Station-ary break

To escape the tourist crowds on a long weekend I had chosen to hole up at Alpana Station, outside Blinman.

No reception, but a free rein on camp sites beside the dry bed of Butler’s Creek, lined with majestic old River Red Gums.

I chose to set up beside this gorgeous one, multi-trunked, with long sinuous arms snaking sideways. Their silvery markings shone like the finest silk stockings…

I had no plans to do much except rest, read, play house with the camper, cook on an open fire and catch up on posts. These I would research and then send off in reception-rich Blinman when I left on the Monday morning before I set off for Arkaroola.

I decided to walk up to the prominent Rocky Nob above the home paddocks, including Bill’s Paddock where I was camped.

The Nob had one tree on top, bravely hoisting the flag.

As the track rose, it offered views over the Flinders Ranges back to Wilpena Pound.

It also gave me some surprises, like this stunning Mallee Ringneck parrot feeding along on the ground. 

I wonder what it is eating?

Alpana’s Sally Henery told me that the main green ground cover I have been seeing everywhere is Ward’s Weed, introduced around 1915. A successful invader certainly, but It is extremely useful, she says, as even when it dies the sheep find it palatable.

But the ground here is full of tiny things whose names I don’t know. 

There were only a few patches of this fluffy plant (left) and similarly (right) of these tiny spots, like fish scales… a lichen or ?

As at Bimblebox in Queensland’s Desert Uplands, I felt I should be crawling along so as not to miss anything. Dryland secrets.

I saw quite a few of these straggly trees, which at times did resemble olive trees. I think they are Bullock Bush (Alectryon oleifolius) and they are grazed from below to the height of whatever creature is eating them. Emus? Amazingly, they are a remnant plant from over 10,000 years ago.

But I wandered on these rocky hills for a time, unsuccessfully seeking trail markers.

I felt I could get lost in the gullies, once the Nob or the Homestead was out of sight, and decided to return to the last found marker, and thus to the camp.

As this would mean coffee, and I was on a lazy break after all, I didn’t mind.

I’d earned my stripes bushwalking elsewhere.

As the sun prepared to set for the night, and I lit the fire for cooking… and for the sheer pleasure of watching it… I sighed with the relief of these few undemanding, peaceful days in such a setting.

Thanks for sharing your place, Alpana Station.