The last few days have had more than our fair spare of swings and roundabouts. As we prepared to leave Marble Bar, we decided to check that my CPAP machine would operate on the caravan battery. For whatever reason (maybe the universe decided to play a game with us), the CPAP battery and the plug failed to talk to each other. Bollocks. Yet another spanner in the works. After a few fretful minutes. we decided to extend our stay in Marble Bar for another night and explore our options. We secured two nights at Meentheena Veterans Retreat with the promise of an extension cord for my CPAP machine if required. Suddenly, we had an extra day for exploration.
We set out for the Bamboo Creek mining area, hoping for some fossicking. Unfortunately, Bamboo Creek turned out to be an active mining site with unfriendly locked gates. Momentarily subdued, we then decided to head for Coppins Gap, a place we had heard about, but really knew nothing of its significance.
Coppins Gap could be viewed from the main gravel road. The vista appeared to suggest a V shaped slice carved out of the surrounding hills. We grew more excited as we approached the Gap. This was obviously a formation that thrilled those who made the trek from Marble Bar to the Gap's location.
I have seen photographs of the Bungle Bungles and Central Australia. We have flown over Uluru. I have been wowed by the majesty of Mount Augustus, which is twice the size of Uluru and yet remains lesser known. We have been awestruck by the concept of the Kennedy Ranges' violent birth. I have traversed (and stumbled!) through Kalamina and Dales gorges within Karijini National Park. But never in my wildest dreams did I expect Coppins Gap, a day outing close to Marble Bar, to completely and utterly blow my mind.
Rowan and Kacey from Cairns had secured a beautiful camp site by a billabong just outside the Gap. Although younger and fitter than us, I was determined to reach as far into the Gap as possible. Two permanent waterholes were absolutely breathtaking, one wholly inside and the other just beyond. I very carefully navigated my way across the rocks, sliding on my bum when necessary. Rowan's story of a group having to carry a woman with a broken ankle rang in my ears, so I considered each step. There was no way I wished to emulate that lady's unfortunate circumstances.
Eventually, I arrived at the "beach" at the end of the first pool. Even more determined to follow Kacey to the second, I gingerly navigated the non existent track. Fallen trees made the trek a tad more challenging. We assumed that the April's cyclonic rains had flooded through Coppins Gap and uprooted any vegetation that could not withstand the torrent.
The further pool was shimmering in the full glory of the afternoon sun. I was thrilled that I had managed this feat. Kacey and I chatted whilst drinking in the vista. I watched her clamber back over some high rocks and considered my own return route.
I choose to enter the water and follow the bank, rather than attempt to emulate a mountain goat. This strategy mostly worked well until I had a minor mishap close to the end, slipping gracelessly onto my well padded arse. Luckily, I sustained no injuries except for my slighted dented dignity. Onto my knees and then upright would not have scored me any points for "Dancing with the Stars" but I successfully returned to our starting point, much to Michael's relief. And mine!
Returning to our camp at Marble Bar, I decided to check one more time if my CPAP would work off the caravan's battery. With no effort whatsoever, my device roared into life. Typical...
We left for Meentheena the following morning. Now confident of the battery, we were excited at the prospect of being able to camp anywhere at the outcamp. Tales of the retreat's beauty spurred us on. The Pilbara scenery continued to delight. We arrived at Meentheena in the early afternoon. Welcomed by the amiable camp host Paul, we set out with a mud map for the Paperbarks camping area.
There were already two other caravans there. The south easterly desert wind was whipping up dust and I was not enthralled by the multitude of cow pats all through the dirt. There was scant shade and rather a trek to the one composting loo. We returned to the main camp and set up just outside the gates. In hindsight, we should have parked Will on harder and more level ground inside the compound. But Michael's sore heel was becoming more painful, so he just wanted to rest in privacy. Hence, we stayed put.
I went for a most pleasant walk in the late afternoon. The station's tip remained elusive and I did not want to plunge into the waist high spinifex in case of an encounter with Mister King Brown. Following my stroll, I then joined Paul and his wife Mary and a few other guests for a drink around the communal camp fire.
Michael continued to be in pain the following day. He was most upset at this turn of events but we were determined to scout the abandoned Ragged Hills Mining Centre. Visiting this destination had been our primary reason for staying at Meentheena; to be within striking range of Ragged Hills and ascertain its suitability for a longer stay.
The mining centre was not easy to find. However, upon arrival, we did spy a splendid camping spot with shade, shelter from the wind and next to a pleasant waterhole. First tick of approval.
Ragged Hills just had to be seen to be believed. An enormous gash in the countryside had been carved to mine for lead and silver. There were remains of concrete pads away from the mine itself that we guessed were the foundations of accommodation huts. The thought of working and living in this incredibly unforgiving landscape and harsh climate just reinforced the tenacity of those miners. Women and children? We had no idea whether families had lived there as well.
We spent several hours wandering around amongst the abandoned infrastructure, all echoing of past endeavours. Michael was able to explain the roles of the machines and the structures, which helped my understanding of the mine, whilst trying to imagine the brutality of the conditions. Ragged Hills would have been no place for wimps.
We decided then and there that we would return to Ragged Hills.
Back to Meentheena. The wind continued unabated and I was growing weary of crunching dust between my teeth. And without phone or internet, our choices for entertainment were rather limited and being outside became just too unpleasant. So we read and chatted and retired to bed early.
Yesterday, we travelled to Nullagine. We had stayed here once before and had been put off by the appalling Skull Springs Road, which headed east towards Running Waters and Carawine Gorge. This time, we headed south from just outside of Marble Bar on a reasonable, albeit very dusty gravel road. The country continued to be a photographer's paradise. Michael had taped cardboard across all the vents to reduce the amount of dust permeating Will's interior, which worked fairly well. However, cleaning Will was still a major operation, not helped by salad dressing spilling in the fridge.
We were both grumpy and tired. However, our well being and sanity was saved by the Nullagine Caravan Park's beautiful new ablutions with plentiful hot water to sluice the Meentheena dust off our hair and bodies. Absolute unadulterated bliss.
Today, we have more clothes and dishes washing to attack. Then, armed with the excellent CRC brochure, we intend to conduct an investigative tour of a couple of local mining centres. Nullagine appears to have some hidden treasures for even the most elderly and infirm fossickers!
