csr

when i was little, our family went 4wding into the outback. three weeks at a time. three times. the simpson desert, the northern territory, uluru; the lot.

i don't remember all that much of it, apart from being wedged between my brothers, hair flailing everywhere thanks to their insistence that, yes, in fact, BOTH of their windows needed to be down. that and memories of big red, lake eyre, camping, swimming in an oasis, running away into the desert with alice (God definitely looked after us..), and squatting between two car doors whenever i needed the loo.

in fact, i remember quite a bit more than i initially thought i did... including writing a 'novel' (i think i planned it to be a trilogy.. started writing it in longreach, home of qantas.. a romance/drama), reading 'sophie's world' and asking what the word 'thus' meant. our ritual campsite by the waterhole at innamincka, where the rices would set up their swing and we'd sit by the campfire and singing 'kumbaya' at the top of our lungs to deter any travelers who dared intrude upon our campsite. as you could imagine, singing is a very approximate term for the racket we made.

i remember goldpanning at broken hill, convinced that i would be the exceptional case, and find a nugget. lightening ridge, and white cliffs. breaking open veins of opalised quartz with our pickaxes, before running over a hill of dirt, only to discover that it was in fact a bull ant hill. we promptly departed.

i remember the caravan parks, one in particular in alice springs, i think it must've been. running through the roads, following my visual memory to the place where a new friend would be playing. and tang. oh tang. how we hated you. and deb.

ochre mines, where we'd collect it to use as paint. the ritual every night, where us kids would run out and collect kindling whilst dad and ray would get the big branches for the fire. every morning, waking early and packing up camp. the radio.

the cold nights under the the blanket of stars. they felt closer than most streetlights do back at home.

us kids would feel very cool with all the travelers etiquette our parents would engage in, like indicating to a passing 4wd how many more vehicles there were to come with a nonchalant gesture with a few fingers as they rested on the steering wheel. pushing forward on the windscreen as we passed them to prevent little stones from cracking it. the sand flags flapping up in the air.

... and on it goes.

wow. i do remember. i love that memory works like that. you start digging, and synapses that haven't been traversed for decades clunk into gear. and out of the dust emerge all sorts of visuals... in fact, i just got one then. of a campsite, with very long grass, near a river or a water basin of some sort. of crossing a river that had flooded with our car snorkel. of a desperate night move in the middle of nowhere (well, the desert is nowhere, but this was a particularly nowhereish nowhere in nowhere) when torrential rain threatened to bog us for days. i remember feeling the danger, but not really understanding it, only seeing the half-masked panicked expressions in my parents' faces. i also remember my first drive. i also remember the living room of what must've been the ranch house of a property we drove through, stopping off to use some of their water, it was filled with little knick knacks, and there was a piano. i remember the enormous termite mounds reaching out of the otherwise flattened landscape. the red. the vast redness in bold but comfortable conversation with the strong blue skies.

... reminiscing is addictive, hey.

but, the point is, that i feel like i was too young to appreciate much of it. the landscapes didn't really impress me (aside from on top of uluru... along which i ran, defying death and nearly giving my mum an aneurysm). the stars. the campfires.

that's why it excites me so much that dad and i are planning to do the canning stock route next year. we'll have to find some others to join the convoy; dad reckons the clarkes will be keen.

but, heck. i'm so excited.

http://www.australiangeographic.com.au/journal/the-canning-stock-route.htm
http://www.exploroz.com/TrekNotes/WDeserts/Canning_Stock_Route.aspx

would love to do the csr, to halls creek, then keep going up to the kimberley. then maybe go back to broome, then trace the western australian coastline.
that would be cool.

incredible, in fact.