Road.

It’s not all about iconic scenery. This is a road trip after all. And the un-sung hero of the Explorer’s Way is the Way itself. 

The road, or roads – as you do need to stray off the straight and narrow from time to time to see the must-sees – is/are a big part of the experience on a trip like this.

I mean, from Adelaide to Darwin clocks in at around the 3,000km mark if you do the Stuart Highway door to door. The Stuart is a good road in every sense. It’s bitumen all the way, which helps; and away from the cities (there are only three!) it’s pretty easy driving. You have to look out for wildlife. You have to look out for road-trains. And it pays to have sorted out your playlists on your iPhone ahead of the journey, as well as having someone to share the driving.

But like I say. You have to get off the bitumen to feel the benefit of doing a trip like this. Once you hit the unsealed roads, things … change.

The spaces really open up. The mileage goes up too. Fuel stops become heart-quickeningly important. The way-side road-house toilets become a game of roulette. The food on offer becomes strangely addictive … a mix of Mrs Mack’s Pies and chocolate, crisps, or the ubiquitous bacon and eggs. Bacon and eggs. Bacon and eggs. Australia’s roads run on bacon and eggs. And Vegemite. I’m not complaining. Don’t get me wrong. I do even like the odd chilli beef Mrs Mack’s Pie! I’m a Vegemite convert! A Vegemite evangelist! But I am glad that for every Mrs Mack’s Pie gobbled in a rest-stop, the universe provides some karma-like balance with a leisurely lunch in somewhere like the Daly Waters Pub. 

 But that’s the point; the road is unpredictable. It’s living in a constant state of flux. Of travelling. And for this writer, it’s nothing short of wonderful. 

You find yourself staring out at a shifting landscape, unsure of what you’re looking for, but taking it all in. Logging it. Stashing it. Caching it for those wet winter days on the commute at home. It’s a once in a lifetime trip I guess. 

You can drive for miles and miles and not see another soul. Then you see a tell-tale dust trail on the shimmering horizon, and a shape forms out of the mirage, almost extracting itself from the road as if the heat-haze offers it up. A ‘ute’, a 4x4, a road-train. Another human!

Most drivers out here in the wild spaces wave. It’s a simple palm raised in some comradeship of the road, or else a quick whip of a finger in a friendly salute. And it sounds silly to say so, but these waves, these moments become necessary. You miss them when a driver doesn’t wave back.

The roads cut through the yellow and red earth with an unrelenting purpose. The signage boggles the mind: 1145km to Darwin, said one just now. 

And the one-horse towns that dot the road become milestones of the trip: Quorn; Hawker; Parachilna; Leigh Creek; Lyndhurst; Maree; William Creek; Marla; Stuarts Well; Ti Tree; Barrow Creek; Wycliffe Well; Tennant Creek … and you find yourself smugly asking how anyone could live out here, in all this nothingness? How do they survive? How do these people get here? How come the Maree mini-mart is staffed by three Chinese girls? How does a backpacker from Romford end up pumping gas at a road-house in the middle of nowhere for nine months?  

Truth is, ... why not? 

It’s easy to think that Life is Elsewhere, .. that there has to be some destination which is always at the end of the journey ... but why can’t life be at the Lyndhurst Gas Station as well? Why can’t life be on-the-way, rather than at the end of it? Could be quite nice actually. Beats squashing on to the Tube I suspect.

But yes. The road, as the old song goes, is long, with many a winding turn (...actually, not too many a winding turn, more the odd lean to the left or right). All the wind turbines; unexpected views; cattle-grids; and yes, I’m afraid, let’s not pretend .. the road-kill and car-wrecks; the famous gold and black kangaroo signs; the macho road-trains; the Mrs Mack’s Pies; the William Creeks, or Prairie Hotels, or pubs like the Daly Waters; the people you meet along the way; the joy of a wave from a total stranger passing in the opposite direction; the endless horizons; the empty skies; the sheer wonder of this road-trip… it’s all part of doing it. Of experiencing the best 3,000km+ drive of my life... I shall quite miss it when it’s over.