Totally disconnected

We have driven about 440km today from Burra. Not a huge distance but we had to have another look at the front wheel bearings both this morning before we started and again when we stopped for some lunch, which took up a little bit of time.

We’re about 60km outside of a town called Leigh Creek – not sure how much of a town it is considering the last “town” we “drove through” was simply a public toilet block, 3 houses and a hotel. It did have a sign saying fuel and I think I remember driving past a lone fuel pump next to the hotel – no E10, Premium or Vortex fuel out here, just petrol or diesel. Apparently in about 200 or so kms we’ll be going past a fuel station located in Lyndhurst that is the last supplier of LPG in the northern part of South Australia.

We’re feeling quite remote and disconnected from everything and everyone we know now because we have no mobile reception, no mobile broadband connectivity and near no town of any significance. It’s 6pm and we’ve been sitting on the shady side of our car at our camping spot for about an hour now, waiting for the heat of the day to dissipate. In that time I can almost count on one hand how many cars have passed us in the near distance on this highway B83. We’ve been following the Flinders Ranges on our right for some time now and they’re absolutely lovely. Considering the land is so flat out here we have a very clear view of them in the distance.

It’s like being in another country out here. The plants look different, the roads look different, the land looks different. We’ve had two separate police persons wave to us from their cars as we passed them and a number of locals waving to us from their cars too along the way today. However we cant spot a trend between those who wave and those who don’t.

We should hopefully have connectivity with our mobile broadband within the vicinity of the next few towns (next day or so) to upload this blog. Otherwise you may be reading a couple of our entries at once.

Looking forward to starting the Oodnadatta Track tomorrow.

Till then, Cassie

OK my turn.

There is a certain peace that comes from being ‘away from it all’ but in the same respect, for people that are of a generation that is continually connected in some way or another, this also is an unsettling feeling. You might say from the comfort of your houses that you’d love it, but the isolation for us feels quite threatening. We have not felt unsafe at any stage, but we do feel a little homesick.

About 15 minutes before we reached our current destination for the night, we turned in to Parachilna. It was like Cassie described, but when you see the typical camp, food, fuel, phone sign you think your in for a little town.
To see the shipping container is your fuel station and an old payphone box as your means of communication, you can’t help but think you’re on the moon. I’m quite confident we will overcome the shock of this all, but at the same time, hesitant to proceed in the event you need a part or tool, - it’s days away. To top it off, when leaving Parachilna, we were greeted with a sign ‘Parachilna – a taste of the outback’… in our current state of mind, it was a bit of a punch to the confidence that this is only a taste of things to come.

There’s a certain comfort that comes from the car. It does everything for us, shelter, transport, accommodation, food and ultimately security. The thought of anything going wrong with it occupies my mind continually. Any  change in sound, gauges, vibrations or general feeling is a great cause for alarm. On our first day’s driving, the car would get hot if we were sitting still for too long. Naturally this was never a problem when we’re cruising along because it got heaps of airflow. I’d struck this once or twice in the past, but thought it was just from working too hard with no airflow. I thought the clutch fan was slipping even though it felt ok, I thought the water pump was failing, it felt ok. I thought the thermostat might be sticking, but it seemed ok.  (I bought a spare one anyway).
Turns out, as a final ‘i dunno’ gesture, I ran the heater flat out and it blew cold air! within 30 seconds, it was hot again and the temperature problem disappeared. Sounds like air lock? David would be happy with a problem that fixed itself, so there ya go - three days later and the gauge never gets above half way.

Still can’t find the source of the oil leak, it just feels like engine oil, but the level isn’t going down. It almost feels like the oil is too thin and at these temperatures it just leaks? I think it has 10W-40 in it, which is maybe a bit thin. I may not have noticed before because I changed it in winter. The car is my only stress.

Excuse this post if it gets a bit long winded, but it’s taking forever for the sun to get low enough to cool down.

On the upside, we are getting much better at the whole camping thing. We take minutes to setup, cook, wash up and get to sleep, and minutes to wash ourselves in the morning and be ready to go. We’re making a habit of having breakfast either at a nice cafe or on the road or once we’ve developed an appetite.

An example of our improved camping skills is the development of our flyscreens.
On the first night we somewhat sweated in the back of the car with no breeze it quickly becomes stale.
On the second night, we fashioned some rough flyscreens segments held in place by doors, taped over the back windows.
On the third night we perfected some made to measure flyscreens which look like they came on the car.
Now we can have perfect air flow with no risk of those pesky mosquitoes.

Here is our camp for tonight – as usual, parked off the road out of sight – but totally disconnected.