Woody braved the Northern Simpson
DESTINATIONS – TRAVEL DESTINATIONS
After much preparation, our mate Woody and his missus, with some mates, headed for the Madigan Line in mid-2024, but so did the rain. Here’s his story.
Some things are dead giveaways when it comes to certain personality types. People who wear their keys clipped to their belt for example, are generally fearlessly pragmatic and probably like the jingling-key sound when they walk. They often even have multi-purpose tools strapped to their waists.
People wearing very large-brimmed hats are another example. They clearly know a lot about off-roading, the bush and bovine husbandry. Team the hat with a beard and you have a bona-fide off-road and remote-touring expert. I’ve done the internet research, it’s true.
So, in preparation for our Madigan Line trip across the Simmo I went and bought a very large hat. Seeing as we have a single-cab LC79 that was a very silly idea, so it stayed home.
I tried growing a beard, but ended up looking like the kind of person that sells dreamcatchers and dodgy bikkies at the local craft market, so had to ditch that idea too.
I then resorted to actually consulting useful things like Hema maps and YouTube influencers to help plan our trip. What none of these resources told me was that storing a bottle of Baileys in our camper while off-road was a really, really bad idea.
However, I did discover that having a multi-purpose tool strapped to your person at all times would have been really handy, such as when I found myself locked in a shower cubicle at a Winton caravan park.
Thankfully our travel companion, John, was in the cubicle next door, but he’d just realised that he’d forgotten his towel, which meant he had to try to get decent while still dripping wet.
The sound of John trying to get his jeans on in such a tight space, while wet, created a chorus of grunts, sniffs and bumping noises reminiscent of the sounds a Wombat might make, if shut in a washing machine on a spin cycle.
Anyway, our route from Brissy took us up the Warrego Way, across to Boulia on the Kennedy Development Road, then into the Territory on the Donahue and Plenty Highways. We took a day in Alice to resupply then wandered down to Mount Dare, via the Binns Track. I highly recommend this drive, because the scenery is stunning and ever-changing.
I’m no stranger to overland travel around Australia, but most of this travel has been behind the bug-encrusted windscreen of a heavy vehicle, not remote area touring. (Woody’s proper job is demo’ing Volvo Group trucks to its customers and the press – Ed.)
This was to be my third foray into the Simpson Desert: the two previous expeditions were the more popular French Line, Rig Road, Knolls Track and QAA Line routes. The first trip was in a Mahindra Pik Up and the second in an Iveco Eurocargo 4×4 truck, supporting one of Daryl Beattie’s dirt bike trips.
This trip was the first time I was taking a vehicle I actually owned! Our 10-year-old LandCruiser was pretty well set up when I bought it, so apart from maintenance and stocking up on things like spare parts (hoses, belts, bearing kits etc) it was pretty much good to go.
I had some fabrication done to the tray, to allow our recently acquired Trayon camper to sit where I needed it, allowing for jerry cans of fuel against the headboard, but still throwing weight forward enough to distribute it across both axles.
John and Maree joined us in their trusty TD42 GU Patrol – arguably the best Nissan Patrol ever built, given the cult following these things have garnered over the years. John’s Patrol had seen more time as a trailer-hauler than as an off-roader, so he had taken the opportunity to upgrade the tired suspension and add an awning and roof-top tent.
You may be wondering why we went past the start of the Madigan to Mount Dare and backtracked? Fuel is the answer. This was our first real remote off-road trip in the ‘Cruiser and I wasn’t sure how much it would drink on this trip, fully laden in the sand dunes. Everybody knows how much the recently-axed VDJ likes a drink.
The Cruiser is a pre-DPF GXL model, so it came equipped with twin 90-litre tanks. I also had three 30-litre plastic jerry cans against the headboard as well, giving us a total of 270 litres. Probably a bit of overkill but fuel means options.
These jerries are the sort that Ineos Grenadier and Jeep owners like to bolt to the outside of their rigs, but this cringe factor aside, they are so much easier to handle than the old-school military types.
Getting onto the start of the Madigan was a little confusing as there’s a track that runs along the fence surrounding the Mac Clark Reserve. However, this comes to a fairly new barbed wire fence. The correct route is actually through the reserve. Unfortunately, someone saw fit to just push the fence over and keep driving.
After about 90 kays of beautiful escarpment country and not-so-beautiful corrugations, we made camp among the dunes, just past Camp 6. We sat with our fire pit flickering and a couple of beers and watched a thunderstorm light show in the south-western night sky get closer and closer.
