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)
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