A feast for Outback Gourmets - Marie Coleman Canberra Sunday Times July 30th. 2000

Part One
There were record-breaking floods in the outback in the first half of this year.
Some of the heaviest rains on record have led to the presence of water in Lake Eyre South, and the flooding of the Goyder Lagoon, south of Birdsville.
True, there are flocks of birds by the millions in the arid Lake Eyre Basin. But if you go to Lake Eyre, North or South, unless you are accompanying a TV cameraman and reporter, you won't see them. Nor can you see the pelicans breeding out on the islands if you fly over - planes are forbidden below 3000m. Only the TV gets out to the breeding ground.
What you can see is vast spreads of white, crusted salt. (not always a good idea to walk there -the mud underneath is very, very dark and smelly), and a wide border of washed-up dead locusts.
And, of course, the salt bush, and the amazing salt-encrusted desert flowers.
Not a lot of small birds -but there are tracks in the sand -lizards, small hopping creatures. In the distance, briefly glimpsed, brolgas dancing. But there is much more to see if you take the trouble to go further afield.
I travelled recently in a party of20 in five four- wheel-drive vehicles around Lake Eyre South, then to the Goyder Lagoon, then down to the mouth of the Cooper. Our tour's scientific leader was botanist Dr Kevin Thiele. The physical tour was managed by Andrew Dwyer, of Diamantina tours (www.diamantina-tour.com.au).
He was assisted by John Deckert, of Westprint Heritage Maps Nhill (www.westprint.com.au) an outback heritage historian and map maker; Alan Conquer an all-round useful chap, from Nhill; Steve Baird of Mt Beauty (Bogong Horseback Adventures, 03 5743 4849, which he runs in the summer time); and Ian Bolwell of Mansfield, general rural contractor and former forester. Those chaps could handle anything that comes their way -including the tourists. Andrew advertises in Gourmet Traveller -and the catering proved his worth. Imagine. You've made camp alongside Lake Eyre South, near Screech Owl Creek. The fires are going, the evening lit by fluorescent lights run from car batteries, the canvas stools set out along the long trestle tables, wine glasses, cutlery napkins set out (you might have to hold them down in the wind.) The entree is an antipasto including smoked salmon, arti- choke hearts, olives, dried toma- toes in oil. The grissini sit in terrra cotta pots. There is freshly made tomato and basil sauce with a gleaming pasta, a very reasonable South Australian red, and the strains of Nessun Dorma sung by the fat tenor float out across the scene. Next morning is the interpretative sessions, and walks.
The Lake Eyre Basin covers 1.14 million square kilometres of Central Australia -roughly one sixth of the continent. Lake Eyre itself (two discreet lakes really) sits about I5m below sea level. There is a substantial group of lakes, some large, some small, mostly ephemeral, all salt, fed by rivers draining down from Queensland.
The major rivers, and the best known, are the Cooper, the Georgina and the Diamantina. Roughly underneath the
Basin lies the Great Artesian Basin, a vast belt of water, some of it emerging from the ground at temperatures around boiling point
Some of the waters in the Basin, coming from as far afield as Papua New Guinea, emerge as potable water through mound springs -flowing fresh waters that see the light for the first time in 2 million years The mounds, form an arc from Lake Callabonna through Maree toward Oodnadatta The largest springs are about 70km north of Oodnadatta, at Dalhousie Springs
Before the Europeans came pushing out with stock and eventually crossed the continent south to north, there was an ancient Aboriginal trading route coming across the continent along the dusty inland river routes, through the (now) Maree area, and further south, watered from the mound springs We visited a mound spring, saw the water, and saw the ancient Aboriginal grinding stone and flints The site is on land owned by Western Mining, which carefully protects it from uninvited visitors, as well as
maintaining a check on artesian water flow rates. It was the need for fresh meat in Port Darwin which encouraged the South Australian Government in the 1880s to sink a row of bores up through the range lands north from the Flinders Rangers to the Tirari and Sturt's Stony Deserts. The first railway line, the Old Ghan, ran along the line of springs, so that the steam trains could take on water, all the way to the standing water at Alice Springs. It was the introduction of diesel which led to a changed route, and the collapse of the Maree economy, built as it was on rail, following on the camel trains that rail itself superseded.
We visit Maree (a shower at the Oasis Caravan Park after several days camping is pure heaven) and make a trip to the old cemetery -in different comers of a bleak paddock are reminders of long dead railway workers and their children, the local Aboriginal families, and the Afghan families -who really came from Beluchistan - brought out by Elder of Elder Smith to man the camels who carried the first stores across the desert routes to Birdsville. In 1911 there were 1500 camels working out of Maree. Many grave sites are marked by old railway sleeper head- stones.
Some bored lovers have used old sleepers to mark out their beloved's names on the side of the old railway embankment. The old railway stock stands rusting by the railway station. Whites once lived one side, Afghans and Aborigines on the other side of the track. Separated just as in the cemetery.
Now the town relies on tourists, those travelling the Birdsville Track, the ones coming to see the flooded lakes, the ones who've heard of Maree Man -a recent plough job out across some Aboriginal land which no-one will own up to creating.
Then, we track north to Goyder Lagoon, Sturt's Stony Desert, and the mouth of the Cooper. But that's another story.

Part Two
solar panel on top. The rusted remains of the original mail truck stand out the front. There is a warm artesian bore to swim in for those so inclined, showers for others. And, of course, a bit of quick bird watching to be snatched. We keep pushing north towards the Queensland border, with the light drawing in. The roadworks have our drivers confused.
