This morning was a hypnotic, spacious, empty drive across the Hay Plain.
The flattest chunk of terrain in the southern hemisphere. Saltbush scrub and low spikey grass pock the currents of grey and red earth that stretch out forever to the curved horizon. It is said there is only 17 metres variance in height along the entire immensity of it.
Pressed between the griddle red earth and blueberry pancake sky, conversations soon suffocate into silence. Nothing left to do but keep Ripley on course and a allow my thoughts to drift off to speculations of secret military bases and alien abductions, and scenes from Mad Max.
It would be a treat to drive this road on a clear moonless night where the solid ground would soon fall away and the scintillation’s of the milky way would swallow us without hesitation.
This evening we are in a free park-up for the night in Balranald. Kelly is madly cooking up all our vegetables as tomorrow we cross into South Australia which has strict bio-security rules on what foodstuffs you can carry across.
I am stuffing my face with dark chocolate and potato chips both of which you can take across, but hey, I don’t want to take any chances.
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