This is the blog of Mark Wordsworm, the travelling worm. I’m a 40-year-old bookmark (give or take a few years) and I proudly boast my own Hallmark serial number, 95 HBM 80-1. You’ll probably want to read all about me and my Travelling Companion (the TC).
Today’s travel notes
Me and the TC recently took our first extended trip into the Australian Outback. My previous posts describe the sights at White Cliffs, Lake Mungo, and more. This post is slightly different: it focuses on the roads. If you’re thinking of making this trip yourself, this collage gives you an idea of what to expect.
In total, we travelled approximately 2,850 km (1,770 miles). We started in Sydney on day one, passing through Dubbo to Nyngan. On day two, we drove from Nyngan via Cobar and Wilcannia to White Cliffs. Day three took us through the Willandra Lakes Region to Mungo National Park. On day four, we explored the park. On day five, we started our trip back towards Sydney, stopping overnight in Cowra. Day six saw us arriving back in Sydney in time for a late lunch.
The book I’m in
Where Song Began, by Tim Low. A telling of the origins on the Australian continent of all the world’s songbirds, rich in detail and convincingly told.
Travel tips
Some parts of the Outback are far from anywhere else. Take supplies of food, water, fuel for your vehicle, and warm clothes. If possible, travel in a convoy of at least two vehicles and take a personal locator beacon (PLB).
The photos
Heading west from Sydney towards Cobar, the roadside alternates between red dirt and silver grass:
Opal Miner’s Way, on the way to White Cliffs:
Garnpung Lake Road and Ivanhoe Road, Pan Ban:
Garnpang Road, entering Mungo National Park and later with the Lake Garnpang sign:
Mungo National Park, approaching the Walls of China:
On the self-guided drive in Mungo National Park:
Entering Lake Mungo, a lake bed that’s been dry for more than ten thousand years:
More Lake Mungo road scenes:
Leaving Mungo National Park and Arumpo:
Sturt Highway, with cotton clouds and a cotton lining left by the road trains:
Getting close to home, on Murrumbidgee River Road and Mid Western Highway:
This is the blog of Mark Wordsworm, the travelling worm. I’m a 40-year-old bookmark (give or take a few years) and I proudly boast my own Hallmark serial number, 95 HBM 80-1. You’ll probably want to read all about me and my Travelling Companion (the TC).
Today’s travel notes
Me and the TC spent a day at Lake Mungo, deep in the Australian Outback. While there, we visited the intriguing sand dune formation named the Walls of China, or the Mungo lunette.
The book I’m in
Where Song Began, by Tim Low. A telling of the origins on the Australian continent of all the world’s songbirds, rich in detail and convincingly told.
Travel tips
Sign up for the sunset tour of the Walls of China. The evening lighting adds beauty and drama to the scene, and you’re able to walk right up onto the dunes with your guide.
Recommended accommodation
Mungo Lodge offers camping and cabins. The TC opted for a cabin, which was very comfortable. The welcome is warm and the restaurant food is good.
The photos
To reach the Walls of China, you drive across the dried-up bed of Lake Mungo. The road is good and wide. On the horizon, the Walls of China grow as you approach:
The extra width of the road is especially welcome at dawn and dusk. It gives you time to see the kangaroos that pop out of the bush at random intervals.
The colours are fluid, changing with the time of day, the weather, the camera settings. In the middle of the day, the sand is all silver and pale yellows. Perhaps this is where the name “Mungo lunette” comes from:
In late afternoon, the yellow of the sun exerts more influence:
We were with a guide, which meant that we could walk onto the dunes and see the formations up close:
Wind erosion has formed narrow gullies which you can walk through, to avoid damaging the fragile dunes:
Colours deepen as the sun moves lower:
As the sun disappears, it’s time to make our way back:
Come daylight, and we’re on the road again, saying farewell to Mungo National Park:
If you’d like to see more pictures of the national park, read my post titled Lake Mungo.
This is the blog of Mark Wordsworm, the travelling worm. I’m a 40-year-old bookmark (give or take a few years) and I proudly boast my own Hallmark serial number, 95 HBM 80-1. You’ll probably want to read all about me and my Travelling Companion (the TC).
Today’s travel notes
Me and the TC reached Lake Mungo, deep in the Australian Outback. This post is about Mungo National Park and the dry lake that forms its centre. I’ll write a separate post about the Walls of China, an unusual sand formation in the middle of the park.
The book I’m in
Bitter Sun, by Beth Lewis. I’m tucked in near the beginning of this book. The story is unfolding, and I’m intrigued by the characters and the setting.
Travel tips
Take spare supplies with you: lights, water, food, warm clothing, and extra fuel for your vehicle. Mungo National Park is remote. The closest fuel is about 110 km away. It’s a good idea to be self sufficient in case of emergency.
Recommended accommodation
Mungo Lodge offers camping and cabins. The TC opted for a cabin, which was very comfortable. The welcome is warm and the restaurant food is good.
