This is the story of an excellent trip away.

Murphy totally failed with the weather for the whole ten days of the trip; with clear skies and mid to high twenties each day and remarkably balmy evenings – and this was at a time that included three public holidays including ANZAC Day!! Also despite the expedition title and his reputation, trip leader Gerry did not once get lost.

There was only one downer for the whole event and that was the fact that Denise and Stuart were unable to join us with Denise laid up in hospital having tests following a pulmonary embolism– anyway they would not let her out. This was a great shame; but perhaps it was fortunate for Denise it did not happen on the trip.

As a result the convoy position of Fukarwee 7 remained vacant. With Dean driving in the number 8 position, using the video camera, Roger-roger-ing on the UHF and reading up the historical background to the trip to keep us all informed, all at the same time, it may have been dangerous if the position had not been vacant.

Trip Leader Gerry and Bev, Dean, Gary 1 (Wright), Alvin and Kath, Gill and I assembled near the Caltex Service Station at Bolivar at 9.00 am – the appointed time. Many took advantage of the free tea and coffee offered by the Service Station awaiting the grand entry of Lorraine. That entry did not eventuate. Instead there was a mobile phone call to Gerry indicating she was travelling with her dogs in the other direction but would catch up. So we set off north for Port Augusta.

Cruising pleasantly with nothing more eventful than a slight traffic jam south of Port Wakefield we arrived at Port Augusta to refuel our vehicles and ourselves. Here we were very soon joined by a low flying Pajero. On the way out of Port Augusta our convoy was greeted by "bears" in the air and on the ground as the South Australian Constabulary prepared to prevent demonstrators camping near the Baxter Detention Centre.

On to Lake Gillies where we were guided in by radio control courtesy of Graeme to a magnificent lake side camp site. Graeme and Jock and Greg and Leonie were already established. There we were joined by Frank and Lynne and later by Kym. One day down, one participant to go.

Another comfortable and uneventful drive on the black stuff to Streaky Bay for lunch on the foreshore where we were joined by the last member of the convoy, Gary 2 (Hallam) and his father Jack.

Camp for that night was at Laura Bay which at first seemed like camping in a car park but turned out to be OK once we had got a camp fire going. Dean gave us his solution to giving up smoking. He put half a packet in his glove box until he was sure he didn’t need it. He tried doing the same to give up beer but always worried it might get warm and flat if he didn’t drink it - so that had not worked.

Jock became increasingly voluble around the camp fire and is rumoured to have succumbed to the symptoms of alcohol poisoning in more ways than one by the end of the night.

The morning started with an onslaught of bunnies delivering Easter eggs. Some quite secretive and others less so. (It would be hard to keep Dean with a set of bunny ears secret).

Then we were off to see the sights of Laura Bay hidden from our campsite. We drove down to see some magnificent views of the Bay with abundant wild life visible from the cliffs in the sea below; a pod of dolphins, millions of small fish glinting in the sun and a school of larger fish.

After visiting another Bay within the Conservation Park, we followed the instructions of a local resident (who seemed less than enthusiastic to have visitors) to get back to the road to Ceduna the way we had come in. Once again we were on the road to Ceduna, for fuel and late morning tea by the sea. The local Constabulary set up an RBT specially for us on the way out but naturally they found no positive readings.

The end of seascapes and black stuff for a while and we started on to the Goog’s Track. Appropriately for Easter Sunday the initiator of the track had got his nickname because of his fascination with eggs as a child. Sand flags on, tyre pressures down, hubs locked, change to channel 18 on the UHF. Only one hitch; I found I had two tyre gauges – one that I could read that decided to pack up and one that worked which I could not read. Reading glasses solved the problem after causing only a minor hold up.

We were met by the Ranger not far down the track, who checked registrations and passes. All was well.

Stopped at the Rock Hole for a late lunch. Most had little appetite – chocolate to blame? Arrived at Goog’s Lake after a short stop at the memorial to Goog and his son, in good time to set up camp. What an excellent view from the camp site across the Lake. The fact that it really was a near perfect camp site was endorsed by 4 million bush flies and half a million March flies. However they finally went to bed by 6.30 and the few mosquitos that replaced them were relatively little trouble (at least to me).

It had been planned to have the roast but our later than expected arrival caused this to be deferred for a day.

A great night round the camp fire was finished of by a moonlit walk on the Lake.

Since we were staying two nights at Goog’s Lake there was no need to pack up the tent etc. We had permission to visit the Childara Rock Hole and Tanks and all decided to go for the ride.

The Ranger had said that the road was OK but quite corrugated. She was quite correct! We did the equivalent of about a four hour stint on a jack hammer – not the worst I’ve seen but memorable nonetheless.

On the way we stopped to view the Lake from a higher vantage point and then again near Nalara Rock and on through the Dog Fence to the Childara Tanks. Time for a bit of a walk but not for too long – we had roasts to cook. On the way back we found the turn off to Nalara Rock and stopped there for Lunch. More opportunity to stretch our legs and take in the panorama from the rock.

