Ultimate adventure

Just three words - 'Canning Stock Route' - strike fear, adventure and wonder into the hearts of the Australian adventurer.  The average preparation time for a Canning Stock Route journey is about two years, but that's once you've decided you actually want to go. In reality, most adventurers take a lifetime of planning, because the Canning sits at the end of a long list of 'must-do' Australian 4WD treks. You 'do' the Canning only 'after' you've done Cape York, the Victorian High Country, the Simpson Desert, the Kimberley and a host of other smaller, shorter treks. You hone your skills before tackling the big one.

I decided to do the Canning on a whim and with just seven days worth of preparation. Well, probably better not call it a 'whim', but more the fact that 'the planets aligned'. You see, I'd just taken delivery of a brand new Nissan Patrol 3.0TD which ARB had kindly kitted-out for me. You know the deal - roof rack, snorkel, long range fuel tank, bullbar, Warn winch - the whole box and dice. And the kids even had twin HiTV DVD screens built into the headrests for those long mind-numbing stretches of corrugations that lay ahead. But more than that, we had a camper-trailer to play with; one of the few on the market that you can genuinely trust out in these parts. It was the military-based Track Tvan Tanami - one slick looking package that looks part IKEA, part Swiss Army knife.

So what exactly is the Canning Stock Route? In the late 1800s and early 1900s there was a massive boom in the goldfields area of Western Australia, particularly around Kalgoorlie. The miners and workers needed to be fed. However, getting the food from where it was grown to where it was eaten proved difficult, and meat shortages and high prices were common. In the same period, the Kimberley beef cattle industry was really finding its feet. Beef production was booming, however, transport to the rest of the world was always going to be a challenge. Hence, it was decided to build a stock route between the Kimberley and the gold fields. The cattle would be walked down the stock route - some 1800km - and would arrive fresh and ready for slaughter, probably in better condition than if they had been sent by ship.

The man charged with the responsibility of mapping the stock route and building the wells required to water the stock, was none other than Alfred Wernham Canning. He was one seriously hard working pioneer, and managed to complete the mammoth task of digging the 51 wells required to water the cattle, in just two years. Some of the wells were just two metres deep, while Well five is a 105ft drop that had to be cut through solid rock. But digging the wells was only half of the issue. This is some of the hottest and harshest terrain on the planet, pushing through no less than five separate deserts, including the Gibson and the Great Sandy. The local nomadic aboriginals from this region weren't too happy with the company either, and on one occasion Canning's well expert Michael Tobin was speared and subsequently died.

The Canning expedition was completed largely on camels, which were later allowed to run wild at the end of the run. Their ancestors (all one million of them) can be seen roaming the desert nowadays, particularly on the southern end of the stock route. So the Canning Stock Route pretty-much follows the route that the drovers took back in 1906.

Yet strangely, after it was built, just 12 or 13 mobs of cattle were driven down the route. Hostility with the aboriginals struck fear into many drovers, who refused to subject themselves to the risky ordeal.

Ultimate adventure

Just three words - 'Canning Stock Route' - strike fear, adventure and wonder into the hearts of the Australian adventurer.  The average preparation time for a Canning Stock Route journey is about two years, but that's once you've decided you actually want to go. In reality, most adventurers take a lifetime of planning, because the Canning sits at the end of a long list of 'must-do' Australian 4WD treks. You 'do' the Canning only 'after' you've done Cape York, the Victorian High Country, the Simpson Desert, the Kimberley and a host of other smaller, shorter treks. You hone your skills before tackling the big one.

I decided to do the Canning on a whim and with just seven days worth of preparation. Well, probably better not call it a 'whim', but more the fact that 'the planets aligned'. You see, I'd just taken delivery of a brand new Nissan Patrol 3.0TD which ARB had kindly kitted-out for me. You know the deal - roof rack, snorkel, long range fuel tank, bullbar, Warn winch - the whole box and dice. And the kids even had twin HiTV DVD screens built into the headrests for those long mind-numbing stretches of corrugations that lay ahead. But more than that, we had a camper-trailer to play with; one of the few on the market that you can genuinely trust out in these parts. It was the military-based Track Tvan Tanami - one slick looking package that looks part IKEA, part Swiss Army knife.

