PETERBOROUGH TO COBAR (24-30 MAY)

After the dust of the previous day, Peterborough reverted to early winter form overnight.  Our departure was undertaken in cold drizzle.  With the wind having backed to the south-west (up our stern) and not a skerrick of dust to be seen, we were strangely happy campers!  The overnight and morning chill did prompt a change of plans.  The concept of free camping at Little Topar (no heating) did not appeal at all.  A phone call from Liz as we headed north-east saw us booked in to the main park in the Hill for the night.

The drive across the plains of the lower north-eastern pastoral districts was uneventful.  The various hamlets dotted along the railway line with names that evoke the romance of both the rail and grazing history of the area such as Oodla Wirra, Mannahill, Olary and of course, the renown border town of Cockburn (where once the state border passed through its centre, allowing drinkers to leave SA at the close of one hotel at 6.00pm and walk across the state divide to the other in NSW which stayed open until 10.00pm...certain oddments do appeal to me) passed by smoothly as the Cruiser ticked over at a touch under 2000 rpm (love those tail winds) on what is a very good stretch of highway.

The decision to overnight in Broken Hill proved worthy.  An iced windscreen and clouds of steaming breath at 7.00 the following morning highlighted the value of our internal heating arrangements (despite the fact we have reverse cycle airconditioning, we find the little blower heater we carry is perfectly efficient and much quieter).  We did stop at Little Topar to refuel en route to Cobar where we discovered an establishment characterised by a certain rustic Aussie outback charm and decor.  The largest sign behind the counter (and it was large) made it clear that any indulging in "bad language" would promptly find themselves on the service station apron for the duration.  My enquiry with the proprietor as to the capacity to overnight on the sealed surrounds was met with,"Mate as long as you bloody like, whenever you like".  I took that for a yes.  I have a rather entertaining image of the potential conviviality of the Little Topar roadhouse on a good night, something we plan to experience in the future.

Ah, the Cobar caravan park!  That worthy oasis of wide cement slabs, lawned site verges and large trees.  What simple things can please the weary caravanner.  After the six hour trip from Broken Hill we dropped anchor without too much trouble.  Indeed this was the first occasion on which I had directed Liz into a site with the use of our UHF two way radio.  Excluding the fact that one point I had forgotten to hit the press to talk button whilst suggesting in rather urgent and strident terms that she might care to stop before hitting a kerb (my directions...not her bad driving he adds hastily) all went swimmingly.  I should add that I though Liz was being a bit harsh when she was at pains to point out this mere temporary aberration to our friends the Lawtons (yes the same) who took up the site next to ours the following afternoon.  We decided to spend some time here, unlike most who merely overnight (as we did last trip).  As I remaked to Liz, sitting in the Cobar caravan park is like sitting on a beach, only in this case the daily tidal ebb and flow is of caravans not the sea.

Saturday was spent sleeping in, shopping, washing and scrubbing the van both inside and out.  Not a jot of dust remained.  Happy hour with the Lawts was followed by dinner at the nearby Bowling and Golf Club where, typical of the bowls clubs of the eastern states, the cuisine is Chinese, and, in this case, excellent. 

Mentally and physically refreshed, we spent a fascinating next morning at the Great Cobar Heritage Centre, a striking building, which was the former administrative centre for what was the largest copper mine in Cobar (now mined out).  Whilst we were both aware of the mining heritage of the area, we had no idea of the extent.  Of course, inherent in the mining methods of the turn of the past two centuries, were significant dangers.  Looking at a photo of a group of miners descending into the pit suspended on loops of a large rope to which they clung with one hand whilst holding their mine candle in the other, left little to the imagination.  Indeed a memorial park to those who have perished over the years forms a feature of the eastern departure highway of the town.

The discovery of copper is a tale in itself.  Three 'tank sinkers', moving through the area from Qld looking for work in the late 1800's, found odd blue-green coloured stones at a water hole at which they camped.  In what could only be described as a most fortuitous turn of fate, they showed them to the wife of the publican of a nearly bush hotel.  This lass of Cornish origin had worked with copper in the Old Dart prior to emigration and was quick to let our likely lads know what they had found.  Needless to say they toddled off post haste to stake their claim and went on to become the founders of the richest copper deposit in Australia for many years.

