16^th LEG

Saturday morning saw us ready to go and with promise of hot weather we set off quite early. With Bruce leading us out of town, we were soon on the right road and off to Perth (or at least to Iron Knob for the night).

Well we really tried to be off, but Matilda had dropped down to three cylinders and we were struggling along at about 30km per hour, which made Iron Knob seem an awful long way away. Once again we tried our trick. Tom stopped the car, out we jumped out, the bonnet went up, Redex oil into the carburetor, clouds of dreadful smoke, back into the car and off we would go at a rate of knots. The car would pick up speed immediately and we would fly along at about 45 km/hr. It was almost scary. Problem was that it didn’t last all that long and soon we would loose speed and be jogging along slowly again. Tom inwardly dreaded that we had a burnt valve but was hoping that we would manage to get home before we would need to pull the engine completely apart.

The day was unbearable. Hot was not in the running; this surpassed "normal hot" by mega degrees. We had wet towels draped over us, we drank all of our iced water, filled it and drank it again (about 4 litres each time) and we were dehydrating rapidly. Just before Port Augusta I was ready to throw in the towel. I felt nauseated, we had no water left in the drinking bottles and the car was as slow as an old dog. I just wanted out. But, we filled our water bottle albeit with hot water, drank our fill and managed to get Port Augusta to fill up with petrol. A lovely iced coffee, water bottles filled with at least tap temperature water we were off again in the considerably cooler evening air. We reached Iron Knob just as the lass was locking up the petrol station so we filled up with petrol and secured a motel room. Unfortunately no food was to be had, but iced coffee yet again came to the rescue. What a pity the air conditioner didn’t work, but luckily the shower did and the night saw me in the shower quite a number of times in an endeavour to cool off.

Both of us wondered how on earth, in our less than optimum health, we were going to stand for 8 more days of such intense conditions. As a result the next morning as the first rays of the sun hit the skies we were off. It was beautifully cool. In fact it was downright cold. And it got colder. And colder. The towels, which had draped around us sopping wet the day before now served as blankets and we looked like a couple of funny old ladies with scarves tied over our heads. On and on towards Ceduna and warmth and comfort. A far cry from the heat of the previous day, but the cold, while not actually pleasant, was more bearable than the intense heat and we hoped that if we had to face either end of the scale it would be the cold rather than the heat (I’m not actually sure if we should have speculated perhaps we should have envisaged perfect conditions of blue skies and cool breezes. It may have been safer in the long run).

Ceduna to Nullarbor Station was a slow, but uneventful day. The weather remained cold and threatened to rain, but Matilda plodded along, We arrived at Nullabor about 3pm, too early really to stop but as the next stop was the border and nearly 200 kms or at our average speed of 30kms/hr nearly 7 hours away we decided to call it a day. Wise decision. We had a refreshing evening and an early night, which was to stand us in good stead for the days ahead.

We were up early and set off at first light. Matilda continued to run so slowly. We felt frustrated, but there seemed to be no alternative but to soldier on. It was lunchtime as we approached the border crossing. I don’t know it you can imagine it, but out in that dry inhospitable landscape I felt that I had come home. It was exhilarating and we drove on towards Eucla with uplifted spirits.

Lunch and we were off again. We had big miles to cover and the car wasn’t getting any faster. The miles passed ever so slowly. We added the hours to bring us up to local time but we did not seem to achieve any more. We considered stopping at Madura Pass, but that was yet another drama. Tom went off to get petrol while I went to get some food. There was no one in the service station so he walked over to the motel/hotel/restaurant to get someone.

"I’ll sendsomeone there right away," the attendant said.

Tom returned to the car. Minutes passed and more minutes. Finally he came back to the hotel complex.

"Is someone going to serve me some petrol?" he asked, feeling a bit irate.

"In five minutes."

"Five minutes!" Tom had already waited many more than that and was really not happy.

"Well in ten then" was the attendant’s smart alec reply.

Not a good move. Tom was wild, really wild.

"Forget it, we are out of here." he came looking for me "Just leave we are going!"

"But I’ve just paid for the food!"

Back he marched. "We would like our money back"

"No way!"

