Barn Hill Station to Port Headland

Just before daybreak the wind is starting up again. My sunsail, which I did not roll-up before turning in last night, is banging away as I wake up. Don't want to lose it, so get up, pull the support line, roll it up and stow. Fixed!

The wind is starting in gusts and trails of red dust are starting to swirl across the site. I am leaving this morning anyway, though still undecided about my destination. Eighty-mile-beach is on my way south, then Sandfire Roadhouse and further down the track Pardoo Roadhouse.

I have some breakfast, two mugs of coffee, pack up and leave. As I get in the car, I notice that the clothes I am wearing have a definite red tinge to them, in need of a wash, hopefully at my next stop.

The 10km of dirt road, back to the Highway are easy to negotiate, just watch the speed humps which are not that easy to see in the early morning light, coming sideways through the tall grass by the road. I open and close both gates that I have to drive through and arrive at the main road leading either North, back to Broome, or South, on to Port Headland, the direction I am going to go. I turn right to go South.

The wind seems to have picked up some, also quite gusty, coming from the East. As my direction of travel is actually south-west, the wind gusts from my left side are trying to push me over to the other side of the road. This keeps up at varying strength, depending much on the height of the scrub. When I get to Sandfire, I re-fuel. Its really just a truckstop with a dusty campsite and some units for overnight stay, everything right by the roadside. Not a good choice to stay. I have a drink of lemonade, eat some more Pecans and decide to drive on to Port Headland today. From Sandfire onward, the road turns almost due west and the wind gusts that have been trying to push me sideways before, are now pushing from behind, the ride much more stable now, none of these constant corrections any more. Caravans going the opposite direction all seem to be traveling slower than usual, as they are being punished, driving into a strong headwind.

Flat Land with nothing but burnt grass

The landscape has opened up, wide grass lands now with views again to the horizon. This is much more interesting to travel than the close-to-the-road scrub which prevents any wider views of the land. I go past the turn-off to Eighty-mile Beach as I think, I will be in the same dusty situation as it was at Barn Hill.
Since coming back onto the Highway, I need to cross cattle grids every so often, all of them with associated wire fence lines indicating property boundaries, the grids preventing cattle to cross over into the neighbor's property, are made up of a metal grid, often rail tracks welded onto a steel frame and spaced about 10 cm apart so cattle cannot step on it, as they would fall into the space underneath each grid and so stay away from them. Crossing any of them with my van is usually accompanied by a loud "brrrrrt" and occasionally, a bit of a bump. Looks like I am crossing several property lines on this stretch of road, the space between grids about 40 - 50 km.

Properties seem to be fenced along the road, but I do account for a number of strays grazing near the roadway. Sadly, I also see 5 dead cows in various locations, all of the relatively fresh road kill, as none of them appear to be bloated or being harassed by eagles.
At Pardoo Roadhouse the direction of the road changes again to south-west and I am being pummeled again by the gusts of wind as earlier on, probably more so, as there is only grassland between me and the wind. 50km on, the road changes direction again to west, being pushed, once again by a tailwind.

Some more rocky stuff besides the road

Apart from some rocky outcrops along my road, the land remains flat all the way into Port Hedland. I cross several riverbeds over long bridges, but only one of them has water flowing, all others are dry. There is also a rail line and a sheer endless row of High tension Power Posts that seem to be marching along the rail line. As I get closer to my destination I am beginning to realise, that Port Headland is a giant terminal of multiple modes of transport, for a variety of goods and cargoes. Coming into town there are huge facilities for loading and unloading, to my right, several white mountains, that turn out to be salt. I am heading into town first to check "Tourist Info", but discover that the signage is not correct, no tourist info where the signs say it should be.

I turn around and drive back the way I came into town when I noticed a sign pointing to a caravan park in a more remote location, away from all this heavy industry surrounding me. I turn left toward Cooke Point and I turn out to be lucky (once again) to score a site for the night. All my red coloured clothes need a wash, myself, I am looking forward to a hot shower to get rid of my own red surface.