RUBYVALE, THERESA CREEK DAM, CAPELLA RODEO & DUARINGA PUB

The Gemfields are fascinating and as we drove into the tiny town of Sapphire late Sunday morning our heads were on swivels in an attempt to take it all in. Four kilometers up the road is Rubyvale which is larger, and despite it's haphazard nature, not an unattractive little spot. There's a well maintained pub in log cabin style on a high corner hill surrounded by pretty gardens, a gem store and coffee shop made the same way across the road, a very plain old post office on another corner and a general store behind the pub that is just plain ugly. Our caravan park was opposite the hotel - rather convenient really.

Most of the surrounding dwellings are erected on mining leases and can't be permanent structures which makes for some curious housing design features. Sapphire and Rubyvale are fundamentally shanty towns mostly made up of old caravans, tin sheds, odd bits of timber spanned by shade cloth and hessian and an occasional building that resembles a house. Boundaries are delineated by white posts with mining lease numbers on them and many plots are littered with rusty old cars and mountains of junk and old machinery. Everywhere you look there are piles of diggings from mine excavation. It's dry and dusty and in places looks like a bomb site.

We had a couple of lovely shady sites backing onto a town common grassed area where several horses wandered freely, often roaming into the main street. Mick, the caravan park owner, filled us in on all the things to do - and we did them. First a wander across the road to the pub.

The Miner's Heritage underground mine tour was first on our 'to do' list next day. Until it became a tourist attraction in 1984 it was a working sapphire mine that started in 1906. It took about 40 minutes to do the guided tour which went through lots of tunnels some 15 meters under the ground. There were even some cute little bats hanging around in there. The history of local mining and some of its identities was really interesting. It would have been a shit life!

Next we had to pay a visit to Gunter, the strudel man. He's famous for his fabulous cake which, as we were to discover, was served not only with coffee but a tiny pot of port. Great at 10 o'clock in the morning! It was all yummy!

Fossicking for sapphires is the main draw-card for tourists, many of whom come back year after year to try their luck. You can purchase a license and go dig a hole or, as we did, buy a bag of dirt and sift through it. After a drive around the area to check out some of the stunning locally produced jewelry we bought a bag for $15, took it back to camp where there is the equipment required to do the job, and tried our hand. And we did find a few little gems! Next day we lobbed into a fossicking park just up the road. That was a bargain....$20 bought a cuppa accompanied by scones, jam and cream as well as a big bucket of wash (dirt that's from a seam of earth likely to contain gems). We were taught how to sift, soak and wash the dirt away from the stones then look for color and shine. We found heaps of gems....mostly small....but it was addictive.

We were back for another go the following day around 9am after we had hooked up our vans to head off. It was an even better haul than first. I found a 53 ct green sapphire which a local gem smith inspected. He explained that it had too many internal fractures to be faceted but when polished would most likely be a star sapphire and possibly worth a bit of money. Yay! Karen found a 10 ct stone that could be cut, so again, probably worth a few bucks. It was nearly 2pm by the time we hit the road for Theresa Creek Dam. Rubyvale had been a hoot with lots of very interesting locals and fellow fossickers who happily shared a yarn or two about their experiences and travels.

It was another nomad who had pointed us in the direction of Theresa Creek Dam. About an hour north, we heard it was a beautiful spot with plenty of water despite the drought. And it was. On arrival we dropped into the office, paid for two nights, found a good spot right on the water's edge and just relaxed. The dusk sky was very pretty.

THERESA CREEK DAM scores a 4.5. It's pretty, has showers, toilets and a dump point and there's heaps of space so you can camp anywhere...if you're lucky on the water's edge. A boat would be good as it has fish and redclaw. Phone reception is only available within a short distance of the office/coffee shop. There's no power or water. Cost is $15 per site.

The Capella Rodeo was on Saturday, August 24th. Karen and I heard about it a week or two earlier and as neither of us had ever been to a rodeo thought we should go. I called the local shire offices to see if we could camp at the showground where it was being held. The women I spoke to said camping was only available to participants, so I played the 'damsels in distress card', she spoke to her boss and voila - we got a guernsey. All we had to do was lob in there Friday morning.

