settled, our last camp packed up and the embers of our last campfire left smoldering in the sand, we can pause to reflect on our own experiences and those we've shared with each other over the last 11 days.
The expectations we each held at the beginning of the trip have probably been challenged by what we have seen.
We'll remember the frequently changing scenery and terrain; at times it seemed that the outlook would change over each hillock and dune. From the rolling hills and dry, open plains outside Broken Hill to the smooth red clay pans and tumbling sand dunes of the Strzlecki spilling down to meet the hard-packed gibber rocks of Sturt's Stony Desert; to the deep red sands of the Simpson contrasting with the grey-green gidgee and wattle, the spinifex bleached almost white by the sun and the picture-perfect blue sky; to the table-topped mesas circling the floodplains, salt pans and lush wetlands of the western fringe.
We'll remember the campsites, with space to find out own space, in the lee of a dune, on the fringe of a waterhole, the banks of dry riverbeds and on smooth clean clay pans. After sunsets shared atop the neighbouring dune or knoll, the canopy of countless southern stars settled over us each night. Then the campfire would draw our small community together, into its cocoon of warmth, holding at bay the creeping cold. The conversation and companionship we shared provided warmth of a different kind.
We'll remember the cold clear dawns as the sun clambered over the horizon to paint the landscape, first in pastel shades and then the rich, deep colours of the desert.
We'll remember the challenges and achievements that have left us more experienced four-wheel-drivers.
Finally, we'll remember our guide Geoff and able assistant Gail. With laconic good humour, sharp wit and a deep well of patience, Geoff has cared for our safety and comfort and given us an insight into the ethos of the desert and the hardships and perils that confronted (and often, tragically defeated) the early European pioneers.
We also take away an appreciation of the beauty and the risks that face the recreational visitor. Thanks Geoff, a leader and teacher in all but name. Thanks also to the supporting team, Gail, always free with a helping hand, sharing our experience, conversation and laughs.
Now, till our wandering paths cross again, the last log has been read…
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The Desert is calling said Fraser to Jen
We don't know where and we don't know when
Will we go alone or in a group?
On our own we might end up in the soup
I've been thinking and I know who
Just the bloke to get us out of the poo
Portmans Tours of Kinglake
are running a tour for 4 by 4's sake
We meet our motley crew at Birdsville
The Caras, the Wains and Brian and Bill
Big Geoff himself and the Amigos as well
And here begins the story to tell
We ventured out to attempt Big Red
There were cheers and hoorays, so no sense of dread
We moved to Annandale station
A place of desolation
Bill said I met "Ted Colson here in 1939 "
And Bill wandered away up the Madigans Line
"Bugger me" said Geoff, "he'll perish"
To Kudaree water hole, an oasis in the desert
We were on a winner with this tour that's for cert
But a moment of uncertainty on the way back
Geoff cried out "I've lost my GPS and the track
Who can tell me which way to go?"
Gail pointed this way, but Eli said "I know"
On Eli's heading and Gail's driving
We found our way to camp but Portman was crying
Should we then have felt a moment of doubt
That our intrepid leader would get us across the desert and out?
The French line lead us too
It was rough and rugged but we battled through
The Rodeo bucked along that French Line
Poor Brian was living on borrowed time
What is that smell said Erez, I can not tell
Kaboom! Kaboom!
I know it's gas said Andrew, I know it well
"Bugger me" said Geoff, "Brian's perished"
The five remaining vehicles moved on to camp at the Knolls
Where over a beer we counted the days' tolls
The Amigo's Prado was groaning under the weight of the hors d' oevres
Eating into all their fuel reserves
Portman drove off into the dust
The Amigo's cried "wait for us"
"Bugger me" said Geoff "you'll perish
And we'll divide the spoils with a great deal of relish"
But what did fate hold for the other Prado?
They had been attacking the desert with far too much bravado
"Don't worry" said Geoff "I know where there is a fuel stash
You wait here we'll be back in a flash!"
"Bugger me" said Geoff "it used to be here"
The Wain's will perish it would appear!
The three vehicles survived across the dunes
Geoff said we wont need a corner marker in this convoy to the ruins
But the Davidsons took a wrong turning
"Bugger me they'll perish" said Geoff with no yearning
But it did not matter
Because somehow Fraser found the track to Oodnadatta
"Cheer up, folks" said Geoff "We're off to Mt Dare,
get rid of those looks of despair"
But Geoff traversed every track and trail
"I wish I had my GPS" he did wail
"Bugger me" said Gail "You don't know where you are
I'm going with the Cara's their a better bet than you are"
Running out of fuel Geoff spluttered to a stop
The Cara's flew by tanks brimming to the top
Geoff cried "I'm the Australian Rally Champion you should cherish
Bugger me I can't perish!"
The Cara's went cruising past Abminga Siding
"Bugger me" said Eli "This is where old Bill is now residing"
"Yes", said Bill "I came down Madigan Line
where I met Ted Colson in 1939"
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