Wind, wheat & wonderful ruggedness- Yorke Peninsula, SA Part 1

Days 29 - 31

The top of the Yorke Peninsula is only a couple of hours from Adelaide, but it feels a million miles away. Shaped like a leg and foot, this rugged slice of South Australia is the traditional home of the Narungga people, and its layers of history are written clearly into the land.

European pastoralists arrived in the 1840s, copper was discovered in the late 1850s - transforming the region into one of Australia’s richest mining areas - and when mining declined, the peninsula reinvented itself once again as a major producer of wheat and barley. The influence of Cornish miners is still evident today, and fun fact: it was here in 1876 that the stump‑jump plough was invented.

For us, the draw was simpler: coastline, small towns, national parks, and the promise of five slow days exploring.

We left Adelaide and headed south making quick progress down the east coast, where the drive is wonderfully contrasting - glimpses of sea to the left and vast barley and wheat fields to the right. We passed through Ardrossan, Port Vincent and Stansbury, eventually reaching Edithburgh, where parkrun awaited us on Saturday morning.

We stayed at a fantastic council campground near Wattle Point, beneath the wind farm — and it certainly lived up to its name. The turbines were in full flight, the beach was just over the dunes, the sunset was glorious, and the beach was absolutely carpeted in seaweed.

Saturday began with Edithburgh parkrun, where I unknowingly completed my 300th parkrun (only realised afterwards). I finished 11^th - one place off the top 10, which is the joy of a small parkrun - and had my first go as a roving reporter, interviewing Event Director Danielle. For those who listen to the parkrun Adventurers podcast, listen out for me in coming weeks!

A swim in the tidal pool afterwards was just delightful. We also met Edith the Clydesdale - a magnificent metal sculpture created from old tools, farm machinery, wire, fence droppers and even golf clubs, welded together using 45kg of MIG wire by artist Peter Crosby.

We love trying out country bakeries and the pies at Yorketown were very good. Lunch was followed by a stop at the pink salt lake (and a white one) just out of town on the Salt Lake Trail. From there we cut cross‑country back to the coast, passing through Foul Bay and Marion Bay, before entering Dhilba Guuranda–Innes National Park, right at the ‘foot’ of the peninsula.

Driving into the park, you crest a hill and are confronted with a breathtaking view — coastline, small bays, and islands including Chinaman’s Hat. It genuinely took our breath away.

We looked briefly at Stenhouse Bay campground were we saw our first emus but kept going - a good decision. We ended up at Cable Bay, smaller, quieter, and with fewer people. It was too cold and windy to swim, but the sunset made up for it.

Sunday morning saw me up early for sunrise - coffee in hand, sitting on cold sand - while Stephen sensibly slept in. We set out at 9.30am (early for us) to explore more of the park.

We visited Cape Spencer for more fabulous views, then Inneston, where we did the Historic Township Ruins walk (advertised as 2km, actually closer to 2.5km). It started well, but the heat dulled our enthusiasm. Fun fact for fellow teachers: Inneston was home to the Bellco chalk factory, supplying schools across Australia back when chalkboards were a thing. The chalk is a byproduct of gypsum mining which occurred in the surrounding areas. The local teacher was often asked to inspect the chalk quality and give advice whether it was too hard, too soft, too scratchy or too brittle.

Next stop was Ethel Beach, home to the rusting remains of the Norwegian ship Ethel, wrecked in 1904. The beach is stunning, the steps down plentiful to get up close and personal with the wreck, and the surf enormous. Watching the waves pound the shore, it’s a wonder more ships didn’t meet the same fate. The ocean off the Yorke Peninsula coastline is actually a wreck divers paradise.

We finished the day at West Cape, with incredible 360‑degree views and some quirky metal kangaroo installations, before camping at Shell Beach — the only people there, apart from hundreds of feral bees and a large goanna. The feral bees are considered a threat in many areas as they disrupt pollination and compete with native bees, insects and birds. A bucket of water successfully distracted the bees (though retrieving it later became a strategic operation – apparently bees don’t fly at night so an after dark stealth mission was successful). The bees returned to the same sport the next day even though we’d put other water in a different position. When we moved it back to the previous spot, the bees returned there. Clearly, more research on bee behaviour is required.

Shell Beach itself was pristine - clear blue water, shells everywhere (aptly named), and complete solitude. We swam - even Stephen - and enjoyed another night of quiet. Went searching for rock pools the next morning but the tide was not in our favour so we headed out.