I’ve had the annual White Cliffs Camel Cup and Bikehana in my calendar for many weeks, and as life got busier and busier, I found myself yearning to hit the road and head north.

Day 1: Hitting the Cobb Highway

By the time my husband Jason and I finished work early last Thursday and met at the door of the caravan, I couldn’t wait to leave some stress behind. I literally threw clothes into the cupboard, flung some groceries into the van fridge, and said goodbye to the dog, as we dropped him to his doggo grandparents.

A couple of mates from Darlington Point joined us in their own van and we headed off into the sunset, leaving Hay via the Cobb Highway. The sun shone through the windscreen, the flat, wide plains spread out either side of us, and I took a deep breath of relaxation – three days of adventure stretched out in front of me.

With just a few hours of daylight available, we made it to the other side of Ivanhoe before pulling up for the night. We circled the vans, collected firewood and ate salami and cheese in front of the roaring camp fire. There was not a cloud in the sky and a million stars twinkled overhead, in the still, frozen night air. The temperature dipped further after we retreated to bed, and a four am both hubby and I were scrambling in the dark to find another layer of clothes to wear.

Wilcannia: A town full of surprises

Despite the chill that descended overnight, Friday morning dawned bright and crisp. Luckily for us, our neighbours had relit the fire and dried the dew from our discarded camp chairs, so all I needed to do was warm myself and sip coffee. What a delicious was to start the day – caffeinated, in the scrubby sunshine, with only a mob of curious emus to judge my early morning attire.

Once we hit the road, we only drove for an hour or so before hitting the town of Wilcannia, built on the Darling or Baaka River. As we turned the corner towards the infamous Wilcannia Café, we were surprised to see both sides of the wide street lined with caravans, campers and cars – apparently everyone heading to the Camel Cup had had the same idea as us.

Despite the crowds, the staff at the café cheerfully pumped out strong, hot coffees and delicious meals, without fuss. I managed to catch a word with owners Shona Cook and Conrad Brown, when they took a well-deserved breather. They agreed to pose for a quick photo, and told me that the morning crowd “wasn’t even busy yet.”

“Wait till next week,” Shona said. “When Mundi Mundi is on.”

She was referring to the Mundi Mundi Bash, sister to the Birdsville Big Red Bash event, that is held outside Broken Hill. It was scheduled for the following weekend, so I could only assume many were stopping in for the Camel Cup, enroute to the Bash.

Set up on the narrow verandah of the cottage that now houses the café, was Jill McNamara, from Copago Station, some 40 kilometres from town. Jill harvests salt from the salt plains on her property, and creates a mouth-watering range of flavoured salts, often seasoned with herbs she has grown herself. I browsed while we waited for our morning tea, and bought a few varieties to try. I also spoke to Jill about a feature article in the future, so keep an eye out for that.

Above from left: Bronte Wagstaff from Wilcannia Central School, Wilcannia Cafe's Shona Cook and Conrad Brown and Copago Salt's Jill McNamara

Also in Wilcannia that morning was ABC Radio Broken Hill’s Andrew Schmidt, so we had a quick yarn on the footpath of Reid Street. Andrew had just driven from Ivanhoe, where he had broadcast the daily breakfast show. Like many others circling Wilcannia Café that morning, he was on his way out to Mundi Mundi, to cover the four-day live music festival.

Once our coffee and cake had been inhaled, our travelling party joined the queue for fuel. The queue was pretty slow moving so I took the opportunity to bluster into the Police Station, introduce myself and drop off a couple of our Back Country Bulletin caps.

There I met Brendan Adams, the Aboriginal Community Liaison Officer, who was happy to share with me all his incredible project ideas for the Central Darling Shire patch he covers. Right now, Brendan is working on ‘The Deadly Race’ which is his version of the TV show ‘The Amazing Race.’ As a Halloween event, he plans to set a series of challenges for the kids of Wilcannia, and he explained it to me.

“When the clue heads them to the hospital, they’ll have to pass the challenge of bandaging someone for a snake bite. When they come here top the Police Station, the challenge will be to call 000.”

Brendan explained often when young kids need emergency service, they will give their address as “Uncle Roger’s place.” It was great to hear about really practical projects, that look like good fun at the same time.

Brendan and I swapped contact details and I feel we will be back to catch up with each other again – especially if the is a Deadly Race nearby, that I can take part in.

I jumped back in the passenger seat, and we continued to crawl towards the bowser. When we turned the corner, I spied a woman with a table set up on the nature strip, and she was unabashed in her sales pitch.

“I have a heap of crafts the school kids have made and are selling,” she said, leaning in our car window. “You should come and have a look.”

She introduced herself as Bronte Wagstaffe, the art teacher at Wilcannia Central School.

Clutching cash, I hopped out for a look at the brightly painted pottery and laser etched wood crafts. When I hopped back in the car, I was minus the cash, but was the proud new owner of an iridescent fish and a ceramic yabby artwork.

Fuelled up, we wove our way through town, dodging the growing legions of tourists (just like us), who were cheerfully blocking roads and driveways, much to the rueful amusement of the locals.

