Sunday I posted my weekly blog (which always takes quite a bit of time), then browsed maps and Camps 7, researched online and viewed our next potential camping spots on Google Earth. What a fantastic tool! We use it heaps to decide if a bush camp will suit us. It kinda freaks me out when it zooms in from a satellite image of Earth to a specific destination such as a street address. It happens so quickly - sort of surreal. It was late morning by the time we had blogged, done the Nomads Notes journal entry and decided our next destination would be Chinchilla Weir. We'll go have a look and if it has phone coverage, which Brian needs at the moment for work, and it's a nice spot, we'll probably stay till Friday at least. By Saturday we want to have TV reception so we can watch Bathurst (V8 Supercar racing). I doubt we'll get that there.
Before lunch we jumped in the Beast and went down to the Dawson River for a fish. It was much cooler sitting beside the river than up at the van. While Brian read (he devours books - thanks kids for our Kindles!), James and I fished. The river was fairly small, shallow and fast-flowing, so I didn't really expect to catch anything. It was lovely though to just sit and take in the sights, sounds and smells of the bush. There was a light perfume in the air - a mix of eucalyptus and something sweet, perhaps a blossom of some sort. It was delightful. All of a sudden I felt a bite, gave a jerk on the rod and voila....a fish! It was a good size too. It looked like some kind of Bream. When we examined it we could see that it was a fat female, full of roe no doubt, so she got thrown back. Aside from that I had one nibble.
After that we drove back toward the highway for a few kilometers and collected a load of wood. Even though it was in the mid thirties I planned to make bread on the fire that afternoon, and we always like to carry at least two night's worth of fires when we move. Late in the day I made a savory damper, Brian cooked a roast lamb dinner in the Baby Q and we enjoyed a balmy evening watching our last sunset over Glebe Weir - with, of course, a roaring fire (bush TV) for entertainment.
From Taroom we followed the Leichardt Highway for 124 km to Miles, passing through the townships of Wandoan, Gulaguba and Kowguran. We made a ten kilometer detour at Miles to have a look at Gil Weir. It was a rather average spot though with no boat ramp, so we gave it a miss. From Miles we headed east along the Warrego Highway to Columboola, Baking Board, then Chinchilla, just 45 km away. By the time we arrived there it was a little before midday and the temperature gauge was showing 38 degrees.
Chinchilla looked like quite a nice river-side town, larger than we expected (pop 5500) with signs of recent growth. The Kogan Creek Power Station (and other coal and gas projects) have begun to inject a lot of cash into the town and it is experiencing mass growth and development. Traditionally (since it's establishment in 1887) agriculture was the mainstay of the community, with beef and pork production, wool growing, and horticulture underwriting the local economy. As soon as we drove into Chinchilla we noticed just about every other vehicle was a white company 4WD Utes with orange lights on top, and when we arrived at the weir there were lots of very fancy power boats cruising around. A sure sign of mining money!
The carpark at the very busy aerodrome
There were lots of vans and camps already set up in the area the council has designated for camping, but being early we managed to find a great location right on the water's edge. The weir was alive with boating and skiing activity, due, no doubt, to the high temperature and the fact it was a public holiday. We were both surprised that we felt totally comfortable operating in 38 degrees. It's amazing how we must have acclimatized to the heat. It is so much easier to handle without humidity.
In the afternoon we pulled the wood out of the back of the Beast so Brian could get the trailer out, then he unloaded the boat and got it all set up. It was so busy on the ramp and in the water that we didn't bother launching. We figured it would be much quieter Tuesday. A neighbour came over while Brian was tinkering with the tinnie and cautioned us to be careful with our wood pile - there were two Red-bellied Black snakes living in tree roots going into the water just a few feet away. They might find our wood pile inviting. That sure got our attention - and certainly meant we'd be keeping a very close rein on James. We tried to find the snakes, but with no luck. We did, however, get visited by a couple of curious lizards. We made sure James understood they were a no-no as far as investigating went. He was quite happy though, particularly when I took him down by the ramp for a swim.
