"Pub!" we all yell in a mixture of relief and desperation.

The dusty Land Cruiser immediately cuts a tight, mid-road U-turn and we head back up the road. In that instant we had just driven through the entire town of Cradock, population five. It is the first town we have seen in nearly 300 kilometres of driving on the bone jarring roads of outback South Australia. Despite its size we could call it a town because it has that one true sign of civilisation: a pub.

Outside the Cradock Hotel

We pulled up outside the tin roofed Cradock Hotel in a cloud of red bull dust and gunned the engine a couple of times before switching it off. By the four of us hopping out of the vehicle, we had nearly doubled the town's population.

We cracked a few of the usual city slicker jokes about hillbillies, incest and farm animals as we made our way to the front door. We were hoping for a bite to eat and guzzle a few cold beers to wash down the dust that had caked our throats.

Since we were the only customers that night the publicans gave us all their attention. We soon found that David and Julie weren't the hillbillies we were expecting. They too were city slickers fleeing the restricted horizons of the big smoke (city). After half a dozen Britney Spears (beers) we settled down to dinner. So as not to trouble her too much, we asked Julie to whip up whatever was easiest. You can imagine our surprise when instead of a tough steak and over-cooked vegetables we were presented with lamb shanks seasoned with rosemary on a bed of creamy polenta and a glass of red wine. The outback is full of surprises.

With our bellies full we retired to the poolroom to smoke cigars and drink beer till late into the night. When our skills at the pool table deteriorated beyond belief we staggered off to bed - the local creek bed. While spreading out my sleeping bag on the pebbles I remembered being told something about the relationship between dry creeks and flash floods, but in my inebriated condition the only thing I could decipher was the Southern Cross in the night sky. I slept well that night.

Climbing the Great Wall

Wilpena Pound, a spectacular crater-like formation in the heart of the Flinders ranges was our next destination. The orange cliffs of Moonarie, on the eastern edge of the Pound, were calling. Moonarie is one of the most spectacular rock climbing crags in Australia. Located high up on the edge of the pound the 150 metre cliffs offer exposed traditional climbs on immaculate rock. No visit to Moonarie is complete without a climb on the imposing Great Wall.

Once we had worn the skin off our fingertips and the rubber off our shoes we headed north towards the remote Gammon ranges. Along the way we stopped off to climb Mt Chambers and admire the ancient rock carvings of the Adnyamathanha people in Chambers Gorge.

Red dust, dry earth, corrugated dirt roads, thorny scrub, salt bush, majestic River Red Gum trees, dry creeks, cobalt skies, hundreds of miles of cattle fencing, kangaroo road kill, rusting windmills, dusty four wheel drives and two fingered waves. Road Sign: Next service station 140 kilometres.

The awesome scale of the nothingness around numbed us to a contemplative silence. The harshness and immensity of the outback somehow makes you realise your insignificance in the grand scheme of things. The landscape is so unfamiliar and hostile that it makes you feel like you are on Mars. I am so glad to be cocooned in air-conditioned luxury, armed with an esky full of beer. Just looking out of the window can make you feel thirsty.

The Gammon Ranges, located in the far north of South Australia on the edge of the Simpson Desert, have some hard yakka bush walks for those with the experience and map reading skills. Out here, there are no walking tracks, only dry riverbeds. Walking on rounded river rocks and hopping over boulders for kilometres at a time is extremely strenuous and a sprained ankle is only a step away. To add to this, for most of the year, there are only about five permanent water holes in the entire national park!

We soon found that our map reading skills were far from reliable when we ended up in the middle of nowhere after a hard day's walking. Although we did eventually manage to find Bunyip Chasm on our second attempt, we shelved the idea of doing any multi-day walks in the area till we brushed up on our map and compass skills.

Since this area also has a rich cultural history we decided to spend a couple of days at Iga Warta, near the Aboriginal community of Nepabunna. Iga Warta is a camp and educational centre run by members of the Adnyamathanha tribe. They conduct tours and classes on everything from bush tucker to boomerang making and interpreting cave paintings.

With Sharpie at Iga Warta

Sharpie, a self-described hobo and part-time rodeo rider took us out for a walk into the bush and taught us about bush tucker; seeds and fruit the Aboriginal people harvested when they lived off the land. All of a sudden we began to see the nurturing side of what initially appeared to be an extremely inhospitable environment.

During our stay we also learnt about the sordid history of dispossession, discrimination and cultural breakdown that the local Aboriginal tribes experienced when the white settlers moved into the area.

After learning how to make damper, drinking copious amounts of West End beer and singing drunken songs around the campfire, we had run out of time and had to hit the road again.

Even today, six months later, every time we hop in our car we are reminded of the many thousand kilometres we drove during our outback trip - the car hasn't stopped squeaking since!

Questions?
If you want more information about this area you can email the author or check out our Pacific Insiders page.