I misjudged it and drove into it with left wheels in the hole.

I stopped when the significant lean to the left became a little too much for comfort.

I chose to climb up the left and straddle the hole. An alternative would have been to reverse and follow all the sensible people who drove on the right.

The single line in the sand on the left of the track is from a mountain bike. With very fat wheels. We met a couple with bikes on their landcruiser at Bishop Riley's Pulpit. One rode while the other drove. At least 3 hours cycle per day.

Hummocks instead of circles.

Isn't nature wonderful.

Though perhaps if we dig a bit.

He knew where the border is.

We are lazy and rely on gps.

No longer Unnamed.

There's a long string of lakes, like a string of beads. We are nearly at the northern end.

In days gone by, the Palaeozoic (250-500 million years ago) they were part of a drainage channel. But no longer.

We didn't look for, so we didn't find, any tektites. 

And camp.

Camel tracks in the salt.