So what exactly is the Canning Stock Route? In the late 1800s and early 1900s there was a massive boom in the goldfields area of Western Australia, particularly around Kalgoorlie. The miners and workers needed to be fed. However, getting the food from where it was grown to where it was eaten proved difficult, and meat shortages and high prices were common. In the same period, the Kimberley beef cattle industry was really finding its feet. Beef production was booming, however, transport to the rest of the world was always going to be a challenge. Hence, it was decided to build a stock route between the Kimberley and the gold fields. The cattle would be walked down the stock route - some 1800km - and would arrive fresh and ready for slaughter, probably in better condition than if they had been sent by ship.

The man charged with the responsibility of mapping the stock route and building the wells required to water the stock, was none other than Alfred Wernham Canning. He was one seriously hard working pioneer, and managed to complete the mammoth task of digging the 51 wells required to water the cattle, in just two years. Some of the wells were just two metres deep, while Well five is a 105ft drop that had to be cut through solid rock. But digging the wells was only half of the issue. This is some of the hottest and harshest terrain on the planet, pushing through no less than five separate deserts, including the Gibson and the Great Sandy. The local nomadic aboriginals from this region weren't too happy with the company either, and on one occasion Canning's well expert Michael Tobin was speared and subsequently died.

The Canning expedition was completed largely on camels, which were later allowed to run wild at the end of the run. Their ancestors (all one million of them) can be seen roaming the desert nowadays, particularly on the southern end of the stock route. So the Canning Stock Route pretty-much follows the route that the drovers took back in 1906.

Yet strangely, after it was built, just 12 or 13 mobs of cattle were driven down the route. Hostility with the aboriginals struck fear into many drovers, who refused to subject themselves to the risky ordeal.

Dirt, rocks 'n' sand

To summarise the Canning Stock Route in a few thousand words is like explaining War & Peace in a paragraph. But hey, I'll give it a crack. For a start, the Canning takes, on average, 21 days to complete by 4WD. It is extremely slow going. On one particular 46-degree day, we decided to make a mile, driving from sunrise to sunset, with only the obligatory food and loo stops. We covered 115km. Not all days are like that by the way, others are much more brisk, but then, the pace you take also determines how much you see. There are roughly three different types of terrain on the Canning: dirt, rocks and sand. The dirt roads are basically like station tracks. Two wheel tracks, that have never seen a grader and are chock full of corrugations with Spinifex up the middle. The rocky sections of the track vary from pure rock (very bumpy, low range stuff), through to bits of rock jutting out of the dirt. The latter is the most common, and it's incredibly painful stuff which simply slows you down and tries to rip your tyres to shreds. Use the right tyres though and you should be fine. We shod our three expedition vehicles with Pirelli Scorpion ATR tyres and returned on exactly the same tyres as we left with.

And then, there's sand. As well as soft sandy tracks, there are 961 sand dunes spread over the Canning Stock Route, the biggest ones being north of Well 36. For the most part, lowering your tyre pressures will see success (I used 16-18psi), but there are a few tricky ones that may require a second go. These are generally the dunes with a dog leg at the bottom, which makes a run-up nigh on impossible. Throw a camper-trailer weighing around a tonne on the back, and you start to appreciate why this trek is so challenging. So why do it? Because you can? Well, if you're anything like me, when I visit a so-called 'big' tourist attraction, I usually come away feeling like someone has just nicked a fifty out of my back pocket. Or if it's a 'family' attraction, better make that $150...  But it's not actually about the money, because a trek like the Canning doesn't exactly come cheap. It's about the experience. At the end of a trek like the Canning you don't leave feeling a little hollow like you do with the theme parks. It's a sense of achievement, and it's kind of nice knowing that very few people have gone before you! We didn't pass any vehicles for seven days straight.

What we did pass, was scenery that re-wrote what I believed Australia to be. Having edited various travel magazines over the past decade, I thought I knew what Australia looked like, not just through my own travels, but through the eyes of countless other photo journalists whose stories I had published. The Canning was something else entirely.

Sure, it still had the iconic and oft-photographed red sand dunes and flat-topped mesa's, but it also had stands of shrubs, trees and plants that I had never before laid eyes upon. There were complete forests of desert oaks, basking, thriving and punching their taproots southwards to the water table to survive.