When we arrived, which was well before midday, there were only a couple of other campers in. We parked nearby, pretty much in the centre of an area with stock holding pens on a couple of sides a huge undercover arena on the other side. There were lots of caravan park type power boxes so we plugged in, pulled out awnings and settled ourselves in. As the day wore on bulls, calves and horses were delivered by trucks and unloaded into the pens, then cowboys and their rigs ranging from small floats to huge multi-horse carriers with living quarters poured in. That happened all night and into Saturday morning. Our set-up looked a bit out of place I must say!

 The rodeo was fantastic. Starting at 10am with juniors, it went all through the day until at 6pm the main event began. The bull and bronco riding was incredible to watch with quite a few riders being injured by really angry big bulls hurling them off then trying to kill them or broncos going berserk. There were two cowboys on horses whose job it was to rescue the bronco riders then catch the crazy broncos. Their skills were something else! That was one of the best parts - just watching the recovery team and their horsemanship skills.

We left Capella with everyone else Sunday morning to head south, then east to Rockhampton about 350 km away. We were pulled over to the side of the road by cops for a while as a huge piece of mining machinery was moved along the highway. We decided to have an overnight on the way and called into Duaringa where we could stay the night at the back of the pub for free if we bought a drink. So we did!

DUARINGA PUB is great for an overnighter. It's one km north of the Capricorn Way about 120 km west of Rockhampton. It has showers, toilets and phone reception. It's a big open area so you can stay hooked. Power and water costs $15. I give it a 3.

SPRINGSURE, EMERALD & RUBYVALE

I feel sorry for all those poor Victorians who are shivering through the cold, wet southern winter. While the nights in south central Queensland have been in single digits, the days have in the mid twenties and sunny. The whole area we have been traveling through however, is suffering a severe, prolonged drought. Good rain is desperately needed so while I'm loving the clear skies and amazing starry nights my heart goes out to the farmers who are doing it really, really tough. Every day on the road we come across herds of cattle grazing the Long Paddock (the edges of the highway) as there is no grass on many farms and while those who have sown crops are praying for rain it is evident that it's already too late for some. Australia, the government and the banks must support the people on the land or many will go belly up before the rain eventually returns. Then where will we get our food?

It was yet another warm, sunny day when we packed up after five nights at Carnarvon Gorge. The Gorge, Jenolan Caves and Blue Mountains were on my bucket list before I left Yarrawonga back in May, and they did not disappoint. All three a must do! Karen had booked her Isuzu in for a service at Emerald on Thursday morning so we had two nights to play with before getting there. We headed north on the Carnarvon Highway with no set plan in mind and by 11.30 arrived at Rolleston where Karen needed to refuel (the 95 litre tank in my car has 30 litres on hers). Lots of travelers stop at Rolleston as it is renown for it's coffee cart in the park. It would be a pretty little spot if it was green and the river that runs through it was full - but no - not even a trickle in the creek bed. The park was surrounded by maybe a dozen or so caravans with quite a long line of people waiting to order their lattes or cappuccinos from the very busy barista lady. That led to lots of travel story swapping and people wanting to pat James and Ellie. The coffee was bloody good too!

From our research we thought the area around Springsure seemed quite interesting and there were a couple of free camp options or the showground. It was only 70 km further northwest. We passed up on one possibility a few kilometers before town, the road in looking very rough, and went straight to the showground. It had power, water, shade, a great view of the local landmark, Mount Zamia which is floodlit at night and it was a short stroll into town. Aside from a bloke in a camper it was empty with heaps of site choices all around the arena. It also had a clean laundry with a couple of machines that only required $2 for a load. Sweet! Decision made. We pulled up in the shade of some trees leaving the vans hitched and threw a couple of loads in the machines. Late in the afternoon the chatty lady caretaker drove up and collected $25 from each of us for the night's stay.

SPRINGSURE SHOWGROUNDS gets a 4 from me. The sites, amenities, proximity to town and attractions in the area make it worth a stopover. It's dog and fire friendly and the Rock lit up at night is pretty.

We ended up staying two nights at Springsure.  A slow amble around town and a visit to the information center on Tuesday morning prompted us to unhook my van so we could explore the area in more depth. We drove up into the Minerva Hills National Park to the lookout over town. The road was atrocious and I crept the Jeep along keeping fingers crossed that I would not break something. There certainly was a great view.

