Fear not, the end is near.  As I headed to Kalumburu from the Mitchell Falls area, I knew the end was coming but, nonetheless, I was excited about the adventures that lay ahead.  During the course of planning and executing my trip, a number of people had suggested that I ought not try to visit Kalumburu.  It was too remote.  The road was so bad as to be almost impassable.  The aboriginal people there can be hard to get along with.  I was undaunted by the excuses and the warnings.  I desperately wanted to have a meaningful and personal interaction with aboriginal people.  Did I accomplish this goal?  Read on, and find out!

bittersweet (adj) :  pleasure accompanied by suffering or regret (Webster’s)

I left the King Edward River Campground around 10 a.m. on the morning of Friday, September 20, 2019.  As discussed in my previous post, I was up early for some hiking and had already enjoyed a beautiful morning by the time I was once again crossing the lovely King Edward River and headed for Kalumburu.  I was a little nervous about the road conditions which had been described from “atrocious” to “barely passable”.  But with my extra spare safely strapped to the roof, I was cautiously optimistic.  I knew that Google Maps said I had 107 kilometers to travel and that it should take me 4 hours and 56 minutes.  I was pleasantly surprized by the road.  Don’t get me wrong, it was horrible in places, but, honestly, it was no worse than the Gibb River Road, and, in a few (very few) blessed stretches, it was better than the GRR.   I made it to Kalumburu around 2 p.m. and headed directly to the mission to see if I could secure accommodations for the next two nights or find out if I would have to camp at the beach north of town at McGowan’s or French’s campgrounds.  I encountered a gentle soul named Father Simon, who tried to help me, but finally gave up and called in a gentleman who did not seem too excited that I was requesting lodging.  But he ended up renting me a “room” in the “accommodation area”.  So I drove over there to find that I had rented a very small space containing a bed and a small table, in a compound with a communal shower and toilet.  Turns out the only other people staying there were a group of young Aussie miners who left early each morning and returned after dark each evening.  Their work site was only 40 kilometers from the mission, but it took them 2.5 hours each way on a road they had cleared themselves with a bulldozer.  Their advice to me:  lock your car, your room, and don’t trust the locals.  After making sure I had a room, I headed to the local store to purchase (for $50 Australian) my local tourist permit, or “yellow card”.  That turned out to take a very long time, as the sweet aboriginal lady who was manning the cash register at the store had one heck of a time helping me complete this simple transaction.  I stepped next door and got a bite to eat (the gentleman at the mission had warned it was the only place in town to get something prepared to eat and that they closed for the weekend at 4 p.m. in the afternoon).  So I sat at the center of town, ate my fish and chips at a picnic table under a tree, and watched as the aboriginal people pretended I was not there.  So much for meaningful interaction with the locals.  While checking in at the mission, I also asked where I could find Ian Wainer or his sister Melissa.  (Lee Scott-Tribute recommended I engage them to guide me to the rock art in the area.)  The fellow at the mission said “He is out of town and so is she”.  He said he didn’t know where they were or when they were expected to return.  He then said “Clarrie can guide you”.  When I asked where to find Clarrie, he said, “just ask around”.  While I was sitting at the table under the tree eating my late lunch, a young man approached and said “Clarrie will meet you at the Mission at 8 in the morning”.  Before I could respond, he turned and walked off.  Since I had a few hours of daylight left, I decided to see if I could locate some of the local attractions by myself.  I first drove out by the airport and located the old WWII airplane crashes.  I then headed to Monster Rock and spent a couple of hours hiking and exploring the area for rock art.  Finally, I drove out to McGowan’s campground and took a walk on the beach.  I figured it would be a shame to be within 20 kilometers of a Western Australia beach and not visit it.  The road to the beach was a little dicey (deep sand in places), but I made it and am glad I did — the beach was beautiful!  I arrived back at the compound right at dark and collapsed, dead tired, in my little cubicle of a room.  I took no photos in town, because there were signs warning against it, unless permission was granted.

Here are a few pictures of my humble accommodations at the Kalumburu Mission.  I was glad space was available for me, because, after camping for several nights on Mitchell Plateau, a bed and a hot shower made me feel like royalty!

Since first light in Kalumburu is 5 a.m. and I wasn’t supposed to meet Clarrie until 8 a.m., I had plenty of time to take a walk and look around town.  There wasn’t a soul stirring as I walked past the Mission and out to the northern edge of town, which really wasn’t that far.

