We recommend Internet Explorer set to 1024x768.

© 2002 Brian F. Schreurs
Even we have a disclaimer.

Tennant Creek to Cooinda

July 31, 2001

   867 miles       depart Tennant Creek
   895 miles       exhaust pipe falls off
   929 miles       Korkebird is killed
  1006 miles       refuel in Elliott
  1086 miles       brakes smoking & refuel
                    in Daly Waters
  1178 miles       refuel in Mataranka
  1239 miles       welded exhaust & refuel
                    in Katherine
  1402 miles       overnight in Cooinda

28 miles later, Rick's welding job fails. Shane and Jason use some mechanic's wire to tie the pipe up, holding it in a position approximating normal. This is quieter than what we suffered last night, but it still sounds like a glasspack. The next real mark of civilization is Katherine, 600 km away, and we will be going there at 100 mph with the windows down and the glasspack-like exhaust. If we can hear anything when we arrive, it will be a miracle.

We're travelling Stuart Highway at this point, the legendary north-south route neatly cutting the Territory in half. It is in immaculate condition, far better than anything we'd seen in Queensland. High-speed travel here is quite safe, and with no speed limit, we are keeping a pace of 80 to 110 mph. Shane seems to favor 80 to 90, I tend to drive right around 100, and Jason is not really happy until he has the XJ completely flat out at 110 to 112, still comfortable but the car does get a little floaty by then. The only real danger out here is the vacationers with their monster trailers, poking along at less than half our pace. We close on them really fast. Normally we just pass them before they even realize we are approaching, but sometimes there is an oncoming vehicle and we are forced to put the binders to work. The XJ6 brakes do work fairly well and there is no problem with brake fade, though if I were to set up a car for this again I would specify street/track pads for the job in order to shorten the stopping distance.

Shane and Jason attempt to determine why the passenger-front wheel has taken up smoking.

Unfortunately, the birds out here are not accustomed to vehicles travelling as fast as we are. There are many types of birds, ranging from little songbird things to large vulture-like carrion birds (and theoretically there are emu, the oversized flightless bird, but so far the only ones we have seen are captive), but far and away the most common bird to be found is something that looks like a cross between a raven and a smallish falcon. While it certainly looks capable of killing its own small prey, it seems to be just as content to munch on fresh kangaroo meat along the road. If that sort of diet appeals to them, then they are certainly in no great danger of starving. These birds are quite acclimated to normal traffic coming up on them at about 60 mph. They will watch the vehicle approach, and at the last moment they will leap to the sky, circle around once, and land again after the vehicle has passed.

Yeah well, at 100 mph, we're travelling a bit faster than they expect. There have been several close calls with Korkebirds just barely clearing the sheetmetal as we pass through (swerve at 100 mph to avoid hitting a carrion bird -- I think not). It was inevitable that eventually one of them would not clear the car. Fortunately, Jason is driving, so the boys can't hang this one on me.

THWACK!! the bugger bounced off the driver-side A-pillar, no doubt giving Jason a bit of a start.

"Sorry," says Jason, "there was nothing I could do." It's not perfectly clear whether Jason is apologizing to Shane for using his Jaguar as a bird-swatter, or to the bird for swatting it.

"No worries, his mates'll clean him up," Shane replies.

Much of the land here is scorched from fire. Brush fires are apparently quite common, and indeed a necessary part of the natural cycle. "Out here, a brush fire can wipe out 100,000 acres and no one would know the bloody thing was burning," Shane explains. At first that seems implausible but conversations with locals at our fuel stops are showing that many of these ranches measure in the millions of acres. Vegetation and water are so sparse that sheep require 14 acres per sheep to survive. And the cattle are specially bred for desert life, called droughtmasters, that require little water.

A brolga, still alive in spite of himself.

We finally drive past an active brush fire, and it's not what I expect. In the U.S., talk of brush fires brings to mind images of Yosemite burning, of Californians fleeing their homes, colossal flames and rampant destruction. But these little brush fires are nothing like that. Sure, they cover miles of ground, but mostly they are low-burning consumers of grass and detrius, doing little to trees beyond scorching them a bit. Now that I've seen one, it's easier to picture them as part of the lifecycle and not harbingers of doom.

This run between Tennant Creek and Katherine is atop the second-oldest land on Earth, according to Shane. The absolute oldest is in Western Australia. Apparently, most of the continent has been exposed to the surface for about five billion years, and the erosion process over all that time is why it's so flat.

And it is very, very flat.

