Month: October 2023

Pilliga to Lake Cargelligo

Out at a reasonable time, we chose to pick our way around the tourist spots of this great town. An old phone box and a tumbling café later, we were off.

Within moments ‘that F$%*&#@g Hema the third’ was on the field and making an impact.  At one stage we had that beast, the car mapping system and Miss Google all arguing which way to go, spitting out directions like a drunken auctioneer.

We decided to follow the big green road sign that said Coonamble 83.

Arriving by some grace of god at Coonamble, we reckoned it was a really nice place with stunning old buildings, a convenient wee spot and a good feel. It rated just over halfway up the ‘would we come and visit again’ ladder.

Ploughing on to Warren (the town, not a bloke we know) we fuelled up at Uncle Somefellas servo before skipping over the river into town for a coffee.

The poor soul. She was still wearing the graduation robes from the South-Western NSW University of Useless Contributions to Society. She had flown through her classes leaving all others in her wake. Cup, tea bag, water; it’s not that hard. Oh yes it is!! We endured the worst tea and coffee of the new millennium.

Not to be outdone by her refreshment making skills, her advice that the amazing town gallery three doors up was a must visit, would have been brilliant…….had it been open. Her potential is unlimited.

We skulked out of Warren vowing only to return for funerals of close friends and weddings with a guaranteed good feed.

Rounding the right hand corner as we slowed into town it smacked us squarely in the face. Holy stunning silos Batman. This was the most outstanding piece of silo art we had ever seen. Positioned perfectly so it is the first thing you see entering Tottenham, there were not words. Depicting primarily a massive Goanna, the detail was so lifelike, we swore it had a heartbeat .

Having been traveling the Bogan highway to this point we wondered where they all were. Funny how a small town can serve up in bucket loads. Whilst eyeing the silo, I also spotted the allusive creature in all her worldly class posing in the main street. She looked so lonely I decided to give her a ride.

Scooting through Tullamore, sighing at yet more beautiful old buildings, we made haste to Condoblin as the day was drawing short.  Condoblin is a smashing town. Kept to perfection by the local council and home to one of Australia’s biggest Ute Musters, it boasts a new multi-million dollar information centre soon to be opened, and a lovely tasteful memorial to fallen jockeys.

The real attraction however is the long line of holden utes decorated in a myriads of ways reflecting icons of the country. Condoblin is way up the ladder of re-visits.

With our friendly mapping device giving us one last bad piece of advice, we u-turned just out of Condoblin headed for Lake Cargelligo. This destination was a chance find. Planned originally just because the name sounded cool, it is a jewel in the west for NSW.

The natural lake is massive. As in really big massive. The town sits perched on its banks providing a truly idyllic setting rivalling anything in Warren for sure. We found the van park, walked the lake, relaxed and did not much.

I think tomorrow we may leave late and not go too hard. This holiday thing is starting to seem quite ok.

Cooyar to Pilliga

Oh my, how good is sleep when your head is not consumed with ‘what do I have to do at work next week?’. The night was cold, the doona was warm and the morning coffee just right. It might take a while for the internal alarm to reset though as we were wide awake to long before 5am!

First sign was a white flash in my right hand mirror. A sedan of minimalistic proportions had begun its overtaking manoeuvre. The chrome bulbar on the Kenworth towing a B-Triple trailer shone brightly with the afternoon sun reflecting magnificently, creating its own light. The outfit was a stunning site as it trundled towards us at a good clip.

No matter the two lane road, a B-Triple, Landrover towing a van and a tiny white car don’t fit. If something didn’t happen now, the Forensic Investigators would write; “White car on incorrect side of the road hit head on with Kenworth, being then driven backwards into a Black Landrover. Pick the number of dead!

As it happened the gods gave me just enough time to see the brain dead fool, jag left off the road and brake hard allowing the last ten inches of space he needed to splice the gap between the Kenworth and us.

Only once before have we come so close to not coming home under our own steam. Shaken but not stirred! I congratulated the truckie via CB on his efforts of avoidance, he returned the sentiment. We both thought the car driver was a dick. G described him more appropriately. I think he may have worked for Hema!

So the day ended poorly yet started quite nicely. We snuck out of Cooyar at about 8.30am trying not to wake the growing group of motorhome owners, all headed to the Dalby muster. As we left the town we noticed a massive horse event day in the making at the showgrounds. The population of Cooyar had multiplied. One suspected in good country style as the grog flowed into the following night, the population had again multiply with the worldwide shortage of swags taking hold.

