Before going to Noccundra I had it in my mind that given I was only a couple of hundred kilometers from the South Australian border I should go and check out the Dig Tree. After a weekend of dust, burrs, heat, wind and no phone reception however, I changed my mind. I was about as remote as I could handle and with the tourist season coming to a rapid end the thought of being totally alone in the hot and desolate outback with no means of communication made me feel really uncomfortable. So Sunday I headed back to Thargominda. Having four bars on my mobile was very reassuring. I was low on water and some stuff needed charging so I lobbed into one of the two caravan parks, put on the aircon and spent a relaxing afternoon watching the V8 Supercars race at Bathurst.
Thargominda is quite a neat little town (it reminded me of Quilpie) but I was keen to keep moving, particularly given the forecast of strong westerlies on Monday. I'd had enough dust! I gave the van a good clean out, washed the dust off the windows (why I don't know!), filled up with water (artesian unfortunately - it has a very sulphury smell and neither James nor I will drink it) and emptied the dunny, hitting the road around ten, bound for Bollon via Eulo and Cunnamulla.
James and I arrived there late Monday afternoon. We had covered 377 kilometers with a raging 50 kilometer tail wind which gave me my lowest ever towing fuel consumption of 11.3 litres per 100 km (average is 14 - 15). The downside of the howling gale was dust, visibility often being very poor. With temperatures hovering around the 40 degree mark it was a great day to sit in air conditioning, listen to an audio book and knock over some serious k's.
Bollon is a delightful little spot and it's reputation precedes it. Several people I had shared my travel plans with highly recommended it as the pick of the free camp options in south-east Queensland. I was not disappointed. The expansive, shady, flat area that sits along the bank of the Wallam Creek is one of the best I have stayed at and a credit to the town. The 1.2 kilometer creek-side walk way provides easy access to the pub and main street, toilets and showers. Rubbish bins, water and fire places are provided and it has a dump point. Most importantly, it feels safe. There are very few free camps in Australia that offer what Bollon does in such close proximity to the town yet away from highway noise. Bloody good show Bollon!
I was only intending an overnight by the river so left the van hitched. The wind was becoming increasingly ferocious, but with the temperature in the van over 42 degrees I just had to open vents and windows to get airflow. The red dust was unbelievable. I was actually grinding it between my teeth! By 5.30 I was seriously in need of some cool air, so James and I wandered a few hundred meters to the pub, settled ourselves in the bar and enjoyed a couple of hours of bubbles, tv, conversation and airconditioning. Ahh the bliss!
The nights and early mornings in SE Queensland had so far been comfortably cool, and Bollon was no different. I did my usual weather forecasts check Tuesday morning and found that I would be pushing into headwinds if I traveled to Lightning Ridge that day. Wednesday was the opposite - a solid tailwind. Given I felt so comfortable at the free camp, and my van was in dire need of a thorough clean following the dust storm, it was a no-brainer. We would stay another day. By mid morning I had a sparkling clean van and this weekly blog right up to date!
It was another 40 degree day though thankfully the wind had abated. James and I strolled over to the pub late arvo, as usual. The cool bar air was sensational, as were, of course, the bubbles. German barmaid Alex and I got into deep conversation. She had been in Oz for four years on a visa working, mostly on farms, but having met the love of her life in Bollon (of all places), she moved and got a job at the pub. Her partner was a roo shooter. They both worked at night shooting between 20 and 60 roos. Each roo had to weigh a minimum of 16kg and had to be gutted. By dawn the carcasses needed to be deposited in a coolroom from where they were collected by refrigerated truck every few days. The meat was for human consumption and her partner was paid $1 per kilo. The things you learn in a bar! Oh, and something else I found out....an ancient old bloke came in and bought two pouches of tobacco....it cost him $202. Fuck me! I didn't realize smoking cost THAT much!
When the sun went down it was a perfect, still, balmy, starry night. Rather than pull the webber out l lit a fire, cooked delicious pork spare ribs with spuds and pumpkin in foil and peas, all done on the fire. Yum! James and I were in our element. A fire, a river, a beautiful sky and a wine. I bet you are jealous.....