This exchange went on for a period while I stood rooted at the counter. Tom marched out while I continued to stand and wait for the food. To say the least it was difficult but as I felt Tom was entirely justified in being annoyed, it made the wait a little more bearable.

Finally the food was ready and I was able to make my exit. Into the car and off.

Well into the car anyway. Anyone who has called into the service station at Madura Pass will know that the incline out and onto the road is very steep. Matilda just could not climb it. With heart thumping and a silent prayer (please God don’t make us have to go back in there, please!) I jumped out of the car and began to push. Tom drove her from side to side to try to decrease the angle of incline and ever so slowly she pulled up the rise. That of course is only half the problem; it’s not called Madura Pass for nothing you know. In front of us loomed a great long hill and Matilda was not at her best.

It was not easy, but somehow we managed and Matilda finally climbed to the top of the hill. We were off again, roaring along at 30kms/hr.

Finally exhausted we drove into Cocklebiddy ready for a good nights rest. Without being sacrilegious I managed to catch a glimpse of how Mary must have felt when there was no room at the inn because there was no rooms in the motel! Not one! Not even a scroungy tacky one. None! "Please, we’ve been in a terrible accident and are just not well enough to rough it."

"Sorry, nothing, absolutely nothing. If we had anything you could have it, but we don’t."

If I repeat myself it is because we were incredulous. The road gangs working about 20kms up the road had taken every room in the place including the backpacker type accommodation. What could we do? There was a camping ground out back so feeling very sore and sorry for ourselves off we went.

We pulled out the mattress and lay it out. Tom went off to make a phone call and it started. Raining that is. Lightly at first and then more and more heavily. I bundled the swag back into the car (I could not roll it by myself, I just didn’t have the strength) and went off to find Tom. What could we do? Tom fetched the swag and dropped it under a verandah awning. We just stood and looked at each other. We were still in this state of bewilderment when the man from the motel came out looking for us.

"The manager said you could sleep in the store room." I nearly kissed him I was so relieved. Off we went to the storeroom. Standing in one corner was a pile of matteeresses. "Pull some of those down if you want," the fellow said. Did we want? We pulled one down and lay our thin little one on top and went off to sleep in relative comfort while the wind blew and the rain fell in torrents outside our door.

The next day we were up and at it fairly early. Not quite the crack of dawn, but next to it. Thanking all and sundry we drove off towards Norseman our goal for the night. It might have been our goal, but Matilda had other ideas. She drove slower and slower forcing Tom to use second and even first gear much of the time. We would totally strip her little gearbox if we kept going like this. If that wasn’t worry enough we hit the road works. The overnight rain had made the track a soft slushy mess that even the modern cars with full power were having trouble with it. As we surveyed the scene before us one of the supervisors drove up.

"You’ll never get that through!" was his comment, "Wait there."

Off he went driving through the scrub looking for a better path. He arrived back and beckoned us to follow.

"Hope he knows what he’s doing," was Tom’s spoken thought.

Matilda didn’t miss a beat, following the four-wheel drive she drove over scrub and humps and bumps until we were back on the road.

"There’s another patch (some patch) down the road a bit, see you later" we were farewelled.

Down the road just a little, before we reached the next bit of road works one of the workers hailed us down. With friendly greetings he plied us with rags and windscreen cleaner before telling us that the road wad so muddy that they had called off all work for at least three days while the surface dried off. All the workers were off for a well deserved but unexpected break. We waved farewell and parted company.

When we arrived at the next lot of road works it was a horror stretch. The surface was soft and slippery and we wove from side to side looking for the firmest surface, trying to avoid those deep mud bowels. The mud sprayed all over me (because of the wind direction Tom was saved and as I was slowly covered in a fine creamy brown slime I had visions of how bad it would be if I had to push. However for once Matilda triumphed and we emerged filthy dirty, but safely on the other side. It was just a short few kilometers to Caiguna and we were both pleased to have arrived.

From Coccklebiddy to Caiguna was a mere 66 kilometers, but it had taken us nearly three hours to achieve it. This was getting to be a serious problem. While I sat inside, out of the freezing cold Tom looked at the car. He fiddled with this and then that and then pronounced that he would take it on a test run.

"I hope he comes back," I joked to some of the audience that Matildas always managed to attract.

