The Holland Track. Dodging the Ditches



 

Four wheel driving has always been on our to do list. We are talking the more conservative kind of ‘off-road’ driving where you just try to get to your destination without getting bogged or smashing up the car and anyone in it. This time we are getting serious and gunning for the Holland track.




The gumtrees at dusk

Luckily for us we had some great friends to share this experience with. We met our honorary semi-grey nomadic mates at Forrestania plots, a free campsite just  7 km North from the Holland track turn off on the Norseman to Hyden road. We used our CB’s all the time to tip off each other of the more tricky parts on the track but mainly to just have some serious fun.





The meeting place at the Forretania pub??!

At the entrance of the trail an interpretive sign and a plaque pays homage to the efforts of John Holland, the Krakouer brothers and John Carmody who blazed this trail from Broomhill to Coolgardie in 1893. It was built to facilitate travelling to Kalgoorlie during the gold rush. It took the foursome just over two months to build the track, but in a cruel twist of events, a railway was laid only three years later between Northam and Kalgoorlie which rendered the Holland track almost obsolete.




Well over 100 years old

The first part on the Holland track ventures through low scrub and sandy planes. There is evidence of fires some years ago with black branches pointing to the sky with green undergrowth.

Our convoy

Throughout the track you will discover that the expedition of 1893 did not have the means to remove the big trees. Expect not to go straight, but curl your way through the tree trunks on a narrow trail. Warning!!! If you are precious about collecting some scratches on your car this may not be the place for you.





I managed to capture this very shy Malee Fowl



Suddenly deep tyre ruts will appear when you are rounding any of the countless corners. Many of these massive potholes were still full of murky water from the recent rains. You have the choice to be the cool “bogan without a course” and thrash your way through them risking to get bogged or to partake in the more civilized alternative with detours around these deep ditches. We attempted to choose the safe option, but inexplicably found ourselves balancing, tight rope like, high above these grooves with the knowledge that one false move would slam us with a bang, axel deep in the muddy depths of a rut. Not for the faint hearted but one for the white knuckle fun brigade.





The mother of all ditches.

Around the halfway point is what, at first glance, looks like an organised rubbish dump??? At further inspection it appears to be a spontaneously erected memorial with a mixture of what someone may need in the ‘sticks’ or just discarded bits and pieces. What is anyone going to do with a garden gnome out here? Inside a treasure box which is part of this ‘kooky’ display is a sign in book to make sure that you were there. We saw someone discarding their beloved broken camping toilet chair in the hope that it too will find a better use.

 




Trash or treasure?

The latter part of the track became an interesting mix of flat, low scrubs, rocky outcrops and more and more magnificent Eucalyptus forest.




The sign that had seen better days

Around Centenary Rock a massive fire swept through this area resulting in the rock and landscape looking an eerie black and brown.




Brown and blackened landscape

There were possible campsites that were marked on the map which we used all along the track, but we pulled over to camp when we saw a spot that took our fancy. Camping doesn’t come much wilder than this. Every night there was complete silence except for the lonely call of an owl and the stars were out without any pollution of electric generated lights from a town or city.

On the last night a captivating thunder and lightning storm finally took away the heat of the day.




The sky looked amazing before the storm

When we arrived in Coolgardie, we visited the graveyard to pay our respects to John Holland and our unforgettable journey on the Holland way.

We discovered that, tragically, Agnes Holland, Johns wife, contracted Typhoid and died in 1894 - a year after the completion of the track. John Holland never remarried and when John died many years later at the ripe old age of 80 in 1936, he was laid to rest in the cemetery in Coolgardie and reunited, after 42 years, with his wife Agnes at long last.

Agnes Holland discovered this spring in the middle of nowhere

 Grey Bits

A big thanks to Lynette and Stewart for the awesome chats, advise, generosity, friendship and Lynette's delicious cooking.



The Holland track runs from Hyden to Coolgardie, is 321km long and took us three day to complete. The first 60km out of Hyden and last 30 odd kms into Coolgardie are either bitumised or fast dirt roads. That means you are bush-bashing for around 230km.



Writing in the logbook

We traveled with a middle-of-the-range, four wheel drive and a roof top tent and our mates had a ‘you beaut’ landcruiser which came through also unscathed with a camper trailer. In my opinion taking a caravan on this terrain would be foolish but entertaining at the same time.




The man with the cruiser

The Toyota landcruiser club WA are in charge of maintaining the track in conjunction with DPaw. Visit their website on http://tlccwa.org.au/ for further information.


I would recommend you carry recovery gear and a satellite communication device with you on this remote trail.

A shovel can be very handy for obvious reasons.



Mmm!!! A broken toilet chair.

