The Gibb
Every self-respecting Australian four wheel driver, traveller, soft adventurer or dreamer has heard of the Gibb River Road. The Gibb – as it’s fondly referred to – cuts a northerly arc between Kununurra in the east to Derby on the Western Australian coast. It’s rough and dusty track runs for about 700 km and was originally built for the huge road trains that moved cattle and goods from remote stations to market. More importantly for modern day travellers, it passes through some of the most remote and beautiful country in Australia. It is a must-do for any four-wheel driver who is remotely nearby and we had it dead in our sights. Bring it on!
The Gibb of legends in years past and the Gibb of today are two different beasts. Today the road is graded occasionally and you can make relatively good time on it if you keep the
speed down for the loose gravel, killer corrugation, soft spots and deep dips, any of which can do damage to a vehicle not respecting their dangers. In fact, two different people told us that there are plans by the WA government to pave the Gibb in the next two years, blasphemy to all who know it and pointless from what I could see, such is the minimal traffic we saw and the fact there is not a single town or community on the entire length of the road.
First stop for us was El Questro Wilderness Park, established in 1991 to bring travellers to their spectacular cattle station, the centre feature of which is the long and dramatic Cockburn Ranges. The park offers accommodation ranging from camping to $2,000 suites with stunning views overlooking the Pentecost River, plus numerous four wheel drive tracks, walking paths, thermal hot springs, swimming holes, helicopter rides, bars and restaurants. Reluctantly deciding not to take on one of their famous suites, we opted to camp for two nights in a private spot on the banks of the Pentecost River under the safe branches of some of the largest and most beautiful paperbark gums we had ever seen.
We spent our time at El Questro walking their numerous trails, including back to beautiful Emma Gorge where we had a swim, and using their four wheel drive tracks to explore some of the far reaches of their station. The Pentecost River winds its way amongst the mountains with their high red cliffs, through narrow gorges and across some beautiful country, often viewable from sweeping vistas on the top of hills. The imposing red cliffs and deep blue water of Chamberlain Gorge in a remote part of the property was our favourite. Despite our initial scepticism over how we would handle this commercialised, expensive ($50 per night for bush camping) and heavily marketed property we absolutely loved it – a great experience.
From El Questro we continued westward on the dusty and corrugated Gibb, stopping for views along the way, crossing numerous creeks, including the beautiful Durack River, enjoying the whole experience. This land and all that we had been crossing for the last week or so was originally settled by some famous pastoralist families such as the Duracks, Buchanans and Macdonalds. They drove cattle from Queensland and New South Wales, sometimes taking years to do so, in an attempt to settle this endless land. The story of these original settlers is an important part of the region’s history.
During the trip Julie has been reading Mary Durack’s classic book Kings in Grass Castles about her family’s amazing story that covered over 100 years. The Duracks and families like them endured unimaginable hardship in one of Australia’s most remote and hostile environments and it was great fun for us to identify landmarks and sites that were visited or settled by the Duracks.
On a couple of very short sections when the Gibb climbs over a steep hill the road is already paved, presumably to save on maintenance costs, and it was on one of these bitumen section that we heard a loud bang from behind and felt the grinding shutter of the vehicle that all drivers recognise – a flat tyre. One of our new (well, 13,000 kms) tyres which had survived some horrible roads in the Northern Territory and Arnhem Land, had finally given up on us, shot to pieces. And I had joined an honourable society of four wheel drivers who had had a puncture on the Gibb, even if my claim is slightly tainted by the fact I was on a one kilometre stretch of pavement. Bugger.
The first tyre change on a new car is never fun, having to figure out where everything is and how to do it (made more difficult by the Land Cruiser which stores its spare underneath the car), but we were in the middle of the day at 38 degrees (about 101 degrees Fahrenheit) and the bitumen was too hot to touch. To make matters worse, much worse, one of the five studs that hold the tyre on snapped off when I tried to get the nut off, meaning we would have to drive with only four bolts holding the tyre on – a discomforting thought on these bad roads. In any case, after an hour of hard work where you really wished your two strong sons were with you, and interrupted by the occasional fellow four wheel driver who would stop to offer assistance, we were back on the road, bruised but still beating.
All long distance four wheel drive travellers in Australia carry two spares, and our second spare (which was a replacement for the one we cunningly burned in Cape Melville) safely rides in the front basket on our roof, but having only one spare in these remote places on such bad roads is asking for trouble. Our strategy was to move on to our intended camping spot that night at Drysdale Station and hope they could replace the tyre.
Drysdale Station is an incomprehensible one million acre (4,000 square kilometre) station about 60 km north of the Gibb. The track they are on continues north to the famous Mitchell Falls and the Aboriginal community of Kalumburu. We stopped for the night at the station homestead, a large operation which included camping and a little restaurant and bar, but learned they did not have a replacement tyre for us. A call to another ‘nearby’ station confirmed they had our tyre and would be happy to fit it for us. The only problem is that it was 130 km back the way we came, meaning a 260 km detour on rough bumpy roads to replace our tyre.
But that’s what we did. The next morning we went back the way we came to Ellenbrae Station where he charged me about $250 more than the tyre would cost in Sydney (my negotiating position being rather weak, I quickly paid) and then we drove all the way back to Drysdale Station and continued north, our target – the tip of Western Australia.
The road to Kalumburu is about 260 kms, a long tough drive on a road that slowly deteriorates into a rough four wheel drive track riddled with deep corrugations, heavy gravel and exposed rocks. Our plan, such as it was on this crazy day, was to get to the community before 4.30 so we could apply for one of the two permits we needed to visit this Aboriginal land. Unfortunately the shocking road, and my new strategy to drive a little slower so my damaged wheel mount doesn’t throw a wheel, meant that we arrived in this small Aboriginal town after the office had closed. In fact, one person told us a community elder had passed away that day which meant there was no certainty about any opening and closing times.
Kalumburu has about 300 people living there, almost all Aborigines except for those running the Catholic Mission which was established in 1927 and still runs the small church grounds, community store, school and museum. All of the housing we saw were government built homes (and we saw other non-locals building more) and as we had seen in other similar communities, the pace of life was very slow with front verandas being the most popular place and no noticeable commercial activities. We passed through the town and drove 30 kms along a wretched track that practically jarred us and the Cruiser to jelly. But the prize of this long drive was worth it – Honeymoon Beach.
We drove down onto the beach and found a little spot to back the truck in just as the sun was setting. A very long and difficult day on some horrible roads was over and we sat on our beachside spot enjoying the last rays of light and knowing that we had made the most northerly point you can drive to in WA, we were still intact and we had the most beautiful view to end the day. We deserved it!