Virgin Rock, so called because of it's resemblance of the Virgin Mary cradling baby Jesus, forms part of Mount Zamia. We checked out the local cemetery and golf course on the way to the viewing area and another free camp spot below it which was tiny and right on the highway. The showground was a good decision! Cemeteries in old country towns are interesting. There always seems to be heaps of headstones dating back to pioneer days when death often came at an early age. It makes you feel quite sad. The golf course looked in pretty good nick given the drought. Its the only course I've ever seen with a railway line running right through it's centre.

Rainworth Fort Complex is probably the area's most historically significant attraction. It consists the original stone fortress, the relocated Cairdbeign Homestead and the school. The fort was built in 1862 following the massacre of 18 Europeans by local Aboriginal tribes the year before on a nearby property.  It was primarily a food store for staff and families living on the 100,000 acre cattle station but could also be used as a safe haven. It was well worth the 10 km trip out of Springsure. The ninety-three year old lady who takes the $10 entry is pretty interesting as well.

Our next stop, Emerald, (so named for the green pastures that surrounded the town when it was established in 1879) was a bit under 70 km north. It was a really cruisey run that had us setting up on the $8 per night free-range camping area at Emerald Tourist Park well before lunch. While we were not hooked to power or water there are fantastic facilities and the option to fill our tanks with water and use the power in the camp kitchen. We faced the vans in to each other so we would always have shelter with the awnings out, and by parking a car at each end we created a sort of courtyard area for James and Ellie. Our first night we sat by the communal fire with the puppies being entertained (I use the term loosely) by a fellow traveller/singer and dining on fish, chips and calamari cooked at the onsite Yabbie Trap.

EMERALD TOURIST PARK scores a 4.5. It's a steal at $8 per night unpowered. You get everything the $33 powered sites get except power and water to hook up to. There's heaps more space than the powered sites and it has one of the best camp kitchens I have ever seen. The owners and staff are amazing.

Next morning we dropped James and Ellie off at a local dog groomer so they could be bathed and clipped, then checked Karen's car into Isuzu for a service. With a bit of time up our sleeves before collecting the kids we popped into the Tourist Info Centre (where there is a fabulous metal sculpture of an Emerald Dragon), then drove out to Fairbairn Dam. At 17% full it is a rather abysmal sight.

James and Ellie were very happy to get back to camp. Karen and I were not quite so happy with how they looked. James at least will hopefully remain burr-free now that all his soft locks are chopped off. Karen did her own touch up job on Ellie to soften the harsh Schnauzer cut she'd been given. We weren't sure the $70 each was such a bargain!

Karen wants to get a GA handicap which she can apparently do by joining a golf club (there are a couple of online options) then playing 54 holes with someone one who has a golflink number marking her card and submitting her scores. With the Emerald Golf Club around the corner we threw our clubs in the car and were on the course by 9am Friday. The dogs were left tethered outside to the vans. We figured if we broke the round into two we could get back to them for a few of the hotter hours in the middle of the day and resume the game late afternoon. That worked fine. The course was pretty dry and rough in spots but the greens were good and quite fast. We had fun and Karen got the first 18 under her belt.

Emerald's BBQ & Beer Fest was an event we thought could be interesting. It was on Saturday 11am till late.  Karen was really looking forward to it. Maybe learn some camp cooking tips, browse the stalls, enjoy the entertainment etc.  We turned up a tad after midday and it was like watching grass grow. After a tasting platter lunch (average) and a drink we went back to the vans. It seems the action happens much later in the day.  When we got back we were earbashed with the camp bozo thumping his music out from his nearby tent. Enough of Emerald we agreed and booked Sunday night at Rubyvale Caravan Park in the sapphire gemfields region just 60 km away.

It was fantastic to get back to the 'country '. Emerald was a bit like the burbs. We stopped at Sapphire a few kilometers before Rubyvale late Sunday morning where there was a market and bought James and Ellie hats. They loved them!

Rubyvale Caravan Park was like an oasis in the midst of fossiking mayhem and chaos. And there was a pub across the road and horses in the paddock behind us to boot. Sunday bliss!