We ended up staying in a free campsite 10km south of Kalgoorlie called Lake Douglas. It is a pretty spot where we were lucky enough to see a spectacular sunset over the lake as fitting end to our adventure.




Enjoying lake Douglas at beer o'clock

 
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The Norseman to Hyden road. A hidden gem.

 

If you are in the Goldfields or traveling across the Nullarbor make sure you get on the Norseman to Hyden road. We started our trip just outside Norseman where we left our caravan in the care of Ron and Ziggy (see the Ron and Ziggy blog at http://semigreynomad.blogspot.com/2016/05/ron-and-ziggy.html) and drove the amazing road from Norseman to Hyden. The dirt road is of such high quality I found the car wondering off in the 90 to 100km per hour range and still feeling quite safe.

 



The smooth ride from Norseman to Hyden

The first 150 km of this road is set amidst the most unbelievable display of gum trees I have ever seen. We saw Black Butts, Gimlets and the famous Salmon Gums that light up at dawn and dusk. This area is certainly an underrated hidden gem and photography here is pure pleasure.







Colourful camouflaged dragon lizards were everywhere on these rocks

 

 



After cruising for about 80km you will see Disappointment Rock appear on the left of the track. There is a great walk marked with quirky interpretive signs indicating sites like “natural bridge” or “gnomes picnics area”. The size of those formations has to be, sorry, disappointing but the landscape and wildlife are certainly not.




Water on Disappointment Rock


Adding to the pleasure of driving through these woodlands are three remarkable spots to free camp. The first campsite area we came across was at Lake Johnson. Nestled at the shore of the massive, at the time, dry pan you are treated with the vast open views from the shelter of old Gimlet trees. 

The view over Lake Johnson after the fog had lifted


We drove in and out of the McDermid rock campsite, which would have been a perfect place to camp underneath the gum trees. We would have loved to have stayed the night here watching the sun set from the top of this huge boulder. Stuck on the back of this granite mass is a large pebble (balancing rock) insecurely, but spectacularly teetering on a steep slope and well worth the clamber up the almost vertical start of the walk.

 

  



The area around the Breakaways at dusk

The friendly lady behind the counter of the Norseman visitors centre rightly recommended the Breakaways as her preferred place to camp out. All eight spacious sites snuggle up to a large limestone wall that gives shelter against the wind and give you the feeling of living in a cave. In the evening you can sit and watch the colors of these change at dawn and dusk or cast your own funny shadows at night.

 

Camping next to the limestone wall

At the end of this road, just before you get to Hyden, lays one of the most popular tourist attractions in Australia - "Wave Rock". I recommend going early in the morning to view the granite breaker as to avoid the ripples of tourists surfing this motionless swell of stone. By the time you finish riding the wave of excitement, dodging your way through the crowd as if you are starting in a triathlon, you would be ready to return to the quiet woodlands of the Hyden to Norseman track.

 

When the crowd ebbed I managed to take this photo

 

 Grey Bits

 

 

Don't miss Hippos Yawn at Wave Rock

Check out the road conditions before you go as it can change in an instant. There are signs at the beginning telling you which part of the road is open or you can call Main Roads WA, “Road Conditions” at 1800 013 314.

 

Check road conditions as things can change

You can collect a free map of the Hyden-Norseman road called the Granite and Woodlands Trail at the Norseman or Wave Rock visitors centre for updates. It contains a lot more information about this area and I have used it as a reference in my story.

 

The view from Disappointment rock

We met a local photographer called Lynn Webb in Norseman who’s photographs I rate highly. Have a look at his stunning artwork at www.lynnwebb.com.au or visit his gallery at the roundabout with the tin camels in Norseman. Sorry Lynn - we could not fit any of your work in our caravan!

 

Before the landing

 

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The bush around McDermid Rock

 

Kangaroo tails

 

The nightscape at the Peron homestead

 

The hills are alive out the back of the Peron homestead.  You can find red dust, bush, goat skulls, a heck of a lot of wildlife and an old Bilby enclosure only 300 metres away.  This was a successful program ran by DpaW as part of Project Eden. There is now proof on camera that the Bilby population is bouncing back from near extinction at Francois Peron National Park. We were told that there are several Bilbys still hanging around the old disused enclosures overlooking the homestead.

 

The old Bilby enclosures

Enter Mars and Jules – those semi-grey nomads that love the wildlife. ‘Let’s go Bilby spotting tonight!’ they say.  Armed with two massive torches we climb the hill in that eerie Australian night-scape and discover for ourselves how smart Bilbys are and do not appear when you want them to. Their ears are huge and they must have heard the virtual ‘boom-box’ footsteps of ours from miles away. Disappointed, we returned down the hill where we strolled past the goat enclosure. This is a fenced off area with two gates – it is there to capture and remove goats from the national park.