The feeling of trepidation and fear that you have when you start the journey fades quickly, as you learn not only how to drive the track, but how the land works. There is virtually no surface water out here. Rainfalls simply hits the surface, and if it doesn't slip quickly through the sand to the water table below, it evaporates. The Little Sandy Desert (through which the Canning runs) is a good example of this phenomenon. Out here, the median annual rainfall is 150-200mm, while the average annual evaporation values are 3600mm-4000mm. Surface water doesn't stand a chance. Funnily enough though, the water is rarely far from the surface. The southern end of Lake Disappointment comprises of a number of creeks that you have to negotiate. They're bone dry on the surface crust, but that only disguises a briny mass that is metres deep in places. Drive into this, and expect a 10 hour recovery with virtually no natural recovery anchor points with which to attach a winch. We walked gingerly around this area, while my much lighter kids danced and ran. But that's the Canning. Unique, amazing, massive.

Kunawarritji

The enormity of the Canning Stock Route is what gets to you over the journey. So-much-so, that many who had planned to travel the entire route bundy off at Well 33, opting for easier roads and more creature comforts. For unlike other treks like Cape York that are broken up with stops at great little pubs and communities, there is just one stop on the Canning - Kunawarritji. It's a dry community, and no, they don't serve coffee or have a cappuccino machine (much to the chagrin of many travellers apparently).

The aboriginal presence along the Canning Stock Route is ever present. There are rich galleries of rock art, but sadly no guides to tell you of its meaning. It is in this remote tract of land that the last of the nomadic aborigines were discovered in the 1960s. The fascinating book 'The Lizard Eaters' talks of the expedition to find the last nomads in this region. They were suffering from malnutrition, they apparently didn't smile and ran and hid when planes flew overhead. And once found, they gloriously gorged themselves on damper 'til they could eat no more. Their descendants are now living in Kunawarritji, and still hunt for up to 60 per cent of their food. Flip open the lid of the chest freezer in the community shop, and you're greeted with the sight of two-dozen snap-chilled Kangaroo tails. We stuck with baked beans. Funny story here though. We stocked up on muesli bars for the kids at the local shop, only to find that the box sported the Olympic Rings, from Sydney 2000. The year was 2009...! And the winner is?! But hey, that's what you travel outback for, unique quirky experiences like these.

Our Track Tvan was like the Olympic gold medallist marathon runner. It's incredible suspension glided over the biggest lumps, bumps and rocks with ease. And I'm not kidding with using the word 'glide'. Most camper-trailers, even those with good independent suspension, tend to run out of suspension travel (both upwards and downwards) because they use short links and shorter shock absorbers. The Tvan has an innovative and unique cross-link setup, which means that it has about twice as much suspension travel as other camper trailers. On a smooth track like the Birdsville Track, you might not notice the difference. Yet on a track like the Canning, where off-roaders have carved holes at the bottom of dunes prior to getting stuck, you really do notice. Our crew of ten marvelled at the ability of the wheels to seemingly constantly be in contact with mother earth, despite the potholes and trench holes being laid in front of them. Oh yeah, the rest of the trailer was first class too. It was super-fast to erect, whether you wanted to stay overnight (30 second set up) or set up the tent (5 mins tops). About the only thing that went wrong was a couple of battery bracket screws came loose - nothing that a little Loctite wouldn't fix.

If you plan on doing serious 4WD adventures like the Canning, you'd be mad not to at least have a look at the Tvan Tanami. Sure, it's not the cheapest out there, but an outback recovery isn't cheap either. And the resale value of the Tvan is phenomenal too. I should probably also mention that it has a watertank, two water pumps, room for five jerrycans, a full stainless steel kitchen and truckloads of storage space, but all of those details are easily discovered so why waste words here.

So there you have it folks, the Canning Stock Route adventure. Would I do it again? Hell yeah. Would I take the kids next time? Hmm, not sure, actually yes, but when they're a little older. At just four years of age, I'm not sure that Outback Barbie (Charlotte) should have been subjected to 46-degree days and four billion corrugations. Not that she was complaining though...

Words & photos Pat Callinan.

Article published in Caravan+RV magazine, February/March 2010.