Travel: Simpson Desert

Take a look at the four-wheel drives and RVs plying the Simpson Desert these days and you could be forgiven for thinking an off-road adventure like this demands a mega-bucks investment.

Expensive off-road rigs are now commonplace, but when I decided to take my family across the Simpson's roughly 1100 dunes, I also set out to prove the task was entirely achievable for a relatively modest sum.

A quality second-hand vehicle, freshly serviced and fitted out with a pragmatic array of accessories, will still get the job done, while a family tent is a heck of a lot cheaper than your average off-road camper (and a whole lot easier to lug over the sand!).

With our 2007 Toyota Prado freshly serviced and sporting a new set of all-terrain tyres -- click here for a detailed look at our vehicle and trip preparations – we loaded up and headed for the outback Queensland township of Birdsville, the traditional start (or end) of most Simpson crossings.

Tight schedule

We were on a tight school-holiday timeline and so we didn't muck about. Our evening departure from Melbourne was followed by a night in Jerilderie, NSW, and a second stop in Cunnamulla, Qld, with a final push through Quilpie and Windorah to Birdsville.

Pulling up alongside the Birdsville Pub just after dark, with 2150 kilometres already under our wheels, just getting there was an adventure in itself. Queensland's Channel Country had been a big safari park, with kangaroos, emus and wandering stock an ever-present danger. From Windorah, however, the low savannah made way for a board-flat landscape, with little more than low salt bush peppering the arid countryside.

To be honest, I'd had a bee in my bonnet about crossing the Simpson Desert for years. Eighteen years ago I'd got halfway across on a dirt bike as part of a guided tour, until a companion came off on a dune and shattered his femur, the resulting evacuation seeing us return to Birdsville.

Now I had the opportunity to complete the job under my own steam, only this time on four wheels and with a wife and two kids in tow.

Friends and family

Sharing the experience were two of my high school mates, Dean and Doug, along with their respective wives and, in Doug's case, a further three kids. Dean and Danielle were in a later-model 150 Series Prado and no stranger to off-road adventures, while Doug and Nicole were venturing into the wilds for the first time, their Volkswagen Amarok largely in stock trim save for its canopy and new all-terrain tyres.

Our two-night stay in Birdsville gave us plenty of time to make final preparations, like fit the mandatory sand flag and lower our tyre pressures, and reorganize our cargo so tools and recovery gear were easily accessible.

Then, after the obligatory photo of our vehicles out the front of the Birdsville Hotel, we passed the ominous warning sign outside the Birdsville police station and headed out to Nappanerica, better known as Big Red. Generally regarded as the tallest dune in the Simpson, it's also the first (or last) dune to be traversed on a Simpson crossing.

Under pressure

We tackled the harder of the two routes over Big Red and got our first taste of the thrill of sand driving. If you're not accustomed to the stuff, rest assured that after a Simpson crossing you will be – and you'll be an expert in tyre pressures too.

Running appropriate pressures is key. 'Airing down' allows the tyres to 'bag out', lengthening each one's contact patch and thereby improving traction on the soft surface. However, the lower you go, the greater the risk of staking a tyre's sidewall or rolling a tyre off its bead when cornering. It's a balancing act.

Pressures vary according to tyre manufacturer recommendations and loads, but we run our Prado's BFGs at 25-30psi on outback roads, before dropping them to 18psi in the Simpson and eventually 15psi to help get over the trickiest dunes – the ones that had big dips or S-bends on their approach, which robbed vital momentum.

That momentum is key: you want just enough to make it up to a dune's crest, before backing off so you don't end up in orbit (the best way to break something). The tracks across the Simpson are not gazetted roads and so standard roadside assistance, like that provided by the NRMA, RACV, RACQ etc, doesn't apply.

If the worst does come to pass, the Birdsville Roadhouse can send out its old 4x4 MAN flatbed truck, but be warned that even a shorter recovery will run to thousands of dollars…

The bottom line is, a well-prepped vehicle and the ability to affect common repairs is vital. We carried a range of basic tools and spares and a tow rope, just in case.

Warning signs

While the Simpson's remoteness has a big implications mechanically, it potentially has even bigger implications medically – an aspect that's especially highlighted when kids are involved. In short, if faecal matter ascends to the ceiling-mounted oscillator, you're a long way from help.

Large sections of the Simpson are closed to visitors from December 1 to March 15, when daytime maximum temperatures are extreme, although with an arid climate it can still be hot in mid-winter (the warm days tempered by freezing nights).

So, take plenty of food and water, including some spare in case you're stranded for a few days. An EPIRB (emergency personal indicating radio beacon) is also cheap insurance, as is a high frequency radio or, even better, a sat-phone (which can be hired from the Birdsville roadhouse or, on the western side, Mount Dare station).

Also take a comprehensive first-aid kit and educate your kids about the desert – don't go sticking your hand down burrows, don't go wandering off out of sight of the campsite, etc.

Changing landscape

Many assume the Simpson to be a featureless, empty expanse, but for me nothing could be further from the truth. This is the world's largest sand desert, bigger even than Africa's Sahara, and the prevailing westerly winds mean the dunes change from being taller and with wider valleys between them in the east, to lower and closer together in the west.

So the scenery slowly changes and the driving with it, while in the eastern half in particular the dunes are frequently punctuated by dry salt lakes.

The first night in the desert starts what soon becomes a familiar routine – find somewhere to camp (legally anywhere within 50 metres of one of the main tracks), set up, cook dinner and then relax around the campfire, beneath a breathtaking, star-studded night sky.

