15/05/2026 Rose Isle Station to Yanda Campground

 I had a little photo session with Steve in the morning, before we headed off in opposite directions along the Darling: him south toward Trilby Station and me north toward the Yanda Campsite in the Gunderabooka Conservation Area.

Bye Steve, enjoy your ride.

I want one of these.  Then again, if I had one of these I'd have missed out on all those beautiful bush camps, so maybe I'll stick with what I've (not) got.

It was uneventful riding on a sealed road with a sneaky little head wind.  There was no sign of moisture in the country around me: the ground was bare and grey, the trees silver or dull green.  There were occasional goats.  Kangaroos abounded (ha ha), most of them too far away by the time I stopped and tried to grab a photo.

Except for this one.  I think it was an orphan, or abandoned.

My office, with goats.

The usual 11:00 clutch of caravans came past, having checked out from their last caravan park at 10:00.  Then I had a surprise centre-of-road chat with Trilby volunteers who came past on their way to Bourke.

"You again!  Glad to see you're still alive!"  I wasn't quick enough.  I should have asked them to pick me up some dinner in Bourke and drop it in on the way home.

And then who should pop up but our old friend Charles Sturt, who in 1829 journeyed out here in search of Australia's fabled inland sea.  Mind you, this was on his way back from having followed the Murrumbidgee and then the Murray all the way to the sea.  

I don't blame you for stopping here, Charles mate.  I would have packed up shop and gone home long before now.

Gundabooka National Park/Conservation Area announced itself with a large and very important information board.  Gundabooka linked the upper Darling River with the semi-arid Cobar Peneplain, linking the Ngemba (the 'stone country people') with the Baakandji of the Darling.  The Gunderbooka Range was just visible beyond the mulga on the plains but I had no desire to pedal my bicycle all the way over there even if the information board had tempting pictures of waterholes in stony gorges.  I suspected that water would be sadly missing at the moment.

Yanda Campground was deserted of people but delivered handsomely in the facilities department.  There was a hybrid loo, the likes of which I'd never heard of and called for some serious experimenting.  Don't get excited: it was just a composting toilet with extras.  I bagsed the shelter closest to the river and set myself up with no intention whatsoever of camping in my designated spot when I could have a picnic table, a gas barbecue, and a rain water tank all to myself.  OK, the rain water was just a little green, but let's not get too picky here.

Way more buildings than I expected to see at Yamba campground.

Welcome swallow nests at the information board.

Home for the night: Yamba Campground, Gunderabooka Conservation area. Yes, I've spelled Gunderabooka several different ways: the information boards couldn't make up their minds and I just followed suit.

The campground was on high ground beside what would be a lagoon when the river system was full. I walked down to the river where fish jumped in still grey water that flowed idly between grey snags and grey sand banks.  On the opposite bank three goats held goat conversations but otherwise the only sound was birdsong.

In wetter times this would be the lagoon.

I liked the trees.

The Darling at Yanda campground.

I set up my solar system to charge the necessities of a digital life, read my book, went for another walk around the campground and back down to the river, drew a picture of a tree, and talked with Daughter.  Daughter had been summonsed back to hospital for the kind of emergency that didn't require ambulances but also did not allow dilly-dallying.  I was grateful for the nearby Telstra tower that allowed me to talk to her while I was quite literally out the back o' Bourke.

A little Yellow Sac spider came to share my dinner.

The sun set with a sputter of colour, overwhelmed by incoming clouds.  As the night darkened eyes sparkled beneath the trees, and a fox ran away when I came looking.  A little gecko popped out to say hello as I settled into my sleeping bag, and I fell asleep watching the clouds wipe the stars, one by one, from the sky.