BOLLON scores a 5 out of 5. It's one of the best! Easily accessed, large, flat, shady, beside a river, fire pits, drinking water, rubbish bins, dump point, toilets, showers, close to town, phone, tv, dogs and quiet. Not only all that it's safe and it's pretty.
Wednesday was yet another beautiful day and I was in no hurry to leave Bollon. After a walk along the river to the cemetery at the end of the camping area, I packed up slowly, did a tour of the town on the way out and headed East on the Balonne Highway mid morning. Twelve kilometers later I took a right onto the Ballon-Dirrabandi Rd heading south for 92 km, then right onto B55 for a further 64 km to arrive at the tiny town of Hebel, just short of the NSW border.
Hebel pub is another one of those iconic outback landmarks. It's well written up for its quirky character - which it sure has - and its history. Opened in 1894 as a Cobb & Co stopover, it is also reputed to have been a hang out for the Kelly Gang. And it looks like it hasn't seen a re-vamp in a hundred years! When James and I got out of the car we were hit by the heat - over 40 degrees and an increasing wind. It was sooo nice in the bar. As usual,it wasn't long before I got chatting with the owner, Merv. He and his wife Kim (who was across the road serving in the coffee shop which they had just taken over), had only been at Hebel a few months. Merv was a delight - a genuine, laid-back dude with a really warm disposition - so much so that I was tempted to overnight there. A few other caravanners were also in the bar, en-route to Lightning Ridge, and they talked me out of it. Apparently it was forecast to be windier Thursday with severe dust storms. Ah well - I settled for a piccolo of bubbles and enjoyed the cluttered, somewhat crooked and haphazard ambiance along with the conversation around the bar, which was also loaded with advice with regard to the best place to stay in Lightning Ridge.
Lightning Ridge is only 54 km south of Hebel. The actual township is 5 km or so off the highway, and its central hub is much like other outback towns of its size (pop 2500 approx) with a few bizarre twists. The opal fields themselves form part of the town and they have to be seen to be believed - shacks, car wrecks, rusting discarded mining equipment, shafts everywhere and mullock piles cris-crossed with roads that are almost impassable. And that's just a couple of streets back from the main drag! I recalled it from my previous two visits. On both occasions, in the early nineties, I had flown in. The first time I remember well as I was training for my Commercial Pilot's Licence in a twin engine Partenavia and had four paying opal miners on board. We departed out of Moorabbin (Vic) late because they were late, and we ran out of daylight before we got to the Ridge. I had to land at Walgett and get overnight accommodation for everyone before doing the final leg into Lightning Ridge the next morning. The second time was a couple of years later. I was part of a Flyaway out of my home club, PAC (Peninsula Aero Club at Tyabb) and on our way back from a weekend at Oakey we landed for lunch and fuel. On both occasions I didn't get to see much except the town, but I remembered thinking it was a pretty bloody rough old space!
We wended our way to the Opal, the furthermost caravan park of the three in town (there is no free camping) and I paid for two nights, down the back, and out of the way. James is not partial to caravan parks as he's generally required to be on a lead at all times. I figured if we could hide he might enjoy a bit of freedom without detection. It was a huge park and I was surprised at how many vans were in given the grey nomad season is coming to a close. The sites were all drive through (yay), massive and well separated. The recently re-vamped park had some great plantings of Leopard trees which have amazing bark. The entire area was graveled, which meant no dust (another yay), and I must say, the facilities were bloody excellent! I unhitched, set up, turned on the aircon and TV, and relaxed.
Of course I checked out all three pubs. Grawin was built by the locals in the 70's out of cypress pine and is the largest of the three. It's actually a pretty sound structure with a great bar inside, unlike the Hilton which is made of tin and drinks are served out of a small window that opens out to an open space with hand made outdoor benches and mismatched furniture. The local characters who live in the surrounding shanties look like something out of Deliverance - long beards, akubras, tatts, missing teeth and seemingly in need of a bath - but friendly and up for a chat. I had an interesting conversation with one old codger who looked like he wouldn't have a dollar to his name and he assured me he was a multi millionaire with a beautiful property on the coast, but he loved the opal field's lifestyle. When I asked him why the flag was at half mast he explained that a miner had fallen down a shaft the previous day and died. You get the feeling that many of the long term miners out on the opal fields are eccentrics who are living on the fringes of society. There is, however, an unmistakable air of 'fair dinkum' about the place. I would love to have taken the caravan out and camp beside one of the pubs but I couldn't bring myself to torture my beloved van over those horrendous roads.