I'm driving as we approach Daly Waters, and we know they have fuel. Since we only have one gas tank working, we stop almost any time there is fuel available, whether we need it or not. Because we always need it. We keep watching for signs of Daly Waters, but we're pretty much still cruising through the desert, no sign of anything. Then, we come around a bend, and there it is! Daly Waters. This "town" consists of a petrol station and lodging. At 100 mph, I am about to drive right past it in a flash. I jam on the binders; can't stop in time for the first entrance, but we're at a reasonable speed by the time we come up to the second. Made it! When we pull up to the pumps, we find the wheel with the fresh bearing is engulfed in smoke. The boys investigate and determine that I heated up the brakes enough to cook some excess grease that had been slinging around inside the wheel. No harm done.

At Mataranka, I get to meet a brolga face-to-beak. The brolga is Australia's only crane; it's a tall, thin, grey bird, utterly fearless and equally stupid. Its stupidity is so absolute that the animal is used as an insult; if someone calls you a brolga, it's not a compliment. The fellow I'm examining and photographing is standing alongside Stuart Highway; he chooses to cross the road just as a road train is approaching. Clearly, the truck has no intention of giving way to the bird, so I am relieved when the brolga steps back at the last possible second, sparing his own silly life by mere inches.

In Katherine, our primary mission is to find a shop that could weld up the Jaguar's exhaust. After some inquiries, we've found Andy's Autos on Palmer Street. Andy does a fair bit of business in Katherine and wastes no time in letting us know just how busy he is. But Shane chats him up for a while and somehow persuades him to make room for us.

This is a Ford Falcon Ute, and a fairly new one at that.

And this is a Ford Fairmont, built for Australia around the same time that they built the Mustang II for America. Gee, thanks guys.

While Shane and Andy sort the XJ6, Jason and I are off on a walkie up the road. Shane assures us there is nothing of note to see in Katherine, but to me, everything is a novelty, even the trees. We find a speed limit sign that has been vandalized to read "170", curiously accompanied by an explanation for the damage: "We're bored!"

Much to my joy, we stumble across a car sales lot. There probably is nothing of great interest here for Jason, as all the cars appear to be relatively ordinary, but almost none of Australia's cars are shared with the United States -- even the Japanese imports differ -- so the car guy in me is enthralled with the offerings. A sales drone pops over, discovers I'm an American and therefore not buying, and heads off. Then she notes that she has no other customers, so she comes on back to chat about the differences in the cars. It's a Ford dealership, so I am told about how they once imported the F-150 but it was a flop here, being incapable of withstanding the abuse of the Northern Territory. Apparently, Ford thinks the new trucks are up to the job, because they are going to try again soon, I'm told. I also get a good look at a Ford Falcon Ute, a very nice little truck from what I can tell. I don't rightly know what they cost, since none of the vehicles have stickers on them, apparently not a requirement here.

After a bit, Jason and I head back to Andy's; Jason is starting to sound a little funny, with an unpleasant cough. I keep some distance. They are just finishing up the car -- Andy wasn't able to fix it permanently, so he had another crack at a temporary weld and some exhaust putty, for which Shane paid $25. Hopefully Andy's patch will hold out longer than Rick's. We continue north toward Kakadu.

Along the way, and indeed along many points in this trip so far, I marvel at the technique to repair bridges here. See, they have the advantage in this part of the world that rivers are relative. That is, they're relatively wet a couple months of the year and relatively dry for the balance. We are here during the dry season, and nearly every so-called river has actually been as dry as the rest of the countryside. The only way to tell them from any other dip in the lanscape is that the vegetation is greener around them, as there is still more water underground than there is most anywhere else. There is even a species of tree that only grows along these dry rivers, so the extremely thirsty traveller could conceivably start digging near one of these trees and expect to strike water before he dies.

Green plants, elevation changes, and curves in the road? This is a strange part of the Territory indeed!

Anyway, since almost all rivers completely dry up, the highway department simply diverts the road into the riverbed and builds a new bridge. As long as they complete it before the rainy season starts up again, there are no problems. Traffic barely even slows down.

We arrive in Cooinda, the tourist center of Kakadu, without further difficulty. Kakadu actually gets water so it is extremely lush and alive compared to the red dust we'd been driving through. Also, the terrain actually changes, and there are real curves in the road. After 600 miles of desert driving, two-thirds of which with no exhaust system to speak of, we are all quite ready for a relaxing evening. Our lodge even has air conditioning! Such luxury. For dinner I have a go at eating kangaroo, which is delicious. Tomorrow we will not be travelling too much, so we make plans to explore Kakadu.