A search for a track to another rocky outcrop on the map was abandoned in favour of meeting the time constraints of the roast cooks.

My Nissan maintained its tradition of acknowledging severe corrugations by starting the windscreen wipers. Alvin had a slightly more disconcerting corrugation gauge; his rear door kept coming partly open. Somehow on the way my outside mirror on the driver’s side cracked. It was hard to understand how when it spent most of the time flat against the side of the vehicle from getting too close to bushes.

That night was roast night and Gill and I are indebted to Kym who offered to share his silverside roast. It was magnificent and both the meat and vegies were cooked to perfection. All the right wines were served with the roasts, the most spectacular being a Bleasdale dry red served by Jack from a 2 gallon plastic Jerry can.

Started the day with a red face after Greg returned my car keys he had found by the camp fire. I committed to not making any rude comments in the trip report about K-9.

Tuesday was the first of a couple of days of lots of sand dunes. Some were even a challenge but more often because others going before us had dug some fair sized holes on the approach making forward momentum a tad more difficult. A couple of second goes (no names) but no need for snatching.

Frank saw a snake. He is quoted as saying it was 4 or 5 feet long and black (the snake that is).

Passed a Troopie going the other way. They had been all over Central and half of Western Australia during the previous couple of months and were on their way back to Victoria through the Gawler Ranges.

Arrived at Mount Finke to camp for the night. Gill and Gary 1 climbed to the top. I climbed about one third of the way beyond where it was possible to drive and Kym got some rock driving training in. Mount Finke is a very significant land mark and even from where I got to, provides a good view of the Track and its surrounding bush.

We were just getting going when the convoy was stopped at a strange big green road sign. It had arrows in all directions and referred to the expedition name. Naturally we all had to have our photos taken by the sign before we could resume away down the windy track to the main Goog’s Track. Then it was across a salt lake and back into some more nice soft dunes before getting to the Dog Fence. We went through and followed it for some way. No more dunes but some respectable wash-outs to negotiate or avoid using the chicken runs around the worst of them.

We had made it the length of the Track. Time to put up our tyre pressures, pack up sand flags and change back to Channel 15 then off across the Transcontinental railway line and on to the main drag for Tarcoola. Although this was a dirt road it had obviously been recently graded and was as good as the black stuff, the convoy keeping pace with a huge freight train.

Stopped in Tarcoola to regroup. It had changed a bit since I stayed in the pub during floods twelve years ago. It had a stretch of bitumen road but no sign of anyone living there any more. Kingoonya, was the next stop, next to the three toilets – presumably ladies, gents and unsure. There was a sign to the caravan park but that had not survived much after we had stayed there on our way to Alice in 1979. Fox’s Garage also had long since stopped doing business.

A few more kilometres of road, crossing back and forth across the railway line with a train that slowed the leaders down and we were back on the kilometre of Stuart Highway to Glendambo. Purchased fuel, pies and other luxuries (our late arrival en masse stressed the available resources to their limit and nearly gave the poor guy serving a nervous breakdown) and had a late lunch.

Then, back to Kingoonya and on to the Kokatha Road south. Finding a good camp site was starting to look like an impossible dream with low salt bush everywhere when suddenly the leader radioed that there were some trees ahead that might be OK. It proved to be a great camp site (and from observation the next day, about the only one in reasonable driving distance). For the record and for future trip leaders, I took its coordinates on the GPS as:

S 31°06.552; E 135°21.263

A short walk up the road for exercise for Gill and I then back for drinks and dinner around the camp fire.

A leisurely drive well separated to minimise the dust on a reasonable road past Lake Everard, turning off at the Skull Tanks and stopping there for a breather. Next stop the turn off to the Lake Gairdner Conservation Park, very much one at a time with the dust.

Camped overlooking the Lake. The Lake had been fenced off either to stop driving on it or to keep the feral pigs at bay. Climbed the marked walking track behind the camp to get a great view of the lake which makes it clear just how large the lake is. Then walked across to the other side and climbed the hill on that side making a cairn at the highest point.

After wining and dining in the evening round another great camp fire we walked out on to the lake. With the white all around on the ground the stars in the moonless sky were absolutely magnificent. This was a really memorable sight that one could never get near the city.

Gill and I had a commitment all day on Sunday and with work Monday, needed some time to unpack and clean up so we decided to take our leave and find our own way home. This we did with no dramas (and no rear indicators and only one stop light. Their connections had become severed somewhere on the track).

The rest of the group stayed all day at Lake Gairdner and left on Saturday most going straight home but a couple staying over night at Mambray Creek on the Saturday night. My spies left behind, informed me that a group walked over the 5 or so kilometres to an island in the lake and back during the day and/or generally relaxed.

I have heard of nothing unfortunate, embarrassing or disastrous on the rest of the trip and am sure everyone thoroughly enjoyed it.

Thank you Gerry – a great trip.