Out of the Bush

Written in pen and paper 25th February 2015

We carefully drove away and made it out of the dunes; too dark and too late to make it up to the next road house. So we drove from Red Rock towards 'Out of Africa' and kept going up until the house... Wait. House?! This must be the home of the 'private people'. 'Stop! Go Back!' the sign read, so that we did.
We camped on the beach and after some much needed food we packed the car up and pointed it in-land with nothing in the way of the drives side or seat just incase the tide came in to swamp the car - the last thing we needed right now.

All was well and after an early start with birds surrounding us (and Marco thinking they were contemplating attacking him) we headed inland for breakfast. After a short drive further we finally met the highway, who knew a bitumen road could bring so much delight.

On the way to Mandrabilla we crossed a cyclist and took our usual dashboard photo before hitting the roadhouse. When we stopped at the road house we treated ourselves to brunch, well deserved after yesterday's escapade. During our very delicious eatings the cyclist showed - he's doing Perth - Sydney on a push bike! 150km a day! After a selfie and an exchange of pictures between he and Marco it was back on the road trying to find a 4wd track.

The car after the journey!

After a little back and forth we managed to get on the track. We went to Eucla jetty and took a few pictures. If the weather was warmer and we weren't so exhausted from our previous day's shenanigans then we probably would have a swim. Instead, we were both now desperate for a shower - a day of immense sand and sweating the day before had us running for the next roadhouses... ok, driving.




That $1 shower was worth every cent! Now that we were all shiny and clean it was time for more off roading in some MORE dunes, although this time with less risks (hopefully!).

You'll not believe it, but we found an armchair. No jokes! Actually, that will go nicely with the tv we found earlier in our trip. After a short armchair rest we were back on our way.






After two and a half weeks on the road  we finally hit the boarder between WA and SA. Stopping to take a picture, obviously! (Two and a half weeks?! We could have probably driving from Liverpool to Turin in that time).

Border picture! WE MADE IT!

After a little more 4wd we hit the highway again, caught a look at the Great Australian Bight. Yomp. Scary and magnificent view to behold.

Once we tried working out the damn time (too many changes without much notice), 3 clocks between us and not one match; I think we should get a sundial. Although the sundial would be obsolete given it was now dark. Dark? Must be time for sleep. To a gravel pit for a good nights rest.

Buonanotte!

The Great Escape

Written in pen and paper 24th February 2015

We both stood scratching our heads. Now what?

The only means of holding up the car to stick a wheel on was crushed underneath it and stuck fast. 

Moving, well attempting to move, the sand had no bearing. We had to keep the car as level as possible and prevent it from tilting further without the wheel on to keep it stable. Marco suggested we dig at the side of the car and stick the broken tyre underneath, more hand paddling commenced.

Attempt one achieved nothing so we had to keep moving sand, I tried not to feel defeatist as just as much sand was falling back down. 

Attempt two was almost but not quite... more paddling 

And on attempt three we made it!

With the reduced risk of the car tilting we had to find a way to get the jack out, if we just dug sand away the car would sink and the wheel wasn't enough support alone.

We had to think, and think fast.

Rocks! Marco remembered the beach had rocks so we to get them, initially, and stupidly, without flip flops. I went back to get them and also the last bottle of water. Shit, the last bottle of water.

I arrived faster with flip flops and we got some large sand stones, bloody sand. 

More frustrating was the perfectly groomed track we could have been on, just over the hill.

Marco wanted to take a short cut through the bushes with his aptly named red rocks, and I went the long way with mine. I got back first, Marco had thrown one of his rocks down on to the sand and it split, that didn't bode well.

He finally found a way around and we managed to wedge 4 of the rocks under the car, 2 near the wheel at the side and 2 at the back.

Still, the jack was wedged underneath and the sun was on the descent, how much daylight did we have left?

Marco got the shovel and started to dig down around the wheel, continuously digging, shovel after shovel and no release.

I suggested we pump up 2 of the tyres to give the car a little more height, anything was an option at this stage. In  the midst of pumping up the back tyre, (the one that was still on) I heard a little voice say "I've got the map", the atlas was out, not an integral requirement but the progress was sweet.

I went and pumped up the front tyre on the missing side and Marco kept digging, at this rate we would make Europe by morning.

The tyre was inflated and the sand was lower, much sweating later we got the Italian-Australia book out... Just. The. Jack. Left...

We got it!

