Queensland: 26.08. – 11.09.2011

After we managed 600 sand dunes, we now had 14 creeks waiting for us. Afterwards we figured that the term ‘creek’ might be a bit misleading, because whole lakes opened up in front of us, but let’s start from the beginning.

From Birdsville we headed in slalom like style northwards. The reason for this newly developed driving style was not the underground or our boredom, but  lots of bearded dragons that thought the road is an ideal spot to heat up in the sun or race in a suicidal way across it. Our intention was the most northerly point of the Australian mainland: Cape York. To get there one has two choices; one a wide heavily corrugated gravel road or two the dead straight maintenance track along the old telegraph line. In the meantime however this track is only used by crazy Off Road Vehicle drivers as the track itself wasn’t maintained in years. Hmm, that seemed just the thing for us.

Via a couple of shortcuts, far off any tourists we reached the ‘main road’ that brought us to our adventure. At the Bramwell Junction, one of the many roadhouses on the peninsula, we said good bye to the corrugation and four kilometers further, the first hole in the ground opened up. ‘Nooo, this can’t be the way!’ it came from the passenger seat. But the track and the driver did not have any mercy and after close investigations it went head on into the hole. Sonja who stood on the other side of Palm Creek had a perfect view onto Nisto’s roof; unfortunately she forgot to press the shutter on the camera. After this mean step there was no way back, we had our doubts that Nisto would make it up again. But anyhow we did not plan to turn around, this seemed to promise just what we came here for; Adventure pure. So Nisto went northwards along the trail. Washouts, potholes and creek crossings let the adrenaline level especially at the female part of the N-Team rise to soaring heights. We remembered our little adventure in Chile, where we got into uncomfortable leaning situation. Here we realized how far off we have been from falling over.

Always when the track changed to channel like shape it was clear another creek crossing is about to come. And none of them have been like the one before; some where deceptive clear others murky, some were fast flowing others were still, some were sandy others muddy, some had gravel others where solid rock, some had huge holes that would eat Nisto whole others where plain simple and some had some of it all. Out of principle no matter what the creek looks like, you get out and check it, because only that way you can find a safe way thru it. By doing so we of course trusted that if there would be Crocs present that there would be signs telling us. After we managed the first four creeks we set up camp at the Dulhunty river, enjoyed a refreshing dip and the visit of a Palm Cockatoo.

First thing next morning would be the infamous and in the past the most difficult crossing with the promising name ‘Gunshot Creek’. Many vehicles have ripped off whole parts and some of them even landed on the roof. This year however it was one of the simple ones, provided that you do not take the track that drops five meters vertically. In the mean time we had a feeling that we have seen all kinds of crossings and washouts and there would not be too much news. As we stud in front of a wooden bridge that only contained bare logs, nervousness rose in the whole N-Team would it carry Nisto and all his weight? A peek at the construction showed that at least one bridge has collapsed at this site and the new construct was just built up on the remains. But nothing helped we had to go forward, turning around at this stage was no option. With Sonja as guide, Markus guided Nisto onto the logs. Up until the last half meter the bridge remained solid and silent, but as cracking sound were heard the gas pedal was hit and we managed it safely to the other side.

But there was nothing with relaxing, because 13 kilometers later the deepest and last crossing of the trail was waiting to be mastered. On the other end a group of young Aussies set up camp and immediately showed up as they heard us approaching. They offered to tow us thru, as they have witnessed how another vehicle with trailer got bogged and filled up, they then towed one after the other safely thru. After walking thru and choosing a route, we declined thankfully, we got a good feeling that Nisto would manage it himself. After deploying all tools, Markus led Nisto into the water and he slid thru it like a boat, without any problem. Of course a little proud, as we managed the Old Telegraph Track without any help, we could finally relax.

The next morning we had a peek at the Jardine River, it originally belonged to the OTT as well, but since many years it is said to be impassable. Of course temptation was great, but with Salties present we would not want to risk the negotiation of the 170 meter wide river and without that any attempt would be suicidal at least for Nisto. So, like all the others, we took the ferry.

But the Cape had more to offer. After we shot the mandatory picture with us at the most northerly point, we returned along the corrugated highway a bit earlier than planned. Sky opened up its locks and we got spoilt with rain. Along the way in a Roadhouse we met Caro and Michi again, the Swiss couple who bought their LandCruiser in Sydney first met us at the tip. After a couple minutes of news exchange we decided to join up for another track that would bring us to the East Coast of the peninsula. Of course there would be an easy way, but who likes to do the same way twice.

We would use two days for this 70 kilometer long trip. Bad washouts, potholes, mud and two rivers let us only travel at very slow speed. Besides that our spare wheel including dive tanks decided to take a trip of their own. At a mud hole crossing Nisto hit the ground uncomfortably and the wheel jumped off its bracket and the whole package landed in the water. The biggest obstacle however was the Pascoe River, the approach was steep and full of big boulders, as was the crossing, fortunately it was only about as deep as a wheel. But the ascent on the other side was tight steep and muddy what made the whole thing even trickier. None of us really wanted to turn around as we only have been a few kilometers from the ‘real road’ so heads down and thru. Slowly our Troopies descended down the hill. For the crossing we prepared the winches, just in case we got ourselves stuck in the middle. Everything went flawless and now we only had to climb thru the mud on the other side. Thanks to Nisto’s difflocks he managed it without a problem. Though Caro and Michi’s dear companion spun thru half way up, but what do you have a winch for? Exactly for these situations, Nisto played anchor and that way also Michi could pull himself up without anyone’s help. After two hours we were safely on the other side of the river and cheered with Champagne to our success on the Frenchman Track.

The next day we relaxed at Chili Beach, before we headed straight for the Lakefield National Park, the Bloomfield Track and thru the rainforest towards Cairns. On one hike in the Daintree National Park we even have been lucky enough and saw a rare Cassowary.

In Cairns we settled for the first time in weeks on an official Campground. But which terrible news we got there you can only read in the next report.

Till soon

Sonja and Markus

Here it goes to the pictures...