Thurloo Downs. Pt 2. The buildings

Shearers quarters.

Last post I spoke of the people of Thurloo Downs, and their pivotal role in its pastoral history. However, everywhere you look lies evidence of an older people- Aboriginal heritage- spear heads, rock knives. You walk over it -unaware. But they still exist, in the landscape, in the colour of the soil, in trees and grasses. We, as Australians need to embrace it. This soul this place has. One cannot exist without the other.


Original Building. Circa 1880-Plummer Cotter and family would have known this home.

The buildings we as "white fellas" put in place for me are comforting. From one of the first dwellings, to the managers hut, the shearers quarters, the shearing shed and finally the grand old home. Total functional statements of achievement and pure hard work. Irish men and women blending and bending with the terrain, to form a unique bond. A bond even I could feel. If you read this and have Irish heritage in Australia- chances are you have dark blood in your veins too. Be proud.


Overseers Hut.

I wondered about, and felt the history in every sense. From the start- those aboriginal men and women, the "development' ( do we really "develop" anything?), right through to today. The shearing shed was built in 1928. Every beam numbered to a corresponding beam. Every joint bolted and riveted. A testament to British engineering. This shed could be pulled down and rebuilt exactly as it should anywhere on the property.

Managers Hut.

Being a working station the shed is full of wool, lanolin, and the grease of the men who worked there- turn on the lights and its ready to go for next season.

The shearers quarters not so- Its hard to get men to work now, and harder to maintain the the old buildings.. and they require a lot of it.

I wandered past the old tennis court- I could hear the "thwak" of a tennis ball on cat gut, I wandered past the tack shed, and the remains of a veggie patch. I thought of the Chinese gardener.

Donkey Heater ( email me for details!)

You see, this is a place where the machinery of man come second to the well being of the stock. We need to get back to this grass roots approach. Where a stockman can sleep in the sand and stare at the stars, knowing the stock will be ok because he is there. Where the cattle dog knows his place and will work to the end fearlessly, because thats what you want. Where the poetry of the "clever man"* and the poetry of Henry Lawson intertwine as part of the landscape.

Cemetery.
This is not a land for us or them. We dont own it, it owns us. It will embrace you, or kill you. There is no choice. I walked on and in my short time there saw much.

(* Clever man is an aboriginal elder who was the medicine man and the keeper of stories.)

Part three next week- the homestead and shearing shed.

Australian Cattle and Sheep Stations Pt 1

On my way to Wanaaring, n/west NSW.

The statistics are humbling- 1.3 million acres, (the largest privately owned land holding in Australia), 30,000 head of sheep, 6000 head of cattle. The boundary fences are approximately 80kmx80km. It takes 3 days simply to drive around the property and is situated north west of Wanaaring towards the Hamilton gate on the NSW/QLD border.

To put it in perspective- It's the size of the Sydney basin. The owner, Peter is 75, his only help comes from his son, Mick, a couple of employees, a team of dogs and a few motorbikes. His partner, Wendy, maintains the house, cooks for the men and looks after the residential gardens, shopping. Hard workers are difficult to find now.

The day begins on sun up and ends on sundown, except for Wendy, who works late into the evening. Her work is vital and she does not stop.. Peter himself has worked on Thurloo since he was 13, and will be buried there. A big man, tall, strong and capable of out working any of his staff. He moves with the ease of a man who has spent years in the saddle. (For my American readers- John Wayne comes to mind.) He defies his age.

After 12 hours of driving a cold beer at Wanaaring pub was most welcome.

Two Irish backpackers came to work at Thurloo, they arrived, burst into tears and hitched back after one day. It's not easy and it's not for everyone. I wondered even more how the men and women coped with the massive change arriving from England and Ireland all those years ago. I guess the tears from the two backpackers says enough.

The end of a day is celebrated with 2 beers at the bar, and the evening meal with a glass of wine or a scotch. Its "Old School", and marvelous. Peter sits at the head of the table, and, as I was taught, I waited until he was served before I started. At the end of the meal a pot of tea, and a chat. The table is re-set for the following day.

Who needs a map when you have a road sign like this?

The simple courtesies that are so important in a harsh environment.Its my view that Thurloo is in the top 5% of finishing stations in Australia. By that I mean to put weight and shine on a beast its 75% the property and 25% the owner or manager. Thurloos cattle are in superb condition as too are the sheep. Quote " Some blokes are into the plant and equipment to run their place. I'm not. I work for the animals they are my priority".

