Outback 4WD Adventure to Cameron Corner

Cobar's the last reasonably priced place to fill up before heading into the interior, so we load up on diesel and lolly snakes as we trundle out of town, following the Barrier Highway. This is a bitumen section all the way to Willcania, but the landscape starts to open up, the trees become sparser and the driving is good. 

We following the Barrier Highway to Willcania before continuing on to White Cliffs along Opal Miners Way.

We roll into Wilcannia for an early lunch and to let the kids play in the park. By the looks of the traffic driving through town, plenty of people still don't stop in the little outback outpost, maybe because of the poor reputation the town's got as a result of poor government decisions and unflattering news reports. In reality, it's a charming, friendly town where you can get a good coffee, enjoy a few pleasant short walks and even do a bit of historic sight-seeing, with most of the significant buildings constructed in the late 1800s. The Wilcannia Athenaeum Library, now the Pioneer Museum, is the best place to visit if you're passing through in a hurry. 

We continue on to White Cliffs along Opal Miners Way.

We continue on to White Cliffs along Opal Miners Way, barely a single lane of bitumen through red, treeless country. In testamant to the amazing things you see when you're in the outback, we come across a convoy of Model T Fords, all of which have just travelled out to Cameron Corner themselves braving the corrugations and gibbers in their 90-year old automobiles, motorhomes and camper trailers. And we thought we'd be roughing it a little in our Prado Kakadu and Kimberley Kamper.

White Cliffs is one of Australia's four distinct opal mining towns – the others are Coober Pedy, Lightning Ridge and Andamooka – and if it sparks your interest, you can fossick for the rare stones on any unregistered bit of ground anywhere in the White Cliffs region. 

You can fossick for the rare stones or you just buy one from any of the opal stores around town.

Or, like the sensible people, you can just buy one from any of the opal stores in and around town, or take a tour of the mines. For us, not really that interested in opals, we finally let down our tyres and hit some dirt, searching for our next campsite, known descriptively on wikicamps as ‘Gravel pit'. 

Gravel pit, about 40km from White Cliffs and for all its grandeur, was exactly the sort of place we were looking for. Surrounded by big open sky and with plenty of room for a camp fire to do Hades proud, we settled in for the sort of night outback campsites are made for. Tall stories, slow-cooked meals and the keen knowledge that it's socially acceptable to enjoy a few more beers here than it would have been at home by ourselves.

The track out from Tibooburra is the sort we've come all this way to experience. It's red, rough, dusty and corrugated. It's the sort of road we can proudly complain about at camp or to our city-slicker friends who just don't understand. 

On our way from Tibooburra to Cameron Corner we pass through the dingo fence.

Not long into the day we come across our first casualty, although not one of our group. A family towing a 22-foot caravan had lost a spring and were studiously ratchet-strapping it back on as we past. With luck they'll make it back to Tibooburra to get it all stuck back together more permanently. 

Not long after we get our own casualty. Pulled up for a nature break, we notice one of the windows on a caravan is shattered and creating a breadcrumb trail for untold kilometres behind us. We surmise a rock has shattered it as we overtook a slower moving party, but there's no way to be sure. Gaffer tape and cardboard will do the trick for the next 5000km, hopefully more effectively than ratchet straps will for the earlier family. 

Just before Cameron Corner we pass through the dingo fence, the longest fence in the world. It was constructed in the 1880s and runs for nearly 5000km between the Eyre Peninsula and Jimbour in the Darling Downs to keep dingoes out of the prime sheep farming land in the south-east of Australia. I've always held a secret desire to get a job maintaining it – just driving through the outback fixing fences. What a blessedly stress-free life. 

We've made it to the bollard that divides New South Wales, Queensland and South Australia.

It's the sign we've made it, though. We're on that point of Australia that arbitrarily divides New South Wales, Queensland and South Australia. A white bollard concreted into the sand that we've travelled four days just to see. It's weird to be so happy about it, in those terms, but we are anyway. The local dog sidles up and drops a ball-shaped rock suggestively at our feet and the kids spend the next 45-minutes playing fetch while those driving V8s fill up again.

The Corner Store, as it's known, is a respite from the winter heat and dust. Fenn, the publican, is his usual jolly self and happily serves us a celebratory beer and burgers with the lot. The bar, like so many outback bars, has roof and walls lined with travellers' paraphernalia. Here it's five-dollar notes with a note, and other things, and hats from around the globe. 

The Corner Store, as it's known, is a respite from the winter heat and dust.

There's a tidy little campsite across from the store, all red dirt and space, with use of the showers and dunnies for a very modest fee, but we pass up the offer of hospitality, and celebrate our achievement a little further on. We end this part of the trip camped between two high sand dunes among the reddest dirt so far. 

As the sun sets we watch from the top of a dune, drinks and cheese in hand, soaking it all in. This is exactly what's so good about the outback.

What's your favourite outback destination? Tell us in the comments below.