We left the coast behind this morning, trading the salty air of Cleaverville for the dust and drama of the inland tracks. Before we could really disappear into the scrub, though, we had to run the gauntlet in Karratha. It felt like every traveller in the Pilbara had the same idea at the exact same time. We found ourselves in a proper queue just to top up the water tanks, followed by a quick dash through Coles to make sure the pantry was stocked for the days ahead.

Joining the queue for water in Karratha—everyone had the same idea today.
Joining the queue for water in Karratha—everyone had the same idea today.

Once we finally cleared the edge of town and turned toward the Chichester Ranges, the landscape really started to put on a show. The road snakes its way through these incredible gaps in the hills, where the red rock is so vibrant it almost looks painted on. I found myself slowing down just to take in the sheer scale of the rock faces, which are draped in that tough-as-nails spinifex that seems to thrive on nothing but heat and grit.

The winding road cutting through the spectacular red rock of the Chichester Ranges.
The winding road cutting through the spectacular red rock of the Chichester Ranges.
The rugged, spinifex-covered hills that define this part of the country.
The rugged, spinifex-covered hills that define this part of the country.

The further we pushed along Warlu Road, the quieter things became. There’s a particular kind of peace you find out here when the horizon stretches out forever and the only company you have is the occasional cloud of dust from a vehicle way up ahead. Lisa and I spent most of the drive just pointing out the changing colours of the dirt—shifting from a pale ochre to a deep, burnt crimson as we got closer to the heart of the park.

A long stretch of red road heading deep into the outback.
A long stretch of red road heading deep into the outback.

By the time we pulled into the camp at Millstream Chichester National Park, the heat of the day was just starting to lose its edge. We found a great little spot tucked under the trees, and it didn't take us long to get the chairs out. There’s nothing quite like that first sit-down after a few hours on the road, watching the light filter through the gums while the outback settles in around you. Lisa was straight into her book, and I was happy just to sit and listen to the birds.

Settled in for the afternoon under the shade at our Millstream campsite.
Settled in for the afternoon under the shade at our Millstream campsite.

As the sun began to dip, we wandered over to have a look at the old heritage station buildings. You can really feel the history of the place standing amongst those weathered corrugated iron walls. It’s a tough bit of country to have made a living in, and the old homestead and outbuildings have this rugged, honest beauty about them.

The old heritage buildings at Millstream Station glowing in the late afternoon light.
The old heritage buildings at Millstream Station glowing in the late afternoon light.

We stayed out there as the sky turned a soft violet, watching the moon rise over the old station roof. It was one of those perfectly still moments where everything feels a world away. It’s good to be back in the red dirt.

The moon rising over the weathered iron of the historic homestead.
The moon rising over the weathered iron of the historic homestead.

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