To find a vehicle test use the pull-down lists below.
Downloadable Destination Guides..
You asked for it, so here it is: access to the first 12 months of all our popular Australian getaway...
On location, hunting for dinosaurs! While waiting for a massive Sauropod to wander across the barren...
Destinations > Loop the Loop
Loop the Loop
Issue: August 2007
Words and photos Gary Monahan
Most 4WD travellers who reach the remote Mount Dare Hotel in the far north of South Australia have the Simpson Desert on their mind. They are either savouring the memories of their completed desert crossing or contemplating the journey ahead, across the sea of red dunes to the east. But very few are aware of the land to the west of Mount Dare that is full of gibber plains, tree lined creeks and stunning waterholes.
This region is alive with the Outback history of explorers, bullockies, pastoralists, the Overland Telegraph Line and the old Ghan railway. And, in a bizarre twist, there's even a brush with the poet Lord Byron.
You can explore this country on a series of tracks we have christened the Mount Dare Loop. What makes this journey appealing is that you can choose your own pace - it is possible to do the loop in a long day or take a couple of days and really soak up the history at your feet. And you can join or leave the loop at any point.
If you want to follow these notes that follow the loop clockwise, then take the track south from the Mount Dare Hotel towards Dalhousie Springs. After 33 kilometres, turn right at the intersection that is signposted to Federal, an early Outback homestead. After crossing some small dunes and claypans, the track winds along a heavily treed creek.
At just over five kilometres from the intersection, and past the Federal Waterhole sign, look on the right for a tall post with a pulley placed strategically on top, some metres off the track. A large Coolabah that stands nearby guards the homestead site. If you see the old horse yards, do a u-turn because you have gone too far.
While there is nothing left standing of Federal, the red sand at your feet presents an enormous mosaic created by rows upon rows of partially buried, upside down old beer bottles. By using your imagination, it's easy to examine the rows of bottles and work out the outline of the old homestead and all the surrounding extensive garden beds. But if your imagination isn't up to scratch, let R. B. Plowman, who wrote The Man from Oodnadatta, describe the scene for you: "...a small cottage homestead literally embowered in creepers, trees and shrubs. A wealth of flowers, grape and cucumber vines, useful and ornamental creepers, extensive lawns, vegetables in profusion, and fruit- trees of many kinds, throve and made a wonderful scene."
No wonder Federal was described as 'the talk of Central Australia'.
Back on the track, and after passing Hughes Waterhole, you enter an open
plain covered with gibbers and low shrubs. It is in this barren landscape that you will come across Bloods Creek. It may be in ruins now, but again try to imagine Bloods Creek in its heyday. Located on the Overland Telegraph Line, the grog shop and store here must have boomed at times with all sorts of colourful characters moving along the only track to the Centre.
Their legacy is strewn everywhere with bits of packhorse gear resting beside old automotive parts, broken crockery, tins and bottles.
Horseshoes and bullocky cues tell of the early travellers to the Centre while a lonely grave with an iron frame, and a small yet dignified memorial to Indulkatu, an Aboriginal woman whose remains lie in the area, tell of the hardships.
In 1913 Captain Samuel White of the Central Australian Scientific Expedition visited here and thought that the couple of galvanized-iron sheds that comprised Bloods Creek were "a perfect nightmare... in a sunbaked, dry-sucked wilderness".
If he had seen the bottle dump he would have realised it wasn't so dry out here! Nevertheless, based on Captain White's description, it's not surprising that Bloods Creek was eventually abandoned.
It would take a man of courage and strength to take over the lease and such a man was Ted Colson. He and aboriginal Peter Ains put the settlement back on the map in 1936 when they set out on camels from Bloods Creek and were the first men to cross the Simpson Desert to Birdsville. They then repeated their feat by returning across the desert.
But progress waits for no man regardless of his capabilities and the extension of the Ghan to Alice Springs meant the end for Bloods Creek. It is thought that Ted Colson was the last person to live at Bloods Creek before it was again left to the elements.
Back on the Loop, after passing the large windmill located on the creek from which Bloods Creek got its name, you come to an intersection. If time is a bit tight then swing left towards Eringa on a maintained track but if time is on your side, an alternative is to turn right towards Mount Dare. Then a few hundred metres along, turn left onto a narrow track where a scratchy sign feebly declares "Abminga 31". Although this track is not maintained, it is not difficult. It can be slow in places, especially where there have been washouts or around the small rocky ledges which will reduce the speed of your 4WD to walking pace. For such a harsh environment, however, there are a surprising number of fences and yes, you guessed it, just as many gates. The first gate that taunts the navigator marks the end of the Witjira National Park but there are a couple more ahead to ensure that the navigator is kept fit.