The slag heap of this now defunct mine is still at the eastern edge of Cobar.  It is now being reclaimed, crushed and used for local road paving. The tiny scraps of residual gold in these tailings have given rise to the demonstrably credible local claim that the roads of Cobar are literally paved with gold!

Many more ore deposits, including silver, lead, zinc and gold followed.  Mining remains a vital local industry together with cattle and sheep production.  Indeed, 'HighVis' is the garb of prominence in the main street at almost any time.  The open cut mine pictured is only 2 kms from the town centre.  The hole is large.....as we watched, a large grader emerged from the 'small' entrance seen at the bottom of the photo to make its way along the roadway to the top. (Sorry, not a good photo....be grateful for small mercies!)

Much has been done in Cobar to create a place of convivial living despite its high summer temperatures and low rainfall.  Prominent amongst these has been the construction of a wonderful lake. 

Liz and I traversed this and the local golf course on Monday.  Notwithstanding our 'heritage' walk around the town after our museum visit the previous day, this was genuine exercise at last.  The path is dotted with informative and well placed signs which identify and describe the local flora as well as some identifying the sites of two shanty towns which rose and fell with the fate of the main mine.  A highlight, however, was the local rugby ground.  Never let it be said that the good folk of Cobar lack drive or creativity when it comes to the matter of mascots.  Would it come to any surprise to discover that the rugby team bears the name of the 'Cobar Camels'??  How many teams can boast a real living mascot we ask? 

The irresistible draw of bright and warm sunshine saw us both indulge in a real 'veg-out' day Tuesday.  Liz is in a state of some shock in that I actually sat in a chair without doing much for almost half an hour.  A practise run removing the Cruiser's spare wheel and finally firing up the generator did appease my conscience. Completing this blog is doing the same today.  We are planning a pre-dinner walk into town for a drink at the Great Western Hotel as the exercise for the day.  This rather grand (or at least it was in its heyday) establishment boasts the longest wrought iron balcony balustrade in the country but the attraction for us is to determine if the two young ex-NSW police who had just taken the place over when were last here two years ago are still in situ, and, more to the point, making a go of it.

The weather is not too promising over the next few days, but nevertheless it is time to move on.  Bourke is the next destination on the agenda where we plan to spend time visiting Mount Oxley  (great views over the plains) and the town of Brewarrina, some 100 kms to the east, which is the location of aboriginal rock fish traps believed to be 40,000 years old which makes them reputedly the oldest human construction on the planet.  Forecast heavy rain and northerly winds have us planning to spend Saturday and Sunday in Cunnamulla (an interesting town but of limited local attractions) before we move on northwards to Charleville.  Here, rather than revisiting the town in which we spent some time last trip, we have booked in to a cattle station some 10 kms to the north-west, the 'Evening Star' where we hope to enjoy their advertised large, grassy sites, camp fires and brilliant night skies.  What are the odds on clouds and drizzle??  Hopefully the forecast for the relevant days is correct and we shall indeed be sitting under a clear sky.

Finally, a word about the ship's cat on whom we had originally placed great reliance as a guard animal and defender of the van.  Need more be said?  Even the open eyes was a mere token effort for the camera.

 PS  I have just noticed that the 'post time' lags the actual date by a day....fear not good readers...rectification is the next challange (as well as improving the photos...cannot be too hasty)

CLARE TO PETERBOROUGH (19 - 23 MAY)

Well, the Clare Gourmet Weekend has come and gone and I am pleased to report that the Marshies (or at least one of them...no guessing who) have remained relatively unscathed!

We began the weekend on Friday evening by accepting an invitation to dinner with Trish and Kerry Lampard.  Kerry and I crewed together on 'Poppy' in the recent Adelaide to Lincoln yacht race.  Further to that, Kerry is the President of the SAS Association in Adelaide and is also a member of the Combined Ex-Service Mess, with which I am actively involved.  What is all this nonsense about six points of separation?  After pre-dinner drinks watching the antics of 'Whipper' and 'Snipper', the two resident alpacas, we sat down to a delightful meal and some excellent wine.  A great way to start the weekend.