Peters attitude is clearly on display. Even a mob of horses are in excellent shape. I think Peter is a little humble when he credits himself with only 25% of the result.In asking him how he manages to do all of this, he replied "Oh well, there is a ton of other work that has to be done, but you just have to put it on the back burner because you cannot get staff and so you have to do most of everything yourself". "The greatest help in the last 50 years has been the motorbike, the UHF radio and poly pipe."
I asked Peter what he enjoyed most- " Showing the young blokes what hard work is". And he does. In the peak of the season Gyro copters are used to assist in mustering. I guess the mining boom has taken the staff away.You will never see men work as overseer for much of their life on one property as Jim Cotter did on Boorara. Now they come and go.

Thurloo Downs "driveway"

Wendy took me out to the mailbox- 100kph across the terrain where there is bearly any indication of a track. Like Peter she was born to it. The groceries are delivered by mail and there is a load swap..on the side of the red road, a road thats as wide as a 4 lane highway.As I said- It is a harsh place but there is an incredible softness too.

The Berrawinia creek is home to water rats, fish, and the bird life is fabulous. Yet only a few hundred yards away from this is the read sand and soil. The colours- this contrast the rich blue of the sky, the red of the soil the yellow of the grasses and the variety of greens are a rich backdrop to this beautiful place.

To be continued...

I'm Off!

 My last trip to the corner country. Crossing a salt pan.

I  am  excited to say  that I  have received the phone call from  the owners of Thurloo Downs and will head out early  next  week to visit. At 1.3 million acres its the largest privately  owned land holding in Australia, and features in our Australian history  and specifically  in my  family  history.

The road surface in the "Corner Country" rocks as large as house bricks in some spots.

It was 2006 since I was last  out in that part of the country. It  has always held a fascination for me long before I  realized my  close family links to  the area. The Bartons, Dunks, Kennedys, Howchitts and the Goodes all are linked to us.

Flocks of Budgies make a beautiful sight!

I  am  not sure what I will  feel wandering through a historic home and property where the ghosts of family  past  still linger. All I  know is- it will be amazing.

Its about a 12 hour drive on some rough roads and with  all the floods it should be interesting. The bird life should be good too!

Mt Banks

Sat map showing the trail.

I have posted many times before about Mt  Banks and its a favorite of mine for walks and mountain bike rides. The views are stunning and the tracks and trails are easy  and well defined in the main.
There are also less defined trails, that lead to wonderful lookout points and wander deep into gullies.

Brown-headed Honeyeater. (photo c/of "I animals.com")
For the inexperieinced I would strongly  suggest sticking to the main fire trails, (its easy  to  get lost), and respect the cliff edges as its a loooong way  down.

My  ankle felt fine and I  thought in order to  get fit again another walk was in order. I  spent 2 hours on the trails and enjoyed the bird life, some I  had not seen before which  was a thrill.  A simple lunch  of chicken and cheese sandwiches, banana and an apple kept the fuel levels up in the 11c conditions.

All in all a fantastic way  of spending a few hours.

Fan-tailed Cuckoo. (photo c/of "A matter of flight").

Birds seen:- White-eared Honeyeater, Eastern Spinebill, Welcome Swallow, White-cheeked Honeyeater, New Holland Honeyeater, Variegated Wren, Fan-tailed Cuckoo, Brown-headed Honeyeater, Pied Currawong.

Wet Weather

With wet weather continuing, the boys decided they should get out in the mud and ride. So they did.



Both Honda 250 "R"s are very quick race bikes. Logans is a 2008 model and apart from some cosmetics, different exhaust and a slightly different engine position in the frame , they are essentially the same bike. (Logans is on the left with dual exhaust).

There were three major accidents on the track. One rider tried to copy Logans wheel stand, flipped his bike and landed on a rock. He required immediate attention. One rider "High sided" his bike flipping himself over the handlebars and nearly resulting in the following bikes running him over. However the third was hilarious! A rider chose to ride across the water soaked central paddock- flat out he went, then instantly dissapeared. There is a 6 foot drainage channel in the centre he failed to see. No injury, only one drowned bike and an ego shattered!

So, these were the results for us- Two very muddy motorbikes and two very muddy guys!


A great afternoon had by all.

Newnes Plateau

The Coach Road. The start of the walk.

With rain belting down and parts of Sydney in flood, I thought rather than sit inside doing nothing, lets go to the Newnes railway tunnels and see what we can find.
It has been about 4-5 years since we were there last and I was curious to see what changes had occurred. The history of Newnes, the township and the railway is a fascinating piece of Australian history and I blogged about it here:- http://dailybitsnbobs.blogspot.com.au/2007/10/newnes.html (Somehow I lost all my earlier posts on my blog).


The Coach road was restored several years ago and is still in excellent order.

