Next Job- The Desert
Number Three in new career path is The Next Job- The Desert.
I have traveled over the Flinders Ranges in South Australia at forty thousand feet many times the over twenty years ago in a Citation Jet and at 10000 feet in lighter aircraft, even skirted around them on three occasions in a car. But not through them, land wise. The last consulting job, or present I should point out, has me and an old colleague from waayy baack in time going to a job in northern South Australia, north of a place called Moomba, to a site just short of the Coopers Creek.
First night along the track was at Copley, a nice dinner and a few Adelaide beers, a quick couple of shots of the STARRY night, and bed. Third day on the road for me to the next job, the desert, over.
This journey for me was interesting: at forty thousand feet, the resolution is of course large scale structures, but behind short sharp bends around a steep barren ridge of Pre-Cambrian shattered weathered rocks at ground level, hidden railway crossings appear… The drive had more little bits of “wake up driver” intervals too, especially off the tarmac out of the ranges… There are white flat areas in the gravel that look like a flat clay spot- NO- a bath tub sized and depth of the finest bulldust in the world with a sharp lip NOT like a bathtub lip, that shakes the crap out of the vehicle, and loosens the bowels and bladder and the nerves in one short BANG BANG. And road trains, prime movers with two and sometimes three tankers or trailers full of gear for the gas and oil field projects, moving sedately[?} through the desert, politely moving to the leeward side of the road so us little guys can move dust free past them rather than running head long into the next truck or four wheel drive.
Due to unseemly circumstances, there was a very quick visit to the rig, then back to a place to possibly stay- computer said “no” there too, and then back to rig, and then continued to Innamincka, a ‘town’ on a crossing of the Copper’s creek in northeastern South Australia.
Bugger, there was rooms there at the Hotel, but that saved backtracking through the night to Copley with the nearest motel where we stayed the previous night. So we stayed in small broom closet size rooms. Cheaper than the en-suite type of course, but when walls are tissue thin, every conversation from the lounge bounces in, or snoring… Big dinner- I was starved by eight that night what with no lunch enroute!
And the next day, we had to source a new abode, The Cooper Creek Homestay, nice and cosy, loud air-conditioner but TV and WiFi! And Food and Cheap Beer! Not as cheap room price, but in the desert… Returned to the Hotel and we got to see on live satellite feed the Dockers get a lesson from the Hawks in kicking a pigskin-ed ball around a paddock through some tallish pairs of white posts that had one hundred thousand one eyed team supporters around it yelling, I mean screaming, “You idiot! Ya missed an easy one, bloody hell!” or “Ha, idiot, ha ha”. Yes, footy supporters are pretty tough on their own guys or the opposition.
Late night of course, a few beers, going back over mutual old friends in the oilpatch and what the next job entailed. Sunday was a rest day… Monday was supposed to be a day of fishing and touring the hot spot power plant, but we were due back at work according to an early morning email! Washing done first, dry in less than an hour, and off on the track we went, hopefully to some beds too.
And that’s all folks, for now, on the next job- The Desert one that is.