After mending my sheet and repairing a pair of shorts – excuses to stay at Ellendale Pool a little longer – I left. The last place I enjoyed this much was Ningaloo Reef – now a distant memory.
My destination . . . the Pinnacles.
As I drove the western sky darkened. By noon I was surrounded by an ocean mist with rain pelting the windshield. The gale shook the car. I paused my travel at a lookout above the ocean. Once the storm had subsided slightly I continued south again. At Jurian Bay I went grocery shopping – two tomatoes was all I needed. I’m trying to devour the remnants in preparation for giving up my car in a couple days. Driving by the beach I found the ablution block. They have become a favorite attraction – fond of the murals decorating the exterior walls. It seems most towns have one and they are often decorated by the local school.
Cervantes was a few more kilometres down the road. I was hopeful. There was an orange glow on the horizon. Perhaps the clouds will break just before sunset. I continued towards the park. It was still raining. Turning a bend and cresting a hill everything changed. The vegetation disappeared and the ground turned to a deep yellow sand. It was the yellow sand reflected by the clouds which tricked me into thinking the sun might come out about sunset. Surreal rocky needles – the pinnacles – sprouted from the wet sand.
The change between the lush, greenery I’d been driving through and the sudden appearance of the desert sands with limestone pinnacles thrusting skyward was enough to make it seem I been transported to a new and vastly different continent, but no, just another facet of the tremendously varied physiography of Australia. Driving around the loop I admired the pinnacles. There was no transition for day to night, no sunset, just sudden and inky black. Finding a quiet spot I nibbled on crackers then spread my sleeping bag out in the back of my Falcon. The constant patter of the rain lulled me to sleep only to be startled awake by the next violent gust. I still slept well.
As the eastern horizon began to glow I rolled over to check the new day. A small band of blue, bordered by intense black framed the morning sky. I quickly pulled on another layer and returned to the scenic drive. The sky began to show pink, then orange. Finally a ray of sun streamed through the distant trees dappling a lone pinnacle in the early morning glow. It was magical. I ran from spot to spot hoping the capture the intrigue of the landscape. Long shadows added to the drama.
The golden light changed to a penetrating white light. The texture of the pinnacles became more distinct. A few minutes later the light from the rising sun changed again. The pinnacles lost their character. They were suddenly just blobs of rock rising from the yellow sand. An hour after sunrise I left the Pinnacles Desert in search of a place for breakfast.
Hangover Bay. How could I resist a place with such a name. Driving in I noted a shadowy form on the dune crest. Getting closer I found four male kangaroos engaged in a boxing match. Then there were three and finally only two involved in the dual. The others became bystanders or hopped away to nurse their wounded pride. Once the match was over I continued on to the beach. The picnic area was a makeshift campsite. Several people had spent the night there.
I enjoyed my last haystack, watched for whales and noticed a dolphin playing in the waves. This leg of my journey was almost over. My car must be returned in Perth sometime tomorrow. It may have only been a couple hundred kilometres but at the speed I was traveling it would certainly take all day – maybe two. I stopped at a few towns along the way then decided time was running short. Never mind – I found the ruins of a camp. Fort Lytton. It’s significance – one of the earliest and most well preserved work camps in Australia.
A local aristocrat had an idea. Build a camp to house prisoners – low cost labour for his station. The camp was built and few prisoners arrived. During construction a few labours had died. The harsh environmental conditions in the area resulted in similar fate for a few more after opening the camp. A short time later the camp was closed. It was not a success in providing low cost labor.
My last night before Sydney was spent at the Caravan Park in Guilderton.