Our approach to the festivities of Saturday was uncharacteristically restrained. In fact with the exception of a sortie into the market held in the main street of Clare on the Saturday morning (where we caught up with a former Police mate of mine who is now growing olives in the valley)  we did very little during the day in anticipation of the fine time to be had at the 'Long Table' event being held at Taylors Wines that evening.  We were not disappointed.

Liz and I are very good friends with Neil Jericho, the general Manger of Taylors, and his good wife Kay, and we were delighted to not only catch up with them and others, but were very pleased that this inaugural event for Taylors was such an outstanding success.  Various courses of Italian cuisine prepared by the owners of a new Burra restaurant (a native Italian of significant culinary skill and his Australian wife) were presented together with a selection of some of Taylors finest drops.  The food was first class, the wines excellent and the company jolly......indeed a night to remember and hopefully emulate next year.  As a small aside in the vein of (according to Liz) 'Pete knows someone everywhere we go in Australia' one of Neil's staff who was on duty during the evening is the daughter of the Orroroo based NRM colleague of mine with whom we had had a drink some two weeks ago. 

After a somewhat late start (for us at least) we toddled of to Stonebridge late Sunday morning.  It remains my contention that the 1 km walk from the caravan park accounted for the fact that numerous glasses of thirst slaking bubbles were the necessary order of the the next few hours before we wandered back to fulfil our previously promised duty to light the fire in the main park BBQ area.  Moths to the flame!  I am sure that within the next two hours 90 % of the population of the entire park had gathered.  It soon became clear that the festivities of the past two days had left some in various states of disarray and your corespondent has to admit to having joined them after an hour or so of chat around the fire.  Fortunately the wifely tug on the earlobe was enough to persuade me that a return to our van and some food was a very sound idea...and indeed it was.

Another return trip to Adelaide the following morning resulted in yet more transferred from the van into storage before we returned to Clare  to dismantle the annex, pack away our kit and make ready for the real start of the adventure. 

An early morning temperature of 0.4 degrees proved the wisdom of the decision to hitch up the previous evening and we were away by just before nine en route to Peterborough.  As I have previously mentioned, the park there is owned by a chap with whom I served on the board of the Childhood Cancer Association so it was no surprise to know someone in the park.  What did really throw both of us, however, was the fact that as we were setting up the door of the van on the next site opened from which emerged a couple we have known through UN ties and SAPOL for years and whom we had visited at their regular winter haunt in Main Beach, Southport, on our last trip.  What an extraordinary thing!  Unfortunately they had commitments here with relatives and left this morning, but not before we arranged to meet in Cobar on Saturday next.

We had a cursory look around Peterborough that afternoon, booked into the Steamtown night show for tonight, did the required shopping and returned for happy hour..  We awoke this morning to a somewhat disturbing forecast which has sadly proven accurate.  As I go to press, we are hunkered down in the van in winds of 40-55 knots which have been driving clouds of swirling dust over the entire town including the caravan park for the past five hours or so.  Fortunately we managed a good walk before things turned nasty and despite my severe aversion to dust I have been sparing a thought for all those farmers we saw seeding yesterday as we travelled thought the mid-north.  I can only hope that they have retained some of their topsoil by the time the promised rains arrive.

The conditions did produce one really poignant moment for us.  We visited nearby Terowie mid-morning (the scene of the railway station "I shall return" address by MacArthur during WWII).  As we drove into the main street, the Australian version of the American 'tumbleweed', so associated with western movies centred in bleak, desolate, dusty western towns of the 1800's, was swirling and cascading in great cavalcades along the otherwise totally deserted main street as if to emphasise the fact that at least 95% of the buildings which lined it were empty and derelict.  It was no surprise to later read on one of the very well presented plaques at the old railway station that the demise of the railway activities in Terowie, with the advent of the standard gauge line, had caused despair to descend on the town. It is certainly now a mere shell of its former self when all the rail freight being brought up from Adelaide on the broad gauge line had to be transferred manually to the narrow gauge rolling stock which traversed the line further north.  I was also struck by the irony of the fact that this apparent utter transport policy stupidity (broad gauge so far and then narrow gauge) had been driven entirely by funding constraints.  Sounded strikingly like the one way southern expressway in Adelaide!

