Originally written October 2018
Tough life! This girl has to work on the weekend.
Well, if you have to work, you might as well mix business with pleasure.
And that was how what should have been a fairly straightforward work trip to Karumba turned into 78 hours of driving, sightseeing, fishing, getting hopelessly lost, a severe storm, an unexpected police pursuit and, potentially, catfish trafficking. 
First Stop: Undara
Our first stop was Undara, where we booked a swag tent for the night.
We had a lovely dinner, met other travellers and somehow ended up joining a trivia night.
Not exactly a terrible start to a work weekend.
The following morning, we did the lava tube tour before getting back on the road towards Karumba.
On the Road to Karumba
We stopped in Croydon for lunch before continuing on for another six hours.
By the time we arrived in Karumba, we were more than ready to sit down and enjoy a fresh coconut.
So far, this “working on the weekend” business was going remarkably well.
Sunday Morning in Karumba
And what is the best thing to do on a Sunday morning in Karumba?
Fishing!
I caught a little grassy jaw, while Letty landed an impressive 54 cm golden snapper.
I was initially a little jealous of her beautiful big fish.
That feeling disappeared later when she had to work out how to fillet a 54 cm snapper using a steak knife.
Suddenly my little fish seemed perfect.
Mine went straight into a delicious soup for lunch.
We also ended up with an esky full of catfish because everyone else in the fishing group gave us theirs.
The Road Home
On our way home, before Normanton, I hit a joey.
It upset me terribly.
We were already in a hurry and couldn’t stop for long, so I told myself I would hold it together until we reached Croydon to refuel. Then I could stop, collect myself and have a proper cry.
Unfortunately, there was one small problem.
I missed the turn-off to Croydon.
By less than a kilometre.
And somehow that tiny mistake eventually delivered us to Cloncurry four hours later, with the fuel gauge getting dangerously close to empty.
We asked around to see whether there was a shortcut from Cloncurry back towards the Savannah Way.
There wasn’t.
We were told the only option was to drive all the way back via the Burke Developmental Road.
It was already around midday, and we had accommodation booked at Innot Hot Springs for that night. From where we were, we still had roughly 844 kilometres — around nine hours of driving — ahead of us.
I decided that continuing that way was not sensible.
Driving remote roads at night has its own collection of hazards: kangaroos with absolutely no understanding of road rules and cattle that apparently consider the middle of the highway an excellent place to sleep.
If we hit something and damaged the car, we could end up stranded somewhere in the middle of nowhere.
So we changed plans.
Again.
We headed for Townsville instead.
Dinner… Eventually
As we approached Charters Towers, I told Letty we would stop there for dinner.
By then I was starving.
I desperately needed something to eat, especially because I still had to keep my eyes on the road.
And, because apparently the trip had not yet provided enough entertainment, the Flinders Highway was now experiencing a severe thunderstorm.
Heavy rain.
Lightning.
The works.
We finally reached Charters Towers at around eight o’clock, looking forward to a warm meal.
Except the town appeared to have closed.
We drove around looking for somewhere to eat and could barely find another soul.
Eventually we found a truck stop that was still open and finally got some food.
We reached our accommodation in Townsville at around 10 pm.
Surely that was the end of the adventure?
Of course not.
The Police Chase
We had a big job waiting for us on Monday, and I needed to be back in Cairns by 8 am.
So we left Townsville at about 3:30 in the morning.
The road was quiet.
It was early.
And I really wanted to get home before eight.
So I made the very poor decision to go over the speed limit.
Somewhere along the highway, I noticed a police vehicle behind us with its lights and siren on.
My first thought?
They must be responding to some serious crime.
So naturally, I slowed down to let them pass.
Except they didn’t pass.
Then they slowed down too.
I thought, Well, apparently they’re not in that much of a hurry.
So I continued driving.
They continued following.
Eventually it dawned on me.
Oh.
They weren’t rushing to a crime.
They were chasing us.
So I finally pulled over.
The officers were understandably not impressed.
One of them then made a call cancelling the backup unit that had apparently been sent to assist them.
That was the moment I realised just how ridiculous this could have become.
Imagine if I hadn’t worked it out.
A full police chase.
Backup units.
Lights.
Sirens.
Eventually they surround the car and discover that the dangerous contraband in our esky is…
catfish.
Lots and lots of catfish.
We had kept all the catfish caught by the fishing group.
I could already see the headline:
Two Women Arrested After High-Speed Catfish Trafficking Operation
Fortunately, the story ended much less dramatically.
After a rather painful $1,200 fine and a very deserved warning, we were allowed to continue.
And despite everything…
I made it home before 8 am.
Twenty hours of driving.
Around five hours of work.
Very little proper rest.
One missed turn.
One unplanned detour to Cloncurry.
A thunderstorm.
A police pursuit I didn’t realise was a police pursuit.
And an esky full of suspicious catfish.
Stories Along the Way 