by
Lynn and
John Salmon
(Jump to Part 2) // (Jump to Part 3)
July 8, 1995 (Departed Canberra)
We took our last glimpse of Stromlo Road (almost as moving as watching Mal Meninga's last scrum almost a year ago) and headed north toward Yass before turning west toward Wagga Wagga/Hay/Balrinald.
Our first decision was whether to take the dreaded "Tumut Road". Whenever I publicly observed that the map shows a shortcut from Canberra to Tumut that takes about 150km off the long and roundabout loop through Yass, I was given strange looks and people wondered aloud about my sanity. The long way is on major highway all the way, but I still have a hard time believing that the Tumut road gives Paris-Dakar rally drivers cold sweats. Nevertheless, we didn't want a broken axle on the first 50km of our trip, so adventure lost out to prudence, and we took the highway.
Somewhere between Wagga Wagga and Hay was a road sign depicting a cow and the words "Next 5km". Shortly thereafter we were driving against the flow of cattle for approximately 5km. This is our first experience of "outback" Australia. The sea of cows would part allowing the car to slowly continue west. At the end of the stream of cows was a pack of dogs and a "Man from Snowy River" cowboy.
We stopped for the night in Balrinald.
The proprietor was surprised at the
home address "Pasadena, CA" in the register. They don't get too
may So. Cal. folks here. He also mentioned that we didn't have to
unpack the car -- "It's pretty safe around here".
We stop in at the visitor center where the fiberglass
Zygomaturus is a must see. We learn that the ranger's boyfriend
is visiting the US, where he is reportedly skiing in Florida.
We verify that there is petrol in Pooncarie (an ever-present consideration
when driving out here, and even more so farther west), and head into the park.
We spent some time exploring the area called
"The Walls of China". These are said to look similar to the white
cones of china clay seen on the skylines of Dartmoor, an area of
England from which many of the early visiting miners came.
Whatever the origin of the name they are an impressive 30km crescent of orange
and white dune earth formations. Some of the formations have eroded
in amazing patterns, looking like miniature versions of Monument Valley AZ,
at 1/100th scale, while other areas are broad sweeping
dunes and layers
of multicolored sediment.
We met up with friends from Canberra, the Fullagars, Tracey,
and Mike Warren
soon after arriving in Mungo.
We then took a leisurely
drive around to Belah camp. On the drive we had an opportunity
to race an emu running along side the car.
We saw several blind western gray kangaroos and one large
wedge tailed eagle earlier in the day.
Before dinner we drive to "Sunset point" and return 10km going the wrong
way (slowly) on a one-way road. We take a wrong turn into the "Feral
Goat Demonstration Project", but were unable to find any demonstrative
goats.
We return just as the weather turns sour, and to everyone's horror,
enjoy a pre-dinner snack
of DEB instant mashed potatoes and freeze-dried green beans.
After spending a second night camping in Mungo, we
bade farewell to Dave, Tracey, Peter, Daphne, and msw in the morning
on the 11th. We set out at a leisurely pace up toward
Pooncarie (pop. 84). Pooncarie has everything we need:
petrol for the car, fuel for the camp stove, some eggs, and
a pub for lunch.
Lunch at the pub took quite some time. We ordered steaks, wanting a good
feed before another night of camping. While waiting for food
we sat at the bar and the bartender told us some stories about
some friends of his that visited the US. In NY they picked up a
hooker who turned out
to be a bloke. Then he was interrupted by a call reminding him to pay
up on the horse he bought the other night in some drunken scheme to
enter the upcoming Darwin Cup.
After lunch we drove on to Kinchega NP. It
took longer than expected and we didn't get there until near dark.
We passed by some nice looking camp sites amongst some really huge
red gum trees along the Darling river. We didn't stop for some reason,
thinking things would be even better at the lakeside camp. Alas, it
took longer than expected to reach
the lakeside camp which was populated by unsupervised children running amok.
We didn't do much at Kinchega. The most interesting thing was probably
waking up in the middle of the night in a really dense fog.