Sunset over the gibber pIains is absolutely spectacular, with pinkish curtains of light in the eastern sky and, as well, a desert borealis.
Eventually we locate a track oft east, and we drive for another 20 minutes in complete darkness. We
are headed, we learn, for Kuncherra Sand Dune, which runs all the way across to the Simpson Desert. It is a finger at this end dipping in to Goyder Lagoon, which has a permanent waterhole at one end
-the Kuncherra Water Hole. The Diamantina flows into Goyders Lagoon, which floods and fills completely about once in seven years. Otherwise, this is a sun mud-caked depression filled with native lignum, a malevolent spiny bush that can be death to vehicle tyres. Then, of course, it does have snakes. I hate snakes. "You'd have to be lucky to see a sand python at this time of year", says a guide. Lucky?
We send out a party in the dark to find firewood, we pitch tents dark -lit by the glow from the kitchen fluoros and hand torches. Given the circumstances, tonight's dinner is major achievement -just cooking would be something.
Next morning we hear bird calls. We walk out to the edge of the lagoon and turn to see the early-rising watchers sliding down the dune with cries of astonishment at the bird and plant life. Up on top of the dune we studied a geological map of AustraIia to learn about the deserts, and the pattern of desert dunes unique to Australia. Tour leaders Andrew Dwyer and Kevin Thiele sift red sand onto the blue of the map to mimic the dunes and blow heartily on it to mimic the anti-clockwise prevailing wind. Later we climb the dune (which is high, and like Gaul, is in more than one part). After lunch we set out to reach the end of the dune, some on foot, some by Landcruiser. Mine bogs dramatically, so there is a lot of shouting and cursing and winching. Tour scientist Kevin Thiele rounds us up in military style - we must creep to the summit so as to not disturb the water birds below.
This is spectacular, even for a non- practising bird-watcher like me. I hear a cry from someone, "I can see 13 Nankeen Night Kestrels in one tree alone!" There are black swans with cygnets. There are pelicans swimming majestically. Kites. Ducks. The sky is black with wheeling flocks. The sound of water birds taking off is amazing. Dinner that night was marinated globe artichokes stuffed with finely- shaved parmesan and olives, grilled over the open fire, followed by roIled pot-roasted shoulders of Iamb cooked in camp-ovens, and accompanied by roasted potatoes, caramelised onions and parsnips. The red wine was more than acceptable. We struck camp very early next morning for the really big adventure. We are to try to get into the mouth of the Cooper, to the point where it enters Lake Eyre north. Travelling south, we pull off into the Cooper Overflow for lunch, There we collect supplies of dead wood to take with us into the Tirari Desert for the fires for the next few days. We go in through Etadunna Station -3000 sq ,km of desert land, about a third of it able to sustain grazing ( out to where the bore water reaches). We pass the line of the last bore, pushing along the lengths of the dunes, along shot lines originally cleared for minerals exploration 15 years ago, but not recently traversed. There is a small herd of wild horses, which parallels us for a while. Two camels look haughty on the skyline as we bump and bounce our way into a camp spot, near a salt-water hole on the Cooper bed, some 40km from its mouth. Our leader explains after dinner (another memorable meal) that tomorrow will be rough, and if anyone feels they can't handle it, then one of the drivers will stay behind in camp. He has been once before, and it will be four hours driving to get in, an hour or so there, and four hours back. No-one squibs. Andrew did not exaggerate -it was rough, damn rough as we went in through the increasingly barren country. He was constantly checking the GPS map references on the laptop- based maps on the seat beside him. Each vehicle also has a satellite phone in case of problems and there is regular inter-vehicle checking on CB radio. Finally we arrive. The Cooper is not, repeat not flowing. There is a great vista of salt covered flats. In 1983 the Port Pirie 4X4 club made it here, and set up a sealed box on a pole, with a visitors book.
We investigate, Since '83 the Port Pirie mob have come back and added a plaque, someone else has canoed in (must have been more water that time). I add my signature -2Oth or there- abouts. Then, after more long walks, we entrain again for the campsite.
The night is brilliant with stars, and after dining on some superior bangers and mash, Andrew brings out his guitar, and we sit around the camp fire.
There's The Dusty Diamantina. Then, Clancy of the Overflow. ..remember him? Out on the Cooper Overflow, "he has seen the vision splen- did of the sunlit plains extended, and at night the wondrous beauty of the everlasting stars..."
This country is indeed awe-full, it fills one with awe. It also makes one appreciate that this is country to be respected.
Without the satellite phones, and the GPS and computer-based maps, and without adequate water, or travelling with others able to winch us out of a tight pinch, it would be easy to die out here.
Imagine even if the Royal Flying Doctor could be raised at Port Augusta -there's nowhere here to land a plane -to attempt it on the salt would see it bogged.
Then, next day, we head pell mell for the Flinders Rangers, down through Marree (again) without stopping, past the unbelievably appalling tailings dumps from the coal fields at Leigh Creek ( don't believe stories of vegetation restoration) and on to shower at Copley.
Refresh on the local bakery speciality of quandong tarts -we decide not to buy a bottle of quandong sauce.
Onwards, ever onwards, and we finally reach the Parachilna Gorge in time to make camp, and catch the colours of the setting sun.
Final night's dinner? Pasta tossed in garlic, oil, and brush coriander, accompanied by pot- roasted root artichoke, itself seasoned with garlic, oil, and mixed herbs, preceded by another antipasto.
It will be a big drive to reach Adelaide in time for the flight out, and a following wind could be helpful.