BILL'S PLACE, ROMA & CARNARVON GORGE

It would appear I had a stowaway. When I went to the bottom cupboard beside my bed to get shoes I found they had mouse poo in them. There had been a cute little field mouse around the van at Running Creek a week earlier. James had tried to catch it on several occasions, then it found it's way into the barbecue and I almost caught it when I opened the lid. It must have hitched a ride to Tara. I bought a couple of cheap timber and wire mouse traps at the local supermarket but all I succeeded in doing was frightening the crap out of myself trying to set them, then feeding the mouse peanut butter. On Monday morning before we left Tara, Karen and I went into town to shop and I bought a couple of the more expensive plastic traps and set them up in the shoe cupboard and storage tunnel.

We took our time packing up after the Camel Races. There was no rush given we weren't traveling far. By midday were done, and I was relieved to find that my Stone Stomper fitted perfectly when I hitched the van onto the Jeep. We did have a couple of glitches however. Firstly, Karen hurt her wrist when the drill she was using to wind up her jockey wheel jammed and wrenched her wrist. Then one of my stabilizer legs dropped down while I was driving over some rough ground on the way to the gate, dug into the ground and twisted. It then would not lock in the up position. Bugger! I called Karen on the radio and she followed behind me the short distance up the road to a garage where a very kind man who wouldn't take any money had a look and advised me it was stuffed. It would have to be replaced. I couldn't travel with it down, so he used a few cable ties to secure it in the up position. That would get me to a caravan repairer in Emerald.

In the days prior Karen and I had tossed around our options about where to make our first stop on the way to Carnarvon Gorge. We had booked to stay at Sandstone Park which was close to the gorge for a few nights later in the week. Our main concern was getting in anywhere for the Monday night - free or otherwise - given we were in a pack of two thousand odd vehicles heading outbound from Tara at the same time. After long deliberation we decided to go to Bill's place.

Bill had introduced himself to us on Saturday night while we were enjoying one of the bands. He was a local and lived on a property out past The Gums. It was about 60 km west. We'd exchanged numbers and had subsequently talked to him on the phone several times. He was well known in the area and seemed like a really nice, genuine bloke. He had invited us to camp at his place. That morning he gave us some simple directions to a point where he would meet us and guide us in. His house was on several thousand acres and not exactly easy to get to. After about an hour he saw us coming and radioed for us to pull up at the white ute on the side of the road. We had a bit of a chat and both Karen and I felt really comfortable with him. But then we followed him for miles and bloody miles on dusty, bumpy roads in what seemed like the middle of nowhere. Not a house to be seen anywhere. Mmm - I was getting a little perplexed. I would have no hope of finding my way out of there. Karen was following Bill's truck and communicating on the radio, and I was following Karen. I didn't want to express my concerns on the radio and when I tried to call her on the phone there was no reception. Shit. When we finally arrived at the house I was more than relieved to see there was an adjacent homestead that was clearly inhabited and we did have phone signal. In no time at all we were sitting on the porch with Bill sipping beers feeling very much at ease. Oh - and as I discovered shortly after arrival the new plastic trap had worked - RIP little mouse - born at Running Creek Parkland died at Bill's place.

By late afternoon we had knocked over a bottle of French Champagne (nice one Bill), done a couple of loads of washing and Bill had removed my broken stabilizer leg and replaced it with one off his caravan. How bloody nice is that! (Thanks Bill). I went for a wander and took some snaps of the stunning outback sunset then we stuck a leg of lamb in the webber, prepared some veggies and shared a big platter of nibbles before  enjoying a delicious dinner. James and Ellie chilled on Bill's couch while we chatted away listening to Keith Urban.

The following day Bill took us for a run 'just down the road' (150 km) to Goondiwindi for lunch. Home of the famous racehorse Gunsynd aka The Goondiwindi Grey, the town is really lovely. While Bill tended to some business Karen and I popped into the chemist. Karen's wrist was very sore, red and swollen so she showed it to the pharmacist who advised her to go to the hospital. Bugger! Lunch ended up being Bill and me while Karen spent a couple of hours in casualty. As it turned out it was only soft tissue damage - a relief I must say.

BILL'S PLACE scores a 5 out of 5 for me. Possibly a 10 for Karen.

