I mentioned at the close of my last post that Injune, our overnight stop north of Roma, was a real surprise, and this it was in a number of ways.
Our trip took us through the expansive grazing lands which take over from the cotton and other agriculture north of St George, through Roma,
and into the rolling hills and much more heavily timbered country beyond. We were getting ever closer to the Queensland Central Highlands.
We were a little concerned as to just what we would find in Injune. I had read somewhere that the caravan park fee was $40 per night, an exorbitant sum for this part of the world, but we had no choice if we were to the keep the Waco running overnight and its store of very promising St George meat appropriately frozen. We had to have power.
What wasted energy that concern was. The Injune Caravan Park set us back a princely $28 with the added bonus that we could pick whichever of the grassy, large sites we wanted. We did just that (that's us beyond the cabins and the angled parked white twin cab)
This park is interesting to say the least. Our preliminary scout around it revealed only about ten available sites.
The rest was given over to what appeared to be pretty permanent van set ups and a very large complex of single room transportable blocks, including a kitchen, dining room and large outdoor eating and entertainment area. What is going on here we wondered?
We estimated that the dormitory complex and other cabins could house in the order of
one hundred and fifty or so, and as we later learnt, that is exactly the case. The accommodation has been established on a five year lease arrangement with the local council, the park owners. It is being used to house road workers, Santos coal seam gas field employees and those engaged in laying the substantial gas pipeline from the Injune fields to the coast at Gladstone, some 400 kms to the east.
According to locals to whom we chatted in the pub, and both the site manager (whom we also met in the pub) and the lass at the Information Centre (who was an ex-South Australian...we had a big yarn), there was initially quite considerable local angst about all this, but it is apparent that the penny has now dropped as to the various benefits to be gained. Not only does this system mean that otherwise flyin/flyout workers are contributing to the local economy, for the short term at least, the council will retain ownership of the not inconsiderable infrastructure which was required to establish the camp. And from what we saw of those domicile there, they were a tidy and polite bunch. As Mike (the camp boss) noted, they work such long, hard shifts all they really are good for when they return each day is a scrub, a feed and a long sleep. That notwithstanding, I suspect the two lasses who own the local pub are rubbing their hands together.
Our site was right on the opposite side of the park, and until quite late that afternoon when two other vans pulled in, we had that patch to ourselves.
So with the cat fed and settled into his post journey recovery snooze, it was off to see what Injune had to offer. Not the least of the items on our agenda was to discover the origin of its most peculiar name.
The Information Centre was the obvious first port of call, where, as I mentioned earlier, the lass on duty was from SA, and more than that, had lived in at least two towns where Liz had spent some of her childhood. Amid the reminiscing, we were able to determine that the origin of the name remains something of a mystery.
Four alternatives are canvassed by the pundits. The first is that the explorer Ludwig Leichhardt passed this way in June along Horse Creek. Some rather obscure tree blazes indicate his passage, but not the year. Theory two has it that the town was named by the Railways Department after the Parish of Injune. The third suggestion is somewhat more obtuse. Its supporters argue that varying notations on local maps in 1864 and 1879 gave rise to Injune as a result of misspellings (this explanation really was obscure!) and finally, there is a very limited school of thought that the name is a derivation of the aboriginal word 'ingon' the name given to the local sugar glider.
The screed on the matter draws the inescapable, if disturbingly non-specific, conclusion that as far as the name goes 'WHATEVER IT MAY BE - IT IS....' Now that's one for the philosophers amongst you!
The particularly wide streets of Injune gave rise to the surmise that it began life during the days of the bullock teams, but this is not so. In fact, like many parts of Kangaroo Island, for example, Injune was established as a 'Soldier Settlement' immediately following the end of WW1, so, in comparison to many of its neighbouring rural centres, it is a relative pup. Mind you, whatever prompted the decision on the street layout, it is a boon for the incredible amount of road-train traffic now using the area. (This was a quiet time).
The need to provide potable water, fuel and other materials to the road work sites, the nearby gas fields and those laying the pipeline, and to remove the inevitable waste (of all types...you'll have to use your imagination from here on) has meant that there is a constant stream of heavy truck traffic in and out of Injune. In fact, whilst we were nosing around the area of the roadhouse, a pipe carrying truck steamed in onto a nearby dirt parking area.
Now you don't see it........
Our trip took us through the expansive grazing lands which take over from the cotton and other agriculture north of St George, through Roma,
and into the rolling hills and much more heavily timbered country beyond. We were getting ever closer to the Queensland Central Highlands.
We were a little concerned as to just what we would find in Injune. I had read somewhere that the caravan park fee was $40 per night, an exorbitant sum for this part of the world, but we had no choice if we were to the keep the Waco running overnight and its store of very promising St George meat appropriately frozen. We had to have power.
What wasted energy that concern was. The Injune Caravan Park set us back a princely $28 with the added bonus that we could pick whichever of the grassy, large sites we wanted. We did just that (that's us beyond the cabins and the angled parked white twin cab)
This park is interesting to say the least. Our preliminary scout around it revealed only about ten available sites.
