Broken Hill - Menindee - Griffith - Temora Aviation Museum - Burke

After two nights in Broken Hill it was time once again to go bush with our first planned stop being Kinchega National Park near Menindee opting to use an alternative route in favour of the normal bitumen roads travelled by the “masses”. Leaving Broken Hill we headed south along the Silver City Highway for about eighty kilometres before turning north onto Pooncarie Road, this road would eventually take us into the park but once more we were back on dirt roads and traversing some pretty ordinary countryside.

Our first point of interest was the dry Lake Tandou that is home to a massive organic farm on the lake bed. Looking through the binoculars one could see an arrangement of huge hangers, plant and machinery everywhere, and kilometre upon kilometre of crops. Exactly what they were cultivating we are unsure off as there was no signage other than to announce the entrance to the establishment however we have a sneaking suspicion that the crops may have been table grapes.

Just past Lake Tandou we crossed the boundary into Kinchega National Park with the road (track) deteriorating quite noticeably which appears to be “the norm” when entering National Parks. Continuing on we skirted Lake Cawndilla complete with signage advising that power boats were not permitted on the lake; very interesting since the lake has been bone dry for gawd knows how long, as is also the case for the adjoining Lake Menindee.

While it’s very convenient to blame “Global Warming” for the lack of water in the Menindee lake system, personally I believe that the growing of crops such as cotton and rice further upstream that require vast amounts of water to sustain them has seriously impacted on the availability of water flowing into the lower reaches of the Murray-Darling river system – ok, that’s the “greenie” side of me coming out.

After passing Lake Cawndilla and all its now defunct irrigation channels and control systems, we continued on for a few more kilometres while dodging groups of Emu’s – they together with Sheep have got to be the most stupid animal on the planet. Mita and I are sure that Emu’s possess a stupidity gene so that when they see you in the distance requires them to run for kilometres (except in the opposite direction) enabling then to dart across the road in front of you.

Reaching Emu Lake we turned off Pooncarie Road onto Emu Road (how appropriately named) making our way towards the ranger station while continuing to avoid more Emu’s – by this stage the language emanating from the driver was starting to become colourful. Arriving at the ranger station we filled out the required documentation, paid our entry and camping fee’s, then returned to the car as it started to rain; ohhh goody, here we are in black soil country and it’s starting to rain.

Leaving the ranger station in the drizzle we headed towards the Darling River and what a transformation in scenery, we had gone from flat barren plains dotted with mulga and saltbushes into a zone thickly vegetated with river gums. The track closely followed the river and was quite scenic. Surprisingly we appeared to be the only people camping in the park so pretty well had our choice of sites. After viewing several potential camping spots we decided on a site not far from the wreckage of the Paddle Steamer Providence enabling us to park the Bushtracker within metres of the river escarpment and clear of any river gums that have a nasty habit of dropping branches unannounced.

The Paddle Steamer Providence exploded back in the late 1800’s killing all its crew; it is believed the crew were drunk and had left a Chinese labourer to tend the boiler with fatal results.

First thing on Leigh’s agenda was to drop the yabby pots into the river to see if we could get a feed however two hours later when he checked the pots, zippo; oh well, it would have been nice. For our overseas friends, yabbies are a crustacean best described as similar to a small Lobster or Cray that inhabits inland water ways and billabongs in Australia.

By now the rain had become heavier so any thought of doing some sightseeing was the thing furtherest on our minds with our only concern being that should the rain continue we may well be stranded here for days until the tracks dry out as there was no way we were going to attempt to drive on wet black soil.

Following a night of listening to the rain falling and thinking about the various scenarios of being stranded for days on end we awoke in the middle of a quagmire of mud. With the sun breaking through and accompanied by a breeze, by late morning we ventured out onto the tracks to test our luck and explore the park plus nearby Menindee eventually returning to the Bushtracker late afternoon via a drive through magnificent strands of giant river gums and were now confident that our departure the following morning wouldn’t be a problem, that is unless we received more rain.

Eventually getting ourselves motivated we left via the original homestead, stopping briefly for a look, before then tackling the two hundred kilometre dirt road to Ivanhoe which we did with a degree of trepidation since there was a distinct lack of information about road conditions other than what was provided by the local service station owner in Menindee the previous day; as it happened with the exception of the last thirty kilometres the road was in pretty good condition which pretty well mirrored the information provided.