By lunchtime the next day we were back on the road enroute to Carnarvon Gorge. It was a good six hour trip so we broke it into two and booked Ups and Downs Farmstay which was a little past Roma. The going was pretty slow with roads that had us porpoising scarily as soon as we got close to 90kmph, and massive kangaroo roadkill which, though it occurs mostly at night, is still a bit of a threat by day. We took a break at Surat arriving at our destination around 4pm. It was well off the highway so very quiet, but a strange, in an interesting kind of way, place. At dusk a big communal fire was lit by the rustic camp kitchen, which was great as Karen and I didn't have to use our wood (I always carry enough for 2 or 3 fires) and the conversation around the pit with a dozen or so fellow campers was pretty interesting.

UPS AND DOWNS FARM STAY gets a 2.5. I would go back again as it is quiet and it feels safe. The communal fire pit is a bonus, particularly if you are traveling alone. The amenities are clean but smelly. Not sure about the pig!

The Carnarvon Highway, like many of the Queensland roads, is in parts not bad to drive on and in other sections bloody awful. As soon as you think it's good and settle on a decent speed you hit a dip and frighten the crap out of yourself. It makes for pretty slow travel, the upsides being lower fuel burn and time to take in the scenery. Between Injune, where we had a coffee break, and Carnarvon Gorge the landscape changed from the dry, flat country we had been experiencing for days to pockets of lush, subtropical vegetation with towering sandstone ridges and rocky outcrops.

Sandstone Park  was not what I expected. It is a fairly flat and barren area located atop a ridge with 360 degree views over timbered grazing land surrounded by hills and the yellow and pink escarpments of Carnarvon Gorge. It's certainly spectacular if not somewhat exposed which certainly translated to high winds. On our second night we genuinely thought the vans might blow over. The amount of movement and the sound of roaring wind when laying in bed was pretty scary.

SANDSTONE PARK, CARNARVON GORGE gets a 3.5 from me. The sites are unbelievably huge...you could fit 6 vans on each and there are only 38. The views are to die for. It's the only dog friendly park within miles of the actual gorge, it has kennels, rubbish bins, dump point and you can have a bloody big fire AND use their timber for free. But....It has no shade, is extremely exposed to weather, has half a dozen portaloos and that's it. $23 per person per night.

The first day we set up and settled in. Day two we left James and Ellie tethered to the vans while we did the short walks to Mickey Creek and the Rock Pools. Bill had decided to join us Friday, so we hung around camp in the afternoon until he arrived. A born and bred Queenslander, he had never been to the gorge.

Saturday the three of us hit the Main Walking Track at 10.30. James and Ellie had been put in a pen together beside the office building at a cost of $20 for the day. Our plan was to try and do the 5.4 km walk to the Art Gallery then on the way back down the gorge go off the track to see Wards Canyon, the Amphitheatre and the Moss Garden. The total distance 14 km. We packed water, morning tea and lunch. By and large the hike was not difficult, though there were quite a few water crossings and lots of steps up and down. It was sooo worth the effort. All four points of interest were completely different and just amazing. I think the Moss Garden may have been my favorite. We were all totally buggered by the time we finished at 4pm.

James and Ellie squealed with delight when we picked them up. Poor babies. The wind was blowing a gale back at camp so no fire. Bugger! Fortunately Karen had put beef cheeks in the slow cooker before we left so we all sat in my van and shared a yummy dinner, a very nice red and listened to Van Morrison. Nice!

Sunday we had a flight in a helicopter booked for the three of us to see the gorge from the sky. We were really looking forward to it. We got there at 9.15 and met with another couple who had a booking at 9. No pilot! Half an hour later the other couple had a text to say he couldn't get out of Toowoomba due weather. Flights canceled...bugger! Ah well. Maybe tomorrow for Karen and me but not for Bill. He has to head home. Hope to see you again Bill....good luck and thanks.

TARA CAMEL RACES

Tuesday we packed up camp at Running Creek Parkland and headed west towards Tara in the Darling Downs. I was keen to see how my van would sit behind the Jeep given that I had inverted the tow ball tongue in readiness to fit the bracket for the Stone Stomper which was due to arrive via courier at the Tara hardware store on Wednesday. The van sat perfectly level. Sweet!