The forecast was for only about eight millimetres of rain, but when we awoke to a sodden landscape the next morning it looked like a lot more. In fact, it was still raining.
We discussed the weather over a cuppa and decided to push on. We had more than enough food and water to tide us over if we had to sit out any flooding.
The second day was a slog, as we ground through the tall dunes, averaging about 10-15km/h. The scenery though, was spectacular. After an unseasonal amount of rain, the desert was blooming and wildflowers and greenery contrasted starkly with the vivid reds of the desert sand. A south-westerly carved patterns and shapes in the exposed sand, while shreds of low cloud hung in the valleys between the dunes.
Camp 11 was where we pulled up for a cold and blowy camp. This was also where I found the floor of our camper awash with Baileys, which added insult to injury, as it would have been the perfect night for a dram.
That night a large herd of camels wandered through camp, to fill up on water pooled in the middle-camp clearing. Noisy buggers!
The next day saw us reach the Hay River Track. We’d aimed to do the entire Madigan Line but flooding had closed the track at Camp 16, where it turns off the Hay River. This meant we had to head south to Lake Poeppel and pick up the QAA Line to Birdsville.
The detour down the Hay River track was a trip highlight. While it’s a reasonably easy drive, the Gidgee and stunted eucalypts painted a stark picture against the surrounding dunes. Around every corner there seemed to be a cloud of iridescent budgerigars wheeling through the trees, while galahs swooped and shrieked.
After a couple of beautiful camps on the Hay River, we headed off south again, to make a small diversion to Poeppel’s Corner for the obligatory pic.
As luck would have it, after not seeing a single soul for three days, we arrived just as nine vehicles pulled up from the French Line, disgorging an army of kids and mums and dads. Talk about a shock to the system!
After heading back to the QAA I made a very silly decision: I decided to risk crossing Lake Poeppel. After all, other people had done it, why couldn’t I?
If I was a cool YouTuber, I would’ve had a drone in the air as I roared across the clay pan, with a rooster tail of mud behind me. As I ground to a halt with wheels spinning, the camera inside the car would’ve caught me saying a swear word as I picked up the radio to advise that I was indeed stuck. Outside the car I would’ve been able to film a piece to camera on how I was going to recover the car. I could even have used the opportunity to give a sponsor a plug.
Instead, I was waylaid by an old bloke, who looked suspiciously like Catweasel, as he leapt out of his bogged Pajero, overjoyed at having company. His son and grandson looked on with trepidation from the safety of their vehicle as I broke out the high-lift jack, shovel and Maxxtrax to get myself out.
We found a firm path out, so I turned around and headed back the way I came, with my tail between my legs.
We’d offered to try and help old mate but he’d refused help, saying he was going to wait until it dried out. It was then he also admitted to being down to 500ml of water and two apples. He had no recovery gear other than a shovel and two home-made, wooden sand ladders.
We gave him 20 litres of water and got our utes off the pan. John and I then walked back to him and convinced him to have a crack at getting out. We dropped his tyres to 10psi while directing him back to firm ground.
It worked, but boy did his son and grandson have the shits with Pop by this stage: there was a definite frostiness in the atmosphere in that Pajero.
Amazingly, the QAA line was pretty quiet and we found a great spot roughly 20km east of Lake Poeppel for our final night in the desert.
After days of serenity, we then had to put pedal to the metal, because more rain was on the way. As it turned out, Western Queensland was about to have its wettest couple of days for years.
Getting across the Eyre Creek bypass was a priority, as there was already a lot of water on the clay pans and in the creeks.
We emerged blinking from the desert into a world of chaos. The Big Red Bash had ended early, due to the incoming wet weather. There were wobble boxes galore on the Birdsville Development Road, making a mad dash for the asphalt.
It was like something out of a Mad Max sequel, if Max was a retired accountant, with a Nissan Navara and a hybrid caravan.
We chased down the plumes of dust, as the rolling roadshow of panicked punters fled the channel country in search of internet and sushi.
The Madigan Line is a great trip and I’d dearly love to complete the rest of it one day. However, the Hay River Track is definitely one worthy of putting on the list. Just keep an eye on the skies and maybe avoid the Big Red Bash!
LandCruiser fuel taken: 270 litres
Fuel used: 150 litres
While you’re in this Destinations section of the OTA website, be sure to check out our other reports on the Hay River Track and the Madigan Line.
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