I wasn’t sure how long I’d be staying in Boulia. I had a few days to spare before Mt Isa. But, as fate would have it, a bit of that time was consumed with the ‘invasion’ by the Shitbox Rally, a ragtag, conga line of 225 noisy, garrulous motors on an odyssey between Melbourne and Alice Springs. The go-to method of raising funds for worthwhile courses. No vehicle worth more than $1500 and many, a lot less I would think. It was only mentioned in passing when I went into town that morning but had no hesitation in re-arranging my day to watch the ‘parade’. They descended like locusts on the only servo in town and soon a line of rogue vehicles stretched out along the road.
The cars ranged from Volvos to VW’s and none of them sounded like they had long to live. The drivers and crew were excited and boisterous. Everyone was having a great time and had no problem playing up to the camera.
These rallies are super organised with support vehicles and even a medical assistance crew. It looks like it wasn’t really a race but everyone who participated saw themselves as winners. A lot of laughter, irreverence and bush mechanics who happily rallied around the unfortunate souls who had come to grief along the way.
Of course, once the cars were refueled, the drivers also needed ‘refueling’ and the conversations reconvened to the pub across the road, leaving their cars parked in some kind of Le Mans starting grid, or end on end down the side streets. It was pleasing to see many of the drivers were women, many knowing cancer victims or recovering themselves. Each team has to raise $5000 in order to participate, so you can, see at 225 cars, it’s a big deal.
And that’s where I left them. There were a couple of early leavers. The caravan was moving on. I confess, the thought of adding a charity rally to my bucket list crossed my mind more than once. It was a great experience and a great bunch of people.
With the ‘circus’ moving on, things quietened down an awful lot. Boulia is famous for it’s annual camel races, so it wasn’t a total shock to come across a caravan of a different type on the short run home. A dozen or so camels grazing nonchalantly (as only camels can) and very blase about having their photo taken. The next day, finally got to the Min-Min Centre and their animatronics telling of the min-min lights story. It was cute listening to the ‘actors’ tell their story as I moved from room to room. Animatronic stories are rare and with the technology available today, perhaps on borrowed time.
It’s now Saturday morning and on the spur of the moment, I decided to break up the run to Mt Isa and pay a visit to Dajarra. Little was I to know that I would become much more intimate with the term Shitbox Rally than I would ever have imagined.
