As fast as the hill allows.
Leave Adelaide at half past twelve. Over the top at about half past ten on the second morning, walking in the gorge by a quarter past eleven, and back in Adelaide by seven.
Why the hill decidesTwo to four days by rail from Adelaide in a short train of restored carriages: north through the Mid North to the Flinders Ranges, and west to the top of the Gulf. A cabin to sleep in, dinner in the dining car, and a walk or a drive off the train every day.
Drawn at one to a hundred, from the end suite forward to the locomotive. Drag along it to walk the train.
A short train, on purpose.
Five restored carriages behind one locomotive: the van, the dining car, the lounge car and two sleeping cars, the second with the suite at its end. About twenty-four people travel, with a crew who know the line.
The carriages are timber inside and brass wherever your hand goes: the window catches, the luggage rails, the lamp by your berth. They were built to be looked after, and we look after them. Blinds are cloth, windows open a hand’s width, and the floors are quiet underfoot.
A short train can stop where something is worth stopping for: a creek for the afternoon, a siding at the foot of the Ranges, a lookout at the end of a track. Your bags ride in the van, so the cabin is yours.
There’s a climb on the way into the Ranges from the south that decides how long the train can be. You’ll meet it on the second morning.
Front to back
- The locomotive
- A plain diesel, one driver and one to watch the road ahead.
- The van
- Bags, water, the walking kit and the kitchen’s stores.
- The dining car
- The kitchen at one end, tables for two and four down the other.
- The lounge car
- Armchairs, the tea counter and a shelf of field guides.
- The first sleeping car
- Four singles and four twins, showers at the end.
- The second sleeping car
- Four singles, three twins, and the suite across the end of the train.
The Mid North
The first afternoon is wheat country: stubble going grey-gold, red gums along the creeks, the hills getting rounder. We stop by a creek for the afternoon, a walk under the gums and tea on the bank, and move on as the light goes long.
Sleeping car
Eight compartments in the second sleeping car, all on the side that faces the Ranges going north. Choose one on the plan.
Single
One berth that’s a seat by day and a bed by night, a basin under a timber lid, and a window to yourself. We make it up while you’re at dinner.
Shown by day: the seat with its back up.
Twin
Two berths, one above the other, with a ladder that folds flat. The upper folds away by day, and the lower is a seat for two with the window between you.
Shown ready for the night: the seat back lifted to make the upper berth.
End suite
The last room on the train: a proper double bed across the end of the car and windows looking back down the line. If you like watching where you’ve been, it’s this one.
A writing desk under the side window, and room to stand and dress.
Linen, towels and a wool blanket are on board; showers are at the end of each sleeping car. Nights in the Ranges are colder than you’d think.
The hill decides.
Every railway has one climb steeper than the rest. Railway people call it the ruling grade, because it rules: how heavy the train can be, how fast it can go, how many carriages it can pull. Ours is on the way into the Ranges from the south, and it’s why we run five carriages, not ten.
Second morning, about a quarter past ten. Climbing at 1 in 40, 31 km/h. Over the top by a quarter to eleven.
With six on, we’d stall at km 252, about four kilometres short of the top of the climb. So we run five.
Drag the train along the line, or run it from here. Then try coupling a sixth.
Two days. Second morning: breakfast at the siding, then up through the cuttings and over the top at about half past ten. We’re at the gorge by eleven and walking by a quarter past eleven, lunch in our packs. The train starts for home at three, and you’re back in Adelaide by seven.
Three days. The second day runs as the two-day journey does, walking in the gorge by a quarter past eleven, and the night is spent at the gorge siding under more stars than you’ve seen. On the third morning we run out onto the saltbush plain, there by a quarter to ten, for a drive to a lookout, then start for home at one and reach Adelaide by a quarter to six.
Four days. The Ranges on the second day, then on the third morning west across the plain, past a salt lake, and at the top of the Gulf by a quarter to eleven. A walk on the flats, a drive to the water, a night by the Gulf, and home on the fourth day, in Adelaide by two.
Times, speeds and gradients here are illustrative, drawn for this page. On the climb, heights are drawn ten times taller than they are and the train far longer, so you can see them.
Dinner is at seven.
One sitting; the tables are laid by half past six, so come through whenever you like and watch the light go off the plain. Each table seats two or four, and it’s yours for the journey.
Three courses from what we pick up along the line: Mid North lamb, whiting from the Gulf, greens from the market the morning we leave, a quandong tart when they’re in.
Tea, coffee, juice pressed that morning and cold water with every meal; the pot is refilled before you ask.
Breakfast is from seven, with the kitchen’s bread and eggs any way you like them. Lunch is aboard, or packed for the walk and carried by us.
Tell us what you don’t eat when you ask about a journey, and the kitchen will already know.
Off the train, every day.
On the second morning we’re at the gorge by eleven, and walking by a quarter past eleven, lunch in our packs. Walks are an hour to three, on creek beds and gorge tracks, at the slowest walker’s pace. A guide walks with every group and we carry the water.
Wear closed shoes with a grip that you’ve walked in, a hat with a brim and a long sleeve for the scrub; bring a layer, because the gorge floor stays cool in the shade.
If you’d rather ride, a four-wheel drive takes the track round to the lookout and meets the walkers at the top.
The lounge car is where people watch.
Armchairs turned to the windows, on both sides of the car. Tea, coffee and juice are out all day, and scones mid-morning.
A shelf of field guides to the birds and plants you’ll pass, binoculars in a drawer under it, and maps of the line to keep. A crew member is usually at the tea counter, and usually happy to say what that ridge is called. Mostly, though, people watch.
Before you go
What should I pack?
Soft bags that fit under a berth, clothes in layers, closed walking shoes you’ve already worn in, a hat with a brim, and something warm for the evenings. Linen, towels and blankets are on board.
Where does the train leave from?
The city platform in Adelaide. We’ll send the details, and the time to be there, once your journey is settled.
What is the weather like in the Ranges?
Autumn and spring are mild by day and cool at night. Winter days are clear and crisp, and the nights are cold enough for frost. Summer is too hot for walking, so we don’t run then.
What does the kitchen cook around?
Whatever you tell us: vegetarian, no gluten, no nuts, no dairy, or meat prepared a particular way. The kitchen plans every meal of the journey around it before we leave.
Is it easy to get on and off?
A step up into the carriage, and a hand from the crew whenever you want one. Walks are chosen on the day to suit the group, and the four-wheel drive is there if you’d rather ride.
Will my phone work?
There’s coverage in the Mid North and patches beyond it. In the Ranges, mostly not, which most people find they don’t mind.
The top of the Gulf
On the four-day journey the third day leaves the Ranges behind and runs west across the saltbush plain, past a salt lake white enough to squint at, to where the Gulf ends in samphire and mangroves. We’re there by a quarter to eleven, walk the flats, drive to the water, and start for home in the morning.
We’ll reply with dates, what’s included and the guide price for your cabin.
Journeys run from April to October, when the Ranges are good for walking. Each one leaves from Adelaide in the middle of the day, so you can come in that morning.