The track tends to follow the dry creek beds but eventually greets you with a rise that provides distant views of the tree-lined Abminga Creek and the Abminga Station on the old Ghan line. Abminga would have been busy from the late 1920s when the first Ghan headed towards Alice and it was the starting point for Cecil Madigan in 1939 in his crossing of the North Simpson Desert. Now it's a ghost town. The rusty water tower and a coal hopper, looking like an alien insect from a movie set, are still standing. The old structures, houses and fettlers' rooms are slowly decaying from neglect but you can spend hours wandering around the site, piecing together the past from the remaining relics.
read on below advertisement
From Abminga, it's worth the detour to Eringa. Take the track south for around 20 kilometres, where you will suddenly find yourself on a ridge looking down on Eringa Waterhole, place of the Perenti dreaming, and a favorite campsite in the early 1860s for John McDouall Stuart on his trips to the north of the continent.
Sir Sidney Kidman acquired Eringa in the 1890s, the first property he had purchased on his own. Kidman must have had an emotional bond to the place because his favourite cattle brand X70 came from Eringa and he named his family homes in Kapunda and Adelaide after this place.
Resume the Loop back at Abminga, and then head north through gibber plains and into the Northern Territory. Now this would have to be one of the few spots in the country where a State boundary is not marked by any sign or gate, but your GPS will let you know if you want to celebrate the border crossing. For those that are not GPS endowed, a set of cattle yards on the left is the signal to look right, and around 500 metres off the track up a gibber rise is a small concrete and brass marker that declares the boundary.
A few clicks on past the border is an intersection. The ruins of Charlotte Waters are reached 500 metres to the north. In its heyday, Charlotte Waters comprised a repeater station for the Overland Telegraph Line and a police station, housed in substantial stone buildings. The buildings were located on a small rise with extensive views over the gibber country to Mt Hearne and the Anderson Range. The buildings were not placed in this position for the benefit of the telegraph operators, but rather as a means of defense from possible attacks from the local aborigines. The walls of the building had loopholes or vertical slots that allowed a rifle to be fired from inside. Unfortunately, all that remains today of all this grandeur is a stone tank and part of a cellar, since the stones that made up the
buildings were removed and used to build the station homestead at New Crown.
If you think Charlotte Waters looks a bit drab now, at least you have been warned. Spare a thought for Madigan and his men when they arrived. As he said in his book Crossing The Dead Heart, "My companions, from their memory of the prominence given to Charlotte Waters on school maps... had imagined it was a town, the capital of a thriving center. We found its one inhabitant dead".
Hopefully you won't have such a greeting, but just beyond the rubble there is a lonely grave, marked by a fancy iron cross and railings. There has been some controversy over the years about whom, or in this case, what is buried in the grave.
Some believe it was a nine-year-old girl while Madigan reckoned it was the last resting place of a blacksmith's dog. You can make up your own mind.
Standing at the grave, it's fair to ask how such a desolate place got such a pleasant name as Charlotte Waters. Well, you may need to be sitting down for the answer.
Apparently Lord Byron, the famous English poet, fell head over heels for a young woman by the name of Charlotte Harley. Smitten by her beauty, he dedicated a large poem to her, referring to her as 'Ianthe', which in Greek mythology is basically a cross between a goddess and a water nymph.
As luck would have it, Charlotte Harley had eyes for another, a veteran of Waterloo by the name of Major-General Anthony Bacon. They ended up married and had a son whom they christened Harley Bacon.
The family then migrated to Australia, settling in Adelaide. Rather than following in his father's footsteps, young Harley eventually found himself working on the Overland Telegraph Line in this area. His overseer, a Mr Knuckey, got into diffi culties while travelling and was near to dying of thirst when he came across a waterhole.
Recovering from his ordeal and struck by the beauty of the water, he sought a name for this oasis. But what could compare to its beauty? It was just a matter of association. Aware of young Harley's pedigree and Byron's likening Harley's mother to an aquatic goddess, the answer was simple. You can fi nd the Charlotte Waters just to the north in the tree lined Coglin Creek.
After this brush with the arts, you will probably want to start heading back to Mount Dare for a few cold ones, so turn around and take the track to the south and veer left at the intersection. The Loop now follows station fences and crosses dry creek beds. However, the navigator does get the opportunity to stretch the legs and open the border gate between South Australia and the Northern Territory, where a plethora of signs greet you.