 

The goat enclosure with emus that just don't understand.

 

Shining our torches into the enclosure we spotted a mighty Euro kangaroo with bulging muscles sitting on the edge of the trough having a casual drink. Even though we were standing there for quite some time, at the entrance it was not noticing us at all. Suddenly it got spooked and hopped very fast toward us. I stepped forward and with arms in the air, I yelled ‘Whaaaa’!!!! This big missile jumped sideways very quickly and missed crashing into us by a mere whisker. As we are still thanking our lucky stars we soon realised we were under fire again, as a second, but smaller Euro flew towards us at breakneck speed missing myself by a hairs-width, but cannoned into Julie’s legs. Julie was scooped up into the air and for a couple of seconds was awkwardly-perched, balancing on top of the head of the briefly halted torpedo and gently slid down landing with an undignified thump to the ground while letting out an eardrum splitting squeal. Julie was obviously shaken but miraculously unhurt. While the Australian bowling champion hopped off into the darkness, I did the only thing a man (a nervous man) could do in this situation – have a really good (unappreciated) belly-laugh.

 

 





A kangaroo at dusk contemplating the next move

 

Please note the following story may be disturbing for some readers.



Fast forward two months where we are campground hosting for a couple of weeks at Canebrake Pool  near Margaret River. It is an early Saturday morning and we are driving to Busselton to participate in the Geographe Bay parkrun. We are both in a terrific mood and laughing about a Dutch couple we met the previous day who were very taken by the ’28 parrots’ that are common as mud in the south-west. Dutch accents are flying around in the car and when hilarity reaches its crescendo the grey back of a Kangaroo suddenly appears in front of us for a split second and immediately disappears with a “clonk” underneath the car. I pulled over straight away in a daze and remembered to switch on the hazard lights. My heart sinking as deep as it will go. I can hear Julie starting to sob uncontrollably “Oh, no, it has broken its leg” she said choking on the words. I think;  I can’t do this. I stepped out of the car and walk across the 20 metres of red slightly corrugated dirt track towards this amazing creature. She is on the ground writhing in circles trying desperately to get up.






I made the decision very fast and looked for a rock. After I found the right size (how do I even begin to know what the size should be?) I returned back to the car and turned all rear vision mirrors away from where Julie, who by know was seriously distraught, would not be painted a permanent brain image of her “man?” brutally killing a harmless, undeserving, native being. I walked back the 20 metres as if it was my green mile and stood over her. I placed my foot on her shoulder to turn her head sideways but I am surprised about the animals power as she struggles free. I can’t do this. The next image has been burned into my memory ever since. The roo is facing me now with her front paws extended towards me. She looks at me with those dark eyes and almost manicured eyelashes  straight into my soul as if to say” you are going to help me, aren’t you?” In my mind I violently steel myself to ignore this look and manage after several attempts to pin the roo down with my foot.  I can’t do this. Slowly my arm rises above my head. I look up at my hand and the white knuckles that are squeezed around the rock. I can’t do this. This is it Mars. I look at the side of her head and aim to kill for the first time in my life.

The end.

Dear reader, I have to interrupt this story and turn away the rear vision mirrors for you the same as I did for Julie. I hope what I ended up doing was the right thing for this exquisite animal and do not think it is necessary to describe the events any further.  


Grey Bits

 

I was driving seventy five kilometres per hour. Way below the legal speed limit when the car hit the roo. There was no time to avoid her. 
 
There is more risk when you are driving at dawn and dusk to hit our native wildlife. Try to plan your trip accordingly, please. 

Please check the pouch of a female Kangaroo for Joeys after an accident.

Give the pouch a good inspection
 

Do not put a wounded Kangaroo in your car. They are very strong and can easily hurt you or your family.

Do not corner a Kangaroo or Emu. They have an inbuilt fight or flight sense that triggers them to run in random directions. They will run straight into you as Julie can vouch for or they may hurt themselves sometimes fatally by crashing into walls, fences and cars. 




Emus panic too

  
We have bought sonic animal devices that emit a high frequency pitched sound that may prevent wildlife running towards a moving vehicle. You can purchase these whistles from any Auto shop.
Kangaroos cannot see very well but their hearing is sharp. Try yelling something when you want a Roo to take note.  Maybe a few profanities in roo lingo may do the job.

How would you feel if you had to kill a Kangaroo given the same situation? Are you prepared to do the job required? Do you know the best way to kill a kangaroo as humanely as possible? Would this be a life changing event for you?




A joey in full flight

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Ron and Ziggy

Ziggy and Ron.