There's plenty to do in Lightning Ridge. I wasn't sure how long I would stay but every day I paid for another night. It's such a quirky place. The Artesian Bore Baths are a short walk from the caravan park. Open 24 hours and free, I spent my early mornings soaking in the 40 degree water (sometimes hotter) that comes from over a kilometer underground. In the late afternoons I drove to the Bowls Club for a glass of bubbles and a play on the pokies - and even won a $927 jackpot! Back at the caravan park James and I would take our chairs across to the community fire pit, light a nice big fire and spend the evenings chatting to the other travelers who gathered around.
Friday l visited Chambers of the Black Hand. The one hundred year old mine is a series of chambers and tunnels that owner and artist Ron Canlin has adorned with carvings, sculptures and paintings. Over the course of twenty years he has used a butter knife to bring alive the sandstone walls with over 800 images. After viewing the gallery area which is 11 meters underground, l did a tour of the old working mine a further 8 meters down. The guide, himself a local miner, explained the mechanics of opal mining and shared some history and stories. It was $40 well spent.
John Murray's art gallery is another attraction not to be missed. Renown for his iconic art work that generally depicts anything associated with the outback, he has painted murals on some of the main street brick walls. It's really good. There's some fantastic stuff beautifully displayed inside his gallery...but it ain't cheap...bugger!
There are a few touring businesses in town that take visitors to various places of interest, but it's easy enough if you have a 4WD to do it on your own. The Info Centre provides maps of the Car Door tours. Because the winches that pull the rock out of the shafts are driven by re-purposed automobile parts, there are thousands of car wrecks. With an abundance of car doors visitors can simply follow the numbers and arrows on the Red Door, Yellow Door and Blue Door circuits and take in the oddities of the locality. It's bloody easy to get lost in the tracks through the opal fields though. I had to GPS my way back into town even though it was just a couple of kilometers away!
Thargominda is quite a neat little town (it reminded me of Quilpie) but I was keen to keep moving, particularly given the forecast of strong westerlies on Monday. I'd had enough dust! I gave the van a good clean out, washed the dust off the windows (why I don't know!), filled up with water (artesian unfortunately - it has a very sulphury smell and neither James nor I will drink it) and emptied the dunny, hitting the road around ten, bound for Bollon via Eulo and Cunnamulla.
James and I arrived there late Monday afternoon. We had covered 377 kilometers with a raging 50 kilometer tail wind which gave me my lowest ever towing fuel consumption of 11.3 litres per 100 km (average is 14 - 15). The downside of the howling gale was dust, visibility often being very poor. With temperatures hovering around the 40 degree mark it was a great day to sit in air conditioning, listen to an audio book and knock over some serious k's.
Bollon is a delightful little spot and it's reputation precedes it. Several people I had shared my travel plans with highly recommended it as the pick of the free camp options in south-east Queensland. I was not disappointed. The expansive, shady, flat area that sits along the bank of the Wallam Creek is one of the best I have stayed at and a credit to the town. The 1.2 kilometer creek-side walk way provides easy access to the pub and main street, toilets and showers. Rubbish bins, water and fire places are provided and it has a dump point. Most importantly, it feels safe. There are very few free camps in Australia that offer what Bollon does in such close proximity to the town yet away from highway noise. Bloody good show Bollon!
The nights and early mornings in SE Queensland had so far been comfortably cool, and Bollon was no different. I did my usual weather forecasts check Tuesday morning and found that I would be pushing into headwinds if I traveled to Lightning Ridge that day. Wednesday was the opposite - a solid tailwind. Given I felt so comfortable at the free camp, and my van was in dire need of a thorough clean following the dust storm, it was a no-brainer. We would stay another day. By mid morning I had a sparkling clean van and this weekly blog right up to date!