Mount Dare Hotel, the most inland settlement and most northern pub in South Australia is soon reached. The Loop is completed and Outback history has been relived.
Words and photos Gary Monahan
Most 4WD travellers who reach the remote Mount Dare Hotel in the far north of South Australia have the Simpson Desert on their mind. They are either savouring the memories of their completed desert crossing or contemplating the journey ahead, across the sea of red dunes to the east. But very few are aware of the land to the west of Mount Dare that is full of gibber plains, tree lined creeks and stunning waterholes.
This region is alive with the Outback history of explorers, bullockies, pastoralists, the Overland Telegraph Line and the old Ghan railway. And, in a bizarre twist, there's even a brush with the poet Lord Byron.
You can explore this country on a series of tracks we have christened the Mount Dare Loop. What makes this journey appealing is that you can choose your own pace - it is possible to do the loop in a long day or take a couple of days and really soak up the history at your feet. And you can join or leave the loop at any point.
If you want to follow these notes that follow the loop clockwise, then take the track south from the Mount Dare Hotel towards Dalhousie Springs. After 33 kilometres, turn right at the intersection that is signposted to Federal, an early Outback homestead. After crossing some small dunes and claypans, the track winds along a heavily treed creek.
At just over five kilometres from the intersection, and past the Federal Waterhole sign, look on the right for a tall post with a pulley placed strategically on top, some metres off the track. A large Coolabah that stands nearby guards the homestead site. If you see the old horse yards, do a u-turn because you have gone too far.
While there is nothing left standing of Federal, the red sand at your feet presents an enormous mosaic created by rows upon rows of partially buried, upside down old beer bottles. By using your imagination, it's easy to examine the rows of bottles and work out the outline of the old homestead and all the surrounding extensive garden beds. But if your imagination isn't up to scratch, let R. B. Plowman, who wrote The Man from Oodnadatta, describe the scene for you: "...a small cottage homestead literally embowered in creepers, trees and shrubs. A wealth of flowers, grape and cucumber vines, useful and ornamental creepers, extensive lawns, vegetables in profusion, and fruit- trees of many kinds, throve and made a wonderful scene."
No wonder Federal was described as 'the talk of Central Australia'.
Back on the track, and after passing Hughes Waterhole, you enter an open
plain covered with gibbers and low shrubs. It is in this barren landscape that you will come across Bloods Creek. It may be in ruins now, but again try to imagine Bloods Creek in its heyday. Located on the Overland Telegraph Line, the grog shop and store here must have boomed at times with all sorts of colourful characters moving along the only track to the Centre.
Their legacy is strewn everywhere with bits of packhorse gear resting beside old automotive parts, broken crockery, tins and bottles.
Horseshoes and bullocky cues tell of the early travellers to the Centre while a lonely grave with an iron frame, and a small yet dignified memorial to Indulkatu, an Aboriginal woman whose remains lie in the area, tell of the hardships.
In 1913 Captain Samuel White of the Central Australian Scientific Expedition visited here and thought that the couple of galvanized-iron sheds that comprised Bloods Creek were "a perfect nightmare... in a sunbaked, dry-sucked wilderness".
If he had seen the bottle dump he would have realised it wasn't so dry out here! Nevertheless, based on Captain White's description, it's not surprising that Bloods Creek was eventually abandoned.
It would take a man of courage and strength to take over the lease and such a man was Ted Colson. He and aboriginal Peter Ains put the settlement back on the map in 1936 when they set out on camels from Bloods Creek and were the first men to cross the Simpson Desert to Birdsville. They then repeated their feat by returning across the desert.
But progress waits for no man regardless of his capabilities and the extension of the Ghan to Alice Springs meant the end for Bloods Creek. It is thought that Ted Colson was the last person to live at Bloods Creek before it was again left to the elements.
Back on the Loop, after passing the large windmill located on the creek from which Bloods Creek got its name, you come to an intersection. If time is a bit tight then swing left towards Eringa on a maintained track but if time is on your side, an alternative is to turn right towards Mount Dare. Then a few hundred metres along, turn left onto a narrow track where a scratchy sign feebly declares "Abminga 31". Although this track is not maintained, it is not difficult. It can be slow in places, especially where there have been washouts or around the small rocky ledges which will reduce the speed of your 4WD to walking pace. For such a harsh environment, however, there are a surprising number of fences and yes, you guessed it, just as many gates. The first gate that taunts the navigator marks the end of the Witjira National Park but there are a couple more ahead to ensure that the navigator is kept fit.