It was absolutely silent, and a fairly full moon made everything seem
incredibly eerie. The park is much more pleasant in the morning, as the
feral children are still sleeping, and vast numbers of birds are active.
I hear clearly, and see in the distance a large flock of pink cockatoos
flying off toward the sunrise. Honeyeaters are flitting everywhere
about the camp and seem quite taken by the side-view mirrors on the car.
As we drove, we periodically saw yellow "fruit" along the sides of the
road as though a truck had driven along dumping lemons in its wake.
We investigated the "fruit" more carefully and found it
to be some type of squash,
yellow in color and about the same size as a large lemon.
There were heaps of them.
It's about an hour more to Broken Hill, after a brief
stop at the Maidens Hotel in Menindee where
Bourke and Wills outfitted for their ill-fated expedition.
The hotel was run by the same family for many
years, but the detailed history on the wall grows ominously vague around
1979, suggesting maybe it's now just another link in a chain. It has
a very pleasant courtyard and a rather seedy looking bar.
In Broken Hill we decided to stay at the Mario's Palace Hotel located
on the main drag. Priscilla, Queen of the Desert was
partly filmed here.
The hotel has a certain charm.
A 10 year old was working the bar as we came in. He didn't do room
check-in and had to get an adult for that.
The next morning
we stopped by a rock shop in town that had
some great little trinkets.
The proprietor was very knowledgeable, and very friendly.
He was full of information
about gems, minerals, mining, history, mineralogy, etc. The prices were
unbelievably low.
We bought a couple of little
"rock ants". The ants are made of copper wire recycled from mining
operations, they have a rock head and rock body and are perched on a
small rock pedestal.
A gift box made from recycled greeting cards or cereal boxes
accompanies them.
Only A$4.50.
We were so impressed with the ants that we later ordered 10 more.
Our rock shopping was followed by
a great tour of Delprats mine (the original BHP mine).
At its peak, the Broken hill mines had 8000 men working. Today it's down
to 600, but because of mechanization, overall productivity is up.
The tour lasted about 2.5 hours. We got dressed in miner
coats, helmets with lamps and carried a big battery on our belts. There
was a cage elevator to descend the 450 feet to the level we toured and to get
us back out again.
The elevator can operate up to 50ft/sec, but the tourists
only drop at 10ft/sec to avoid panic.
There's a hole in the floor
of the elevator, and when a flashlight is shone into it, one can see
the shaft descend all the way to the center of the earth.
Our guide has been a miner for 30 years (his father's
been at the mine for 42 years).
He's the perfect tour guide. He has first-hand knowledge, and
and he loves to tell a story. He couldn't be happier
spinning a yarn for a captive audience of 30 or 40 about the work,
the technology and the lifestyle in and around the mine.
He's none too impressed with today's
"Hollywood miners" who sit in their
air-conditioned earth movers with TV camera and coffee makers and never break
a sweat. Back in his day it was eight hours of drilling and digging. It was
hot, noisy and dusty. We got a demo of the drills.
Air-powered and very loud in the
confined space.
There was also a sort-of mini-front-loader machine that was used for
collecting blasted rock and hauling it back to the elevators for removal.
The thing just appeared to have a mind of its own. It jerked and spat
and heaved in different directions with incredible noise and force. If
it weren't in a mine it would have had a huge sign on it saying "DANGEROUS
MACHINERY. STAND CLEAR."
There were other demonstrations like checking the "backs" for loose stones
by pinging them with a steel rod. Solid rock sounds very different from
a loose and potentially dangerous stone.
After a quick lunch we drove to Mootwinge National Park.
(I believe the Aboriginal people prefer the spelling Mutawinje).
The drive took a little over 2 hours on dirt road and we arrived
at the camp site near dusk.