We were giving serious consideration to having an overnighter in Ivanhoe and having dinner in the local pub however after meeting a couple of farmers en-route and having a yarn to them about road conditions etc they soon changed our mind when we mentioned our plans stating that they had camped there the previous evening. Evidently the camp ground was opposite the pub and it was quite a rowdy night with little sleep happening until after midnight. Eventually arriving at the outskirts of Ivanhoe we were greeted with the usual barrage of road side billboards advertising the various services available in the town, only problem was everything was closed so if you needed anything including fuel, bad luck. And sure enough opposite the pub was the campground that had obviously seen better days.

After deciding that Willandra National Park one hundred ten kilometres further on would be a far better option we left Ivanhoe and headed south along the Cobb Highway (and bitumen) for some fifty kilometres eventually turning onto the Mossgiel-Hillston Road and back onto dirt; forty kilometres later we arrived at the turn-off for the park. The park is accessed via a twenty kilometre track that winds its way through a working cattle station however we’d have to say that the access road was a vast improvement on the “main” road. We eventually arrived in the camping area around 4.30 p.m. only to find it all but deserted. With every indication being that we were in for a cold, cold night, Leigh got busy unhitching the Bushtracker and getting that side of things organized while Mita started readying dinner. With everything under control, it was time for a few pre-dinner wines.

Next morning Leigh went for a walk to check out the surrounds plus locate Willandra Creek proper that purportedly runs for kilometres and offers visitors the opportunity to swim, fish, canoe, plus is an oasis for variety of birdlife species. It didn’t take him long to return with a report; it turned out we were camped within metres of the now dry water course, so much for all the water activities and bird life.

Leaving the camping area we followed the self drive tour across the plains and were quite taken back with the kilometres of fields bathed in a kaleidoscope of colours from the various wild flowers in bloom as a result of the recent rain showers. Of course intermingled amongst the fields were groups of Kangaroo’s and Emus enjoying a hearty feast.

Returning to the main complex we then spent a considerable amount of time viewing the historic buildings including the shearing sheds, ram sheds, quarters, mess halls, all of which are in remarkably good condition considering they have lain dormant since 1972. As for the main homestead complex, it is now utilized by the National Parks Service to house machinery, staff, and provide visitor information while the homestead itself has now been converted into a function and accommodation facility.

With little else in the way of scenery, activities or walks available that would encourage us to stay longer the decision was made that evening while sitting around the camp fire after cooking our meal over the fire to head for Griffith the following morning.

Rejoining the main road we drove the bulk of the next forty kilometres on a track that ran parallel to the Mossgiel-Hillston Road as the surface conditions on the main road were atrocious. Eventually arriving in Griffith, our first stop was at a car wash that had facilities to enable the washing of caravans and where we spent the next twenty minutes using high pressure water to dislodge piles of dried mud embedded with rocks and other debris, copious amounts of bull dust and road grime. How the heck we didn’t get thrown off the premises when they saw the state of the rigs is beyond us, especially when several other customers came over specifically to view the carnage.

With the Bushtracker and Patrol now looking somewhat reasonable we headed over to the Anglican Cathedral meeting up with friends Rob and Sharnti staying with them for the next few days; Rob is the Dean of the Cathedral. We spent the next two days socializing, restocking, and of course visiting some of the excellent wineries in the Griffith region purchasing a selection of wines to restock our home cellar.

Incidentally, the recent financial “melt down” resulted in a large number of overseas wine orders at various wineries having been cancelled hence some of the prices were definitely “bargain basement prices”. At one winery a 2004 Merlot destined for Korea were selling for $30 per carton, while at another the price for an excellent Shiraz that we had purchased previously had been slashed from $18.95 to $5.95 for a carton buy. It would be interesting to know if overseas orders from other wine regions have been impacted upon in the same way.

Friday morning arrived and it was time for us to head for Temora to view the Aviation Museum air show scheduled for Saturday and Sunday. Our only problem was accommodation since both caravan parks in the town were booked out however we had been provided with a couple of alternatives by the Temora Tourism Service to investigate and since there was no doubt they had been issuing the same information to other travellers, we didn’t feel it would be prudent wasting time getting to Temora only to find that our alternatives were full. Leaving Griffith the countryside changed quite dramatically becoming quite lush and green while crops of bright yellow Canola occasionally popping up across the landscape; it was quite a contrast to the landscape and scenery of the previous four weeks.