The track tends to follow the dry creek beds but eventually greets you with a rise that provides distant views of the tree-lined Abminga Creek and the Abminga Station on the old Ghan line. Abminga would have been busy from the late 1920s when the first Ghan headed towards Alice and it was the starting point for Cecil Madigan in 1939 in his crossing of the North Simpson Desert. Now it's a ghost town. The rusty water tower and a coal hopper, looking like an alien insect from a movie set, are still standing. The old structures, houses and fettlers' rooms are slowly decaying from neglect but you can spend hours wandering around the site, piecing together the past from the remaining relics.
read on below advertisement
From Abminga, it's worth the detour to Eringa. Take the track south for around 20 kilometres, where you will suddenly find yourself on a ridge looking down on Eringa Waterhole, place of the Perenti dreaming, and a favorite campsite in the early 1860s for John McDouall Stuart on his trips to the north of the continent.
Sir Sidney Kidman acquired Eringa in the 1890s, the first property he had purchased on his own. Kidman must have had an emotional bond to the place because his favourite cattle brand X70 came from Eringa and he named his family homes in Kapunda and Adelaide after this place.
Resume the Loop back at Abminga, and then head north through gibber plains and into the Northern Territory. Now this would have to be one of the few spots in the country where a State boundary is not marked by any sign or gate, but your GPS will let you know if you want to celebrate the border crossing. For those that are not GPS endowed, a set of cattle yards on the left is the signal to look right, and around 500 metres off the track up a gibber rise is a small concrete and brass marker that declares the boundary.
A few clicks on past the border is an intersection. The ruins of Charlotte Waters are reached 500 metres to the north. In its heyday, Charlotte Waters comprised a repeater station for the Overland Telegraph Line and a police station, housed in substantial stone buildings. The buildings were located on a small rise with extensive views over the gibber country to Mt Hearne and the Anderson Range. The buildings were not placed in this position for the benefit of the telegraph operators, but rather as a means of defense from possible attacks from the local aborigines. The walls of the building had loopholes or vertical slots that allowed a rifle to be fired from inside. Unfortunately, all that remains today of all this grandeur is a stone tank and part of a cellar, since the stones that made up the
buildings were removed and used to build the station homestead at New Crown.
If you think Charlotte Waters looks a bit drab now, at least you have been warned. Spare a thought for Madigan and his men when they arrived. As he said in his book Crossing The Dead Heart, "My companions, from their memory of the prominence given to Charlotte Waters on school maps... had imagined it was a town, the capital of a thriving center. We found its one inhabitant dead".
Hopefully you won't have such a greeting, but just beyond the rubble there is a lonely grave, marked by a fancy iron cross and railings. There has been some controversy over the years about whom, or in this case, what is buried in the grave.
Some believe it was a nine-year-old girl while Madigan reckoned it was the last resting place of a blacksmith's dog. You can make up your own mind.
Standing at the grave, it's fair to ask how such a desolate place got such a pleasant name as Charlotte Waters. Well, you may need to be sitting down for the answer.
Apparently Lord Byron, the famous English poet, fell head over heels for a young woman by the name of Charlotte Harley. Smitten by her beauty, he dedicated a large poem to her, referring to her as 'Ianthe', which in Greek mythology is basically a cross between a goddess and a water nymph.
As luck would have it, Charlotte Harley had eyes for another, a veteran of Waterloo by the name of Major-General Anthony Bacon. They ended up married and had a son whom they christened Harley Bacon.
The family then migrated to Australia, settling in Adelaide. Rather than following in his father's footsteps, young Harley eventually found himself working on the Overland Telegraph Line in this area. His overseer, a Mr Knuckey, got into diffi culties while travelling and was near to dying of thirst when he came across a waterhole.
Recovering from his ordeal and struck by the beauty of the water, he sought a name for this oasis. But what could compare to its beauty? It was just a matter of association. Aware of young Harley's pedigree and Byron's likening Harley's mother to an aquatic goddess, the answer was simple. You can fi nd the Charlotte Waters just to the north in the tree lined Coglin Creek.
After this brush with the arts, you will probably want to start heading back to Mount Dare for a few cold ones, so turn around and take the track to the south and veer left at the intersection. The Loop now follows station fences and crosses dry creek beds. However, the navigator does get the opportunity to stretch the legs and open the border gate between South Australia and the Northern Territory, where a plethora of signs greet you.
Mount Dare Hotel, the most inland settlement and most northern pub in South Australia is soon reached. The Loop is completed and Outback history has been relived.
