THE ROUTE OF 'THE CATTLE KING' - THE KIDMAN WAY - JERILDERIE TO HILLSTON (10 APRIL 2017)

Joy, oh joy......after some considerable fiddling and faffing about, your scribe has demonstrated computer skills well beyond his understanding and fixed the formatting problem. We can now proceed as usual!

Sir Sidney Kidman....a man of extraordinary determination, enterprise, and vision, personal qualities which saw him leave home in 1870 at the age of 13 with 5 shillings in his pocket, riding a one-eyed horse, and from these humble beginnings go on to become Australia's largest land holder. The area eventually taken up by his chain of cattle stations has been variously estimated to have covered between 220,000 and 280,000 square kilometres.

What is less know about Kidman is his incredible contribution to Australia's efforts in WW1. Kidman donated wool, cattle and even aircraft to the Government, ensured that all employees who enlisted retained their jobs when they returned, and even provided for the families of those who died whilst fighting. His knighthood in 1921 was well deserved.

And of course, his enterprise (as opposed to the man himself) is remembered today with the naming of the Kidman Way, a route which begins just north of Jerilderie and extends northwards through the major towns of Griffith, Cobar, and Bourke to Barringun on the NSW/QLD border. 

We had already covered the stretch between Cobar and beyond, but on today's journey to Hillston, we were to begin coverage of this highway at its southern end.

We left Jerilderie under continuing grey skies and made our way back out onto the Newell Highway into the flat grazing lands of the southern Riverina.

The Newell was not to be our highway host for long.....9.9 kilometres to be precise before we reached the junction which would see us turn left

and begin our journey north-west along the Kidman Way.

The highway skirts around the town of Coleambally (where we plan to stay on our next sortie through these parts) 

and, some 35 kilometres later brought us to the first of two junctions with major Australian Highways.

Here we turned left and joined the more than familiar Sturt Highway for a mere 500 metres or so before making the required right hand turn which took us through Darlington Point (another spot we have on our 'to do' list), across the Murrumbidgee River  

and northwards into 

and out of Griffith, a town well know for many reasons, some more savoury than others. We have spent a few days here previously, and left with mixed feelings...mostly negative but today we saw a different section of the town as we made our way past beautiful gardens and parks en route to the turn off to Hillston. 

With just over 100 kms left to travel we decided that Griffith deserved a second chance.....our 'to do' list gained another entry!

As we made our way out of the town this 'Goodbye' sign with its sub headings in four different languages, seemed a fitting reflection of the ethnic mix which is Griffith.

Some 50 kms to the north-west of Griffith the silo towering over the tree tops heralded our approach to the small town of Goolgowi

where we crossed the second of the two highways to which I have referred earlier. The Mid Western takes travellers east from Hay through West Wyalong, Cowra, Bathurst and on into Sydney. It is another of Australia's major routes with which we are more than casually acquainted, but today our engagement was fleeting.....all we had to do was cross it!

The even smaller town of Merriwagga, which we reached some 20 kms further to the north-west from Goolgowi, boasts a rather ghoulish claim to fame.

I'll let the Carathool Shire website take up the story:

"A visit to the Black Stump Memorial will provide visitors with details of the gruesome tale that gave Black Stump Country its name. A bullocky passing through the area in 1886 left his wife, Mrs Barbara Blain to make camp for the night while he tended to the cattle. The day was hot, windy and dusty, and while his wife prepared the evening meal, the camp fire raged and she was burnt to death. When people expressed their sympathy, the bullocky simply said "When I returned, my wife was dead, she looked just like a black stump". And so the Black Stump legend was born. Mrs Blain is buried in the century old Gunbar Cemetery.

Merriwagga has a visitor information centre, and is home to the Black Stump Hotel, with the tallest bar in Australia. The Memorial to Pioneer Women, a Ron Clarke sculpture, is also located in Black Stump Park. The Historic Merriwagga Public School has been transformed into basic accommodation for caravans and camping."

How many times have you heard that odd Australian expression 'beyond the black stump' as a reference to a remote area. Now you know the story. And the pub boasts the tallest bar in Australia....now that's a challenge. Our 'to do' list had yet another entry. 

We were still reflecting on the extraordinary things we find in the most unexpected places when this town sign signified that we had all but reached the end of today's trip of just under 250 kms.

From here it was a short drive through the town's tree lined main street

to the entrance to the Hillston Caravan Park at the far end of town.

Here 'mine host' Renee greeted us enthusiastically and 

invited us to pick a site in what was, at this time of the day, a virtually empty park. I chose one near the building which houses the more than adequate ablutions for two reasons. Firstly, despite the clear sky in this photo, the weather was still windy and cold on our arrival, and this building did offer some protection from the blast. Secondly, why walk further than necessary when tapped on the shoulder by a call of nature?

As you can see, here we found ourselves again on thick and well kept grass which is a feature of all the wide and flat sites here. The fact that it was also a drive-thu was an added bonus.








We had chosen to stay here on the advice of a number of Victorian acquaintances who travel north annually along the Kidman Way and who use this as a regular stop-over. Our relatively early arrival meant that we did initially have the place to ourselves, but this changed as the afternoon wore on as those in transit settled onto their sites. 


In fact, on our second day here there was not one of these drive-thru's to be had after 1500 hours. This particular influx included one moron who came in so close to us that I could hardly open our door. 

Needless to say this immediately prompted a short, sharp exchange of pleasantries, after which this chap suddenly (if begrudgingly) acquired some park manners, moved his van to its logical place on the site and restored a sensible distance between us. 

Oddly enough, we did not receive an invitation to 'happy hour' next door, but we did later have a few quiet ones with the park manageress who was even more outraged than we, given she had expressly told this idiot where to park, which did not include being in our lap!








The camp kitchen, seen here behind strips of bunting erected to protect grass under repair, 












can best be described as basic, but functional.









Apart from the delightful van sites, this smallish park houses quite a number of modest cabins, and these were well occupied. We learnt very soon after arrival that this is a town of itinerant (usually overseas) seasonal workers many of whom were in residence in the park cabins.








In fact, one of the local labour hire organisations had even set up what we suspected was a dining tent in the park for their clan.









A sly and slightly cheeky peek through the window whilst who dine here all were off in the fields confirmed our suspicions. I'll have more to say about this surprise Hillston revelation later.








But there was to be no field or any other kind of labour here for the Mobile Marshies. We did roam the streets of town as is our want, met a few of the locals in one of the 'locals' (as is also our want) and generally rejoiced in the return of fine and much warmer weather than that we had been experiencing prior to, and on our arrival.



As far as this park goes, we were more than happy with our decision to stay here for a couple of days and can well understand why our Mexican colleagues do the same. On the morrow we found that the town itself was equally pleasant.