For Geoff

The offending piece of equipment

The first we heard from Ron was his generator. We arrived at Canebrake Pool, non-generator campsite, as camp hosts with the hummm of this noisy apparatus as welcoming serenade in this otherwise tranquil bush camp. We decided to ava’ yarn. During our advance to camp Ron we heard Ziggy's feisty yap for the first time. Ziggy the dog is a Shiatsu, Maltese cross and a red hot little guard dog. Nothing gets near Ron’s trailer without being profusely barked at by the little star man. Over the next couple of weeks we heard the word “Ziggy” yelled out in all sorts of different ways. There was a gruff “Ziggy” if someone walked by or a despairing “Ziggy” when his hunting instinct took over and started chasing a bungarra. “He will tear up a goanna if it gets close” Ron pronounced. “That’s why Ziggy is always on the lead”.

Ziggy sniffing out a possible intruder

Ron soon turned out to be always up for a chat and being of true semi grey nomad ilk, we are allowing ourselves more time for other humans of any kind. Over the next three weeks we got to know Ron quite well. Ron is the person who talks the most of anyone I know that has claimed “I don’t talk much”. Ron can chew the leg off a chair but his stories were always fascinating and loved listening to them.

 

 

Ron in the middle of a story

 

 

 

We found out how his home built trailer was set up with the generator, how he stayed at free camp-sites where they allowed dogs, how he had travelled like this for the last 12 years and and how he was living without fixed abode. Ron has three kids he spoke of with some feeling, but was divorced when, in his words,“she found another fellah”. Ziggy had walked into Rons campsite three years ago and they have taken good care of each other ever since. Julie spent hours talking to Ron about grooming, worming, defleaing, what to feed Ziggy and you could see the pair go for “walkies” at least twice a day.



Ziggy just walked into Rons camp

Three weeks after saying goodbye to the pair at Cranebrake we pulled over to investigate a free camping spot called Bromus Dam close to Norseman. “Hey look Jules - it looks like another Ron” I said, pointing at a campsite in the distance. Promptly, from afar the unmistaking yap of Ziggy followed by a gruff “Ziggy". Ziggy excitedly ran to us like we were long lost friends and jumped all over us. We were all very surprised to find each other in this spot. Ron left Canebrake the same day as us and was on his way to a secret locatation around Kalgoorlie to go prospecting. He said with a cheeky grin that a 36 million dollar nugget, like the one someone found recently, would be a great supplement to his pension. In the same breath he said he would not change his lifestyle one bit but maybe emphasise “style” just a little.

Over a few coldies during what's known as the grey nomad's happy hour, Ron passionately talked about the Vietnam war. As a Corporal in the army, he was teaching his fellow soldiers specialising in the art of dropping in behind enemy lines. The troops were just about to be sent in, including young Corporal Ron, when Whitlam pulled the Aussies out of Vietnam. Ron said he felt very frustrated that he and his men could not go to Vietnam and use the skills they had trained so hard for and to do his bit for this country. An interesting discussion developed whether  Ron, in this case, was plain unlucky or if he had dodged a bullet.



We mentioned to Ron our plans to drive the excuisite Norseman to Hyden road and the rugged Holland track on the way back and asked if Ron and Ziggy would mind guarding our van. In my mind, leaving our van with Ron and Ziggy was always a safe option even though we only knew him for less than a month. Ziggy would raise mary hell if anyone came near our caravan. Ron said they were not going anywhere soon and accepted the job and the carton that would come his way.  When we checked in over the phone from Kalgoorlie he mischievously said the van was ok but he had a couple of offers on it.





Ziggy guarding our property

 

When we returned from our Holland track adventure, we sat down for a cuppa with Ron and Ziggy. In the shade of his tarpaulin Ron said, with a glint in his eye, he was chasing “real freedom”. No one bugging him, out in the wilderness and living out his life.



Ron's camp at Bromus Dam

Crucial to living free out bush, he said you needed to have a fresh water source, good enough to wash clothes and do the dishes as he pointed at a 20 litre white container with greenish water and a tadpole swimming around in it.

Ron always had his fly squat handy as the marsh flies were prolific biters. When one such horrid horse fly creature bit Ron on the leg, Ziggy was immediately at hand to lick the bite gently. We were witnessing a close and loving relationship between dog and man.

Ziggy showing affection

If you find a good place to camp next to a billabong and see Ron’s camp and his fiery grey ball of energy go over and say G’day. We wish Ron and Ziggy the best  of luck on the road and we will call his phone number every once in a while to see if they are both ok or just in case he does find that massive nugget.

 

Grey Bits

 
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Some of the carton we paid Ron with for services rendered