Farewell Hillston. Our Victorian friends were right. This is a delightful spot for a stop-over, one we shall certainly revisit at some time in the future.
But today was to be a long one....Hillston to Nyngan....just shy of 400 kms. Given what we had been told about the 'early bird and the good site worms' at The Nyngan Riverside Caravan Park, I was keen to be on the road at 'sparrows'.
Now I'm not quite sure what it is about caravan parks and kookaburras, other than the fact that these are very sly birds which are very quick to learn where and when to get a free feed, but here at Hillston, as we had seen at Moama, we were farewelled by a feathered friend perched expectantly on the office key box.
This chunky little chap became quite excited as we passed. "Sorry mate, you'll have to wait for Renee to rise." The Mobile Marshies were on a mission and were not to be delayed. Out we went again onto the Kidman Way on the first leg of today's trip, the 250 kms virtually due north to Cobar.
It was indeed early, and with the glare of the sun and the threat of roaming roos in the early morning feeding light, our progress was both modest and very watchful for the first twenty minutes or so. You would be amazed to see just how many roadside rocks and shrubs become kangaroos in the distance!
Our speed increased with the angle of the sun and our turn north after the first short easterly leg out of Hillston. And as you can see, we had the highway to ourselves.
Sixty kilometres into our trip saw us formally cross into the NSW outback. Mind you, the only indication was this sign.....the passing vista had barely changed since we left the irrigation district around Hillston.
This section of The Kidman Way is pretty desolate. In fact there is only one very small town between Hillston and Cobar. As we approached Mount Hope, 100 kms north of Hillston, distant low hills loomed in our windscreen for the first time in many days,
and before we knew it we were into the Cobar Shire. Cobar itself is an old stamping ground for us....we have stayed there on three previous occasions, but have never approached it from this direction before. It was good to be on new highway, even if much of it was 'the same old, same old!'.
We were soon flashing by the turn off into the couple of homes and the obligatory pub which comprise the tiny village of Mount Hope today.
As you can see from this aerial shot, courtesy of the 'G'Day pubs' website, there is very little to Mount Hope which came into existence as a copper mining town during the last century. When the copper ran out, some stayed on, but a bushfire in the 1950's wiped out most of the town. This is all that now remains.
Apart from the surrounding dust, we were quite taken by the quaint Royal Hotel, which was first licensed in 1883 and which today claims to have the only cement bar in NSW. The pub offers free camping for any who wish to linger. We have pencilled in this genuine outback oasis for a future stop-over.
But for now it was on to Cobar. Our obligatory two hour rest break arrived well before the town.
The highway to date had been reasonable, but on the approach into Cobar it improved dramatically in the sections which had obviously been repaired after damage sustained in the heavy rains of last year.
Unfortunately this did not last all the way into town and our final approach was over the type of road we have come to expect in this area....narrow carriageway, rough shoulders and patched surfaces.
Our woes were relatively short-lived and a poppet head looming above the tree line soon heralded our final run into Cobar
where the Kidman Way took us past the eastern end of town to the intersection with the Barrier Highway, This would take us east over the remaining 130 kms to Nyngan.
And here we took on 'the road ahead' out into the low scrub and undulating country between Cobar and Nyngan. The road surface looked benign, but it was a shocker. We were back on a really rough section of highway, where the bitumen is actually corrugated, undoubtedly the result of the heavy transport traffic the road carries.
With our speed reduced to deal with the road conditions, this was now becoming a trying day. With 81 kms to go,
it was time for another break
and a change of drivers! 'Madam Chirpy'
soon became a study of concentration as we rejoined the highway and made our way further east towards Nyngan. And if you expect and patronising or sexist comments about her towing abilities....forget it. She can also read!
In all fairness, and for the sake of continuing domestic harmony, I must report that Liz is more than capable behind the wheel, and I was glad to assume the role of navigator,
and we were both more than glad when the old buggy and park sign told us that we had arrived at the entrance roadway to our Nyngan park.
What I really should have said is the very long entrance road
which took us in over a cattle grid (this was a first)
past the colourful park sign which told us we were indeed in the right place,
to the park office. Given that we had already spotted a couple of camels in a nearby enclosure,
the somewhat eccentric nature of the office decoration dis not come as a complete surprise. Pirate statues standing guard on either side of the doorway? Certainly another first.
This theme of quaint, different or however else one would chose to describe it, is carried on inside the park office building.
The place is cluttered with all sorts of bits and pieces from yesteryear,
including on poster which was very close to your correspondent's heart.....my orange Monaro GTS (with black offset stripes and black leather trim) had been my pride and joy in the early 70's. Having to sell it was the only downside to my selection to serve with the UN Forces in Cyprus.
The Nyngan Riverside Caravan Park, as it name so clearly suggests, sits along the banks of the Bogan River, a not inconsiderable stream of sufficient size (at this point at least) to support water skiing. Any doubt that this activity would be a favourite pastime for those using this park was soon put to rest with a quick glance inside the office 'shop' where all manner of equipment to enable those of an inclination to be towed behind fast boats was on sale.
This, for me, was a glaring warning sign. We had arrived here on the Thursday before Good Friday. The weather was moderately warm, the forecast was benign and I was on high alert.
We had certainly pulled in early enough (as the later influx demonstrated) to avail ourselves of a site on the edge of the river, but we were sufficiently sage to do a recce before charging off to bag our little patch of paradise.
Very good move, Marshies. Sprawling family tent cities, a couple of moored speed boats, other assorted tinnies and all the assembled paraphernalia warned of one thing....noise, noise and more noise, from early morning to late in the evening.
Not for us. A large drive-thru with associated grass (of sorts) and plenty of shade, all well divorced from the river bank precinct, was our selection.
What a wise decision this proved to be. By mid afternoon the rush was on.....the Easter crowds began to pour in, and it soon became evident that what had previously been quiet open space along the river bank was rapidly being transformed into vaguely organised chaos. We were happy to be well out of the hubbub.
Oh, and in case you are wondering about the heading of this missive....simple really. Nyngan lies in the heart of the 'Bogan Shire' of NSW.....we were now officially Bogans, but not for long.
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