Report by Daphne Salt
After a comfortable night in the Redruth Christian Convention Centre, we awoke at 6am to the melodious drone of Peter’s snores – eventually rolling along, following a discussion on last nights scenic nocturnal tour of Burra. 9.30am found us stopping in fog for a brief overview of the open cut copper mine and Australia’s first mine at Burra.
On arriving at Hawker the convoy headed past Wilpena Pound and Oraparinna Homestead to Brachina Gorge – an excitingly scenic drive.
The Flinders Ranges are one of the most ancient landscapes on earth – laid down beneath the sea as accumulated sediment. Enormous forces in the earth’s crust some 1000 million years ago caused these rocks to be uplifted, folded, buckled and fractured, causing a rugged mountain range. Erosion followed by further uplifting once more 70 million years ago turned the mountains on their sides giving the beautiful vertical striation layers seen today.
Vestiges of ambition, hopes and despair stand in the many abandoned homesteads of the 1870s and 1880s. They bear witness to uncompromising weather, conditions and Aboriginals.
The name “Brachina” is derived from the Aboriginal word ‘vachina’ meaning cranky, referring to a mythical argument between birds over a grindstone.
The drive in took us down the bed of the river – the road runs down the river bed – incredible colours highlighted in the sun met us on both sides of the road from the rugged towering mountains which form the Brachina Gorge. Arrived at grassy campsite 1 hour before dusk, set up camp and unloaded the timber from the roof racks for the campfire. Roast legs of lamb, cooked in the camp ovens served with potatoes, vegs and mint sauce. The evening culminated in the judging of dampers cooked by the kids – won by the one which was not runny on the inside and cremated on the crust.
Good onya Brent – I will never forget that trip, the wheelies & their medical support team, TLCC members, you of course and the music man. Thanks to Caroline for making it happen. I can still hear in my mind Pete’s voice at 6am calling out from his sleeping bag at Yalara campground “the dingo took my samich”
After conquering Big Red I left half a dozen cans of Birdsville XXXX on a table in the Birdsville Pub at the conclusion of our concert evening and remembered them too late as we were driving off down the track.
Congratulations and best wishes to everyone who participated in Foxtrot Papa.