We noticed that there was a guided "full moon-rise"
walk, but we figured we could probably find it for ourselves without
a map :-). As the sun went down, the sky was overcast, and we figured it
would be a bust, but after a short time, the sky cleared and the moon rose
into a clear sky. It was a surprisingly novel experience. I've watched
the sun rise over the horizon and set below it many times, but I've never
really taken note of moon rise before. It's near mid-winter, so the
sky has had some time to darken between sunset and moon rise, and a
full moon in a clear sky is very bright. We take a walk under moonlight
up the ridge on the opposite side of the road from the campsite.
We took a tour of the historic sacred rock art site in the
morning. This site is only accessible by guided tour because some of
the pieces were vandalized/stolen by university students in 1983.
The two women who led our group of about 20
had a very bad attitude. This is a statement of fact and not necessarily
a criticism. They probably have good reason to harbor a bad attitude.
It does make the tour a bit uncomfortable, though.
Some of the rock art was interesting
(various animals and a lot of
hand prints, reminiscent of the Black Hand)
The visitor center is heavy with bitterness about the white
invasion. It is clear that the local people feel they would be
better off if the whites never came, and that co-existence is fragile
at best. The park was closed for a few days in 1983 after the
vandalism/theft. After that incident (I
think), the local aboriginal community became the "owners" of the park, but
I still feel I'm trespassing against their will on land that they
"own" only in name, but can't exercise full control over, e.g., to
keep me out.
After the tour we made lunch, then took a few short walks through the
gorge area. The physical beauty of Mootwinge was spectacular, and there
were a number of other promising walks, so it would have
been nice to spend another day.
We took a side road out toward Wilcania. It was a very nice drive
through various properties over what appears to be mostly private
land on a dirt track.
I had to get out frequently to open and close gates for the car to
pass. Every gate had a different
chain closure mechanism rigged up.
In the middle of nowhere, one gate
has a "Neighborhood Watch" program sign on it. Strange when the
nearest neighbor is probably 40km away.
We raced a couple more emus (35 km/hr) along the way.
It was 2-3 hours before we reached the
sealed highway. It took quite a while longer and was getting
dark before we reached town. I think it was on this stretch of road
that we passed a sign, "Kangaroo Next 200km", which gives an idea of the
distances between settlements. It becomes dangerous to drive after
dark, as the animals start to come out to use the bitumen for warmth,
there not being enough traffic in general to prevent this. We came
close to hitting a couple of wild horses.
We stayed the night in a motel in Wilcania
and had dinner at
the Golf Club. When we signed the register, I was asked if I was
related to "Big Jim". I said no, even though my brother is named James,
I don't think he's known in these parts. It turns out that Big Jim
is the local publican. Lonely Planet's advice is: "don't visit the pub unless
you are an experienced barroom brawler". As we drive past, it's like
a scene from a spaghetti western, with people flying out of swinging doors and
onlookers watching a fight in progress. I decide not to go introduce
myself to Big Jim.
John was scheduled to attend a conference on
Heron Island which meant
getting a boat from Rockhampton on July 16. Unfortunately, we were
nowhere near Rockhampton and we were unlikely to make it there
safely by car in one day.
Examining our maps Dubbo seemed a likely
target, perhaps an overnight bus would take us the rest of the way
and we could come back for the car in a week.
We really liked the territory out "back of Bourke" and it
was with disappointment that we headed east and gradually approached
civilization again. It took all day to reach Dubbo and driving with
traffic is quite a shock.
The hoped for bus did not exist, so we made the critical decision to
skip the conference. John was not presenting any papers, just attending.
So we sent a FAX to one of John's colleagues who was already at Heron
Island, explaining that we were in Dubbo and would not make it to the
conference. Later, we learned that this fax attained near legendary
status amongst the students at Stromlo, many of whom drive through Dubbo
on the way to the observatories at Coonabarabran, and for whom Dubbo
holds little attraction.
Australia
has a couple of very good zoos, one is in Sydney and the other
is the Western Plains Zoo in Dubbo. The Dubbo Zoo has an
early morning (7am) guided walk behind the scenes that they offer
now and then. We woke at 6:30 and made it to the zoo by 6:50. It's
a Ridley Scott morning, very atmospheric, lots of fog, beams of sunlight
streaming through the trees.
