Day 21 – 10 August 2025: Resupply & Rugged Roads
This morning, we packed up camp and rolled into Tom Price, the Pilbara’s pocket-sized hub of civilisation. With our food and water supplies running low, Coles on Central Road became our oasis—bright lights, stocked shelves, and the sweet hum of refrigeration. After days in the bush, even the cereal aisle felt like a luxury.
While heading into the shops, we noticed that Susanne and Corinne Meyer—visiting from Switzerland and speaking German—had a flat tyre. When we returned with our groceries, it was still deflated, and they were clearly having a tough time. So we jumped in to lend a hand. Between bursts of broken German and plenty of shared smiles, the tyre was soon changed and they were back on the road, ready to roll.
Once restocked and rehydrated, we pointed the GPS toward a remote campsite in Karijini National Park, ready to trade checkout lines for red dirt and solitude. The route? A glorious stretch of 4WD heaven. Rutted tracks, rocky climbs, and the kind of terrain that makes you grateful for every inch of clearance. The truck didn’t flinch—took it all in stride like the seasoned beast it is, growling through the dust with quiet confidence.
The drive itself was half the adventure. Spinifex blurred past the windows, the sun threw long shadows across the track, and every bump felt like a handshake from the outback. By the time we reached camp, we were dusty, grinning, and ready to kick back under the wide Karijini sky.
Days 22/25 – 11/14 August 2025: Snappy Gums, Riverbeds & a Visitor
Some places don’t just offer peace—they cradle you in it. Our remote camp, tucked deep in the outback, gifted us four days of quiet magic where time softened and the land spoke in whispers.
We spent our days wandering the escarpments, tracing ancient rock lines and discovering hidden waterholes that shimmered like secrets. The landscape was dotted with Snappy Gums—those striking white-trunked eucalypts that seem to glow against the red earth. Their smooth bark and twisted limbs gave the place a ghostly elegance, like nature’s own sculptures frozen mid-dance.
One of our favourite walks took us down the dry riverbeds, where the terrain shifted from stone to sand and the silence deepened. Each bend held a new story—driftwood, animal tracks, and the occasional burst of greenery where water once lingered. It felt like walking through the memory of rain.
And then—a visitor. Early one morning, as the sun stretched across the land and the air still held its cool hush, a local dingo appeared. It moved with quiet confidence, pausing just long enough for us to notice its golden coat and alert eyes. Not threatening, just curious. It lingered briefly, then melted back into the scrub, leaving behind a ripple of wonder. A gentle reminder that out here, we’re never truly alone.
Evenings brought their own kind of magic. We sat beneath a sky so clear it felt infinite, watching satellites drift silently overhead, tracing their paths like slow-moving stars. The kind of stargazing that makes you forget time altogether.
These days were stunning in their simplicity. No schedules, no noise—just the rhythm of the land and the joy of being present. We walked, we planned a bit more of Thailand, we watched the world turn slowly overhead. And we felt lucky. So very lucky.
Day 26 – 15 August 2025: Farewell to Paradise, Hello Mount Sheila
All good things must pause—at least long enough to restock. Today marked our reluctant farewell to our peaceful hideaway, where Snappy Gums whispered in the wind and dingoes made dawn visits. We packed up slowly, soaking in the last moments of quiet before returning to the hum of civilisation.
First stop: the supermarket. A jolt back into fluorescent lighting and trolley traffic, where we filled the fridge (now functioning, thank heavens) and topped up the water tanks, ready for the next leg. It was a necessary reset—fuel for both body and journey.
From there, we wound our way back to Mount Sheila, a familiar perch in the Pilbara. The drive was smooth, the scenery reliably stunning, and the evening light cast long shadows across the ranges. Mount Sheila welcomed us like an old friend—rugged, quiet, and just remote enough to feel like we hadn’t quite left paradise behind.
We settled in for the night, grateful for the rhythm of the road: wild one day, practical the next, and always leading somewhere worth writing about.
Days 27/30 – 15/19 August 2025: Tracks, Cracks & Thai Chats
The Hamersley Ranges continue to steal our breath and fill our days with awe. Over these three days, we dove deeper into this rugged beauty—4WDing along remote tracks, winding through iron-rich hills and ancient escarpments that shimmered in the afternoon light. Each turn revealed something new: a hidden camp, a sweeping view, or a patch of spinifex glowing gold.