As I was walking back to the center of town, I ran into an aboriginal fellow named Roger Booma.  Roger was uncharacteristically loquacious and capitalistic, and we got along splendidly.  I later learned that, while Roger has the reputation of being an extremely talented artist, he also has earned a reputation as being of questionable character (in several respects).  However, he was kind and generous with me, showing me around town and giving me permission to take photos.

I said goodbye to Roger, thanking him and giving him a nice tip and a banana muffin in return for his service as an impromptu tour guide.  I headed back to the Mission, whose gates were now open and unlocked, and went to the church for some morning prayer and meditation.  The little church is beautiful, and represents an interesting fusion of aboriginal culture and catholicism.  I love little churches like this, and I can feel God’s presence when I am blessed to visit them!  As I was finishing up my mediation, an aboriginal woman came in to do some cleaning.  We had a nice visit, and she allowed me to take some pictures of the church.

At promptly 8 a.m., I was at the Mission to meet my guide for the day, Mr. Clarence Djanghara, known around town as “Clarrie”.   After brief introductions and Clarrie’s absence for a while to take care of unspecified matters in the Mission office, we walked over to my landcruiser, parked across the street near the tree and picnic table.  On the way, a little boy passed me, looked up, and gave me a big smile and said “Hi!”.  I was impressed by this uncharacteristic outpouring and, seeing the boy’s mother nearby, asked Clarrie if he thought she would mind if I gave him a small gift.  He said “No,  that is Hassan, and his mother is very nice”.  So I went to my landcruiser and fetched one of the “boy” change purses I had prepared as gifts, and took it over to Hasan, who, by this time was sitting at the picnic table with his mom and Clarrie.  Hassan’s smile was big enough to light up all of Western Australia when he finally, after several explanations, figured out I was giving him a small gift.

Then, Clarrie and I set out to see some rock art.  Our first stop was an area called False Gorge.  It was not a particularly impressive site.  While there, a volunteer from the Mission delivered Oliver Borm (a young German rocket scientist…no kidding, he was a rocket scientist!) into our custody.  Oliver had showed up at the mission wanting a tour, so they brought him out.  Clarrie seemed reluctant to let him join us, but I assured him I was okay with it, so Oliver joined our merry band.  After finishing up at False Gorge, we headed to Turtle Rock and then Maragada.  These last two sites had some very interesting rock art set in a nice landscape.  While we were out in the area of Turtle Rock, Clarrie also gave us a demonstration of bush tucker (almonds), how to straighten and prepare a spear shaft, atlatl throwing, and what he called “spit painting” using charcoal instead of ochre.

I enjoyed the time I spent with Clarrie.  He is a very nice man, and is committed to preserving and sharing aboriginal culture with his own community and outsiders like me.  He expressed a genuine concern for the aboriginal young, and their lack of aboriginal cultural knowledge.  He said, “My father’s father taught him and my father taught me.  I have taught my sons, and they will teach their sons.  But most have no one to teach them”.  Before we parted ways, Clarrie shared with me his dream of hosting President Obama in Kalumburu, to draw attention to the crisis of culture in the aboriginal community.  He asked for my help, and I plan to do all I can to help him extend the invitation to our former president.  I will keep you posted on that effort!

[A sidenote about my new friend, the rocket scientist:  During the course of our time together, I asked Oliver Borm what he did, and he explained that he is indeed educated as a rocket scientist, and is currently involved with a technology that, in a nutshell, takes CO2 out of the atmosphere and, using solar power, turns it into oil.  He said that, while it is not commercially feasible yet (a barrel produced by this method costs three times what traditionally produced oil costs), someday it will be.  He is convinced this technology will play a vital role in solving our climate change problems.  When I got home, I googled Oliver.  Oddly enough, there is an Oliver Borm who works for Google in London, but when I found the right Oliver, I found this:  https://www.isc3.org/en/news/article/article/isc3-un-climate-change-conference-cop23-in-bonn-sustainable-chemistry-a-key-to-climate-solu.html.  By the way, Oliver has been traveling overland from Berlin to Hong Kong for the last year.  He made it to Australia by hitching a ride on a sailboat on a small island in Indonesia.  I meet the coolest people on my travels!]