Karen and I had decided a week earlier to go to the Tara Festival of Culture and Camel Races (something of an oxymoron me thinks) which was being held from July 31st to August 4th. A somewhat iconic outback event, it was expected to attract well over 2000 caravans and motorhomes with onsite camping at $30 for five nights. It was just under 300 km to Tara but as the gates were due to open Wednesday at 8am we decided to overnight somewhere closer and leave early the following morning. We also wanted power and water as neither were available at the Tara showground and I  was close to empty and needed to charge stuff up. Kaimkillenbun (aka 'The Bun') was enroute and left us with a short run into Dalby then an hour or so to Tara. We booked into Glasby's Caravan Park which turned out to be very basic, arriving early afternoon. We left the vans hitched and plugged into power. On discovering the local water was from a bore I rang the tourist information centre at Dalby and was informed where we could fill up with town water in the morning. That would work.

Around 5 Karen, Ellie, James and I wandered two doors up to The Bun Pub. We sat outside with the locals and their dogs hearing more four letter swear words shoved into each sentence than I dreamed possible. It was interesting enough though. By 7 we had finished our 'ok' steak meals and a couple of glasses of the only red they had (which left a bit to be desired) and tucked in for an early night.

For whatever reasons we both had a shitful night's sleep and were up and about very early. That turned out to work in our favour because at Dalby we found two taps close together in the park and were able to top up our water supply to its maximum 200 litres for each van. The queue of vans and motorhomes to do the same came as we were finishing. Cool. From there we got directions from a fellow vanner to the town dump point so we would go into Tara with empty dunnies. We did have to queue for that which was possibly good training for the queue we hit at Tara....that was several kilometers long and took well over an hour, but surprisingly a lot less than I thought it could have. We opted for the 'free range ' paddock rather than our allocated sardine tin bays and set our vans up facing each other with a space between where we could leave the fur babies tethered, in touch and on matting to avoid the ever-present nasty burrs. They would have get used to a bit of time without us as they were not allowed in the entertainment precinct.

Late Wednesday arvo I received a message from the owner at Running Creek Parkland  that my Stone Stomper was sitting at the post office at Woodford  awaiting collection. Bugger! I rang TNT and as far as they were concerned it had been delivered. Bullshit - not even to the address on the label! I will admit the delivery process had become somewhat complicated as it was originally destined for Running Creek but because of shipment delays (which I had followed with my tracking number) I had rung TNT and had it re-routed to Tara. Clearly that did not happen. The sub contractor courier decided Running Creek Parkland was not in his area so dropped it at the closest post office. I rang the post office but as the as the package was over 1.5 meters in length they could not foward it. Fuck me! Next morning I left Tara at 7.30 am and drove for 7 hours on a 600 km round trip back to Woodford to collect it. I unpacked it the next day and with the assistance of some young blokes setting up camp nearby was able to attach brackets to the caravan and tow ball in readiness to hook it up before I take the van back on the road. No more stone damage to the front of the van....I hope.

All day Wednesday, Thursday and Friday campers arrived and the massive area swelled into a temporary city. There were fires in pits of all shapes and sizes with groups of people of all ages sitting around chatting, laughing and drinking. It was an amazing scene and the atmosphere was fabulous. Friday evening the festivities really kicked in. We wandered over to the enclosed festival area just after dark, bought some drink tickets which we traded at the bar for grog, then checked out the eating options. There was so much to choose from. We settled for sharing a serve of beef stew on mash and some japanese ball things. At 7pm there was a fabulous fireworks display and at one of the two stage areas live music had the crowd pumping.

The best day at Tara by a mile was Saturday. It felt so exciting and festive with crowds of people everywhere and multiple things happening in all directions from early morning through until the bar closed and the band stopped rocking at midnight. The camel racing commenced at nine with a race every hour till five. Despite Jedda or Dolly failing to bring home the bacon for us we had laugh at their ungainly efforts reach the post. It was so funny to watch as were the yabbie auctions and racing that followed each camel race. There was non stop music or dance performances concurrently happening on two separate stages, a huge market, sheep shearing, chainsaw wood carving and whip cracking demonstrations and of course the food alley and bar was in full swing. It was an absolute hoot and we had a ball.

Sunday was much the same but with less people, fewer performances and a much lower key sense of hype. By lunch time a lot of campers had packed up and left. We will do the same tomorrow and wend our way towards Carnarvon Gorge.