Wild about wilderness
Bone-shuddering, bum-aching, tummy-jiggling hell. The corrugations were inches deep and caused man, woman, child and machine to bump, slam and thud as if in a washing machine for hours. Red dirt roads stretched ahead as far as the eye could see, with the offending particles sticking to flora and fauna like a kid’s tongue to a lollipop and infiltrating deep into every orifice of four-wheel drive, camper trailer and nose. Welcome to Cape York. My husband and I finally fulfilled a long-held dream recently to voyage to the tip of this great country. Having travelled to most parts of Australia, the Tip was still on our travel bucket list and, with it so tantalisingly close, we could resist no longer. Off-road literature and TV shows grow the love affair and romanticise the notion of a last frontier.
The long hours travelling the worst of the dirt roads on and around the Old Telegraph Rd, to witness the likes of the infamous Gunshot Creek crossing, certainly validate everything you’ve ever read or heard. This country is remote … and it isn’t. Debates about bridges over the Daintree and Jardine rivers and bitumening all the way to the Tip come to mind along the journey.
From Weipa to Bramwell Station and north to Bamaga, four-wheel drives, and the odd, almost comical, sedan or caravan, slog their way over roads shared with giant road trains that make driving in fog child’s play.
Being engulfed in a dirt cloud is like someone turning out the lights and, if there is not a puff of wind, it can seem like an eternity to regain sight. Paralysing.
More blacktop roads and bridges would make life easier for Cape communities, and some locals talk wistfully about the day it may all happen.
Selfishly for those of us who don’t live there, the idea of bridges and ferries is quite simply sad.
The unspoilt white sand of Chilli Beach is a frazzled city-dweller’s paradise. It renders mobile phones useless and blows your troubles away with a cool easterly breeze.
Adventure junkies, nature lovers and Aussie characters can marvel at watching the sun rise over Chilli’s turquoise waters on the east coast then, a few hours later chink a glass or tinnie as it sets over water on the west coast. Unique.
Elliot Falls National Park is nature’s water park, while rugged terrain offers historical gems and emotional links for all Australians. It’s not all wild, wild west in the Cape; it is after all 2018.
But when you finally arrive at the Tip you can celebrate by ringing friends and family and take photos on your smart phone standing next to a simple sign that tells the world your corrugated road-ravaged body has finally made it to the Tip.
DEBATES ABOUT BRIDGES OVER THE DAINTREE AND JARDINE RIVERS AND BITUMENING ALL THE WAY TO THE TIP COME TO MIND ALONG THE JOURNEY. SELFISHLY FOR THOSE OF US WHO DON’T LIVE THERE, THE IDEA IS QUITE SIMPLY SAD.