As predicted ‘that F$%*&#@g Hema the third’ lived up to its reputation. Working perfectly for the first hour or so, it then pulled Pilates move, pointed it’s butt to the sky and blew nothing but hot air. For a moment G decided it needed to go out the window. Thank god it was shut, and the box of death lived another day.

About Millmerran, ‘that F$%*&#@g Hema the third’ jumped from the grave and put on a faultless performance for the rest of the day if you can excuse about four wrong turns into the middle of somewhere.

With a keen eye upon getting back into the car after a fuel stop, G announced she had seen a snake under her seat. She was reasonably sure it was a green tree snake. She was not sure though.  Being the good husband, but completely inexperienced snake catcher, I launched into action. None of this long wire thing to twist the snake around. No, it was bare hands for this wildlife warrior.

Tension built; within but a few seconds I had eyed the culprit and with hands as swift as lighting, bagged the little beauty. He would never again terrorise the Landrover.  He was yummy and just what I needed for a snack.

Goondiwindi came and went, as did lunch in a town that closes down on a Sunday. We entered NSW and promptly forgot all about day light saving time bouncing along in good time towards our goal.

We slid through Moree, Narrabri and ended up in the Pilliga Forest. Well almost. We realised our mate from the Hema camp had got it wrong again. Still, all the years my dear old dad spoke of the Pilliga Scrub now meant something despite it now having an evolved name moving form Scrub to Forest. It appeared to still be a large area of stunted trees desperate for a cup of water.

The last 60 odd kilometres were sprinkled with some good dirt road. We marvelled at the way Puma silenced the corrugations and just powered on until………..”Roos”. The call went out instantly making the speed drop until we entered the town of Pilliga.

The chicken Snitz and chips at the pub was….. Well we were pretty hungry so a toasted cheese on cardboard would have gone done OK.

We ate, said hello to ‘dog’ who had seen far too many litters, and retired to a cooling night. Tomorrow is another big day. The holiday will start soon.

Home to Cooyar – Unready

Unready. Maybe not a word, yet as sure as I draw breath it is a situation, feeling, state of being, reality. We were as unready for this long overdue holiday as we were for a quick case of diarrhea and a slap across the head with a blunt fish. Unready just did not do it justice.

Still fashioning the rear window stone protector at 6am out of $10 Bunnings corflute because I’m a cheapskate and could not bring myself to cough up $400 for the same commercial offering, the day already sucked. Car packing. Car re-packing. Nothing seemed to be saying get in Panther and drive.

Finally a bit after lunch o’clock we settled in and headed out. Actually it was just a bit after o’clock, because we did not get a chance to have lunch. That would be had at the ever reliable Tilley’s Café at Moore.

Arriving at Landsborough, the home of G-String, we noted she had gathered a bit of dust since last we met. Still, we packed her with goodies for the trip, hooked up and motored out via Beerwah, Peachester and Kilcoy. Fuelled up, we could almost smell the world’s best chippies at Moore, bubbling away in piping hot oil, just waiting for us.

By now we were already deep into snake country, with some of Allen’s short red, green and yellow ones going down a treat. Not not sure if there was a hole in the packer but the snakes seemed to escape pretty quickly.

We slowed, we stopped, we gasped. Our beloved Tilley’s was ‘closed for renovation’. Despair hit hard. No chips. Is there no god? With rumbling bellies we motored on.

We noted that Panther was pulling like a train today. Probably due to cool weather and damp air, the nectar diesels thrive upon. Similarly G-String was hanging in after a few twitches yet seemed to have found her comfortable place for the journey. All was well.

The Bunya Nut Café in Blackbutt stood in for Tilley’s and did a fair job. The 13 year old boy running the place cooked a two point above average burger and for G a pretty decent bacon and egg delicious. There is at least three less pigs in Blackbutt tonight given the amount of bacon he served up.

The feeling of freedom was present fleetingly before we decided to try to operate our third generation expensive Hema navigation system. Having been bitten by this creature twice before with our first many years ago being named ‘that F$&*%$g Hema’, followed by ‘that F$&*%$g Hema Junior’, a few years later, it did not take long for this new model to be christened ‘that F$&*%$g Hema the third’. Logic is simply not in the box. It’s a moody bugger, so tomorrow we expect it will work fine…..until it doesn’t.

Arriving in Cooyar at the Swinging Bridge campground we realised rain had not visited for a good time. The area was dry to the bone with dust becoming our friend. Still our usual spot up the back beside the nesting parroty looking birds, was again all ours. We parked, realised our van level was not, so levelled some more. All in all a fair day for a first on a long trip. With both of feeling the effects of maddening lives leading up to this break, we set the town on fire and were in bed fast asleep by 8pm.