Fuel comes first

As I drove up the Aroona Valley in cloudy weather, this flock of emus seemed ethereal in the light, high stepping their way through the onion grass flowers.

It has been suggested to me that perhaps all this onion grass came from the Afghan cameleers who used the seeds as fillers to make the packs sit better. Perhaps. Nothing eats it, so it’s spread far and wide. I can’t deny it’s pretty, but oh dear…

I guess Heysen chose only three of these slanted mountains to be able to call his painting ‘Three Sisters’, but there are serried rows of them; at least ten here in one view.

The road follows the Brachina Geological Trail, frequently signposted, and it is mind-bendingly incomprehensible to me that the rocks I look at are over 500 million years old. About 150 million years ago, these ranges were created as the earth’s horizontal layers were pushed up into a dome, which was later eroded, exposing these side shafts of rocks laid down long ago.

‘A corridor through time…’ says one sign. 

‘The bare bones of the earth; said Heysen.

I call in to see the Adynamantha rock art, unusually on low rocks here, but can’t discern much without guidance: this circle stands for ‘camp’ apparently.

There is some interesting vegetation along the nearby dry creek. This bush had one lone fruit still hanging on, damaged, but I think it’s a Quandong (Santalum acuminatum), a popular fruit for both people and animals.

I like that the Bounceback signs at most stops are from the viewpoint of the feral animal or plant being targeted. Here it is a tongue-in-cheek rabbit realtor. Very effective.

I  drive partway up to the ‘Great Wall of China’, and I can see why that is so named, but the track is rough and there is a long convoy of serious 4WDs following me. I pull over and let them pass, then turn around. The different stone capping of the Wall is visible for kilometres, and much visited.

Needing fuel, I turn off to Angorichina just before Blinman, without even driving in, as it looked unpleasantly touristy, full of parked 4WDs.

As I drive, the country changes from pine woodlands to a sort of mallee.  Sparsely dotted gorges loom close, but at the time I think  that I will be staying here and heading on to Parachilna, so will take photos later.

After 15kms of dirt road, I reach Angorichina. There is fuel, but no phone reception. 

‘Ya coulda got that at Blinman’, says the shop bloke. 

But Blinman no longer has fuel. Even the underground tanks have been removed, I was later told.

So, refuelled, I  retrace the 15kms of dirt road to Blinman. I really need a burst of reception to clear the backlog of emails.

This is high country, and in the distance on all sides I can see the rugged outlines of the Flinders Ranges.

And yep, Blinman is still full of 4WDs. But I have four bars on my phone, so…