Here is a little video I made of Clarrie, explaining some bush tucker and making a charcoal hand stencil, which he calls “spit painting”.  Prior to these two demonstrations, he had built a fire and showed us how to straighten the shaft of a spear and fire-harden the point.  I enjoyed the time he spent sharing his knowledge of how his culture used the resources of the Australian bush!

About one o’clock in the afternoon, Clarrie, Oliver, and I returned to town and said our goodbyes at the Mission.  I headed over to the Elvis Presley suite and washed some clothes and hung them up to dry.  I also took a shower and had a bite of lunch.  I still had quite a few of the small gifts I had brought to give to the aboriginal children, so I decided to walk over to the center of town, sit at what I now considered “my” picnic table, and give out my gifts.  I have made it a practice to never give anything to children without one of their parents being present.  I try to use it as a practical learning experience for them in dealing safely with adults they do not know.  I begin by clearly asking the parent if they mind if I give their child a small gift.  If they say yes (which they always do!), I turn to the child and explain  “This is a gift from Texas for you.  But you NEVER accept a gift from a stranger without your parent around.  Did you notice how I asked your mom if it is ok?”.   Anyway, I failed miserably in giving out my gifts.  I saw lots of children, but not a single one was accompanied by an adult.  After about an hour and a half, I walked over to the Mission and located Father Simon.  I thought perhaps he would hand the gifts out for me, but he declined, saying he would be uncomfortable with that.  So, I walked over to Clarrie’s house (he had pointed out his house on the drive back to town) and asked him to hand them out for me.  Later, when I attended the 5:30 p.m. Mass at the Mission, I was delighted to see a number of the small children in attendance proudly sporting their new hair bows, chewing bubble gum, and clutching their new Texas coin purses.  Thank you, Clarrie.

After leaving Clarrie’s house, I decided to walk back to the Mission and wait around for the 5:30 service.  I sat outside the church reading my Kindle at a picnic table under a tree, enjoying the pleasant afternoon.  I watched as the gentle Father Simon piloted an old van painted with colorful and inviting images, leaving the Misson empty and returning with a load of people.  It took him three trips, but he eventually rounded up enough aborignal sinners to have a service.  As I waited under the tree, I saw a young lady walking her small dog.  I said hello and we struck up a conversation.  My new friend told me her name was Jenni Grace, and that she was a new teacher at the school.  Jenni was so kind and generous, sharing her experience, not just with Kalumburu and the school, but with all things Australian.  She invited me to stop by her home after the service to chat with her and one of the other teachers.  The church service was controlled chaos.  Poor Father Simon had to compete with dogs and children running all over the place.  But, I felt the presence of God in that place, and Father Simons’ message gave me hope, and lifted my spirits.  I did stop by Jenni’s place after the service, as did her friend.  The three of us had a wonderful visit, and I was able to gather some valuable and interesting insight into the realities of life in Kalumburu.  Thank you, Jenni Grace, for your kindness and for what you are doing to help the children in Kalumburu!

As I retired to the Elvis Presley suite, I contemplated the time I had been blessed to spend in Kalumburu.  It was indeed bittersweet.  The physical beauty of the place, the humility of the aboriginal people, the generosity and dedication of the Mission volunteers and the school staff, were all things that I found positive, uplifting, and good.  But the challenges faced by the aboriginal people here, and the assaults on their culture, cast a noticeable pall over Kalumburu, and were more than a little troubling for this old man.  What shall I do?  Well, my plan is to help Clarrie get in touch with President Obama and perhaps persuade him to visit.  I also plan to stay in touch with Jenni Grace, and provide her with encouragement from afar.  Until the next time, Kalumburu!

I left Kalumburu bright and early on Sunday morning, September 22, 2019.  I took my time and enjoyed the scenery and the solitude that is the road to Kalumburu.  I stopped at Miner’s Pool and stretched my legs with a nice walk along the Drysdale River.  A few kilometers down the road, I stopped in at Drysdale Station for diesel fuel and a quick goodbye to my mates there.  After all, I can’t resist a free DIP!

I left Drysdale Station with a full tank of diesel, a new shirt, an ice cream bar, and a pat on the back.  Shortly before I got to the turnoff to Gibb River Road, I stopped at the Gibb River rock art site to take a few more photos and do some exploring around the site and along the river.  I didn’t find anything new in the way of rock art, but I found a little Aussie folk art, and it was a nice break from the relentless pounding of the road.