James insisted he needed to go outside at some ungodly hour Tuesday morning. I tried to put clothes on quietly so as not to wake Brian and managed to get my shorts on back the front. Of course the zip was not going to do up over my rather ample expanse of bottom so I ended up going out into the dark with it bare and pretty well exposed. That would have been ok if we just went to the front of the van as I planned, but James took off and I had to follow. So glad it was dark! He found a big patch of grass and proceeded to graze like a cow for 15 minutes. With multiple camps in the immediate vicinity I decided it would be wise to pop into the nearby dunny and rearranged my attire, which was a good thing cos he then lead me all around the camp, refusing to come back inside. I guess he thought he was going to throw up. I was not happy! When I finally got back to bed we were woken up just after five by the drone of traffic noise on the country road running past the dam. It was a fair distance away, but the breeze must have been from that direction. It turned out to be a continuous stream of the company Utes heading out to the mine and power station. By 6am it was completely quiet again, not that I was able to get back to sleep. We'd make sure to shut the windows on that side of the van before bed in future and I would get James to the vet. It's very rare for him to go out in the night.
We drove into town early and after a lot of searching found the one and only vet clinic. They were great. James got a good check over and was found to be a picture of health. Maybe he did have a bit of concussion from his fall the week before - or maybe it's travel sickness - who knows. At least there's nothing major wrong. By the time we got back to the weir it was blowing a bloody gale. Bugger! So much for putting the tinnie in. As the afternoon wore on the wind blew harder and harder. The van was rocking like crazy and we just about lost the awning when we decided it should be rolled up or it would tear. We fired up the genny to power our laptops and spent a few hours shut in the van. It was just too uncomfortable outside. When we got sick of that we drove back into town and put $20 through a one cent poker machine at the pub, coming out an hour later with $50. Lucky eh!
The wind had died down by the time we got back so I lit a fire while Brian hitched the boat to the Beast and got all the fishing gear ready. We were determined to go fishing even though the forecast was for more wind Wednesday. We would get up at first light, take our travel mugs with coffee and hit the water before the wind came up.
We were on the water before 6am. It was like glass. There wasn't a breath of wind, and although the air had an early morning chill about it the sun was beautifully warming. It was idyllic. The scenery around Chinchilla Weir is really picturesque. With the water level at close to 100% there were no muddy banks like Glebe. The array of vegetation that grows right to the water's edge varies from bushland to reeds to dense native shrubbery. From the boat ramp several arms of the weir branch out, each one different to the others. There are open expanses of water (great for water skiing) and wooded sections with little inlets here and there. And the bird-life is amazing.
Sipping on our coffees, we threw our lines in and just let the tinnie drift. The water was quite shallow, even in the middle of the main arms. All around us fish were jumping. There were splashes going off like mini-bombs all over the place. Some of the fish got right out of the water and were a good size. At one point we drifted toward a bank that had fallen trees hanging over the water and came across a Water Monitor resting on a branch. He was a good meter in length. As we watched him we noticed a Red-bellied Black snake sunning itself right on the bank behind him. Fantastic!
The fishing, sadly, was bad. In two hours we got one miserable bite...a big ugly smelly Carp which Brian disposed of, as required by law. Not another nibble. Bugger! We gave up and returned to the ramp all the richer for the experience, if not the catch. We were not too disheartened however - there were other sections of the weir to be explored and other bait we could try.
Mid-morning we headed off in the Beast to see if we could find the mine and power station. We followed in the direction of the peak hour traffic and eventually spotted a tall chimney stack several kilometers across wheat fields. We zigged and zagged along half a dozen country roads before eventually getting there to find a huge monolith sitting in a paddock in the middle of no-where. My research revealed the following information from CS Energy:
Kogan Creek Power Station was officially opened in 2007, making it the newest addition to CS Energy's diverse power portfolio. The coal-fired power station can provide up to 750 megawatts of baseload electricity - enough to power almost 1 million Australian homes. The power station contains the largest single generating unit in Australia and has one of the lowest environmental impacts of any coal-fired power station nationwide, with low levels of water consumption and reduced greenhouse gas emissions.