It was another 40 degree day though thankfully the wind had abated. James and I strolled over to the pub late arvo, as usual. The cool bar air was sensational, as were, of course, the bubbles. German barmaid Alex and I got into deep conversation. She had been in Oz for four years on a visa working, mostly on farms, but having met the love of her life in Bollon (of all places), she moved and got a job at the pub. Her partner was a roo shooter. They both worked at night shooting between 20 and 60 roos. Each roo had to weigh a minimum of 16kg and had to be gutted. By dawn the carcasses needed to be deposited in a coolroom from where they were collected by refrigerated truck every few days. The meat was for human consumption and her partner was paid $1 per kilo. The things you learn in a bar! Oh, and something else I found out....an ancient old bloke came in and bought two pouches of tobacco....it cost him $202. Fuck me! I didn't realize smoking cost THAT much!
When the sun went down it was a perfect, still, balmy, starry night. Rather than pull the webber out l lit a fire, cooked delicious pork spare ribs with spuds and pumpkin in foil and peas, all done on the fire. Yum! James and I were in our element. A fire, a river, a beautiful sky and a wine. I bet you are jealous.....
BOLLON scores a 5 out of 5. It's one of the best! Easily accessed, large, flat, shady, beside a river, fire pits, drinking water, rubbish bins, dump point, toilets, showers, close to town, phone, tv, dogs and quiet. Not only all that it's safe and it's pretty.
Wednesday was yet another beautiful day and I was in no hurry to leave Bollon. After a walk along the river to the cemetery at the end of the camping area, I packed up slowly, did a tour of the town on the way out and headed East on the Balonne Highway mid morning. Twelve kilometers later I took a right onto the Ballon-Dirrabandi Rd heading south for 92 km, then right onto B55 for a further 64 km to arrive at the tiny town of Hebel, just short of the NSW border.
Hebel pub is another one of those iconic outback landmarks. It's well written up for its quirky character - which it sure has - and its history. Opened in 1894 as a Cobb & Co stopover, it is also reputed to have been a hang out for the Kelly Gang. And it looks like it hasn't seen a re-vamp in a hundred years! When James and I got out of the car we were hit by the heat - over 40 degrees and an increasing wind. It was sooo nice in the bar. As usual,it wasn't long before I got chatting with the owner, Merv. He and his wife Kim (who was across the road serving in the coffee shop which they had just taken over), had only been at Hebel a few months. Merv was a delight - a genuine, laid-back dude with a really warm disposition - so much so that I was tempted to overnight there. A few other caravanners were also in the bar, en-route to Lightning Ridge, and they talked me out of it. Apparently it was forecast to be windier Thursday with severe dust storms. Ah well - I settled for a piccolo of bubbles and enjoyed the cluttered, somewhat crooked and haphazard ambiance along with the conversation around the bar, which was also loaded with advice with regard to the best place to stay in Lightning Ridge.
Lightning Ridge is only 54 km south of Hebel. The actual township is 5 km or so off the highway, and its central hub is much like other outback towns of its size (pop 2500 approx) with a few bizarre twists. The opal fields themselves form part of the town and they have to be seen to be believed - shacks, car wrecks, rusting discarded mining equipment, shafts everywhere and mullock piles cris-crossed with roads that are almost impassable. And that's just a couple of streets back from the main drag! I recalled it from my previous two visits. On both occasions, in the early nineties, I had flown in. The first time I remember well as I was training for my Commercial Pilot's Licence in a twin engine Partenavia and had four paying opal miners on board. We departed out of Moorabbin (Vic) late because they were late, and we ran out of daylight before we got to the Ridge. I had to land at Walgett and get overnight accommodation for everyone before doing the final leg into Lightning Ridge the next morning. The second time was a couple of years later. I was part of a Flyaway out of my home club, PAC (Peninsula Aero Club at Tyabb) and on our way back from a weekend at Oakey we landed for lunch and fuel. On both occasions I didn't get to see much except the town, but I remembered thinking it was a pretty bloody rough old space!