The dawn walk through the zoo was excellent.
First up were some South African dogs. They were up and about, but
difficult to see.
We then got to meet
some of the Rhinos. There are both black and white rhinos at the zoo. The
"white" rhinos are named by a mispronunciation of "wide", referring to
their lips. The black rhinos are then doubly misnamed, as in:
"they're not white rhinos, so they must be black rhinos".
Two of the white Rhinos were named
Tom and Nicole.
Tom came when called and sidled up to a very sturdy wooden fence, through
which we could reach in and give him a pat on the side or horn. A rhino
"up close and personal" is awfully large.
Next stop was the white-handed gibbons doing their morning aerobics
workout. Nothing like a bit of tightrope walking, some trapeze work
and a few one-armed pull-ups to start the day.
Finally, we visited the Siamangs, who start the day with a song.
They have an inflatable "bagpipe" mechanism in their throat
which allows them to carry a low note while at the same time howling
and shouting with a more bird-like voice. They are letting any other
nearby Siamangs know that they're here. Apparently they don't mind that
nobody ever responds, as the nearest Siamangs are probably in Sumatra.
We visited them later in the day and found them just sitting around.
quietly picking lint off each other.
The siamangs are kept on an island surrounded by a moat that is clogged
with pink flowers. We didn't even know it was a moat until we saw ducks
on it. Later in the day, a small child was fooled as well, and Dad had
to go in and retrieve him, resulting in a very wet family.
The walk was led by a volunteer
named Steve Thomas ("Hi, I'm Steve Thomas, and welcome to this
old Zoo"). He's a cosmopolitan kind of guy who seems a bit out
of place in pastoral Dubbo. He seemed to really
enjoy the animals and knew all the gossip, e.g., who's sleeping
with whom (Tom and Nicole), who's been trying to escape, etc.
It is well known that pannus monkeys will not cross water.
After the second escape from their island, the pannus
monkeys were wise to the traps that had caught them the first time.
The keepers ended up leaving valium-laced fruit around the park, and collected
a bunch of very relaxed monkeys later in the evening. All but one, who
was found on a neighbors porch the next morning.
Trip mileage = 2440km at Coonabarabran.
Leaving Dubbo we took a scenic route (i.e., gravel road) north
to Coonabarabran passing through the Warrumbungle National
Park. Near Coonabarabran we stopped at Siding Springs Observatory and
spent more than an hour looking around the visitor center which is
very nicely done.
Lynn learned that Uranus rotates on its side, among other things.
John liked the 14-inch Schmidt plates which showed just how much detail
is missing from his cosmological simulations.
While driving
we saw a couple of mysterious road signs. The signs
had a big black spot in the center with the words "Fatigue black spot
ahead". We saw this sign twice but could not discern
anything around the sign or afterwards on the road that
made sense of the sign. The truck traffic is getting terrifying, so
we stopped for the evening in Uralla, known for where bushranger
Captain Thunderbolt is buried. Surprisingly, the truck traffic continues
all night.
While checking out, John has a long chat with the manager. He used to
work on the trains out of Goulburn (near Canberra). He's not in favor
of the government policy which is apparently to put everything but
wheat and coal on trucks, and to de-staff the train stations --
turning them into homeless shelters, just like in the USA.
We drove east, stopping briefly at Wollomombi Falls,
the longest falls in Australia.
We walked a short way to Check's Lookout named
for a photographer who recorded the falls from that spot
in 1902. A reproduction of the photo was at the lookout place.
The drive for the last few hours has been through rolling hills,
pastoral scenes of horses and hay fields and gently winding roads.
It just ends suddenly at Check's Lookout, at a spectacular
cliff several hundred meters high. We encountered a redback spider
(the Australian cousin of the North American black widow)
on the walk back from the falls. We have heard about these endlessly
from our friends at Stromlo. There's nothing the Australians like to
tell foreigners about more than redbacks, funnelwebs and all the poisonous
snakes one might encounter in the back yard. This is our first redback,
though we did see a brown snake in our back yard once.