The neighbouring Kogan Creek Coal Mine supplies coal to the power station via a four kilometre overland conveyor belt. The power station is also the site of the Kogan Creek Solar Boost Project, which will showcase how renewable and conventional electricity generation technologies can be integrated. CS Energy will install a solar thermal addition at the power station to increase its capacity and improve plant efficiency.
On the way home we drove out onto the Warrego Highway, through Brigalow (population 40) to Chinchilla, then completed the circuit back to the weir.
Around 4pm we decided to have another go at fishing. The day had remained calm and despite there being perhaps 20 or so other camps around us, there was no activity on the water at all - not even day trippers. We changed bait from prawns to worms, relocated several times and spent another two hours with our lines in. Nothing....absolutely not one tiny nibble. We were a little disheartened by this time, so pulled the tinnie out, lit a fire and enjoyed a few drinks while watching the sun go down. Just another day in paradise......albeit a fishless one!
The first thing we noticed when we stirred around 5.30 Thursday was smoke. We could smell it and as the sun rose the sky took on a hazy appearance. It could have been burning off, in Queensland that happens a lot. We don't listen to news so we didn't find out why. The smoke haze hung around all day.
There were some food crumbs left on the table outside which attracted a family of Blue-faced Honey Eaters. They scraped and pecked the surface of the table clean and seemed to be calling for more. When I put the early morning kettle on I broke up a piece of bread and scattered it for them, much to their apparent delight. Even when James went outside and sat beside the table (with strict instructions not to chase them) they continued happily with their feeding and chatting. I think if you were to spend time with them they would become tame enough to hand feed. They are not at all timid.
We did the normal morning thing - reading, journal entry, costs for the previous day, photo editing and filing etc. then Brian got stuck into some work. By ten we were ready to go into Chinchilla for a coffee at Jamaica Blue, and were just about to leave when a guy camping across the way came over for a chat. He and his wife had sold their house and businesses and were on the road for the next few years. They were traveling in a Jayco Expanda (small, no annex) with their four kids aged from seven to two years old, home schooling the two older girls. The youngest, a boy, suffered from kidney failure and he required daily treatments and procedures which they managed. His medical file was sent from hospital to hospital as they moved. They were going to stay at the weir for a few days as they had an upcoming appointment in Brisbane. His attitude was 'life's too short' - they wanted real quality time with their family while they could. We thought they were pretty gutsy.
In Chinchilla we bought an oval plastic laundry basket with holes in it. I wasn't happy with the way we had James set up in the Beast. His 'car seat' was a dog bed sitting on top of a pillow thing which was perched on our golf bags laying (secured) across the back seat. Even though he wears a harness, the bed, with him in it, tended to slide off. My idea was to secure the basket with the centre seat belt by threading it through the holes, then make a bed for him in it. That way it wouldn't be able to move and he would have sides to his 'car seat' to keep him from sliding out. It would still sit on the golf bags as there was nowhere else for them to go, and they provided height anyway so he could see out of the windows. We also bought a 20 meter, 15 amp power lead so we could join it to the other two leads we had to give us enough length (60 meters) to plug into a power point that had become available at the weir.
After shopping we went and checked out the golf course. It's a 9 hole course in lovely condition with grass greens. I walked over one and it was a bit fluffy but otherwise really well maintained. The undulating, tree-line fairways showed tinges of green too - not bad given the area is in drought. I would have loved a game but Brian wasn't so keen to play that afternoon. He agreed on a morning game if we decided to stay a few more days. That would depend on whether we could get TV coverage once we plugged into power. Bathurst was the priority.