We found some fantastic campsites, tucked away in quiet corners where the only company was the wind and the occasional bird call. The kind of places that make you whisper instead of talk, just to match the mood.
Of course, no adventure is complete without a hiccup. This time, it was a cracked water supply line—a small fracture with big implications. But Steve, ever the resourceful co-pilot, managed to track down a replacement T-piece thanks to the good folks at the Men’s Shed in Pannawonica. A quick fix, a bit of banter, and we were back in business. It’s moments like these that remind us how generous and connected these remote communities can be.
And speaking of connection—we’ve been amazed by how many Thai people we’ve met in the Pilbara. From casual chats at roadhouses to shared smiles at campsites, each encounter has been a warm reminder of Thailand, sparking conversations about food, festivals, and family. There’s something comforting about finding pieces of another culture in the heart of the outback.
These days were a perfect blend of exploration and restoration—of both gear and spirit. The Hamersleys continue to surprise us, not just with their landscapes, but with the people who pass through them.
We also managed to get 3 star cracks in the windscreen – something we have managed to avoid for years. These 3 chips occurred within 1 hours of each other – ouch!
Days 31/36 – 19/24 August 2025: Beach, Sunsets and Ice cream
After weeks of red dust, rocky trails, and outback magic, it was time to swap the ochres for ocean blues. We packed up in Pannawonica, waved goodbye to the iron-rich hills, and pointed our wheels toward the coast—next stop: Onslow!
Set on the shimmering salt flats of the Indian Ocean, Onslow greeted us with wide skies, salty breezes, and a slower rhythm that felt like a deep exhale. We found a peaceful campsite just outside town, where the horizon stretched endlessly and the sunsets turned the sky into a painter’s palette—fiery oranges, soft purples, and golden glows that melted into the sea. Sunrise was just as spectacular, especially when paired with a steaming cuppa and the distant calls of seabirds.
Each day began with a gentle stroll along the boardwalk, toes tapping to the rhythm of the waves and hearts soaking in the cool coastal air. It was the kind of place where time loosened its grip and every moment felt like a postcard.
And then came Jane—our daily dose of delight! She’s the local ice cream van maestro, and as fate would have it, she’d just become the proud new owner of Daryl and Kathy’s legendary Amesz truck. That connection sparked instant camaraderie, and soon Jane was swinging by each afternoon with sweet treats, cheeky banter, and stories from the road. Ice cream diplomacy at its finest!
We explored the local museum, a treasure trove of quirky artifacts and salty tales from Onslow’s past. One evening, we fired up the BBQ right on the beach, grilling dinner as the sun dipped low and the stars began their nightly dance. It was pure magic.
Mother Nature threw us a curveball one night with a surprise downpour, and we had to shift our campsite to avoid getting bogged in the mud. But hey, that’s all part of the adventure—and it gave us a chance to scout a new spot with even better views!
One of our favourite moments? Photographing the salt pans at dawn. The stars were still twinkling overhead as the first light crept in, casting surreal reflections across the flats. It felt like standing inside a dream.
As the weather began to shift and whispers of change rustled through the breeze, we made the call to head out on the evening of 24 August, beginning our homeward journey with hearts full and memory cards even fuller.
Onslow, you salty gem—you gave us sunsets, stars, stories, and ice cream. We’ll be back.
Days 37/38 – 25/26 August 2025: The Homeward Journey
With the west coast skies brewing up a storm, we made the call—it was time to hit the road and begin the long trek home. The red dirt may have faded in the rearview mirror, but the memories were packed tight in the back seat, along with a few stubborn grains of Pilbara dust that refused to be left behind.
The drive was a mix of sunshine and scattered showers, the kind that makes the landscape shimmer and the road feel like it’s leading straight into a watercolour painting. We clocked up the kilometres, windows down when the sun peeked through, wipers working overtime when the clouds rolled in.
We pulled up for the night just north of Geraldton, where the rain gave us a brief reprieve and the stars made a surprise appearance. One last night under the wide Western sky, with the hum of the ocean in the distance and the comforting clink of mugs around the camp stove.
By the afternoon of 26 August, we rolled back into home base—dusty, happy, and full of stories. The journey may be over, but the adventures (and the photo sorting!) are just beginning.