T-Team Next Generation–Central Australia Revisited

‘Definitely cattle country,’ I remarked as we passed a huge bull carcass by the roadside. Another sign warning of wandering cattle zipped past.
One and a half hour’s on and the flat road became hilly, twisting and turning, up and down as if a rollercoaster. ‘I don’t remember this,’ I said. ‘Oh, that’s right, the other times I visited Glen Helen, we hiked through the back way along the Finke.’

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The T-Team With Mr. B (30)

In the front, Mr. B spread a detailed map over his knees and dashboard.
‘I say, ol’ chap,’ Mr. B cleared his throat, ‘where, exactly are you taking us?’
‘Mount Liebig bore,’ Dad replied.
‘Are you sure we can get there without our trusty guides?’
‘Eventually, we have the map.’
‘But, where’s the road?’

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SALA Special

Settling near a waterhole framed by reeds. Dad built up a fire on the coarse sand while our family friend, TR rolled up his trousers and dipped his toes in the pool. ‘Hey!’ He pointed and did a little dance. ‘A fish! I see a fish!’

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Ernabella

I clutched my stomach. ‘Dad, I’m hungry.’
‘Later,’ he promised.
However, later produced no food. My famished state evolved into near starvation.
‘Dad!’ I moaned. ‘I’m hungry!’
‘Not just yet.’ Dad hurried up the main road.
Shuffling behind him, I muttered, ‘If you won’t, I’ll get it myself.’

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Disrupt Sleep

The wind worked its gusty fingers under the stiff plastic and lifted it into the air. I caught the sheet and held it down. Cold blasts froze my fingers. The wind flapped the end bits making my toes turn to ice.

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