I invested the princely sum of $2.99 into a night sky app on my iPhone, which kept the kids (and adults) enthralled for night after night. Dean, meanwhile, brought along a little kit that, with the help of an air compressor and a little water, converted a 1.25lt soft drink bottle into a rocket. Streaking almost out of sight in the afternoon sunshine, it had the kids scouring the nearby dune for ages…

Food essentials

Food prep is a subject all its own, but don't think for a minute that an expensive fridge-freezer is an outback touring essential. We spent $250 dollars on a quality cooler, and with our dry freeze sheets found we could still enjoy a cold beer – and fresh food – for up to eight days on the road.

My wife prepared things like bolognaise sauce, chicken casserole and chilli con carne in advance, before vacuum sealing and freezing them for the trip ahead. It's not too hard to eat well, even in the back of beyond…

We pushed west along the QAA line to Poeppel Corner, where you can enjoy the novelty of circling a trig marker and crossing three states: Queensland, the Northern Territory and South Australia. Then, with that box ticked, it was down the K1 line to the French line, before turning south along the Knolls Track to the WAA line.

Track choice

There are three main tracks running east-west across the Simpson, their odd names tracing back to the seismic surveys of the oil and gas companies that explored the region in the 1960s and '70s.

The French Line is the most direct and the most northerly of the three, but also the most difficult – especially when heading west and climbing the steeper leeward side of the dunes.

Further south is the WAA Line, while further south again is the Rig Road. These two routes are far quieter than the French Line, which in the era of the Grey Nomad – and of very capable and reliable four-wheel drives – can become quite busy at times.

We took the WAA Line in an effort to escape the crowds heading east along the French Line to attend the annual Big Red Bash. This event, billed by organisers as 'The most remote music festival in the world', is staged each July near Big Red, and allows thousands of like-minded people to get together and collectively avoid the peace and serenity for which the Simpson is renowned. Or that might just be the cynic coming out in me…

Our average speed increased once on the Knolls Track because we were travelling between the dunes and not over them, for much of the time skirting a massive salt lake.

So named for the nearby Approdinna Attora Knolls – large mounds bright, white gypsum that lie in stark contrast with the ochre-red surrounds – the Knolls Track eventually delivered us to the turnoff for the WAA Line.

This route delivered on its promise: sometimes we travelled for hours without seeing another party, while the dunes proved challenging enough without holding us up for too long.

Off-road education

The Prados were in their element out here, and with lift kits and off-road suspension both Dean and I seldom found ourselves reversing back down a dune for another go. Doug found the going a little more challenging in the Amarok with its lower clearance, but on the handful of occasions that it did get stuck the recovery tracks had it on its way in short order, and only once did we resort to a snatch strap to haul it over the top of one particularly troublesome dune.

For any committed driver, tackling sand dunes is a truck-load of fun – just remember to set your UHF radio to channel 10 and occasionally announce your party's position and heading, lest you meet a similarly enthusiastic aficionado head-on over a summit.

That's why that sand flag is mandatory – the brief warning it provides of an approaching vehicle could make all the difference.

You soon get a handle on the appropriate technique, too – ease off the throttle before any big dips, then power on up the hill, riding the vehicle's torque wave. We were in low third or fourth for milder dunes, low second for steeper ones.

And should you grind to a halt, jump off that accelerator – it only takes a split second to find yourself axle-deep in sand, which just means more effort to dig yourself out…

Desert challenge

Crossing the Simpson, a distance of between 450 to 500 kilometres depending on the route you take, really is a challenge – so while the ultimate reward for those heading east is a beer at the Birdsville Pub, for us it was washing away the dust of the previous four days with a soak in the natural hot springs at Dalhousie.

Fed by the Great Artesian Basin and at an average temperature of 36 degrees C, words can't describe the sensation of luxuriating in those sublime waters, secure in the knowledge you have completed one of Australia's epic off-road adventures.

Dalhousie marked the end of our Simpson adventure but only the halfway point for our total trip, which went on to include a night at Oodnadatta, two nights at Coober Pedy and two at Roxby Downs, the latter encompassing a tour of BHP's massive Olympic Dam mine.

We bid our friends farewell at Coober Pedy and continued on our way, giving in to the unforgiving pull of the city and all it entails – work, school, the daily grind…

Shoestring budget

As for cost, we really did get away with this trip on a shoestring. Our second-hand Prado did a superb job and never skipped a beat. We stayed in budget motels on the way to Birdsville and then spent two nights camping in the Birdsville Caravan Park.

The mandatory Desert Parks Pass ($160) covers camping in the Simpson and a night at Dalhousie Springs too. Given we regularly cooked for ourselves over the course of this trip and spent most nights in a tent, our biggest single expense was fuel – which totalled just over $1300 for the entire 5100km trip.

Yes, budget permitting you can easily spend six figures on a flash new four-wheel drive and camper trailer, stay in upmarket hotels and eat out when possible, but rest assured you can still take the family on an outback odyssey like without taking out a second mortgage!

Summing up

Crossing the Simpson Desert shouldn't be taken lightly, but for those who make the effort it's an unforgettable experience that will challenge your notions of this vast land – a land where the majority cling to a thin coastal fringe, far from Australia's red heart.

However, it's that red heart where, I believe, you'll find the true Australia, and discovering it with your family is truly special. What's more, with a little planning and preparation, it doesn't have to cost the earth – and in terms of 'experience' versus 'expenditure', a Simpson crossing is hard to beat.