The water was drank but the jack was out, lets assess the situation; the rocks were holding strong, the support tyre was of no use now, but we were leaving it there regardless. 

How to jack up the car without another incident?

We needed more than a crushed atlas. 

Marco used the remaining rock to support the jack and given the place it should stand was inaccessible we had to stick it at the back precariously, there were few options left.

As Marco jacked up the car I checked its progress, the vehicle was moving up, but the car wheel axle was moving down... oh crap.

The jack had gone as far as it could but luckily the wheel axle had raised, albeit, slightly.

Not enough space to fit the tyre and we had once again missed lunch, I daren't climb in the car to get the food, the last thing we needed was extra weight in the insecurely balanced car. Forget the food, keep digging.

Marco kept digging, I tried paddling with my hands but they just got in the way, so my job was to keep a close eye on the jack. With us both thinking we were ready for the tyre I rolled it over to Marco and we tried sticking it on; rolling it took a lot of sand with it. Unhelpful. It was about half an inch too high so it was carefully removed to avoid anymore sand fall and Marco carried on digging. Second try, nearly, nearly. Third try? Will it be third time lucky? YES! It was on, quick Becca, get the screws! 

With difficulty and Marco pulling professional yoga positions (those Sunday classes worked a treat hey?) he got the screws on and the tyre was secure! Hallelujah! But how do we get out of the massive hole we've dug? Rocks under each side of the wheel, the other tyre pulled out, tyres deflated, I stood and watched Marco rev the car out, with some of the sand refilled in the gap - we had done it.

Then we repacked the car and got back on our relieved way!

Dunetastic!

Written in pen and paper, date unknown.

Marco got up to watch the sun rise, 
I peeped and saw the colours of the sky, much like the sunset so I went back to sleep - I know he wanted an early start, so sleep was imperative. 

Marco delicately woke me up, after a week he's recognised I'm a grump in the morning, he also had a cup of tea ready for me, what a legend! So it was up, up and away.

We got to Madura about 8ish, got bread, fuel, fuses and an early morning ice-cream, as you do. 

After Madure, I drove down the highway before swapping with Marco for the 4wd. Just off the highway in the bush, the car started to slide out of control, one way, then the next, the front, then the back, my side of the car coming off it's wheels at one stage; I was bracing myself for it to roll. My heart was in my throat. Marco impressively managed to regain control and straighten us out, we are so lucky that no trees were around for us to crash in to, maybe drive a little slower now eh?

12 psi for the tyres now, 
we drove down towards the beach to meet Red Rocks Point. We kept following our own tyre marks to find the way. After using a rusted bus in a field for reference, we circled around the field, then doubled back over our tracks, twice. Still not finding the way we headed back in to the bushes. 

On a high dune we got out to look for a track by foot. Marco found it and we reversed to get on it, crunch! The back left wheel guard had cracked off so it was repair time again. Out Marco got in the blazing sun, I mistakenly thought it would be a quick fix, wrong!

I couldn't let the poor boy crisp up so I suncreamed his neck and arms, then his majesty requested shade, so, I, the doting travel mate, obliged and used the sleeping bag to create shade. Once it was screwed back in we used the magic tape to tape it back on and get back on track.

We reached the dunes, dune after massive dune with white sand. We lost the tracks completely and drove around and around and around and around, dune, dune, dune. It was getting frustrating and seemingly no way forward; the last thing we wanted was to go back.

So we went round more and more, revving aggressively up steep dunes and easing gently down the other side, no rolling thank you! 

Enough was enough. We got out the car and walked to find the track, even with my thumping headache.

More going around and around, on feet, sand, sand, sand... do we admit defeat and go back? I think it's time to... WAIT. Marco found the way. YES! Time to get off these cursed dunes! 

On the track we went, Marco telling his baby girl she'll get treated in Adelaide, no sooner had that been said than a tyre had blown. We're on sand, in the middle of god knows where, not as easy as it sounds to change a tyre on sand. The one saving grace was that it was on the shady side. Time to use the trusty spare on the back.

Problem No.1, we are on sand so how will we use the jack? Tools in the car are limited, best options in a large atlas and a hardback book about Australia written in Italian. 

Problem No 2, too much sand. We jacked up the car, unscrewed the wheel and hand paddled away as much sand as we could.

Problem No. 3, the wheel won't release. With a little gentle persuasion the wheel came off, i.e. wiggling and pulling. 

Once the wheel came off problem No.4 happened, the jack collapsed and got stuck under the weight of the car...

We are screwed...