Above: Brunker Creek - more images on BCB News' Facebook page

White Cliffs: Chasing opals and adventure

We pulled over to have a look at the old bridge over Brunker Creek, before pulling into White Cliffs on Friday afternoon. We headed straight out the gymkhana and rodeo grounds to quickly set up camp and unhook the vans, before driving straight back into town to check out some opals. Red Earth Opals was just shutting up shop for the day so we would our way around the hill to Southern Cross Opals, which has an enviable view, overlooking the vast plains.

We were met by Rusty and Dick, who showed us their opals and jewellery, but also their most recent find – opalised wood from around 100 million years ago, when White Cliffs region was inundated by a primeval ocean. We held slices of the ancient rock to the sunlight, and saw how it magically shone through the veins of opal.

We did a quick drive around town before settling at the community hub – the White Cliffs Hotel. Matt Young and Sarah Ker were gearing up for a busy few weeks, hosting visitors for the Cup, en route to Mundi Mundi or simply escaping the rate race. Again, a brief conversation reveals a multitude of stories waiting to be told, so we will take up Matt’s offer to camp at the pub next visit, and meet some more people.

We ate simply that night, seated around the fire, sharing a meal liberally dowsed with Jill’s flavoursome salts.

Above from left: Sarah Ker and Matt Young, mine hosts from White Cliffs Hotel, and Rusty from Southern Cross Opals, with his 100 million year old opalised wood

Race Day: Where camels and motorbikes meet

The next morning, as coffee brewed and bacon sizzled, we heard the unmistakeable buzz of the motorbikes, warming up, ready for the bikehana. According to our program, the first events were under seven-year-olds, from 8am.

I breezily told Jason I would “just grab a couple of quick photos” but the tiny riders immediately grabbed both my attention and my heart. Tiny motorcross bikers lined up for event after event, deftly weaving around barrels and cheering each other on. Parents ran around the event tracks, showing kids the way and not one person failed to clap the young racers on.

I hurried back to the van to get Jas, and we joined the crowds, cheering on every pint-sized competitor as they proudly raised the dust beneath their tyre and boots.

I overheard one man – obviously a visitor; “How incredible is this. I wish we’d been able to raise our kids like this.” The ultimate compliment for all these outback parents.

Everyone joined in. If one kids bike stalled, someone raced in to help them. Fearless dads stood near the barrels to send kids flying past the in the right direction, and the food and drinks rolled from the canteen all day.

As quickly as it had started, the bike entrants and organisers moved across the race track behind the fence, as the auction for the first camel race began. Let me tell you, the action of the auction was fierce - syndicates were born on the spot, as mate pooled finances to bid higher and higher, all in the name of charity, and for the honour of being the winning bidder.

Becoming a camel jockey seemed crazily easy. The charismatic bloke behind the microphone simply called out “anyone want to ride a camel?” Seems if you wanted to ride, you could. I had sized up the camels earlier in the day, and once face-to-face I realised just how huge the desert animals were, so it was quite a definite no from both of us.

Jason did get in on the auction in race three, where his steed (that he named ‘Toe’) managed a respectable second place.

The day wound onwards until the afternoon, with the crowd heading across the track for bikekhana events inn all ages, then back behind the fence until all the camel races had been run. The depth of bulldust grew under the heavy attention of a thousand motorbike tyres, and as the blustery southerly winds blew, many of us shared the same dusty orange hue on our clothes, and in our hair, eyes, teeth and ears.

As one, the crowd was dusty, dirty and happy to be here.

As night fell, the fire buckets were lit, and the crowd come together for a hot meal, a cold bevvy and live music from the local band. The car park was full with vehicles from near and far, and the laughter rang out in the otherwise still night air.

After a few days of hectic relaxing our group was pretty weary, so we once again retreated to our fire, quietly tapping our feet and keeping time with the music from across the paddock.

More images on BCB News' Facebook page

Heading home (but not forgetting the lessons)

When we woke on Sunday morning, many vehicles – including a road train stock truck - had already decamped, and as we packed up, we watched the camel truck and crew head home up the highway. We followed soon after, joining a convoy of recreational vehicles, but when they turned right towards Broken Hill and Mundi Mundi, we signalled left.

We stopped riverside at Wilcannia again, and enjoyed another brunch at the café, before wandering in the park, reading some of the signage that lines the river bank.

One struck me. It tells the story of Barkindji Elder Elise Jones and contains a quote that I think is simply beautiful – “We do not only exist now. We are part of our past and part of our future.” It was a sweet reminder to enjoy the moment, and recognise that who have come before us, and those we are trying to leave an example for.

The wise words topped off a simple, yet wonderful weekend. The weekend we went to the camel races at White Cliffs.

Above: The signage that graces the banks of the Baaka (Darling) River are well worth a read - more images on BCB News' Facebook page

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Above: My weekend's treasures - Wilcannia Central School ceramics and Copago Salts

Plan your own trip

• White Cliffs Camel Cup & Bikekhana: Visit NSW Event Page

• Mundi Mundi Bash: Website or Facebook page

• Wilcannia Cafe: Trip advisor

• Southern Cross Opals and Red Earth Opals: White Cliffs Tourism Page

• White Cliffs Hotel: Website