It’s a Monday morning in the whistle stop village of Dajarra, 150klms south of Mt Isa. I’ve spent the weekend at a free camp, all footy’ed out, with blue skies and the open road beckoning me once more. An early start would get me to Mt Isa by late morning and maybe one night in a caravan park. I should have remembered the folly of the carefree, joie de vivre attitude I had that morning. It is not looked on at all favourably by a universe that regards such exhuberance as hubris, and therefore an open invitation to punish such willful self-indulgence.
And, sure enough, it did. Barely 10 minutes into the drive, a casual check of the temperature gauge resulted in an immediate pull-over and an hour wait for the engine to at least start to cool down. Initially I though that I had neglected the top-up tank and very slowly trickled water back in. Clearly the engine was not all happy about it – gurgling and hissing. She eventually quietened down and I set off again – but only for 8klms. Same problem, another hours wait, but I knew enough to stop well before the gauge peaked again. If this was to continue, it would take me about 3 days to get to Mt Isa. I had to push on, a bit at at a time.
The peace I felt in the silence of the lookout only three days before, was replaced by consternation, at the lack of of sounds of civilization. Despite the wide horizon, the walls were starting to close in. Road traffic was minimal, yet nearly everyone that saw the bonnet up, stopped to offer help. I gave my NRMA details to one couple who promised to ring through a call for help when they got to Dajarra. It was a long shot. I was fearful of leaving everything on the side of the road, but the one and only rest area was still 15klms away and it it was already 1pm. I had no idea what the problem was.
And then luck started to turn. I decided to drive the car in neutral as often as I could and made that rest stop in one hop. The rig was now safe’ish. As I arrived, two vans travelling together were just getting ready to leave, and I bummed a lift with my new BF all the way to Mt Isa.
Un-beknowns, that couple were able to report my predicament to NRMA. Long story short, I soon found myself riding shotgun in a RACQ flat top tilt-tray 120klms back to the Jeep and then back to Mt Isa, again. Another ‘ride-of-shame’. So, once again, a fool and his Jeep were soon parted and I had a new temporary home at the Mount Isa tourist Park. As it turned out, a blown water pump was the evil that beset me but then the fiscal sky got very dark. A last test drive before pick-up revealed a blown head gasket was the collateral damage and my stay would be about a month. The cost? Somewhere north of $7000. The Jeep has two heads (of course it does) and it’s $1000 each just to have them reconditioned, plus, plus and more plus. Go Fund Me page loyal readers? (lol) Luckily, NRMA covered my site fees and a can get a hire car if I need one from time to time.
Still, I find myself imprisoned for the next four weeks and no chance of an early release. Even the guy at the Information Centre couldn’t get excited about the Mt Isa highlights (there is an underground hospital and mine tour, but well, I’d been there done that). No point in laying around feeling sorry for myself. There’s always an upside -my aerobic fitness is through the roof and man, did the van get a spring clean or what? And…there was one place that was worth a hire car…Lake Moondarra.
Only twenty minutes away, it’s an oasis and refuge for man and wildlife alike. What a contrast to the dust and smoke of Mt Isa. Picnic perfect as they say and a great place to cool off.
So, this is why I have you trailing behind real time events. Unforeseen trials and tribulations are just part of a journey like this and six weeks of nothing interesting would make for pretty poor reading. However you may be pleased to know that that we now have readers from 32 countries as far away as Finland and Alaska, with no self-promotion. I’m grateful for your continued interest and commitment, two qualities I reciprocate in spades.
