A huge road train is tearing along a dirt road on a remote cattle station in the Northern Territory. Behind the wheel, singing country songs and with a tiny dog balanced on her knee, is Raine Holcombe.

From the outset she seems a force to be reckoned with. She navigates the truck through a flooded creek crossing, aided by a loader pulling at the front.

She doesn't see herself as anything special, and just has a "get the job done" approach to things.

"I grew up on a remote cattle station but we had a crocodile farm there so, isolation, I've been used to that all my life and I love it," she said.

Raine Holcombe loads cattle into a truck. ( ABC News: Kristy O'Brien )

"I think it's just necessity really to continue on, you get thrown in the deep end but to keep moving."

Ms Holcombe runs a contract mustering crew with her husband in northern Australia, travelling to remote stations to bring in their cattle from thousands of kilometres of far-flung bushland.

They are then processed at yards — putting on ear tags, vaccinating cattle, castrating bulls and dehorning the animals.

In order to do this they must live rough for months at a time, only seeing each other, relying completely on the supplies they bring and with no access to electricity, fresh water or communications.

"We travel to various stations and conduct all the cattle work that's required … we camp out all the time so normally we travel to a set of yards or bore and we set up for possibly a couple of weeks to complete the mustering within the paddocks."

Sunrise as the mustering crew get to work. ( ABC News: Kristy O'Brien )

Extremely dry year brings uncertainty

Ms Holcombe said demand has never been greater: it's an extremely dry year in the NT, and that means stations are starting to offload cattle, particularly earlier in the season.

They've had so many enquiries for work Ms Holcombe and her husband had to split across two camps.

She's in charge of a crew of five at one station, while he works a few hundreds kilometres away at another, and they haven't seen each other in weeks.

Contract musterers spend weeks rounding up cattle in remote NT. ( ABC News: Kristy O'Brien )

"I wouldn't say people are panicking, but they have got into mustering earlier and they are destocking and that's led to a lot of work earlier," she said.

"I can't really say what the second half of the year will bring for us."

In her crew are two couples and a young woman. They've only just started working together this year, but it's a life they all are resolutely in love with.

Learning the ropes

Matt Ernever grew up in the Northern Territory with his dad working in remote Indigenous ranger camps.

He left school at 16 and has worked on stations ever since.

"I grew up in the bush, family always travelled through Arnhem Land … so [it's] just sort of in the blood."

The crews will often travel huge distances to load their cattle onto trucks. ( ABC News: Kristy O'Brien )

Brit Morice grew up on a dairy farm in Tasmania but came north four years ago, and also is in love with the simplicity of this life.

She said she had no plans to move on.

"It's hard work but it's rewarding, that's why I love it."

Ashley Bail is the youngest member, but her lack of age doesn't beget a lack of skill and she's quick to jump in the ring with a fierce bull or try to move on a cranky cow.

"Just the lifestyle being able to be like a little family, I like the job chasing cows, it's pretty fun. You never know what will happen every day."

Herding hundreds or thousands of cattle

The second day with the mustering crew brings a change of scenery, as they pack up their temporary camp and move to the next station, Victoria River Downs (VRD).

It is station that was once 41,000 square kilometres, making it the largest pastoral lease in the world.

It's now smaller, at 8,900 square kilometres.

Their job at VRD will be mustering hundreds, if not thousands, of cattle.

No matter the challenge, it's hard to see them not living up to it.

Escaping the daily grind

As the sun fades, and they all lumber back into camp covered in all kinds of livestock bodily fluids and dust, they can sit down and rest for a moment.

But for Ms Holcombe, it's more jobs. She cooks dinner for the crew, freezing large batches to make things go further.

Every season she must think ahead and calculate exactly how much bread, flour, vegetables and meat she'll need to survive out bush for days on end.

These cattle have been mustered from remote areas in the NT. ( ABC News: Kristy O'Brien )

But she's not one to complain. Her advice for those thinking of a taking a turn as a roving cattle worker is simple: give it a shot, and you just might not ever return to the daily grind of city life.

"For someone in the city looking at something like this, it's for the lifestyle.

"I don't think you come here to earn big money but if you want to work hard and put in the days and learn some incredible skills and meet great people, then I'd give it a go.

"I think if you have a lot of common sense and [are] quick at picking up things, you'll fit right in."