From there we headed out of town to a monument to Cactoblastis, which is referred to as 'Chinchilla's Environmental Miracle'. Apparently Prickly Pear (which was introduced by the First Fleet in 1788 to produce cochineal dye) was spreading through the area at a rate of 1000 acres per day by the 1920's with horrific consequences for land owners. Scientists were sent to the abroad to see if they could find an insect that ate it, and found Cactoblastis Cactorum, a moth whose caterpillar eats prickly pear. After testing to make sure it wouldn't have effects on other plants, Cactoblastis was released into the environment in 1926. A rearing program at the Chinchilla Field Station (among others) was established to obtain sufficient insect numbers to have an impact. Within ten years the caterpillars had apparently cleared an estimated 11 million hectares of prickly pear. The remains of the Chinchilla field station 'The Shed', can be seen in the paddock behind the monument.
We plugged into power when we got back to the van, pulled the TV out from under the bed and tuned it in. The reception was not good - Bugger!. Brian spent the rest of the day re-loading the tinnie on the Beast and generally getting ready to leave Friday. We phoned a caravan park at Millmerran, some 200 km south-east and was advised they had excellent channel 7 reception.....tomorrow's destination and a weekend of Bathurstmania!
The cheeky Blue-faced Honey Eaters were flying at the caravan window at first light Friday - presumably hassling for breakfast. I got out of bed and gave them some crumbs. They really are quite bold - and very entertaining. We were packed up and on the road before eight. It was a bit sad to leave Chinchilla Weir. It is definitely one of the best free camps we have stayed at. James got to try out his new car set. I'm not sure he was overly impressed, but it did seem to do the trick.
Rather than take the Warrego Highway to Dalby we opted for a back road. It was a quiet run through scrubby, flat country. At Dalby we stopped for coffee and did a grocery shop to stock up on supplies. It is a decent sized town with major supermarkets and stores like Harvey Norman. Millmerran was about 100 km south-east, once again on minor roads. We could have gone via Toowoomba, but that was too much like the burbs. We went through the quaint little town of Cecil Plains instead, passing through open farm country with massive wheat (I think) fields.
Millmerran is in the Darling Downs region of Queensland. The town is situated on the Gore Highway, 208 kilometres west of Brisbane. It has a population of around 1,500. It's an old, neat little place with a pretty golf course, a short main street with a pub, and a tavern tucked in the far back corner of town adjacent to the caravan park. We arrived just after midday and chose a site away from other caravans with plenty of space around it. I only paid for one night. I wanted to make sure the TV reception was ok before we committed to staying the weekend. As soon as we were parked the TV got plugged in and we had Bathurst in all its glory blazing clearly across the screen. You beauty!
Friday's Bathurst coverage went until 3pm, after which we took a tour around town before driving out to Yarramalong Weir. It is a free camp 25 km north of Millmerran. We had considered staying there but weren't too sure if we'd get TV reception, and even if we did it would mean running the generator half of Saturday and all day Sunday. Not only that but the last time I did a load of washing was almost two weeks ago and the laundry basket was overflowing. I needed washing machines. There were a dozen or so camps set up on the banks of the weir. There was a fairly extensive area suitable to get a van into, quite pretty with high water levels and a boat ramp. It would be a good free camp option if we are in the area at some time in the future, or even for a couple of days next week.
Before dinner I took James for a wander to check out the tavern behind the caravan park. I poked my head in the door and was greeted by a big, country-style bloke behind the bar who insisted I come in and have 'a bloody good look'. While James sat on the deck outside we chatted, and when I noticed there was VB on tap I knew I just had to get Brian. A few minutes later we were seated at the bar with a chardy and a beer swapping yarns with Geoff, who turned out to be the owner. Among other things we talked about how tough it is for country pubs to survive in this over-regulated day and age. Geoff felt pretty strongly that it was something of a travesty, given they have historically been the life-blood of small towns. He had some great ideas about collecting memorabilia and anecdotal stories from pubs that have closed up shop, many with over 100 years of operation, losing the characters and memories that are part of Australia's bush heritage. He talked about establishing a sort of 'dead pub memorial' at his tavern where people could contribute information. We eventually headed back to the van for a very late dinner, assuring Geoff that we would be back to continue our very interesting conversation later in the weekend.
This photo of me was taken as I was waiting to drive a V8 Supercar around seven laps of Sandown. My 60th. birthday present!
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