Arriving Temora, our first choice as an alternative site for accommodation was the showgrounds located near the airfield. As it transpired we were in luck and even though there was a group who were travelling together already there we were able to obtain a site away from them. While not Five Star accommodation, the showgrounds do have all the required necessities i.e. power, water, toilets and showers.

We later learnt that the showgrounds does have a permanent manager whom we met. After recanting our tale of trying to locate accommodation at Temora, the manager was quite annoyed that the local information service didn’t have the details and was adamant that travellers were welcome to use the showground at any time for a nominal fee.

After settling in we went exploring including doing a recce of the Temora Aviation Museum in preparation for the air show being held on Saturday and Sunday after which we decided that since it was only two kilometres away, walking to and from the venue would probably be a better option than attempting to drive there.

Saturday morning arrived and heck, wasn’t it cold? Three degree’s thank you very much. Unfortunately a father and his two young daughters decided to camp right behind us successfully putting paid to any idea of leaving the heater on all night as externally it tends to be a little noisy. It turned out the guy was a B767 captain with QANTAS and after a brief discussion he was quite happy for us to leave the heater running – thanks heavens because it was colder again.

Incidentally, is there a lower age limit to these pilots or am I just getting old? Some of these pilots don’t look like they’re even old enough have a drivers licence let alone be in command of large commercial airliners.

After defrosting, having several cups of tea with a light breakfast, we donned our backpacks and headed for the air show. I have to say, our decision to walk was wise as vehicles that passed us when we set out were only just entering the complex at the same time we arrived and taking into account they then had to park etc it was definitely quicker to walk, besides we desperately needed the exercise.

The Temora Airfield complex is quite an interest set-up. The airfield and the maintenance facilities are owned by billionaire David Lowy who was also instigator of the aviation museum which houses a variety of privately owned “war birds” ranging from a vintage De Havilland DH-82A Tiger Moth through to more recent aircraft including an English Electric Canberra and the Sabre. All the museum aircraft are airworthy and most participated in the two day air show.

Besides being home to the aviation museum, a portion of the airfield is also a housing estate with private residences with aircraft hangers abutting onto taxiways that access the airfield proper.
The two day air show was very enjoyable with flying displays by the Canberra, Sabre (supposedly the only remaining airworthy example worldwide), Gloster Meteor, De Havilland Vampire, Supermarine Spitfire, the only airworthy Lockheed Hudson worldwide, Curtis Kittyhawk, CA-16 Wirraway, CA-13 Boomerang, an FA-18 demonstration, plus many, many more. Both days were well orchestrated with the individual flying displays commencing every thirty minutes accompanied by a running commentary from a variety of speakers hence there weren’t too many occasions when there wasn’t something occurring.

And of course we revisiting the air show again on the Sunday to view the inaugral flight of the CAC Sabre and the ensuring flight demonstation in tandum with an FA-18 Hornet.

That evening we decided on a pub dinner in town however should have realized that as in the norm in most small rural towns just about everything is shut on a Sunday night. With our dinner plans in disarray, Leigh was elected cook via popular vote; fortunately for him, he had just finished cooking on the BBQ when the heavens opened up with the rain squalls continuing all night - I’ll bet the air show organizers were breathing a sigh of relief.

Awaking Monday morning, our departure from Temora was a matter of discussion as the weather was decidedly miserable making driving conditions unpleasant however by mid morning the sun started breaking through. Making a snap decision we eventually left late morning travelling north through West Wyalong and Condobolin while driving through endless fields of Canola, Wheat and Barley, eventually overnighting opposite the Rabbit Trap Hotel in the tiny community of Albert.

The pub is located approximately three kilometres off the main road and offers a range of accommodation options including free bush camping opposite the pub, something that is becoming increasingly common with many a small community in their efforts to attract passing travellers. That evening we adjourned to the pub for a country meal complimented with a bottle of wine.

While the following will probably mean absolutely nothing to our overseas friends, for the Australians amongst you the Rabbit Trap Hotel was the inspiration for Eric Jolliffe’s “Saltbush Bill” series of cartoons that appeared in most national newspapers during the 40’s, 50’s, 60’s and 70’s era. Unfortunately the original hotel is no longer in existence however the new hotel which has been erected on the original site retains a considerable amount of memorabilia and structure from the original hotel.

After a peaceful nights sleep, we left the Rabbit Trap Hotel and started heading for home travelling due north via Nyngan and Bourke ‘til we reach Charleville where we’ll spend a few days with the kids before heading back home.