The rest was given over to what appeared to be pretty permanent van set ups and a very large complex of single room transportable blocks, including a kitchen, dining room and large outdoor eating and entertainment area. What is going on here we wondered?
We estimated that the dormitory complex and other cabins could house in the order of
one hundred and fifty or so, and as we later learnt, that is exactly the case. The accommodation has been established on a five year lease arrangement with the local council, the park owners. It is being used to house road workers, Santos coal seam gas field employees and those engaged in laying the substantial gas pipeline from the Injune fields to the coast at Gladstone, some 400 kms to the east.
According to locals to whom we chatted in the pub, and both the site manager (whom we also met in the pub) and the lass at the Information Centre (who was an ex-South Australian...we had a big yarn), there was initially quite considerable local angst about all this, but it is apparent that the penny has now dropped as to the various benefits to be gained. Not only does this system mean that otherwise flyin/flyout workers are contributing to the local economy, for the short term at least, the council will retain ownership of the not inconsiderable infrastructure which was required to establish the camp. And from what we saw of those domicile there, they were a tidy and polite bunch. As Mike (the camp boss) noted, they work such long, hard shifts all they really are good for when they return each day is a scrub, a feed and a long sleep. That notwithstanding, I suspect the two lasses who own the local pub are rubbing their hands together.
Our site was right on the opposite side of the park, and until quite late that afternoon when two other vans pulled in, we had that patch to ourselves.
So with the cat fed and settled into his post journey recovery snooze, it was off to see what Injune had to offer. Not the least of the items on our agenda was to discover the origin of its most peculiar name.
The Information Centre was the obvious first port of call, where, as I mentioned earlier, the lass on duty was from SA, and more than that, had lived in at least two towns where Liz had spent some of her childhood. Amid the reminiscing, we were able to determine that the origin of the name remains something of a mystery.
Four alternatives are canvassed by the pundits. The first is that the explorer Ludwig Leichhardt passed this way in June along Horse Creek. Some rather obscure tree blazes indicate his passage, but not the year. Theory two has it that the town was named by the Railways Department after the Parish of Injune. The third suggestion is somewhat more obtuse. Its supporters argue that varying notations on local maps in 1864 and 1879 gave rise to Injune as a result of misspellings (this explanation really was obscure!) and finally, there is a very limited school of thought that the name is a derivation of the aboriginal word 'ingon' the name given to the local sugar glider.
The screed on the matter draws the inescapable, if disturbingly non-specific, conclusion that as far as the name goes 'WHATEVER IT MAY BE - IT IS....' Now that's one for the philosophers amongst you!
The need to provide potable water, fuel and other materials to the road work sites, the nearby gas fields and those laying the pipeline, and to remove the inevitable waste (of all types...you'll have to use your imagination from here on) has meant that there is a constant stream of heavy truck traffic in and out of Injune. In fact, whilst we were nosing around the area of the roadhouse, a pipe carrying truck steamed in onto a nearby dirt parking area.
Now you don't see it........
and, bingo, now you do! (you can imagine how I was ducking for cover until things settled). My enquiries with the very cheerful driver confirmed that these are the pipes which are being used for the line, which could take up to another four to five years to complete.
Our main street wanderings then took us to a remarkable display and another 'colourful' local story, one which typifies the community spirit which is so demonstrably alive and well in Injune.
This is the original Injune railway station which served the ill fated line between here and Roma, a line which began its life on June 30, 1920. The settlers in the area had developed varied primary industries. The trains were used to haul a mixed cargo including cattle, sheep, wool, timber, cream, grapes, pumpkins and other seasonal produce over the 53 bridges and 6 road crossings in the 51/2 hour journey to Roma, and of course, passengers, who travelled for a fare of nine shillings each way (originally). A developing road transport industry and a rapidly diminishing use of the rail service spelt its inevitable demise on December 31, 1966.
None of that seems too remarkable, I hear you sniff. But there is more. The station building, pictured here (including the ghost of the photographer) in its heyday, was sold off
to a local farmer, who for many years thereafter used it as storage shed for his pig fodder. This was eventually too much for many of the local luminaries who banded together, bought back the building and then painstakingly moved it back to its original site in the town on the back of a (seriously big) low-loader. One of the last of the extremely efficient and powerful C17 steam locomotives (they were still in service on the QLD narrow gauge lines until the mid 60's when diesel took over) completes the scene. The station building now houses many photos and other written details of the area's history and development. What an effort for a town of a total population of less than 500.
Injune is said to be particularly representative of the change of industry focus which has occurred in many small QLD towns. The original agricultural industries have now given way to mining, coal seam gas production and a cypress pine harvesting area of note..it is the biggest in Australia. About 40,000 cubic metres of this native, termite resistant timber is taken each year and processed through the two high tech sawmills which operate locally. The Information Centre (pictured earlier) and the Youth Centre (patience!) are both made from this timber.
Another interesting example of changes which have taken place in Injune, include what was the old theatre hall (don't the front roof lines just give these away...everywhere) which has now been internally remodelled by a local builder as his home. It still includes a projection room and small theatre!