The photos
Me at the Red Top lookout in Mungo National Park:
From the direction of Ivanhoe and Clare, Garnpang Road provides entry to Mungo National Park:
We were somewhat later than planned. The sunset over Garnpung Lake, though pretty, was a trifle scary — it meant we’d be driving in the dark. Janet the Jeep, along with others of our party, couldn’t resist the photo opportunity:
After a nail-biting drive, ably handled by the TC and Janet, we arrived safely at Mungo Lodge. Janet sashayed merrily across the corrugations, dodging kangaroos that bopped out of the bush at random. By the time we arrived at the lodge, it was full dark. The photos are from the following day.
The reception at Mungo Lodge is friendly and welcoming:
The dining area is spacious and warm:
Our cabin looked out over a grassy area, where kangaroos and birds frolicked in the early morning. (If you want to see the birds, take a look at the TC’s bird blog, Sydney Birder. She’s posting the birds from our Outback trip. The Mungo shots will be there shortly.) Here’s our cabin at Mungo Lodge:
This worm was delighted to find evidence of my cousins, the Witchetty grubs. They’re imposing larvae that transform into Ghost Moths. A shed Witchetty grub skin lay on the ground outside our cabin, about as long as the TC’s longest finger:
Next morning, we headed out on the self-guided driving tour through the park:
One of the stops was at the Red Top lookout:
The sand formations are the result of wind erosion:
A sign welcomes you to Lake Mungo:
Despite the name, there’s no water. The lake has been dry for more than 10,000 years. The next shot was taken from the Walls of China viewing area (which will be the topic of my next post). Behind the bench, the dry expanse of Lake Mungo stretches out:
The round balls in the foreground are Paddy Melons, an invasive fruit that occurs in much of the Outback.
Every now and then, a flower softens the harsh beauty of the landscape:
This is the blog of Mark Wordsworm, the travelling worm. I’m a 40-year-old bookmark (give or take a few years) and I proudly boast my own Hallmark serial number, 95 HBM 80-1. You’ll probably want to read all about me and my Travelling Companion (the TC).
Today’s travel notes
Me and the TC left White Cliffs and its opal mines (check my previous post) to drive deeper into the Australian Outback. We stopped at a dry salt lake in the Willandra Lakes Region, near Ivanhoe, NSW.
The book I’m in
Bitter Sun, by Beth Lewis. I’m tucked in right at the beginning of this book, and already I’m intrigued by the main character.
Travel tips
Hop out of the vehicle and breath in the air. You never know who’ll pass by.
The photos
Me and Peg on the edge of the salt pan:
The vegetation around the salt pan is low and sparse. Just behind yours truly is a small Old Man Saltbush, one of many in the area. The leaves are edible and, you guessed it, salty.
The next pic shows what the scene might look like if you forget to don your sunglasses (or if, like the TC, you forget to adjust the camera settings to cater for the bright light):
But wait, what’s that shape on the edge of the salt pan? Zooming in reveals the passer by:
It’s a feral cat. They can survive even the harsh conditions of the Australian Outback.
Viewed through sunglasses, or with adjusted camera settings, the salt pan is easier to view but less aetherial:
The salt pan is on the edge of Garnpung Lake Road, which passes through the regions of Ivanhoe and Willandra Lakes. It’s a dirt road, but good driving through beautiful country. Janet the Jeep was in her element :
This is the blog of Mark Wordsworm, the travelling worm. I’m a 40-year-old bookmark (give or take a few years) and I proudly boast my own Hallmark serial number, 95 HBM 80-1. You’ll probably want to read all about me and my Travelling Companion (the TC).
Today’s travel notes
Me and the TC spent the last few days in the Australian Outback. Although it was a short trip (six days in total), it was the experience of a life time. This post tells of our stay in White Cliffs, a small and remote opal mining settlement in far western New South Wales.
The book I’m in
The Book of Eve, by Meg Clothier. Ancient intrigue and engaging characters. I’m now nestled near the end of the book. It’s been quite a ride.
Travel tips
Take spare fuel, in case the fuel station at White Cliffs is closed or doesn’t have the right fuel for your vehicle.
Recommended accommodation
White Cliffs Underground Motel. The experience is unique. The rooms are entirely underground, as are many of the homes in the area, dug out to provide cool shelter from the extreme heat in summer. Some of the dugouts are converted opal mine shafts and tunnels.
The photos
Me and Peg in our dugout at the White Cliffs Underground Motel, catching the breeze from a ventilation shaft:
White Cliffs is in the middle of nowhere (by some definition of nowhere), at 1,025 km west of Sydney and 781 km north-east of Adelaide. The last part of the route is Opal Miners Way, picturesque especially in the late afternoon with the colours blowing across the landscape:
Janet the Jeep waits while the TC snaps the sundown shots. Janet herself is picturesque at sundown too:
The entrance to the Underground Motel is long and low, with the rooms built into the hill behind:
Being a bookmark, yours truly is comfortable with snug spaces. Other folks might worry that the underground corridors and rooms will feel small and close. However, inside the Underground Motel, the walls are painted white, good for giving an impression of cheer and space:
In search of our dugout:
Passing the stairs that lead up to the roof:
Our dugout:
We arrived quite late, and so missed the famed sunset. The TC, bless her cotton socks, sprang up before dawn and led us up to the roof to catch the sunrise:
The rectangular low blocks are covered air shafts for the rooms below. In the car park in the distance, Janet the Jeep waits patiently.
