Silence and heat! At sunset as the air cools a little and tiny puffs of air do their job of evaporative cooling - but only partially - we sit and soak it up. The silence is punctuated by bird calls and occasional cracking of branches while the visual stillness is broken only by the shadow of a bird flying between trees, a tiny bat out on a twilight forage or a goat wandering to the rather tepid algae-tainted water of the poor old Darling River trickling through Pooncarie where we are camped.
Hard to believe that Pooncarie (population <50) was once a major port on the Darling - the river was deep, flowing past its busy wharf. So now? The locals have started to find dying fish here too. What a tragedy, a travesty really.
At over 3000 km in length, the Darling River system covers almost 15% of Australia. With river systems like this which have sustained the land for millennia one has to wonder why we, or rather many communities like this along its length, have such a problem with water - or the lack of it. Well no of course we don’t wonder - but they shouldn’t have a problem. Time people really talked sustainable farming practices and crops suited to our regional climates. Stepping off my soap box now, sorry.
But here, or rather there, we were in Pooncarie, why? We were attempting the Darling River Run - not the entire length but the stretch between Wentworth and Bourke, as a starter. The first leg for us began in Wentworth where the Darling meets the Murray then on through Menindee, where the famous lakes are dry! to end in Wilcannia. It was dirt road most of the way. High wind swept sand and dirt in clouds like low fog across our path and the air was tinted pale orange with willy willies scattered around the horizon. We struck some heavy rain and the road turned into a bit of a quagmire, but it was a fascinating drive under slatey, thunder-clouded skies. The rain brought the kangaroos out in groups onto the road where the water collected; they weren’t shy.
We made it to Wilcannia in time for another deluge which bucketed down just after we started changing a wheel on the caravan - isn’t it always the way!?
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| The Darling River |
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| Our favourite kind of road - no traffic! |
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| High wind swept sand and dirt in clouds like low fog across our path. |
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| A large willy willy shaded grey in the shadow of the storm clouds |
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| There had been a wee bit of rain!! |
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| The mud plastered on our rig was a couple of cm thick. |
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