We next went to New England National Park (part of the
World Heritage Temperate Rain Forests Group).
Although it was a beautiful sunny day, there was a fierce biting
cold wind that made it unpleasant to get out of the car. We drove
around the park, but kept getting chilled each time
we emerged from the car and got back in again.
We did brave the wind long enough to make lunch at a camp site
using the car as a wind shield on one side.
We got out of the wind and drove on to Dorrigo.
We stopped at the
Dorrigo Lodge. The manager starts out by telling us
all the other places in town we could stay, but when we decide to stay
here, he is very helpful. He gives us a map, and tells us about a dozen
or so bushwalks and drives in the area. He recommends dinner at the
Chinese restaurant at the Bowling Club, which ends up being surprisingly
good, but the huge crowd is neither bowling nor eating Chinese. We
never really discern what they are doing, but it looks a bit like Bingo.
There was a TV at the Dorrigo Lodge, and we watched some
silly australian children's show a couple of times in the mornings.
There was a particular song that would stick in the head:
Dorrigo National Park is great.
Arriving shortly after 4pm, we only got a brief look on our first visit.
There is a short skywalk built along the forest canopy which gives
a perspective completely different from the forest floor. We
also walked a short way along one of the trails in the forest and
caught a glimpse of an
animal (possibly a sugar glider) climbing through the trees. We heard many
birds but didn't catch sight of most of them.
On the way out we saw a couple of bats hanging from a branch.
We noticed a sign saying the skywalk was open 24-hours a day.
So after dinner we went back to the canopy skywalk
to see how different the rain forest felt at night.
The stars were wonderful. There were heaps of them and the
milky way was very dense and easily visible.
It was dark and the moon had not yet risen so it was
an excellent night for stargazing.
The forest had a completely different set of sounds at night,
a lot of squeaks and chirps, but we didn't see any night life.
It was very spooky as we got down to the forest floor and ventured
a few hundred meters along the trail. When we turned off the
flashlights, there was absolutely no light, and our eyes never really
adjusted.
We started the next day with the 3 hour Wonga Wonga walk.
We heard many times, but did not see the whipbird,
known for its distinctive whip-like call. At one point there is a
second raised platform that goes for about 100m at about mid-canopy,
giving one glimpses of a completely different bird population. We did
see plenty of bush turkeys and various other birds including wrens,
robins, parrots, and three lyrebirds. One of the lyrebirds was
turning over rocks and scratching around for insects. Out of
curiosity, we lifted one of the bigger rocks the bird had moved and
estimated the rock weighed about 8 lbs. It was a beautiful walk,
and we saw very few people. One gentleman that we did meet on the
trail commented that it was "the
finest walk he had ever done in NSW parks". We couldn't agree more.
After the walk we had lunch at the Canopy Cafe at the
rain forest center (delicious scones with jam and cream). We then took a
long scenic drive through the neighboring state forest.
There are conspicuous signs saying "No Caravans", but logging trucks
are OK.
We saw
Norman Jolly's trees and stopped at Platypus Flats. Platypus Flats
was a lovely little lake with a picnic area, but we saw none of the
shy platypuses, despite following instructions and sitting quietly on
the bank near sunset.
The drive back to the lodge was on dirt roads marked 100km/hr for which any
speed greater than 40km/hr seemed too fast.
We concluded our stay in Dorrigo with a final walk
near the Never Never picnic area. Alas, there were
no elves or fairies. The walk was nice, but nothing like the one
yesterday. The area here has been heavily logged, and there are some
very big stumps. The trail leads to a waterfall,
which would be a great spot on
a hot day, and we decide to sit for a while. On the other
side of the valley we can clearly see streaks of green where water
pours down the hillside, surrounded by the grayer eucalyptus forest.