After breakfast, we explored the opal mines. Mounds of white dirt encircle the mine shafts. Take care, dear traveller, not to misstep and fall down a hole:
Pieces of equipment stand around, some in use, some not:
Inventive methods are used to cover open shafts, like these old bed frames:
Underneath the bed frames:
Swallows perch on old metal drums, which are also used to warn of open mine shafts:
Old working vehicles rest in peace, like this Commer truck:
Your trusty bookmark cosied up to Commer the Truck:
Janet the Jeep needed fuel, but we discovered that the fuel station at White Cliffs opens late on Sundays. Janet was keen to be on the road again, so the TC Once Removed (he’s the TC’s other travelling companion) topped up from our spare tank:
Bonus tip from the TC Once Removed: Cover your sleeves and wear gloves if you can, otherwise you’ll smell of fuel for the rest of the trip.
Stay tuned for more of our Outback adventures. Until my next post…
This is the blog of Mark Wordsworm, the travelling worm. I’m a 40-year-old bookmark (give or take a few years) and I proudly boast my own Hallmark serial number, 95 HBM 80-1. You’ll probably want to read all about me and my Travelling Companion (the TC).
Today’s travel notes
Me and the TC drove the historic Bridle Track and the scenic Root Hog Road this weekend with a group of friends. We camped overnight at Mary Flynn Reserve on the Bridle Track.
The book I’m in
Ten Days in A Mad-House, by Nellie Bly. A somewhat horrifying true tale of a reporter in 1887, who had herself checked into an asylum for the insane and wrote a book about her experiences.
Travel tips
You need a four-wheel drive vehicle to follow the tracks mentioned in this post. If you decide not to camp nor to stop at the various reserves along the way, you can drive the Bridle Track in two to three hours.
The photos
Me with Janet the Jeep and Peg:
Introducing the newest member of our merry menagerie: Janet the Jeep. She’s a 2014 Jeep JK Wrangler, manual transmission, with a 3.6 litre, 6-cylinder petrol engine. She has two side doors rather than four, and is known as a shortie because of her short wheel base. Unlike yours truly, Janet is not built for speed but she’s plucky and strong. More like Peg, in fact.
A keen-eyed reader might notice the little Jeep icon on the windscreen next to this worm. Janet is cute, and she knows it.
At the start of the Bridle Track, a sign explains the need for a 4WD vehicle and due care:
Most of the track is a well-graded dirt road. In some sections, there’s a high rocky wall on one side and a steep drop-off on the other. In this section, the road curved through a rocky bluff:
In years gone by, one specific section of the Bridle Track was very narrow and slippery: the infamous Monaghan’s Bluff. NSW state has since built a bypass, though a sign still greets you as you enter the area:
The Bridle Track was built in the early 1800s, to give gold miners and settlers a route from Bathurst to Hill End. Bathurst is now a thriving regional city and Hill End is a small town that welcomes visitors interested in the history of the area.
Right on the side of the Bridle Track is an abandoned mine shaft. The brave can walk into it. The TC, bless her cotton socks, counts herself as one of the brave. She found that she could stand, with head slightly bowed, in the tunnel:
We camped at the beautiful Mary Flynn Reserve. This view shows part of the campground and surrounding area, taken from the Bridle Track before descending into the valley:
The Turon River flows past the campsite:
As the sun goes down, Janet stands guard over the TC’s tent:
A rainbow campfire, thanks to minerals added by one of the campers:
In the chill of the early morning (it was 6° Centigrade), the sun warms up the rocks on the opposite side of the river, while neighbours get their campfire going down below:
After packing up our camp, we drove back along the Bridle Track to Root Hog Crossing. This is a crossing of the Macquarie River, at the junction of the Bridle Track and Root Hog Road. The river level was on the high side (measured at about 1 metre at the Rock Forest station), and there was a reasonably strong current. Janet says that it’s the strongest current she’s tackled to date:
Thanks to our friend Matt for making the video.
Before doing a trip like this, the TC does plenty of research. She checks the river levels over a couple of weeks, to see what the river’s doing. She also monitors the fire warnings and weather forecasts. On reaching the river crossing, if it looks a bit high or strong current, she’d walk into it first. If you can’t walk the current, then the car can’t take it either. For this crossing, luckily there was a group of three cars doing the crossing when we arrived. We watched them, and judged it safe for our vehicles.
Root Hog Road is the road of views:
The next couple of photos are from a previous trip, when we traversed Root Hog Road in the opposite direction. A couple of motorbikes passed us when we stopped to take in the view:
Another road sign advised due caution:
Also from our previous trip, this video shows the last part of Root Hog Road as it drops towards the Macquarie River at the junction of Root Hog Road and the Bridle Track. The crossing is to the right, but we turned to the left to take a look at the river and campground:
Cleanup on the day after this week’s trip. Janet got her carpets wet in the Root Hog Crossing, and her paintwork was dusty. The tent was damp from the morning dew:
Travelling Worm 