Red Dirt Memories

We were keen for our first red dirt experience so we headed to the gorgeous town of Windorah to see some red sand hills. After a long day driving we discussed maybe heading out the next morning after a nights rest. I picked up a brochure showing pictures of the gorgeous hills at sunset. Let’s go now, I pushed. As soon as I mentioned sunset drinks Troy was ushering the kids back in the car.

The red hills appeared ahead so Troy let out some air in the tyres so we could make our way up the sandy hill. We all piled out of the ute in awe of the 360 degree views from the top of the hill. Ronin immediately plonked his butt down digging a big hole while Zeus tossed and turned on his back flicking the red dust everywhere. Maddi decided to take in the views from the car bonnet to escape the harsh sand blowing in her face.

I walked around taking a few snaps enjoying the fact that the kids weren’t clawing at my heels for a change. The wind started to pick up and the sand was even getting a bit much for poor Zeus. I could see the red dust sticking around his eyes. The kids were getting tired and hungry as well so we packed them back in the car and gave them half a biscuit I found floating around in my bag. Troy put the car in reverse and we felt the tyres spin but we weren’t going anywhere.

We tried to back out again; letting more air out of the tyres. The car had sunk so much that the sand was up near the doors. Troy grabbed the shovel to start digging out sand but it looked pointless. The more sand he moved the more it spilled back underneath. The sun had disappeared and I thought enough was enough and we would have to call someone to come help. I made a call into town and tried to get our message across. The guy on the other end was getting frustrated by the background noise. I couldn’t quieten the cries from the kids in the car and the wind was howling around us outside.

I put Troy on the phone to try relay the message while I settled the kids. He waited while numerous calls were made to locals to see if anyone was nearby. Another guy rang back to tell us he would be able to come out in the morning. We now know that getting bogged on a Friday night means you have limited chance of finding someone willing to help. The sand would cover the car completely by morning at the rate it was coming in. The guy heard the cries of the kids in the background and told us to hold on for a bit while he rang another friend. We were in luck! Someone was able to come help but we were told it could be a little while.

The kids were starving at this point and refused to sit in the car any longer. I dug around in the esky for leftover spag bol while Troy kept trying to get us out. I got the kids to face away from the wind and I tried to shield their food from the sand while giving them mouthfuls. This seemed pointless as I looked over at Ronin with a big mouthful of sand. Since entering toddlerhood he has become accustomed to throwing food then eating it off the ground. The sand got the better of him though and the tears started as he tried scraping the grit from his tongue.

The wind picked up again and dirt was being blown in every direction. Troy had the backseat down to access tools and he didn’t want the kids near the steering wheel. I decided the next best option was sitting the kids on the roof of the car. They were happy up there but Ronin decided to walk across the bars of the canopy where I envisioned him toppling through or off the side. I went to run around the other side but the sand was so dry my feet sank ridiculously fast. Because of the pace I was moving my thongs locked into the dirt and I had a double thong blow out at the simultaneous time. I cursed my cheap Kmart shoes as I catapulted into thorny tumbleweed. I had no idea how vicious that weed grips onto your skin until now.

We saw headlights coming up the hill and I felt a surge of relief. I pulled Roey off the roof and started pulling barbs from my body. After A quick chat with our knight in shining ute Troy started yelling orders at me to get the car ready. Mostly I didn’t know what I was doing but I’ve learnt with Troy in these times to just look busy. It was dark and I cursed with every movement as more thorns dug into my bare feet. Thankfully it wasn’t much longer and we were pulled out. Covered head to toe in red dirt, we did what any Aussie would do in this situation and pulled into the pub for a drink. We bought our rescuer a carton to say thanks and all had a laugh.

As I write this my eye is still watering from the grit left behind and Troy has pulled numerous splinters from my feet. We have now learnt the hard-way why stockmen wear cowboy boots and jeans.