Once back on the Gibb River Road, I relaxed a bit and enjoyed the drive.  There were no unexpected surprises, and that was fine with me.  I was about 50 kilometers from Ellen Brae Station when an identical hired car from Britz (i.e., a white Toyota Landcruiser with a roof-top tent) passed me going about twice as fast as I was.  I was tempted to try to match their speed, but thought better of it.  I had a small cup of smug satisfaction when, shortly after I turned on the road to Ellen Brae, I came across the vehicle that had passed me, broken down with a flat!  So, with a smile, I pulled into Ellen Brae for the night.  It was good to see Logan and Larissa again, and they invited me for dinner.  We also worked  a deal where I agreed to turn the extra spare in to Logan’s tire guy in Kununurra in return for a night’s stay in one of their stockman’s cabins.  Dinner was wonderful, full of great stories about the upcoming wet season and the soon-to-be-birth of their second child.  I will miss this sweet young couple and the outback paradise that is Ellen Brae!

I got up early on Monday morning, September 23, 2019, to have a cup of coffee with Larissa’s mom before heading out on my final stretch on the Gibb River Road.  I left at first light, and, about five hours later, I made it to the beginning of paved road, at the entrance to El Questro Station.  It was surprisingly emotional for me, and, as you will see in the last video below, I was a little overwhelmed upon reaching El Questro.  Here is a picture from that morning, and three short videos that I hope you enjoy!

I made this first little video to talk about the conditions one encounters on the Gibb River Road, and to express my undying love and devotion to “58489”!  The second video is of a ROADTRAIN!

In this last short video I made on the morning of Monday, September 23, 2019, I say my goodbyes to the Gibb River Road and express my gratitude for the the experiences I had while traveling in the Kimberly and the Top End.

The night before at dinner, Logan recommended that I hike up Emma Gorge to the waterfall.  He said it was a beautiful hike, with a number of gorgeous pools and a large pool and waterfall at the end.  Emma Gorge is part of El Questro, and there is a nice restaurant and lodge there, where I stopped and bought a permit for the hike.  Logan was right —  it was a beautiful hike and a beautiful set of pools and waterfall.  I am glad I took the time to experience this gorge!

After my hike at Emma Gorge, I headed to a rock art site that Lee Scott-Tribute told me about.  It is on El Questro property, but Lee has permission to visit the site, and she gave me permission pursuant to her agreement with the aboriginal traditional owners.  It was an interesting site with several Wandjina elements, and I am grateful that I got to experience it.

From the rock art site, it was only about 10 kilometers to the intersection of the Gibb River Road and the Victoria Highway, where I turned and headed east toward Kununurra.  Along the way, I decided to stop at Molly Springs, where I did the short hike to the springs and relaxed and said a few prayers for my sister, Molly Mountjoy McCoppin Burleigh.  It has been almost two years since she passed away, and I miss her each and every day.  She would have loved this beautiful little spring and oasis in the outback of Australia!

From Molly Springs, I headed into Kununurra where I located Logan’s friend at his tire shop and dropped off the extra spare.  I then headed over to Lee Scott-Tribute and Dean’s place and visited with them for a while.   As it turns out, there was some rock art in Emma Gorge that I could have probably located.  I thanked Lee and Dean for their generosity and help, then headed over to Hotel Kununurra.  I took a shower and grabbed a bite to eat before collapsing in my bed to dream sweet dreams of the Kimberly.

I left Kununurra at first light on Tuesday, September 24, 2019.  I drove straight to Katherine, then on out to Nitmiluk National Park at Katherine Gorge, which is about 30 kilometers out of town.  I arrived at the park about 1 p.m.  I decided to try to book a helicopter flight out to an art site that I had read about in a guide book.  Nitmiluk has a nice visitor center, and, when I inquired about booking a rock art helicopter tour, they said one was available at 2:30, however, if no one else signed up, I would have to pay for two tickets since there must be a minimum of two tickets sold per flight.  There was hardly anyone in the visitor center, so I decided to bite the bullet and buy two tickets.  I asked the ranger to check around to see if any of the student employees at the park wanted to make the flight.  If so, I offered to give them the extra ticket.  Lo and behold, a young student employee from Argentina,  Cecilia, was thrilled to accept my offer.

