Outback Wanderers: Day 20: Lake Eyre

December 4, 2010

The thing is, when I’m in the desolate outback, I love it. I don’t complain about the hardships, the dust, heat, the difficulty of it all. It’s only when I come back to comfort – like the relative comfort of camping in a groomed caravan park as we did in Alice Springs – that I get weary. Seduced by comfort and easy living, it’s hard to imagine why we put ourselves through it – and I resist going back.

But when I’m back, it’s really OK. And I’m glad to be back. We camp midway between Coober Pedy and Williams Creek. There are a few scraggly trees about, but thunder clouds in the north and west long ago blocked out the sun. The night is warm, windy and the night sky dense with stars. I point my binoculars at a bright star straight overhead. I think it’s a planet because through the binocs I can see a plane of tiny moons sitting next to the star, three on the right, one of the left. Johan thinks it’s Jupiter. We’ll have to wait till we have internet access again to verify our viewing.

Williams Creek has a hotel, a public toilet, a camping ground and a makeshift airport. For $235pp you can get a birds-eye view of Lake Eyre – the only way to see the Lake says the ad at the depot. The young chap in the hotel comes from Manchester and has been in Australia seven months. He loves it, despite the fact that it’s the middle of nowhere and in the off-season (now) there are only three residents in town. Both he and the lady at the air tours office think we can make it OK out the 60km 4WD track to see the lake. It rained a while ago, and there is water on parts of the track, but we should be able to get around them. Rain is due again on Tuesday; we have three days to go exploring before we need to be back on bitumen. Even the road here from Coober Pedy could be treacherous if heavy rains come.

Four-wheel driving in an all-wheel drive vehicle is challenging, adventurous, and some would say crazy. But we got our Subaru through the 170km Holland track in W.A. last autumn and had great fun navigating the various road hazards along the way. As long as it’s dry, an AWD can do pretty much what a 4WD can do. But it doesn’t score a chance if you get bogged.

The road out to Lake Eyre provides similar challenges to the Holland track. Side tracks diverge off sections that are wet, muddy or too heavily rutted. The only difference is this is a pretty isolated road – in our two-hour, 60km trek to the lake, we don’t meet anyone. This kind of thing pushes Johan to the brink of his comfort zone, but he agrees to try it until we can’t go any further.

Luckily, we make it to the end, Halligan Bay. Our first site of Lake Eyre as we rise over a dune is breath-taking. Geologists call the 12,000 square kilometer lake an inland sea because it lies 15 metres below sea level and there are no outlets from the lake. Five major rivers drain into the basin, catching water from 1.27 million square kilometers of land to the north and west – one-sixth of Australia. Because of the arid climate, most of that water dries up before it reaches Lake Eyre, but if there are two consecutive years of heavy rain, the lake begins to fill. It was last full during the floods of 1975. With the persistent floods in Queensland the past year, the lake is once again filling. Migratory birds flock to the area, plants and sea life are reborn, the seemingly dead environment springs to life.

We’re told in Williams Creek that the lake is still 65% full but the bird activity has peaked and there’s unlikely to be any spectacular viewing, at least from ground level.

When we get to the shoreline, all the eye can see is a vast plain of salt flats. Through the binoculars it appears there is water maybe a kilometer out from shore. There is a pool of blue water in a small bay near where we park the car, so we trudge across the salt flats to investigate. The crystal white flats are like ice, and as we get closer to the boggy edges of the water, they creak and crack, like a frozen lake threatening to break. Johan breaks the crust and pulls up a handful of sepia-coloured mud. It has a surprisingly sweet, fruity smell.

The water leaves a thin veil of white on my feet and legs from wading in the shallow pool and everything we touch with our wet hands turns white. The thick blanket of clouds and a persistent wind make the walk bearable on a 40˚ day.