Museums, Stockmen, Roadkill and The Tree of Knowledge

Well we did set off to Winton to “do” the Dinosaur Trail and discover everything there was to know about “Waltzing Matilda” but as so often happens we did neither. The Dinosaur Trail involved a 200k plus trip on dirt roads and there is just so much one needs to know about Waltzing Matilda. The latter was written in 1895 by “Banjo” Paterson when he was staying in the area and was first performed at the North Gregory Hotel which still stands over the road from Banjo's statue - erected by the grateful citizens of Winton and now welcomes tourists to the “Waltzing Matilda Centre”.

"Banjo" Paterson - author of "Waltzing Matilda"

After a brief trip into town we decided to spend the day exploring the Bladensburg National Park where we were camping at Bough Hole – a rather muddy waterhole on an otherwise dried up creek. The old homestead and attendant buildings still stand today and now incorporate an office for the park ranger.

Old Bladensburg Homestead

This is pretty bleak, dry country as the view from the homestead will confirm and we set off on a 4WD track to take in the sights including Scraggy's Gorge, Scraggy's Waterhole and Scraggy's Viewpoint.

View from the old homestead

 The Scraggy in question lived a solitary life over 100 years ago mending fences and whose only human contact was a hand from the homestead who, every couple of months, would deliver supplies. With no communication it was several months before anyone realised that Scraggy was actually dead – still, in his memory, he had a number of natural features were called after him, so he left something for posterity – which is probably more than I'll manage – so good for Scraggy.

Dinner is served at our Bough Hole camp

Next port of call was Longreach particularly to visit the famous Stockmans Hall of Fame – a very impressive building and museum opened by The Queen in 1988 and, I suspect, subsequently upgraded to its current very high standard. Whilst obviously covering the role played by the Australian stockmen in the opening up of Australia it also covers a full spectrum of Australian history from prehistoric times, Aboriginal history, the period of white settlement and exploration through to more modern times. It has an exceptionally good section on the History of the Flying Doctor Service with a range of interactive displays including a replica of the inside of one of the aircraft.

Stockman's Hall of Fame, Longreach. Excellent museum

Trainee Flying Doctor

 

We decided not to spend the night at Longreach but moved on a short distance to the small but apparently interesting town of Ilfracombe full of exciting things to do such as visit Machinery Mile, a mile long collection of machinery displayed along the main street, or visit Hilton's Bottle Display to see a collection of around 30,000 bottles. We did neither - but did manage a very welcome trip to the town's mineral spa to luxuriate in hot artesian water, pumped from the bowels of the earth, and which fell as rain over a million years ago – fantastic after a long hot day. Ilfracombe was also the place where the first delivery of mail by motor vehicle anywhere in Australia took place in about 1908.

Hot artesian spa - very welcoming

 

After getting Sandra settled down for the night in our tent I went to the nearby Wellshot Hotel (good name for a pub) for a nightcap and found myself being served by a very pleasant young girl from Inverness who was on a working holiday in Australia. We spoke of people, places and pubs – she had been to The Gellions but preferred Johnny Fox's round the corner – as they say, it's a small world.

The road from Ilfracombe to Barcaldine was notable for that well known Australian phenomenon “roadkill”. Travel on most rural roads in Australia and you will see the odd kangaroo or other beastie lying dead at the roadside after unwisely tangling with a road train – but the roadside carnage facing us yesterday morning was incredible.

 

Potential Roadkill

"Gotcha!" (NB No animal was hurt during the making of this blog)

 

 So much so I decided to count the corpses - setting my trip recorder to zero I counted the bodies over a 10k period. At times they came so thick and fast I missed many but still, after 10k had recorded 313 dead animals – over 30 per kilometre or approximately 3 every 100 metres. These were mainly kangaroos with the odd feral pig thrown in. Some of these were big beasts, perhaps the size of a sheep, and would present a real road hazard and at times I felt that I should be a good citizen and drag the corpses to the verge to prevent further accidents. However there was no need as I shortly discovered what must surely be one of the world's most obscure occupations – a Roo Tosser! Presumably employed by the local council the Roo Tosser carries out morning patrols after the carnage of the night – armed with a Toyota ute and a long pointed stick he stops at each dead kangaroo, spears it with his stick, then tosses it off the road. If only “What's My Line” was still running on TV this would have been a stumper for the panel (This is for older readers only!)

Reaching the very pleasant little town of Barcaldine we had a brief re-provision and then discovered “The Tree of Knowledge”. Each of these small Australian towns seems to aspire to have something which sets them apart from the rest of Australia and Barcaldine is no different – it is effectively the birthplace of the Australian Labor (sic) Party. Back in the 1890's the sheep shearers were in dispute over wages and conditions – a number of strikes were called which were ruthlessly put down and many strikers imprisoned. In 1891, under the shade of a tree standing outside Barcaldine railway station, a meeting was held which led to the formation of an organisation which eventually became the Australian Labor (sic) Party.

Barcaldine "Tree of Knowledge"

The tree itself has now died but the remains have been preserved for posterity and are exhibited outside the railway station along with a monument to the imprisoned strikers. The tree and monument are covered by what initially looks like a great, square wooden monstrosity until, on closer inspection, it is revealed as an enormous wind chime. Hundreds of large slabs of wood, shaped to resemble sheep shears, hang down and chime as they catch any passing puff of wind – most unusual.

We were heading to camp at Theresa Dam near the small town of Clermont 272k away by sealed roads, but a mere 178k if we took a dirt track. We passed through Jericho – a small town built on Jordan Creek south of Lake Galilee – with its claim to fame being home to the world's only “Crystal Trumpeters” commemorating the Israelites demolishing the walls of Jericho – Australia never ceases to amaze!

Half way along our dirt road we realised that horse-riding stockmen, although perhaps a dying breed, were not yet consigned to museums. A mob of cattle suddenly appeared on the trail before us being driven by five stockmen. When one of the beasts made a bid for freedom it was quickly ridden down and put back in line by one of the horsemen.

Stockmen driving stock

The photo, through the windscreen, didn't do justice to the occasion. Mind you we could have done with the services of a stockman a few kilometres further on when a rather belligerent beast blocked the road and didn't seem inclined to give way to passing traffic.

Where's a stockman when you need one?

Arriving in Clermont we found the Dam was about 25k away. Somehow we assumed that this was going to be a quiet campsite rather like a National Park and, like the NP's, very cheap at only $10 per night – we should have known better. As we came over the final crest we were confronted by a sea of white – caravans, and lots of them. This was Grey Nomad country in Spades. Resisting the urge to turn tail and flee we pressed on and eventually were heartened to find an excellent, reasonably flat, shady area overlooking the lake completely devoid of the dreaded caravans. I suspect the sign stating “No Caravan Parking” helped, so as the only tenters, we are alone in a sea of caravanners.