"No worries, he needs you to push it," they laughed. How true, how true. They might have thought it was a joke but I knew the truth only too well.

"It’s a bit better I think," was his verdict, "We’ll set off and if it’s no good we can always come back." Now if you ever hear those words, start running because men are totally and utterly incapable of turning back. Once that car was headed in the right direction that was where we were going. But not far I can tell you. She got slowly slower and slower until we just could not get her out of second gear at all. Thirty kilometers and about an hour and a half down the road and even Tom decided that enough is enough. He pulled over on the side of the road while we talked about the problem. Tom felt sure that he had a burnt exhaust valve and thought it was going to be some job to repair it. He also realised that if he took the motor down he was almost sure to damage the head gasket that he and Till had made in the wilderness. He was very worried.

My suggestion was that he hitch hike to Caiguna (a mere fifteen minutes by modern) and ring Shayne and Ralph, I would stay with the car. Good idea? Well it seemed like it at the time.

Poncho on Tom crossed the road while I started to try to protect myself from the elements. Suddenly Tom has a bright idea. "There’s no tools in Caiguna, I know I saw this morning. I should hitch hike to Norseman and buy the necessary there. Without time to consider (we were shouting this exchange across Highway 1 in the rain) I agreed to the suggestion. Strike while the iron is hot is not usually Tom’s motto, but he must have worried that I’d change my mind when I did the figures in my head and so he crossed the road and lo and behold got a lift before we could discuss the problem further.

It was freezing cold. The wind was blowing a force ten gale in the window and the rain had started to fall in icy cold drops. I sat and considered. It was 11:30am. It was a little over 3 hours to Norseman and a little over three hours back. He would need time to get his purchases aaand then try to find a lift back. Try as I might I could not calculate that any better than 7:30pm for his return. At best dusk would be falling, at worst….well I just refused to consider the worst-case scenario.

I tied my poncho at the window and tried to stuff rags in the crevasses. I was wrapped in towels and had every article of clothing I could find draped over my body. There was no tree cover and so I had to trust my luck when the calls of nature became impossible to ignore. Naturally, that would be the exact moment when a vehicle would magically appear on the horizon and would send me scuttling for the relative security of the car.

Food was not big on our agenda and all we had that was readily available was some cold baked beans and some dry biscuits. Water was plentiful but I had no means of heating any for something as luxurious as a cup of tea. The day dragged in misery. I was unwell and to boot I was cold, hungry and bored. Luckily for the first time in the entire trip I had picked up a magazine at Caiguna. I had started to read an article and decided to purchase it. I read the words right off the page and I even almost completed the monster cross word puzzle at the back of the mag. It’s not often that I resort to reading gossip pages but I did that day.

Very few cars stopped all day but I did receive a call from the Kalgoolie police doing a run out in the sticks. They asked what was happening and when I told them they said they would check that Tom had safely arrived at Norseman. A second car arrived with a message from Tom telling me that all was well, but it was the third car that tickled my fancy.

It was just on dusk and the traffic was very sparse. Fifteen or twenty minutes would go past with no traffic from either direction. And then out of the half-light a car emerged. It was an old kombi type vehicle with three young people in it. As it approached it slowed down and then it swung around in a u-turn to come back to me. Inwardly I groaned. I felt so very alone and extremely vulnerable. Every bad story I had ever heard of the outback went through my mind and I was mentally kicking myself (and Tom) for placing myself in such a position. "Did I need help?"

"No thanks, my husband would be back in just a minute." What sort of an answer was that? Where did I think that they would think he had gone? Of course they didn’t believe me for a moment.

They pulled up in front of me and came over for a chat. What was wrong? Where had Tom actually gone? How long ago? How do you say about 7 hours ago? I mean to say, that really makes you vulnerable, doesn’t it?

We did get chatting and I began to relax a little. Mark, from England, Yoshi from Switzerland and Fi from Australia. They seemed nice enough. They could see I was cold and so Mark went and wrapped me in a blanket. There was a moment when the blanket went over my head that I thought "Oh no! They can just bundle me in the car and no one would ever know. And then Fi offered to make me a hot drink. At first, fearful, I said no thanks but cold and hungry won out and I agreed. Hot chocolate. Once again I was nervous. Stories of drugging etc ran through my head but I resolved to have just a tiny sip at a time to test the potion as it were. What a dill and how untrusting of me. Three nicer young people I couldn’t have found and I was ashamed of all my nonsensical fears. Before they left they told me of a great camping spot just 5-10kilometeers up the road where there was a group of people camped for the night. Refusing their kind offer to take me to the camp (after all who would look after the car) I waved them goodbye.