The drive in was a mixture of fun and sadness all rolled into one. As Sydney has got larger more and more people visit the Newnes Plateau, motorbiking, and 4x4ing. In years gone by there have been beautiful, well kept places to camp in a variety of spots. Forestry NSW kept the pine plantations tidy and roads in good order. This has changed. The camp sites are dirty, polluted affairs with the amenities blocks are long gone. Some of the trails are chopped out eroded gullies- fine if you want to test your skills in driving. Awful to look at.


The Gantry. Could this have been used for a counter weight to assist the coaches?

Forestry had cleared a lot of pine leaving sections looking scared and desolate. We took a wrong turn which turned out to be a bit of fun as we tried to find the original road in. Eventually we did.
Our plan was to walk the Coach Road, joining the old railway escarpment track and follow this through the 400 metre tunnel number 2 and return to the car via the Pagoda track.


A cutting on the Coach Road.

The Newnes Plateau is about 1200metres above sea level and the walk has a great deal of variety as the Coach Road winds down into the Newnes valley.
Looking carefully, you can see the grooves created by the coaches in the sandstone of the road, blast holes where the engineers removed rock to create the road and a gantry. I am speculating here- My theory is that the gantry held a counter weight. Placed at the top of the steepest section of road a cable could have been connected to the coaches to assist in the climb. The weight being lowered to do so. Also attached to the rear of a coach to brake the descent. If anyone reading this could enlighten me I would be grateful.


Beautiful trees in the gully as we descend.

The Coach Road drops from a height where distant pagodas look like Asian temples, into a stunning rainforest environment. Tall gum trees, and tree ferns litter the gully and the sound of Bell Minors, Thornbills and Currawongs fill the air with song.
The rain at this point had eased and we made good progress. The rains over the past few years have really improved the health of the plant life. One thing we did notice as we walked was recent cracking in the cliff faces as well as smaller rock falls along the track. Before long we were at the junction of the railway track. We stopped to enjoy lunch, and before long we were greeted by a Rock Warbler. These wonderful little birds have a very tiny range and are reliant on the sandstone escarpments of the Hawkesbury and Blue Mountains. I can go for ages without seeing any. Then, as if all the environmental indicators are right, stumble on quite a few.


A railway sleeper slowly disappearing under a rock slide..

We continued our walk and my disappointment grew as I saw stone walls in collapse, via-ducts washed away and more cliff face fractures. The area is becoming increasingly unstable. Only tiny remnants of the railway line exist- a railway sleeper here and there, some evidence of structure and piping. If you google Newnes Railway images you can see just how over time the bush is reclaiming its own.


Engineering works being swallowed by the rainforest

I have mixed feeling about this- Our heritage is not just about about our basket weaving past, nor our natural wonder. Its also about claiming the wonderful engineering feats of our grandfathers and grandmothers. Its about recognizing what they did and preserving it. We do not do this very well in Australia.


Yours truly crossing the creek towards Tunnel number 2

We pushed on and it was not too long before we arrived at Tunnel number 2. Now encased in Tolkien rain forest growth.
The railway tunnels are know as glow worm tunnels, These tunnels are amazing. Number 2 is 400 metres long and cut through solid rock. Once you leave the light of the entrance behind "stars" begin to appear above your head. Glow worms. It's just simply beautiful.


The rainforest.

On the other side of the tunnel the rain began in earnest. My wet weather gear failed, and I resigned myself to being soaked. We turned left onto the Pagoda track and began the climb back to the car. Once again I hit the "wall", as I did in Barren Grounds and had to "push in and concentrate on walking". Soon we arrived back at the comfort of the vehicle.


By dull torchlight the eerie reminder of railway inside the 400metres of pitch black tunnel

We had a fabulous day. The challenge of driving through flooded creeks and bog, being lost briefly and the walk. It was much better than sittiing at home.


Exiting the tunnel on the south side.

I am going to write to National Parks to express my concerns about the track and its safety in sections, also about preserving our wonderful heritage both in engineering and naturally.

Birds seen. Currawong, Australian MAgpie, Bell Minor, Yellow-rumped Thornbill, Rock Warbler, Crimson rosella, Laughing Kookaburra, Lyrebird.

farewell X. hello R

Isn't it lovely??
In amongst my art collection, record collection and sculptures, sit some nice bikes. Today I bought a Honda crf250r. LIke the crf250x, (which I bought before Christmas), its loaded with goodies. Unlike the X its stripped down and lightened for racing- and light it is!!


Traditionally, I have always brought the new bike into the home. This tradition started when I was a kid and moved into adulthood. Today it continues and the R sits proudly with Guillem, Faure, sculptures and paintings... ( Its all about performance).
I will miss the X and the R is higher maintenance... however the results should be good


Tomorrow we break it in... ( mmnnnn I must hang/sell those damn paintings)