6 September 2013 - Horsham Caravan Park, Horsham, Victoria

The day dawned no better than yesterday and steadily got worse. Our own washing remained in the same state as yesterday so was best left. I did note that one fellow camper had her portable washing machine out and was beavering away, doing her small loads of laundry in her own hygienic gadgetry. I have given much thought to the whole business of washing machines on the road, and in all fairness, I must state my own situation. We do not carry or have installed, the ever popular portable washing machine. More and more of the new caravans coming off the production line, come with a washing machine as part of the fittings. While our caravan was brand new when we bought it, it came without and is something I have never regretted. I prefer the extra storage, a bonus I am reminded of time and time again when I look through other modern caravans. But then I would say that, wouldn’t I?

But the interesting state of affairs in more and more caravan parks is the distaste and distrust park owners have for people carrying their own machines. When we were last in Katherine, the park in which we stayed charged a surcharge for use of one’s own machine, a park we stayed in recently forbade the use of on-board machines, and I suspect these kind of park rules and regulations are going to become more and more common.

As I observed my fellow camper this morning with her little machine, all of which only take a limited amount of laundry, I suspected she would be fussing about for hours and hours, instead of the twenty five minutes it would have taken had she used the big commercial camp machine, which incidentally here is only $2.40, lower than most. And with that, I will hop off my soapbox and resume my own business.

Forever the optimist, I was sure the weather must turn for the better and so prepared lunch and we set off, pausing in town to get some printing done and to pick up some electrical parts from Bunnings. Then we headed eastwards out of town toward the Mt Arapiles-Tooan State Park just beyond the township of Natimuk, a small rural town that would be in the throes of decay if it were not for its rebirth as a destination for climbers and artists. Mt Arapiles is widely regarded as the top rock climbing area in Australia and it was to that we were headed. However just a few kilometres out of Horsham it was obvious that visibility was terrible and there was little point in driving all the way out and to the top of the mountain if we were unlikely to see little but our own feet.

We decided instead to head a little north, to the Little Desert National Park, about thirty kilometres west of Horsham on the main route through to Adelaide, the Western Highway. We first arrived at Dimboola, yet another tired past-its-use-by date, surrounded in grain and sheep country; sheep and grain, a constant refrain, as we travel through this part of the country. The same travel bible referred to yesterday mentions that Dimboola has a few fine old heritage buildings, one the Victoria Hotel, a grand two storey structure with grapevines hanging from the verandahs. Doesn’t that sound lovely? Well it is absolutely not lovely, the roof partly collapsed and where windows once were, graffitti’d board. It is sadly an eyesore. Subsequent research advised that the hotel was gutted by a fire about ten years ago, and just this year, in July just gone, a judge in the Magistrates Court demanded that the building be demolished in the interests of public safety.

This town of just less than 2,000 folk promotes itself as the gateway to the Little Desert National Park. At Hopetoun we were directly and not very far from Victoria’s Big Desert and here we are directly and not very far from Victoria’s Little Desert.

There is little desert-like about this National Park, or at least the eastern corner we explored today. The park covers an area of 132,000 hectares and was established in the late 1960s. Today spring flowers were everywhere, the big old Red Gums lined the lovely Wimmera River always so grand and we were surrounded in a multitude of birdlife. It really was all so very pretty.

Beside the Wimmera River

Before lunch we wandered along part of the picnic area beside the river at Horseshoe Bend, startling ducks swimming on the peaceful waters. It was drizzling so we sat in the landcruiser to eat our lunch. We dallied, drinking our coffee while skimming the day’s newspaper, but still the train fell. In fact it was worse than when we had first arrived. Chris suggested we cover up and head out along one of the tracks. We took umbrellas as well as donning coats and hats, and once we were out in it, the rain didn’t seem to matter too much.

The track initially took us away from the river onto slightly higher ground, from which we were able to look west and see a great expanse of scrubby land, albeit on sandy soil, but not exposed as one imagines a desert to be. We walked on through an expansive forest of low banksias, many of them so old they had collapsed into piles of sticks. Hectares of yellow flowers, as bright as canola blooms, separated the shrubs. A single kangaroo darted away and then paused to see which way we were heading. We stood and watched him until he got sick of the staring game and continued on out into his desert. 

The path swept around back to the river down to the Ackle Bend campground, a charming spot. Beyond the campgrounds, both totally devoid of campers or even picnic takers, great areas of moss like growth covered the low lying wet banks and we kept to the marked tracks as directed. By the time we returned to the vehicle, we had been walking well over an hour and a half, and agreed that we had chosen well to firstly drive here to the park, and secondly to have stayed to walk rather than return home early.

Walking through the Little Desert National Park

As pulled out onto the highway again at Dimboola, we had to give way to a stream of traffic headed by eighty members of Australia’s largest outlaw motorcycle gang, the Rebels, heading through to Perth, their police escort of at least four marked cars and all those law abiding motorists driving along behind. It was quite a sight, I can tell you.

We still managed to arrive back at camp early enough for Chris to very cunningly make some modifications to our power points while I took over kitchen duties. The washing still looks as it did this morning however we have extended our stay for a couple more days so that we have reliable internet and television to watch the big Electoral Match tomorrow night. And I do believe that the clothes dryers in the camp laundry will prove useful.