In the afternoon we drove to Coffs Harbor along a pretty twisty-turny
road passing through Belingen. At Coffs Harbor we visited the
Big Banana and found seafood for dinner.
The next morning
we visited the jetty area and walked out
to Mutton Bird Island which is only a short distance along the
north side of the jetty. The shearwaters were all away at
this time of year, but we spotted a couple of whales heading north
in the far distance.
Our trip mileage so far = 3102km. Here is a small
map of the area.
While driving north to Grafton we had car trouble.
The clutch began to fail
and we had to get it replaced (A$395). Total mileage on the car
at clutch replacement was
79,012km. Fortunately this happened in a town, with a mechanic, and
the part was in stock.
We spent 3 hours in Grafton, so we had a chance to get to know the place.
It's another "town that time forgot". The fashion in the store windows
was right out of LOOK magazine, c. 1963. The storefronts themselves
look very 1930s, although the merchandise (other than fashions) is up-to-date.
We have a mugochino and then go sit by the river watching pelicans and
ducks
until the car was ready. The river is very peaceful today, but there's
a small memorial to 13 cub scouts who were killed in a punting accident
in 1943. There is a meter stick indicating the level of the river, with
markings up to 8m above today's level, so at some times of year they
must get a heck of a lot of water through here.
The car repair qualified us to
enter a drawing for a free house in Grafton. We don't know if we won
or not. Drawing results were supposed to be posted in the Daily Examiner on
Monday, October 23, 1995, but we had left the country by then.
We drove on to Casino (Beef Capital) about 100km farther north and
stopped as sunset approached. We found a really nice restaurant for
dinner called Mediano. There was some shaggy-dog story on the menu
about Casin-O and Median-O
who met and created the restaurant. I didn't get the joke, but the dinner
was excellent. I had a "Mexican" dish that wasn't very Mexican but was
very tasty.
We returned to the room to get our first experience of H.G. and Roy at
Club Buggery -
an Australian institution (apparently).
I think they are too Australian for me. I just don't
understand most of what they are on about. I do like the guest intros
in two-part harmony. One of their guests
didn't seem to understand them any better than I did. They do
like to say the words "Club Buggery", though. That's for sure.
It was a pleasant drive north from Casino through Kyogle and on to
the Tweed Range Scenic Drive, a one-way 64km drive
through Border Ranges National Park.
I drove slowly and we reached the first stopping point at Bar
Mountain around noon. There was a picnic area and after cooking lunch
we decided to take the scenic walk to an overnight
camp area.
We had to repack all our gear from car-camp-mode to backpack-mode
and it was nearly 2pm before we began walking.
Our various guidebooks and pamphlets had conflicting information about
the walk. One said it was 6km, one said 3.5km, another 3 hours.
Not sure which to believe we set off hoping to find the camp between
1.5 to 2 hours. After 2 hours had
passed we started to believe that we must have missed the camp, and sure
enough, we completed the loop and found ourselves back at the
car park in 2.5 hours.
Fortunately, we tried again and found the camp site on the second pass.
The camp site had the stump of an enormous old tree with some smaller tree
stumps around it forming a wonderful table and chairs. We were all
alone in the rain forest which gets very loud at night.
We saw a possum, heard many bats, and the wind seemed to
be howling overhead, but it was calm where we were down inside the forest.
It was a great spot. It's comforting knowing that there's nothing
especially dangerous in the Australian bush. No bears. No mountain lions.
No hyenas. No moose. Not even badgers or raccoons. We can sleep peacefully,
knowing that all the racket is being made by animals who don't think we're
dinner.
Back in Casino (Beef Capital) we had bought some prime rib-eye steak.
I realize it was a good choice, as I cut it up in the dying light with
my Swiss Army knife. Since we are going to have to cook in the dark, with
slightly iffy technology, at least we know the meat will be good even if it
it's raw! In fact it's very good.
After taking a leisurely brekkie we walked out from camp and continued
along the scenic drive to the next stopping point, the Blackbutts
Picnic Area which has great views of the Tweed Valley and Mt. Warning.
