Barrington Tops - Carol Gano

Trip to Barrington Tops

13 March 2023- 25 minutes writing blitz

Following the MOST disastrous Valentine’s Day I ever had, worse than being all alone.

-        We had dinner, went walking, was verbally abused again;

-        Tried to change the ambiance between us by walking away;

-        Was driven hone. No kiss, no goodbye, no sense of the special day to share together and none of your love.

So, into my home I went. Very sad about the truth of any love between us. I went to Barrington Tops camping by myself.

 Drove up once I’d printed out the route, but as the sun set and I was lost, internet lost, no WIFI, no driver’s assistance. I went into a home, was given a drink of lemonade, provided instructions as to where to eat dinner and stay overnight before continuing, as it would take hours to get there yet!

I setup my tent as the sun was setting, after eating a meal at the Pub. The main road was close, but only limited traffic until the morning, I was assured. I pitched my tent close to the loo block as the proprietor suggested. Light came on when anyone cared to use the facilities all night long. I repositioned myself in my sleeping bag so as not to be repeatedly awoken.

Pre-dawn I awoke anyway, as drivers started back on the road. I fed, watered and packed up for the rest of the trip. Off I went!

Very quickly the road become a dirt road, then further reduced to needing branches due to puddles and no depth perception possible. My new little VENUE had never been off-road. It is not 4WD and it was not managing so easily.

At one point the incline was so steep I feared the car would roll backwards, leaving me caught upside down.

But, it didn’t, so I kept driving. I came to the Dingo Gate which I had been told to expect. Another car was going through, the only other car I ever saw. I asked the male driver if I was going the right way to the Tops and he confirmed it. It seemed he might say something else to me, but damn if he didn’t! In my experience I’ve come to expect my accent prejudices and inhibits responses others might easily share with me if I sounded like an Aussie,  I’m foreign to the ears.

Through the gate I bounded, then latched it and down the hill. Immediately, a fork in the track. I still had not internet, not street signs, no idea.

I choose to go straight and it was dangerous driving. Every time an exposed puddle appeared in my path I’d take my mini-saw out and fill it with branches or would steer to try and keep my wheels over the highest zones of the world.

Then my nightmare happened. The puddle was too deep, the centrally formed island bottomed out the car. I was bogged. I spent two hours:

               -shifting nearby sand

               -cutting branches

               -attempting to “sand” driving function

               -going forward and back

               -building up the traction under the one tyre that was merely spinning and flicking mud clots about.

Finally I accepted I needed help. Not a soul had driven by in 3 hours. I packed my bag with water, food, took the coordinates when the car was stuck, left a note in the windscreen, locked the car and tramped off forward.

I walked an hour, periodically checking for a phone connection, trying to call the Police, AAMI, the car roadside assistance by Hyundai. I couldn’t have a long enough police conversation once I did connect and frustrated, the police kept hanging up as my phone wavered in and out of reception as we spoke.

Fear flitted into my being as I just didn’t know which side of the Dingo Fence I was on. On foot, was I in exceptional danger, or much less due to the fence? I prayed, if I get out of this jam I’m in I’m going to let him decided if our relationship is over or still on.

I’d taken three turn and them out my bit of navigation instructions from home. After an hour I came upon Parks service people levelling a cross road. Their machinery was so terribly loud, they didn’t hear me yelling for help. I waved my arms and they waved back, disappearing. Not a chance, they went down the road much faster than I could run.

I tried the Police again. They kept asking me the same questions for 15 minutes. Finally, after what seemed overkill, I was told they’d send the first available car.

I headed over to the shade, out of the blistering sun, ate my tinned pineapple, drank ½ the water, had some cheese and nuts. About 30 minutes later MORE parks people arrived, spoke to me and they realised that I was not just waiting for a ride out.

They, ultimately six men and three trucks, followed my instructions to where my car was and dragged my little car out of the bog with no damage to the oil pan. Amazing. They drove my car the remainder of the way to the short cut I missed (unmarked on the terrain), told me not to camp alone and followed me out to the bitumen, tarmac and civilisation. 

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