Matt was our pilot for the flight.  He was very professional and went out of his way to make Cecilia and I feel safe and comfortable.  His expertise and his knowledge of the landscape and the rock art site we visited really made this a special experience.  The flight was exciting and awe inspiring, as we flew over many scenic gorges on the way to the site.  We landed on a small platform in a small gorge, then spent about an hour and a half admiring and exploring the five panels of art located in the gorge.  Thank you Matt for taking us to that special place!  And thank you for your generosity, your good humor, and your good taste in music during our flights!

What the heck…how about one more helicopter photo and a little video I shot during the 20 minute ride out to the rock art site?  Okay, here you go!

After the thrilling helicopter ride, I left Nitmiluk National Park and headed north from Katherine up to Pine Creek, where I would spend the night.  It was about an hour and a half drive, and I enjoyed more folk art and a beautiful sunset along the way.  I checked into a comfortable room (one of the nicest of my trip) at the Pine Creek Railway Resort and walked over to the Lazy Lizard for Pizza night.  The Lazy Lizard was the best decorated pub I visited while in Australia — an interesting and welcoming place!

I was up early on Wednesday, September 25, 2019, which was my last full day in Australia.  I had to return my hired landcruiser in Darwin (about a two and a half hour drive) from Pine Creek no later than 3:30 p.m. that afternoon.  I had decided the night before to do one last hike on my last morning in the Northern Territory.  I had read about a place called Umbrawarra Gorge Nature Park, so that is where I headed.  It was about a 25 km drive on a four wheel track, but, being a grizzled veteran of the outback, was no problem.  I arrived just after the sun came up and enjoyed hiking and exploring the gorge for the next several hours.  There is supposed to be at least one very nice rock art site in the Gorge, but I never found it.  It was such a beautiful place, and I had such a great time climbing and searching, that I was only slightly disappointed.

After a wonderful hike at Umbrawarra Gorge, I headed north towards Darwin.  I stopped at the Adelaide River Inn for a bite to eat, and enjoyed the quirky gift shop.  As I neared Darwin, I stopped at the Strauss Airfield, one of a number of roadside fighter landing strips along the route.  These strips were built by the US Army with Australian assistance during WWII, and were used to hide aircraft from Japanese raids.  An interesting bit of history!

By the time I rolled into Darwin, it was about two in the afternoon.  I checked into a hotel at the airport and unloaded my personal gear.  It was time to say goodbye to my trusty landcruiser.  I drove from the hotel to the Britz depot, and said my goodbyes to “58489”.  I had grown to love that vehicle and was feeling a little emotional as I dropped her off and said goodbye.  I took a cab back to the hotel, had a swim and a nice dinner.  I repacked my gear and took a short nap before walking to the airport terminal a little after midnight to catch my overnight flight to Sydney.

I arrived at the Sydney airport at 6:30 a.m. on Thursday morning, September 26, 2019.  Since my flight back to the U.S. didn’t leave until shortly after noon, I decided to take the train over to Sydney Harbor.  I spent a couple of hours walking around the waterfront.  It was a beautiful morning, and the Sydney Opera House and the nearby Royal Botanical Gardens, provided a feast for my eyes!

A little video I made that I hope better conveys the beauty and ambiance of the area around the Sydney Opera House, Botanical Gardens, and Sydney Harbor:

After a nice walk around the Opera House and through the Royal Botanical Gardens, I headed back toward the train station.  I stopped at a gift shop and did a last bit of shopping then found a sidewalk cafe for a bit of breakfast.  I had the avocado toast and a wonderful cup of coffee, before catching the train back to the airport and catching my flight home.

This trip to Australia was, by far, my most ambitious.  The planning alone took a considerable amount of time and effort.  The trip itself was physically grueling, and, at times, emotionally challenging.  Was it worth it?  Yes, it was.  I met some wonderful people and made some friends that I expect to stay in touch with for the rest of my days.  The beautiful landscapes and the magnificent cultural resources I had the privilege to experience were beyond what my mind could imagine.  I got a wonderful taste of the Aussie spirit and the always quirky Aussie humor.  I was able to develop a closer relationship with my God — the solitude of the Australian backcountry, the sacred places I visited, and the humility and goodness of the Australian people made this possible.  Thank you Australia!