The Tweed Valley is an ancient eroded shield volcano's caldera with
the remnant magma chamber (Mt. Warning) left after 20 million years of
wind and water erosion.
After lunch we met some very friendly and outgoing people.
Irene and Phillip Sivyer, Phillip's sister Nora and her husband Darryl, plus
their friend Denis Lane. We fell into conversation with them for
more than an hour. The conversation ranged over topics such as poker
games run in elevators, astronomy, art conservation and American
Indians. We are invited to stay at Irene's place near Brisbane and
have dinner next week.
We continued driving to the next stop at The Pinnacle
which is advertised as one of the
best short walks in Australia. It involves a climb out along a narrow
sheer sided finger of volcanic rock. A sign at the start
merely says, "steep--slippery when wet, be careful."
We went perhaps half way and decided we couldn't make it out and back
before dark and turned back. The sign said "1 hr return", which is
clearly impossible for anything but a mountain goat.
It was very steep, but definitely a
worthwhile walk.
We drove most of the way to the end of the scenic drive
and stopped for the evening at Forest Tops camp area. Not another soul
was there and only two
cars passed after we stopped for the night. We had a wonderful
little camp area with picnic tables, toilets, tank water and a
grassy clearing for our tent all to ourselves. We saw another possum
and again heard bats all night, plus a cat-bird. I tried to build
a fire, but failed, even with copious amounts of meths added as starter.
July 9, 1995 (To Mungo)
[BIG]
Out at 10am for the drive over
very good unsealed roads to our first destination, Mungo National Park,
part of the
Willandra Lakes World Heritage Region.
July 10-11, 1995 (Mungo)
[BIG]
It was well below freezing during the night, but we were
quite warm in our tent. It was cold in the morning, however.
Fortunately, we had a fire in camp during breakfast.
We walked to the dunes (5km each way)
and spent the day poking
around looking at bones and even some intact animal skeletons.
Some sightings included: one fairly complete marsupial (dog sized);
a possible betong head; lots of emu egg fragments; a mushroom;
several arrowheads, emu tracks, etc.
We fortunately had our expert guide Peter Fullagar
along to help identify the fossils.
July 12-13, 1995 (Broken Hill)
"City of Broken Hill nuclear free zone"
it says on a sign as we
approach town. Why do I find it hard to believe that this is a deeply
eco-conscious community?
"$200 spot fine for littering". I guess that mountain
of tailings that dominates the horizon isn't litter - or maybe BHP
paid the fine and figures they can now litter as much as they like?
The city was once a one-company town (Broken Hill Proprietary Co; BHP)
and still mines silver, lead and zinc.
The streets have names like Sulphide, Chloride, and Oxide,
though our favorite was called Avenue Street.
The local businesses have a fondness for puns in their business names.
For example,
a hairdresser called "Curl up and Dye", a fish
aquarium store called "Fish with No Chips", and another hair salon called
the "Jagged Edge".
Middleton's Rock Shop (phone) 080 872561
393 Argent Street
Broken Hill
NSW 2880 AUSTRALIA
July 14, 1995 (Mootwinge)
.
I was left with the impression
that either a) they didn't want to tell the whites about its real significance,
b) they didn't know its significance, and/or c) they were repeating what they
have been told by white archaeologists and anthropologists.
All in all the vibes were very bad, and we decided not to sign up for
the evening "bush tucker feast".
July 15, 1995 (On to Dubbo)
July 16, 1995 (Lynn's Birthday in Dubbo)
July 17, 1995 (On the road to Coonabarabran)
July 18-19, 1995 (NSW World Heritage Areas including Dorrigo)
Three jelly fish,
Three jelly fish,
Sitting on a rock,
Sitting on a rock,
One Fell Off
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
Two Jelly fish
Two Jelly fish
......
July 20-21, 1995 (Coffs Harbor to Casino)
July 22-23, 1995 (Border Ranges)
