As we pulled out of the Lake Maraboon Caravan Park and made our way on to the dam wall roadway in the early morning gloom, we decided that our departure had been well timed as far as the weather was concerned.
The normally blue waters of the lake matched the sky above. Pick an adjective...grey, dull, overcast, threatening...they all fit.
Fortunately for us, as we traversed Emerald for the last time in the foreseeable future,
and made our way out onto the first of today's three highways, the Capricorn (A4), the threat of rain remained but that, and we had 'three greens'.
The Capricorn Highway connects Barcaldine in the west to Rockhampton on the coast (well, it's almost on the coast). On today's trip of just under 350 kms, it would take us east from Emerald through the south-eastern corner of the Bowen Basin to within about 60 kms of 'Rocky', before we were due to make a significant turn.
We were certainly not out of 'coal country' yet, although as we drove out through the grazing lands east of Emerald, the only reminder was the constant presence of the electric railway line on our right.
By the time we had reached the beginning of the undulating country between Emerald and Blackwater, the major coal mining town some 75 kms to the east, the skies began to clear and distant ranges loomed ahead of us.
For some time the flat lands deserted us and the highway wound its way through heavy stands of roadside timber.
As we emerged from this line of hills, we could again gaze out across the obviously dry plains stretching away to the mountains, with the ever present railway line infrastructure now much more 'in our faces'.
If ever there was any doubt about the crucial role that electricity plays in both extracting and transporting coal in this part of the basin, sub stations such as this on the outskirts of Blackwater soon put paid to that.
Power poles of a different kind lined the Blackwater town by-pass as we trundled through
and pushed on towards Bluff, the next town on our route. By now the weather had again begun to look ominous, but this was all meteorological 'bluff'.....not a drop fell
as we ducked under yet another coal train loader on the eastern outskirts of Blackwater
and forged on ahead to Bluff. I have included this town welcome sign for a reason. We noted the rider 'Rail in Action'
and never were truer words spoken, well painted in this case. There is not a lot to Bluff itself, but what it may lack in size and population, it certainly makes up for in trains, on the approach,
through the town centre
and out the other side. Engines and rolling stock were lying about in extraordinary numbers. We had, at one stage, contemplated an overnight stay here in a free camp behind the local pub, but altered circumstances precluded that. I suspect it could have been an interesting night of 'what you see is what you get in the pub'!
No sooner had we left the coal trains of Bluff in our mirrors, when this interloper appeared on the scene. Now that's definitely not a coal train. The open grating sides of these trucks were a reminder that cattle production is also an very important industry in this part of the world.
Two hours out and it was time for a break. This well appointed roadside rest stop looked just the ticket, and it was. But here a comfort stop and a stretch of the legs was carried out to the loud and demanding vocal accompaniment of a very different and most unexpected kind.
A strutting white rooster, imperiously and noisily patrolling the fence line of his nearby enclosure, was a definite first for us!
This roadside rest stop also doubles as a yard in which construction equipment is stored. We remain unsure if this raucous rooster was kept as a pet or a guard chook, but he was certainly one to make his presence felt. "I wonder?", thought I. Sure enough, scattered crumbs of one of Liz's rest break chocolate chip biscuits were very effective in shutting him up for a time. My continuing state of good health and serene domestic relations demand that I make no further comment!
The highway service station at Duaringa was soon but a memory
as we made our way into another range of hills
through which the Capricorn Highway dipped and curved its way over the last 60 kms or so we were to us it.
As we emerged back onto the relatively flat plains with an ever present back drop of a mountain range, we farewelled the Capricorn Highway and turned right to make our way south-east along the Leichhardt Highway (A5)
for all of about 30 kms to the most oddly named town of Dululu. Biloela was now 'sub 100', always a milestone on a longish day.
Lightly timbered cattle grazing plains
and the occasional section of mild highway undulations were features of this leg of our trip into Dululu
where, at this major town intersection the navigator had to get busy. There may not be much to Dululu (although from the brief glimpses we had it looked to be a very pretty and inviting place) but it can certainly boast a major road or two. For us there was to be no turn involved.....we continued straight on as directed, but now we had joined the Burnett Highway (A3), our third for the day....so you see the title of this offering does make sense after all!
As we pushed southwards out of Dululu (I just love that name!) there was a marked change in the countryside through which we passed. The dry, brown plains gave way to large paddocks of irrigated lucerne and other crops.
By the time we reached the little township of Jambin, with its charming town sign proclaiming its presence in the Banana Shire (?)
we were soon reminded of what we had seen east of Echuca and Moama.....this is definitely hay country....and there is lots of it!
At last! After over six hours at the wheel (including breaks) this was a most welcome sign,
as was that announcing our arrival at our chosen park for the night, a large and comparatively cheap park run entirely by local volunteers (and very conveniently located at the end of town at which we had arrived).
Whilst admittedly this building housed far more than the park office and was tarted up accordingly, it really presented delightfully. Liz did the necessary business inside
and we were soon presenting our entry card to the gateway reader. After a nervous wait the imposing entry gates slowly swung open to admit the Mobile Marshies to their overnight lodging ground. Now that's a park gate if ever we have seen one.
Despite a small hiccup, we were soon tucked up on our somewhat dry but adequate site.
This proved to be a very interesting park, about which I'll have more to say in my next.
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