Instead the tables were eventually turned, and a couple of years ago I took my parents to ride the rails and enjoy the fabulous steam trains of the Pichi Richi Railway.
But somehow, my parents’ holiday plans never took us to Quorn. I had cousins who lived nearby that gloated about their rides, and school mates regaling me with tales from their family holidays.
But, in my bedraggled nomadic state, I don’t even think even they’d be interested.Ever since I was a kid I had heard about the Pichi Richi Railway. However, I became a little nervy when the path jumped a fence stating that there were arousable bull camels on the premises.
PICHI RICHI PLUS
Other than the customary hiking-induced aches, plus my feet taking off before my brain realised I’d left my hiking poles a kilometre back up the track, the day’s walk was straightforward. As a part of the Great Northern Railway, the connection intended to link Port Augusta with Darwin. The railway from Port Augusta through the Pichi Richi Pass to Quorn opened in 1879. Unfortunately, I couldn’t sit and enjoy the scenery all day I still had 20 kilometres, including a stretch following South Australia’s famous Pichi Richi Railway, to complete before dusk. The region’s endemic Quorn Wattles twinkled, foraging kangaroo nibbled on their breakfast and the bright sky, which eluded me for much of Day 11, mirrored my modified mood-this was more like it. I spent the morning seeing conservation park through fresh eyes. He had just arrived home after he, too, had spent several days in the wilderness, although he appeared infinitely fresher compared to my dishevelled state.Īfter describing my miserable mornings’ events, he suggested driving me back to The Dutchmans Stern Conservation Park to enjoy the experience that had otherwise eluded me-what a man! This generous offer would save me several hours of gruelling backtracking. The last thing I expected to see was his smiling face popping out of a car window as I trudged toward civilisation (and my first shower) for the first time in five days. Two months earlier, via an email stream seeking assistance along the trail, Norm had kindly offered his logistical expertise when I arrived in the Quorn region. While I walked along the final stretch of uninspiring bitumenised road into Quorn on Day 11, pondering the misery that had befallen me, a waving hand appeared from a parked 4WD in the distance-this warm greeting came from a man named Norm, owner of Pindan Tours and 4WD Training. Through the deepest darkest hours, positive lights tend to shine in the most unexpected places. The Dutchmans Stern Conservation Park is far too picturesque an experience to leave it as I did. But, not before revisiting the scene of yesterday’s deflating journey. Fortunately, following a rejuvenating night’s sleep at Quorn’s iconic Austral Inn, my head had cleared and my hiking legs were eager to kick on with the trail on Day 12. It was the inevitable lull that had to come.
Heavenly help from a true blue Trail Angel.Īfter almost two weeks of riding adrenaline-packed highs transversing majestic, yet exhausting, terrain, my enthusiasm had finally slumped.
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