The spanking new motel, which sits just across the road from the hall, is another example of the progressive changes taking place in Injune, all of which are driven by the mining and gas developments and the money they bring.
But that is not to say that some of the original buildings are not holding their own in the streetscape as this old livery stable (and not a tumble weed or ten gallon hat in sight) demonstrates.
The local church is a small, basic building, clearly not modern. Indeed we had all but dismissed it as relatively unremarkable in the general scheme of things in Injune, until
we spotted this sign in the front approaches.
From all we could gather, this is a typically pragmatic and community minded approach to life by the good citizen of Injune, in this case by those requiring spiritual solace from time to time.
Our next surprise was to discover that a township of this limited size would boast not one, but two, quite different, but equally charming community parks.
Hendrix Park is quite formally laid out,
with a small stream bridge, stone work and an almost 'Japanese garden' feel to it,
whilst immediately across the road one can wander through a much more expansive sward which houses the swimming complex, the bowling club and, no,
I did not forget, the Youth Complex. Another 'Injune surprise' lies in the fact that the town supports a very active youth arts group. We were disappointed that the large exhibition of the works of these youngsters which is on display in the Youth Centre was not open over the weekend (we were there on a Saturday)
We decided that a walk around the billabong, which is situated at the far end of the caravan park, would be the ideal way to complete our pedestrian tour of downtown Injune before we headed off to the pub for the requisite fluid replacement programme (this sightseeing can be very thirsty work)
I guess the word 'billabong' can be used to describe a multitude of water holes of disparate beauty and volume, providing they are located in Australia, and it was with that thought uppermost tried we convinced ourselves that our jaunt was taking us around a place of country riparian splendour. We remained unconvinced, but at least there were the odd spots along what was, in reality, a series of very muddy pools, which did look vaguely inviting.
This short jaunt at the bottom of the caravan park did, however, reveal yet another small gem of Injune creativity, a series of public exercise stations, located in a wooded paddock of all places. The last thing one would expect to find!
But now, off to the pub. We always approach these visits with two thoughts in mind...apart from the obvious of course, a beer or two, there is the constant hope that we'll rub shoulders with interesting and informative locals. Mission accomplished in Injune!
Even the obligatory licensee notice over the entrance door demonstrated promise.
The interior of the pub was as 'country quirky' as we had hoped, and the locals were both highly forthcoming and friendly. We learnt a great deal about Injune's history during a very well spent hour or so. And, of course, it was just the place we expected to find a surf lifesaving patrol cap hanging on the wall!
The grey haired chap on the right of the shot is Mike, the caravan park camp manager, from whom we got all the gen on the development of the accommodation infrastructure. He expected that it would take three of the five years they were to be in situ to recover the capital cost. Beyond that, an operating profit and the bonus of having a fully transportable asset completely paid for.
In the course of our chat he told us that his company had chosen Injune for a number of reasons. One was that Santos, the company operating the coal seam gas field, had recognised the cost benefits of outsourcing their worker accommodation and messing operation, and the other was the practical, mutually beneficial relationship established with the local council. We were stunned to learn that, for a similar operation in Roma, the esteemed burghers of that town were slugging (there can be no other way of looking at it) the company involved $2 million per year for the privilege. Now that's 'gouging' taken to a new level!
So it was that after having spent one of the most interesting 24 hours of our trip to date, we rubbed shoulders with one of the big boys at the fuel stop
and set our sights on Emerald, where we planned to spend two nights.
The trip of just over 300 kms took us up into the central highlands of the Great Dividing Range where the hitherto relatively flat countryside gave way to
a topography featuring mountain bluffs
In the course of our chat he told us that his company had chosen Injune for a number of reasons. One was that Santos, the company operating the coal seam gas field, had recognised the cost benefits of outsourcing their worker accommodation and messing operation, and the other was the practical, mutually beneficial relationship established with the local council. We were stunned to learn that, for a similar operation in Roma, the esteemed burghers of that town were slugging (there can be no other way of looking at it) the company involved $2 million per year for the privilege. Now that's 'gouging' taken to a new level!
So it was that after having spent one of the most interesting 24 hours of our trip to date, we rubbed shoulders with one of the big boys at the fuel stop
and set our sights on Emerald, where we planned to spend two nights.
The trip of just over 300 kms took us up into the central highlands of the Great Dividing Range where the hitherto relatively flat countryside gave way to
a topography featuring mountain bluffs
and some challenging driving up and down a number of very steep sections of the highway (this photo does not actually do justice to the drop....we came down this stretch in 2nd gear)
Then, surprisingly, once over the main ridge, we were again traversing relatively flat country. The mountains in the distance are home to the Canarvon National Park and its famous gorge, but, as with most national parks, animals are not permitted entry. It was with some disappointment we drove on as we have had this place recommended to us by many.
On through the small towns of Rolleston and the delightful Springsure (one we shall definitely visit again for a few days) and into Emerald, a town which, in its approach and departure sprawl, reminded us a deal of Roma.
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