Places We Like to Nomad: Giddy up - Brunette Downs ABC Bush Races

We are back in the Northern Territory following a bitumen ribbon road 130km to Brunette Downs Station turnoff. The road crosses endless grasslands dotted with shrinking waterholes. Flocks and flocks of inland dotterels scatter as we pass. A group of bustards loiter on the road eyeing us carefully.

A wide, 10km dirt driveway to the station then branches off to the ABC racecourse surrounded with campsites. We set up next to the powerbox which soon resembles a Christmas tree as all manner of rigs rock up to plug in. Only 14 get power - the rest spread out unpowered.

A, B, C are the initials of the three big stations (Brunette Downs, Alexandria, and the former Cresswell Downs) in the region which each have large campsites with their horses unloaded from transporters.

Riders jog past, cattle trains arrive with the campdraft cattle. Dust and woodsmoke mingle in the air as a fiery sunset enthrals groups of cheery drinkers.

The beauty continues as dawn breaks in a blaze of red and orange for the 6.30am campdraft. The sun rises in splendour on fabulous, backlit spurts of dust from hatted jack- and jillaroos cutting out and chasing frisky heifers with twitchy tails held high. This is the way the Territory rolls!

At midday, the bar and the Tote are open, bets are laid, a lively Calcutta auction gets the station staff vying with each other, then the racing begins.

Hearts flutter as the horses thunder in a cloud of dust down the straight to pass the cheering crowd at the finishing line.

At twilight, all the jill- and jackaroos gather for the Barkly Challenge, a hilarious, spoof enactment of their daily life. The whistle blows: from a horizontal start lying on a swag, the competitors race to put on boots, throw a can of water over their head, drink a full can of milk powder and weetbix, drive in a post, mount a mechanical horse, then run like hell to the finish. The crowd, holding beers and clearly lubricated, whoops and hollers. Winners, losers, don't care, retire to the bar to celebrate another festive day.

As the sun goes down next day, the Territory-style rodeo kicks off with poddy bulls and their tiny riders. Next are big, nasty bulls ready to rock n roll the plucky riders, one of whom hits the ground hard and lies flat on his back. The crowd goes aah and ooh as the medics do what they do, then the rider rises from the dead to much jubilation.

After the bronco bulls come the buckjumpers. Some trot so demurely, with not a buck in sight, they necessitate a reride where a really vicious, twisting, roaring, replacement horse bends in a u-shape to flick away the rider like swatting aside a fly.

End of the evening sees the unique, Brunette Downs calf throwing event when two-man or two-girl teams of jill- or jackaroos race to bring down their calf. One member of the team hangs on for dear life to the neck, the other member grasps the tail in a valiant effort to flip the animal over onto the ground.

Multiple teams compete simultaneously with hilarious results that fire up the crowd. As the calf knocks one contestant off its neck, it then takes the other contestant who is gripping its tail for a high speed ski-ride in a cloud of dust.

Racing is a spectator sport that entices onlookers to jump into boats on top of utes, pass around the goon bag, hop up onto the spectator stands, shout your lungs hoarse, and swallow a lot of dust!

Last day of the races is dress up time for the crowds and a last chance to have a punt on your pick. Ladies dress in bright reds, oranges, pinks, greens, with fascinators to match; men wear a smart shirt and tie. Stallions admire the fillies, some are hot to trot, others are feeling the effects of propping up the bar in the heat of the afternoon sun.

Last events for the last race day are the finals of the tug-of-war where the winners have a massive to and fro before prevailing; the kiddies' lollies race and the Barkly Challenge finals where the ladies gag on a disgusting brekkie washed down with a beer!

One of the joys of attending racing events is the cavalcade of elegant, not so elegant, humorous, sad, smiling, even inebriated characters that wander, wobble and canter past you.