Hopefully the wind will have abated somewhat by this evening when we venture forth the to local railway museum.  I remain hopeful that the Bureau has accurately predicted the milder weather conditions for our planned departure for Little Topar tomorrow.  Where you ask?  Our first venture into the world of free camping at a small roadhouse stop some 80kms east of Broken Hill on the Barrier Highway is our next stop followed by two nights in Cobar and thence north along the Mitchell Highway to Bourke, Cunnamulla and Charleville which we plan to reach by 30 May.

Sorry, still no photos...working on it!

THE FIRST FORTNIGHT

Well, at last we are away! 

Despite Liz's outstanding efforts with packing our rented maisonette and setting up a timetable of required events which was childproof, I still managed to get behind.  Notwithstanding my skill with dragging the chain, (I prefer to call it "just in time management") we did get the van out of storage on the appointed day and off to the chaps fitting the new towing hitch before setting up in West Beach for a couple of weeks to make all shipshape.

In my quest for legality and safety, I put the rig on the weighbridge at Marion Sand and Metal en route to the caravan park.  As I later compared the results with the various weights for which the van is rated (if ever you want a challenging few hours let me recommend coming to grips with the seemingly endless permutations associated with caravan towing....aggregate trailer mass, gross trailer mass, ball weight, combined vehicle mass etc) I sadly realised that we could not treat this big beast as a "tardis" and that the compelling human instinct to fill every available space with bits and pieces would have to be strictly curtailed.  This was a particularly confronting realisation for those (such as me...not Liz) who like to have clothes for every occasion and sufficient booze to cater for significant nightly knees up for at least a fortnight prior to restocking.

Having obtained counselling, I set to to rationalise our contents over a a number of ensuing days.  This combined with a few handyman tasks saw the days at West Beach fly past.  The plan was to try out as many of the systems as possible whilst our initial travel itinerary left us within reasonable travelling distance of Port Clinton (where the Roma agent is based) to have warranty repairs effected.  A sound idea!  We found that the rear water tank did not feed into the pump (I am only grateful that this discovery occurred just as I was finishing my shower) and we noted problems with a leak along the awning seam during heavy rain. 

The weight problem was solved in part by hosting a couple of party groups in the annex during which we plied our guests with as much of the contents of our several wine crates as possible but I remained concerned that we were still too heavy ( I have subsequently learnt that probably 95% or more of those towing are overweight).  On the day we left West Beach I filled both tanks and again we took the entire rig over the weighbridge.  Disaster!  My best efforts to rationalise the results were to no avail.  More hard decisions to be made.

We had initially planned to stop over at Balaclava for couple of days to reset and reorganise, however as we pulled in to the park which had always looked quite inviting on those numerous occasions on which we had driven through the town, we realised that a closer inspection is always a good idea.  Liz rang Clare and we were delighted to find that the site we had booked for the gourmet weekend (which we have each year) was available.  Off to Clare.

We popped into town first thing the following morning and bought a cheap set bathroom scales and spent the rest of the day weighing and discarding all those goodies we had thought initially were essential to long term travel.  The negotiating process I am sure would have been of great interest to any onlooker.  Liz and I bid various items against each other as a result of which, for example, she decided she could live without our (specially selected)  small vacuum cleaner and I would have to make do in the galley without my favourite large (and ridiculously heavy) skillet, my Weber Baby Q and a few other "essentials". As a result, I drove back to Adelaide the following day and increased the contents of our storage facility by 120 kgs.  We have since discovered that we can do without our jockey wheel (use the jack instead to unhitch) and a number of other items which will make the trip to town on Monday next and should leave us (hopefully) legal, but more importantly safely loaded.

After a few days in Clare, we headed up to the Leigh Creek/Copley area via Orroroo where we overnighted.  This town, through which we had also driven many times, did not disappoint (despite the rather dusty site and the strong northerly).  The extraordinarily wide streets, a legacy of the bullock train days which is common in many mid and far north towns, house an array of really interesting shops and buildings.  We had the additional pleasure of catching up with a local colleague with whom I had worked closely during a protracted and difficult investigation in the Melrose area some years go ago and a subsequent closer examination of the interior of one of the town's two hotels.  It transpired that the recently new publican of this fine establishment and I had a previous working association in SAPOL transport so I am pleased to say that my record of knowing someone wherever we go (according to Liz) remained intact.

