Salvation at the Pentecost river (ozzie style)
If I had thought the track had been bumpy in and out of the Bungle Bungles, we were in for an extended version of the same as we began our drive along the famous Gibb River road, which is closed to most vehicles during the wet season, and should generally only be braved by those driving 4 wheel drives or similar monsters. It stretches right through the Kimberley region for over 600 km of rugged terrain from the town of Kununnura. The road houses at sparse locations along the way all boast tourist pariphanalia with statements like ‘I survived the Gibb River Road’ with distressed cartoon figures screaming manically.
Before we got shaken and rattled in the four wheel drive though, we stopped for a dip in the Zebedee hot springs. It was a small secluded spot covered over with luscious greenery and water that flashed and shimmered in the speckled sunlight. Once we´d managed to inch our way over the slippery rocks and settle in the luke warm water, it felt like a tropical haven. The water only came up to our waist, but it was definitely the most incredible ´spa´ I have been in!
Back onto the Gibb River road, and it was here that the four wheel drive really showed us what it was capable of handling as we crossed right over the Pentecost river. Slowly but steadily, this beast of a vehicle traversed the rocks in the riverbed, while battling the waters that almost covered the wheels entirely. I just looked on in amazement, and prayed we would get to the other side, meanwhile not quite being able to shake off the fact that saltwater crocodiles inhabited it.
We did reach the other side, but the fear of breaking down in the middle of the pentecost river was not a totally unfounded one. Our guide stopped a little further along at a fantastic lookout over the coburn ranges, to follow up a hunch she had that something was not quite right with the trailer at the back.
It turned out her instincts were spot on, and one of the bolts had completely come off! With the Gibb River road as rough and unforgiving as it was, we could easily have had problems with a capsized trailer, and thank goodness it had not happened in the Pentecost river!
It was this thought that kept our group from grumbling too much as we sat and stood helplessly in the heat (using the truck as our means of shade), as our guide lay under the four wheel drive heaving and straining with spanners, screws and wrenches, trying to work her mechanic magic. With one vital piece of the puzzle missing, our saviour came in the form of that stereotypical image of everything you would imagine a Aussie male in the deserted outback to encompass.
He swaggered out of his white truck in bare feet wearing grubby shorts, chequered lumberjack shirt and bush hat. To make the whole picture even more perfect, he had a can of Victoria Bitter Beer in his hand, complete with stubby holder.
He may not have turned water into wine, or walked on water, but this bedraggled ozzie man was our own outback miracle, and after pulling out a huge toolbox and scrambling through its contents, he brought forth the blessed bolt that brought salvation to our trailer, and got us back on (the ever bumpy) track. I could go on further with the fitting nature of the river ’Pentecost’, but I will leave the redemption analogies to one side now : )
We were told the story of Smokey Joe to accompany the views over the Colburn ranges, the tale of a legendary horse rustler or ´duffer´, who took the horses he had snaffled high up in the mountains through a secret route and kept them there during the wet season, where his tracks would have been washed away, re-branding them, and selling them on to other stations when they were needed most.
We did get to our campsite that evening eventually, in enough time to watch a spectacularly picturesque outback sunset through the trees, which carried with it that earthy firey glow that I have not ever quite seen the like of before in any other country.