There were no further cars stopping and dark had fallen. The rain had eased off but it was still very cold and windy. Finally at about 9:15 a car pulled over in front of me and I knew in my heart of hearts it was Tom. Sure enough he emerged smiling and happy and I relaxed for the first time in many hours. Waving goodbye to his rescuers he climbed in beside me. I told him what the young people had said and he agreed that it would be a good idea to find a more suitable camping spot. The five or ten kilometres took about half an hour and by the time we drove into the spot everyone else had gone to bed. They had however left behind the remains of a fire and we sat huddled around for a little while before pulling out our bedroll and going to bed. I should explain that the camping area was under the collection roof for the water tanks and so not only did we have shelter but water and even a toilet (a long drop but it good condition). We were very pleased with ourselves.

The night was freezing. We had one small summer weight blanket, no pillows and a thin mattress. It would be fairly true to say that we were not exactly comfortable although compared to sleeping in the rain by the side of the road it seemed like heaven.

Morning, when it arrived showed no sign of the wind or cold abating and Tom got straight onto the car. There was some good news. It appeared that all of the valves were in fact okay, but the head gasket had a small channel from cylinder 2 to 3. The stud there was a little loose and had obviously caused the problem. We had been running on just two cylinders, a problem which definitely needed fixing. Tom suggested a trip to Caiguna to speak to Shayne again and so when the first group of caravaners left the camping spot he grabbed a lift to Caiguna. Meanwhile I kept the fire going and searched the surrounding bush for more wood. Although it was still cold and windy it was a far cry from sitting by the side of the road in Matilda the day before.

While Tom was gone two young lads came up to me. They had broken English, but I quickly made out the purpose of their visit. They were Jehovah Witnesses and they presented me with three ‘Watchtower’ magazines before they left. I stood watching them go shaking my head in amazement.

Tom arrived back with great news and in the company of two lovely Swedish girls, Karen and Ursula. We soon made friends and promised to keep in touch. Meanwhile the good news was that Shayne would personally bring out a new copper head gasket and headstud for the car. And so Tom did every thing he could to prepare Matilda and then we relaxed for the rest of the day. Mid afternoon brought the first of the campers to the camping ground; a Swiss couple about our age, Cathy and Daniel and a younger East German couple Enrico and Marlene. Matilda quickly made friends and we settled down for a good evening. Together we provided the evening meal, with Tom and myself providing some tin fruit and yogurt purchased earlier that day at Caiguna, and our new friends contributing a dish of hot chili con carne. As the cold evening air fell Daniel produced a huge tarpaulin and a second smaller one and together the men rigged up a three-sided shelter for us. In addition Daniel and Cathy insisted that they had a spare sleeping bag and opened it out over our bed. I can only hope that it was indeed an extra as it was a very cold night (we were however very, very warm and cozy thanks to the extra bedding).

In the late afternoon two large trucks arrived and after tea their drivers came over bearing port to share, which was greatly appreciated, by Tom and our new friends.

All in all, we may have lost nearly 2 days (so much for our spare day) but we did have at least one relaxing day and we added to our growing list of friends. We went to bed with one ear open for Shayne and the promised gasket. It was 4am when we heard them enter but instead of seeing one 2cv there were 2 of them. Chris Stewart had decided to accompany Shayne and was there to lend a helping hand and also offer us moral support. What a incredible pair of guys. They had driven over 1000 kilometres to help out a couple of friends. Were we knocked out or what! What do you say to that. There should be a better word than thank you. But there’s not. So thank you guys.

We had the two of them tucked into bed fairly smartly and back to sleep. Up early (6am) and straight into the job at hand. Well, that was true for Tom and Chris, Shayne on the other hand had to get straight back into his 2cv and drive to Kalgoolie to do a paid job at hand. We felt very sorry for him, but we were powerless to help.

NEXT