This trip — actually, let’s call it what it is now: a journey — has been smashing my usual PPP mode (plan, plan, plan) into tiny little pieces. This adventure needs some structure, sure, but it definitely doesn’t need to be over‑thought.
Going north to Birdsville and back down? That door slammed shut. So… options. Our mate Gary threw a few ideas at us, including heading via Broken Hill. Plenty of magic south and west of us, so why not.
Cue our first of what I suspect will be many sharp turns — this one was left.
Cunning Plan #?? — The Broken Hill Gambit
The new plan was simple: head towards Broken Hill and attack Lake Eyre from that side. On 12 August we left Nyngan and rolled into Condobolin — our first “donation camp” in a while. The drive took us through the irrigation plains of the Murray–Darling, with yellow canola fields glowing between grain crops.
We camped at Gum Bend Lake and instantly loved it. Great facilities, a 3km concrete loop around the lake, a bit boggy at first… but absolute drone heaven at sunset. Stayed a couple of days.
Whilst we were staying at this lake, this bus turned up – apparently was one of the buses used by Bob Ansett to take passengers from the airport in the 1960’s. Guy who owned it had driven this bus everywhere and even through the Aussie desert – amazing bus and man.
Forbes, Sculptures, and the First Taste of Dirt
Day trip to Forbes via the Lachlan Sculpture Trail — about a dozen large sculptures spaced every few kilometres. Thoughtful, inspiring, and proof that remote councils sometimes have more vision than the big cities.
Quick wander around Forbes, then back to camp via the opposite river road — our first taste of the dirt roads we’ll be tackling in the coming months.
Next day: Mt Tilga lookout. 360° views, dead quiet, could hear sheep bleating below. Magic.
We were hooked on lake camping by now. Shelly even did her own park run around the lake.
Lake Cargelligo — and the First Alarm Bells
Next stop: Lake Cargelligo. Deadmans Point was a great choice. Dust off the back door, start setup, and meet Kelsey and her dog Ziggy — a solo traveller in a Coaster with instant kindred‑spirit vibes.
Went looking for a walk, ended up at the visitor centre… and that’s when we first heard about the Mundy Mundy Bash happening the following Saturday. Around 1500 campers heading 50km north of Broken Hill for a big party.
Didn’t think much of it at first — but the alarm bells started quietly ringing.
Met Nik and her dog Albert (blue heeler cross, Insta-famous: AlbertAntics007). More chats, more road condition updates, more Bash info… and suddenly those bells were louder.
Most Bash‑goers would be heading the same direction we were. Northern roads were closed. Another weather front was coming from the west. Dirt roads were sounding less appetising by the day.
Plans not changed yet… but the universe was definitely clearing its throat.
South‑West Drift — Griffith, Hillston, and Farm Life
We kept drifting southwest and headed to Griffith via Hillston. Tried a second farm stay — vineyard/orchard run by Joe and Sharyn. Campsite was beside the tractor shed, but we decided to base ourselves there for three days.
Into Griffith for supplies, info centre, and the Hermit’s Cave — interesting but not well maintained. Back to Joe’s farm for his bus tour: four couples, an old Nissan bus, flat battery, still fun. They gifted us eggs, fruit, veggies, and a bottle of Joe’s red… let’s call it “characterful”.
Leeton Hipcamp — Cats, Dogs, Horses, Chaos
Next stop: a Hipcamp at an equestrian centre outside Leeton. The owner had 20 cats, 4 dogs, and horses. Facilities overpriced but the chaos was entertaining. Had to keep the camper door shut — one cat once snuck into a van and ended up in Griffith.
Quick drive to Narrandera for the skywalk over the weir — realised we’d been there on the Melbourne trip for Kirsty’s birthday. Small country? Nope. Massive. We just get around.
Whitton, Hay, Balranald — and the Final Nail in Lake Eyre
Headed to Hay via Whitton. Considered staying at the Whitton Malt House — very fancy — but expected winds made the open area risky. Coffee and brunch instead.
Drove through the approaching front — looked worse than it was, but the car got a free wash. Hay was peaceful, just a stopover before Balranald.
Balranald info centre was impressive… but the news wasn’t.
Mungo National Park closed. Roads too wet. Another front coming.
Danger Will Robinson. Those alarm bells weren’t bells anymore — they were sirens.
Park was beside the main road, trucks all night, so we bailed the next morning and headed south to Tooleybuc on the NSW border.
By now we’d officially given up on reaching Lake Eyre anytime soon. The west had shut its gates.
So… where next?
Shelly had never seen the Great Ocean Road. Neither of us had seen the Grampians. The west was a mud pit.
Should we?
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