Four months, dozens of detours, a handful of WT moments, and one very ugly Father’s Day fishing rod later — we finally pointed the nose of the Trailblazer toward Lake Eyre. Mission no. 2 was officially underway.
Before leaving Farina, we gave the car a good clean, ready for the dirt road ahead. That fishing rod — the 7‑foot monster I’d been gifted — had been annoying me for weeks. Couldn’t find a spot for it. But in the repack, I finally found the perfect home: strapped proudly to the expensive roof platform. Tick.
We rolled out the next morning toward Marree, the last stretch of bitumen before the Oodnadatta Track. Funny how you build an image in your head of what a place will look like — Marree didn’t match mine. Flies, flies, and more flies. A bakery, a pub, and a campground in a dusty paddock. OK then… Coward Springs was just down the road. Let’s keep going.
Onto the Track
The excitement kicked in immediately — we were finally on the Oodnadatta Track. But something felt off. Where was the dry, brown, dusty desert? Everything was still surprisingly green. Not complaining, just unexpected.
Track was good, but I’d forgotten to drop the tyres from 40 PSI, so it was a bit bumpy. Still buzzing along at 80 km/h, loving life, when suddenly something flew off the back of the car. Looked like a branch. Strange, considering there were no trees anywhere. Car felt fine, so we kept going. Fun first hour.
Before we got to Coward Springs we hit Lake Eyre South – doesn’t usually fill but we pulled over and had to have a look – we were a bit excited. I thought it was going to be salt but had water in it.
Coward Springs appeared like a little oasis — greenery, palms, and a sense of calm. We pulled in and met Scott and Barb, who are building something incredible out there: an eco‑focused wetlands project in the middle of the desert. Highly recommend a stop.
We took the avero down a 6 km offshoot to a bubbling spring. Scott had warned us it was “a bit bumpy.” BIT BUMPY? OMG. The Trailblazer nearly turned into a bucket of bolts. The corrugations were next‑level. Saw a sign telling us to stay on the defined track, but I’d already decided the side tracks would be my return route.
The bubbling brook itself was beautiful — a shallow, clear pool with bubbles rising like a stingray was buried underneath. Peaceful, important to First Nations people, and surrounded by a lovely walkway. On the way back, a 6‑foot taipan slithered out from under the boardwalk. We moved quickly.
Rain Incoming
Next day was the big one — Lake Eyre day — and grand final day for the NRL (Knights vs Roosters). Before leaving Coward Springs, one of those 4WD tourist buses rolled in, turning the quiet oasis into chaos. I chatted to the driver about conditions ahead. He was in a rush: rain was coming, and he needed to get his passengers to William Creek before it hit so they could fly out to Coober Pedy. Our flight was the next day, so we weren’t too worried.
An hour down the track, light drizzle started. Good — kept the dust down. I slowed by 10 km/h and enjoyed the drive. But approaching William Creek, we hit a floodplain where the road turned redder… and suddenly the tyres had no grip. Like driving on ice. WT. Slowed to 50, but the car and trailer slid everywhere. A solid 1–2 km of OMG.
Made it through, but I do not want to see that road after 20 mm of rain. No thanks.
Rolled into William Creek and caught up with the bus driver. Asked why he didn’t warn me. He said he was fishtailing up the last hill and only thinking about the next three hours to Coober. Fair enough. We checked into the caravan park for two nights.
It wasn’t until we were setting up the Ulti at William Creek that the flying “branch” finally made sense. No trees, no birds, no debris out there — just my BRAND NEW UGLY STICK fishing rod, which I had clearly not strapped down. I’d only placed it on the roof platform while ducking off to grab cable ties… then got distracted. Classic. The reel, hooks and sinkers survived, but the rod itself was now somewhere on the Oodnadatta Track. Had to laugh — sometimes I amaze myself with how stupid I can be.
William Creek Cattle Station — largest cattle station in the world by area — owns everything out there: pub, servo, caravan park. Friendly vibe, lots of tourists, and unfortunately Shelly was starting to get a cold.
Flight Day
Flight company said there was a chance of a 7 am departure due to cancellations, but no call came, so our 8 am flight was on. Slightly cool, overcast morning, but no wind — perfect flying weather. Shelly had a rough night but was still ready to rock.
The plane was an 8‑seater. I was hoping for co‑pilot, but that went to the heaviest passenger — and I’ve been losing weight lately, so no front seat for me. Shelly and I took row three.
The flight was magic. Smooth, calm, and Lake Eyre was breathtaking. Cloud reflections everywhere. The lake was still 90% full, including the south lake, though slowly receding. Most birds had left 2–3 weeks earlier as the fresh water turned salty and the fish died, but the sheer scale of water was incredible.
After an hour or so, one passenger asked when we were heading to the Painted Hills. The pilot said, “WT — are you one of those packages?” Quick turn, off we went. Our 2‑hour flight became 3 hours. Amazing.
Two downsides:
- My backside hated the 30‑year‑old flat seat
- Shelly’s sinus infection made altitude changes painful — she semi‑slept for 40 minutes
But even with that, we both rated the flight highly. Next time, we’d choose the package where they land at the Painted Hills on their private airstrip.
William Creek Farewell
Dinner at the pub the night before was OK but nothing special. We went in for avero drinks as a final goodbye. You can write your name on the wall if you donate to the RFDS — we did. See if you can find our message.
We needed a route home. Planned to go via Woomera, but locals said the road was dodgy, so we chose Coober Pedy instead — on our list anyway. Packed the Ulti next morning and headed off.
Mission Achieved
Our visit to Lake Eyre had finally happened. The lake itself didn’t disappoint — but the real magic was everything it took to get there. Four months of zig‑zags, weather fronts, closed roads, bubbling springs, random characters, and corrugations that could loosen dental work.
The destination was stunning. The journey was unforgettable.
And now, with a new grandchild arriving in Brisso in November… looks like the next adventure is already calling.
Watch this space.
And following is one of Shelly’s Zan Tangles from the period – enjoy.
Leave a Reply