The personal relationships continued through our stay for two nights at Copley where the park and local bakery owner is an old school friend of a mate of mine who grew up in the area.  Very funny bloke. 

We visited Leigh Creek (God bless company towns...one can have any coloured house providing it is cream) the open cut mines, and local dam (which is indeed spectacular both for its location and the dust which is created on the drive in and out).  I fulfilled a long held ambition to drive on the Strzelecki track (for a good kilometre...photo opportunity only) and had a beer in the Lyndhurst pub!  Time constraints and my long held aversion to fine dust, which by now was being sorely tested during our stay in this part of the world, precluded a trip up the 80 kms to Marree and we contented ourselves with a long walk around the fascinating Copley township (the local cricket club is gem) and a wonderful last night dinner in the Leigh Creek pub, but a short stroll from the caravan park.  This  wonderful old country hotel is the only remaining local edifice to bear that name (Copley was the original Leigh Creek until some luminary discovered that the town had been built over a very large coal deposit....all move south 6 kms and start again!).  We shared the dining room with at least a dozen denizens of the caravan park and had a jolly night of information sharing with the receipt of some of those wonderful tips which can only be sourced thus. 

We spent the next night in the Quorn park (marvellous tress, but sadly more serious dust) before making our way south to a mate's farm some 20 kms out of Jamestown were we 'free camped' for the night, spent a very peasant evening, and awoke to lament the fact that our generator was not connected and we had no real way of blunting the 0 degrees morning chill.  The rising sun warmed both the landscape and our moods as we then made our way to our next destination.

Liz has had a long held ambition to visit Laura which we sated with a stay for the next two nights in what also proved to be as pretty and interesting a town as she had imagined.   Apart from the fact that it is the town in which CJ Dennis grew up (not his birthplace as the blurb is quick to point out), many of the town buildings which line another very wide main street, complete with a tree studded median strip, have been wonderfully maintained and/or restored.  The park itself is very pretty and showing the results of the current manager's efforts in planting new gardens and trees.

This also proved the perfect location to empty and reorganise all the exterior van lockers and prepare for our trip down to Port Clinton the next day for the repairs and service needed.  That done, we returned to site 5 at Clare where we have now been in residence for the past five days.  This period of relative stability and calm has enabled the ship's cat to regain some of his lost equilibrium which is making for a more peaceful life for the entire company!  Hopefully he is adapting at last to life on the road (he has been somewhat less than amiable during a few days' travel, a fact he has commuinicated vocally non-stop over a number of hours on the road).

We were greeted on our arrival in Clare with the news that the 'Discover Downunder' team was about to descend on the park for filming and so on which explained why we have never seen the place so primped, preened and pristine.  We were invited to join a "happy throng" in the park BBQ and fireplace area a couple of nights ago at which we rubbed shoulders with the faux famous (Brooke Hanson...presenter and ex-Olympic swimming gold medallist and her co-presenter, assorted camera crew and directors, producers etc) and the not so famous (us, our site neighbours et al) for a very good night indeed courtesy of Greg Cooley wines (complimentary, of course) and a park staff BBQ of genuine excellence.

The Clare gourmet weekend is now in full swing.  We are planning to be a shade more circumspect this year than has been the case in the past.  Had a lovely dinner last night with a sailing colleague and his wife who live locally and rather than flit from place to place today we have booked into Taylors Wines this evening for a 'long table' six course dinner to be presented by the owners of a newly established Italian restaurant in nearby Burra which is enjoying very good reviews.  This will give us the time to properly catch up with the manager of Taylors and his wife who have become very good friends after our first encounter at the Adelaide Test match nine years ago.  A planned visit to Stonebridge wines tomorrow for a morning recovery session (a pleasant ten minute walk from the park) followed by a late afternoon around the fire with friends from Adelaide into whom we bumped at a local market this morning, should complete a delightful weekend before another delivery of unnecessary items to Adelaide on Monday and our departure for Peterborough and places beyond on Tuesday morning next.  I have known the owner of that park for many years through the Childhood Cancer Association and we are both looking forward to a good catch up.

More in a week or two when hopefully our (Liz's really) technical skills will extend to the addition of photos and proper paragraph spacing.