Wolfe Creek, like Browne, has an 'E'

Trip Start May 19, 2009
Trip End Ongoing

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Flag of Australia  , Western Australia,
Thursday, October 1, 2009

No-one could accuse me of being a shrinking violet, especially when it comes to getting what I want, or, more specifically, doing what I want to do.  I hadn't played the "I own the van" card on the roadtrip yet, but I was about to do it twice, in quick succession.

Trust me, after a few thousand Ks on the highways and with the excitement of the Gibb River Road but a distant memory, the idea of legging it to Darwin without making some pit stops was a none too appealing prospect.  A girl can only take so much bitumen and tumbleweed.

So, next stop was Halls Creek, home to Wolfe Creek crater and the most friendly gay in the village, a chap called Simon who worked at the (none too crowded) Visitors Centre in town.

Now, if the movie is anything to go by, I wasn't too keen on ending up as a "head on a stick" at the hands of a psycho Aussie pseudo-mechanic, and frankly I couldn't afford the repair bills if Randy gave up the ghost and ended up in pieces.  It was lucky then that a small company offered flights over the meteorite crater as it no doubt saved me from certain death, and Randy from another 300kms of corrugations.

The sticking point in my plan was that the pilot was only prepared to head to the skies if two people were up for the flight.  By this point, money was running low, and I was the only Randy-ite who was keen.  After a bit of cajoling, though, Tomo was on board, and soon we headed to the air strip to meet a rather dashing pilot, Tom.

I'd never been in a light aircraft before, and I'd certainly never been in one with a handsome man by my side.  As the conversation flowed, I told Tom that I was keen to work on a cattle station in the outback for a few months and before we'd even reached the crater he'd set me up for a job on one.  It took every ounce of strength in my gut not to vomit from the twists and turns of the plane in front of a man who a) had potential and b) could rescind his offer of work at any time.

Before long though, and sans vomit, the two Toms and I soared over the 850 metre wide Wolfe Creek Crater, which, for those not in the know, was formed about 300,000 years ago by an iron meteorite (yes, I managed to listen).  Its vastness could only truly be appreciated from the air.

Back on land, I realised that in the space of a few hours I'd seen a natural phenomenon,  secured a job and spared myself from murder.  It truly had been a good day in the land of Oz.
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