We wended our way to the Opal, the furthermost caravan park of the three in town (there is no free camping) and I paid for two nights, down the back, and out of the way. James is not partial to caravan parks as he's generally required to be on a lead at all times. I figured if we could hide he might enjoy a bit of freedom without detection. It was a huge park and I was surprised at how many vans were in given the grey nomad season is coming to a close. The sites were all drive through (yay), massive and well separated. The recently re-vamped park had some great plantings of Leopard trees which have amazing bark. The entire area was graveled, which meant no dust (another yay), and I must say, the facilities were bloody excellent! I unhitched, set up, turned on the aircon and TV, and relaxed.
Thursday was my birthday. Woohoo, I made it to 68! I can't believe I'm THAT old! So happy to still be here and even better, doing all this traveling around OZ. I'm soooo fortunate! Pubs in the Scrub was top of my bucket list for the Ridge, so I decided that's how I'd spend the day. After a visit to the Info Centre for directions and a bit of advice, James and I drove the 60 odd kilometers out to the Grawin Opal Fields. The road was excellent except when I actually turned into the mining area. OMG the roads were SHIT! The three pubs - Grawin Golf Club, Sheepyard Inn and Glengarry Hilton - are situated a few kilometers apart on an 18 km loop that takes quite some time to travel because of the road conditions. But man 0' man....is it interesting! The landscape looks like a cross between a bomb site, a tip and a wrecker's yard and is dotted by piles and piles of white rocks that have been dug out of the mine shafts. There are shanty dwellings all over the place and, not surprisingly, the pubs themselves are little more.
Of course I checked out all three pubs. Grawin was built by the locals in the 70's out of cypress pine and is the largest of the three. It's actually a pretty sound structure with a great bar inside, unlike the Hilton which is made of tin and drinks are served out of a small window that opens out to an open space with hand made outdoor benches and mismatched furniture. The local characters who live in the surrounding shanties look like something out of Deliverance - long beards, akubras, tatts, missing teeth and seemingly in need of a bath - but friendly and up for a chat. I had an interesting conversation with one old codger who looked like he wouldn't have a dollar to his name and he assured me he was a multi millionaire with a beautiful property on the coast, but he loved the opal field's lifestyle. When I asked him why the flag was at half mast he explained that a miner had fallen down a shaft the previous day and died. You get the feeling that many of the long term miners out on the opal fields are eccentrics who are living on the fringes of society. There is, however, an unmistakable air of 'fair dinkum' about the place. I would love to have taken the caravan out and camp beside one of the pubs but I couldn't bring myself to torture my beloved van over those horrendous roads.
There's plenty to do in Lightning Ridge. I wasn't sure how long I would stay but every day I paid for another night. It's such a quirky place. The Artesian Bore Baths are a short walk from the caravan park. Open 24 hours and free, I spent my early mornings soaking in the 40 degree water (sometimes hotter) that comes from over a kilometer underground. In the late afternoons I drove to the Bowls Club for a glass of bubbles and a play on the pokies - and even won a $927 jackpot! Back at the caravan park James and I would take our chairs across to the community fire pit, light a nice big fire and spend the evenings chatting to the other travelers who gathered around.
John Murray's art gallery is another attraction not to be missed. Renown for his iconic art work that generally depicts anything associated with the outback, he has painted murals on some of the main street brick walls. It's really good. There's some fantastic stuff beautifully displayed inside his gallery...but it ain't cheap...bugger!
There are a few touring businesses in town that take visitors to various places of interest, but it's easy enough if you have a 4WD to do it on your own. The Info Centre provides maps of the Car Door tours. Because the winches that pull the rock out of the shafts are driven by re-purposed automobile parts, there are thousands of car wrecks. With an abundance of car doors visitors can simply follow the numbers and arrows on the Red Door, Yellow Door and Blue Door circuits and take in the oddities of the locality. It's bloody easy to get lost in the tracks through the opal fields though. I had to GPS my way back into town even though it was just a couple of kilometers away!
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