Horsham to home, via Murtoa - 01 Oct. 2016

A very special day – it was a long time coming. I'd wanted to visit here when I first found out about it 20+ years ago. For many of those years it was rarely open, and then by private negotiation – too off-putting for me. But when I decided to visit the painted silos at Brim, I thought I'd give this a try. I was rewarded with information that it would be open for the Murtoa Big Weekend, 30 Sept. > 02 Oct. This whole trip was planned around those dates.

And this is it ….

About 2/3 of the Stick Shed

The rest of it

When I walked into the Stick Shed at Murtoa, tears came to my eyes. Two years ago I was in Barcelona, visiting the Sagrada Familia … awesome! But I love the Stick Shed more:

- the vast space – approx. 900ft (275m) long, 200ft (60m) wide and 60ft (18m) high in the centre

- the stillness - not too many tourists here!

- the light – from skylights, no electricity

- the ingenuity of farmers who built this from corrugated iron, tree trunks, and quite thin metal bracing wires

It's a cathedral-like space, the purpose of which was to store wheat that couldn't be exported because of WWII.

Very few of the 560 Mountain Ash tree trunks (straight from the bush) have been replaced with metal poles. However, most have concrete reinforcing at the base, and a few have metal supports. The poles (the “sticks” of the Stick Shed) were put straight into the soil and have rotted over the years, some more than others.

It was awe-inspiring. It took my breath away. I took a lot of photos but not one of them does it justice. The place is too big, for a start. You really do have to experience it.

But back to the start of the day. I left Horsham after a good night's sleep and went back to Murtoa. The Big Weekend was just getting underway with the main street closed off, all sorts of stalls set up, the SES and CFA with hero volunteers and vehicles in attendance. I bought some earrings and what I thought was home-made jam but on closer inspection at home it's much more like the product of a cottage industry. There was honey straight from the hive but I'm not a huge fan of stringy-bark honey. And there was silverbeet and rhubarb straight from the garden but I thought the long drive home in a heated car wouldn't do them a lot of good. I did buy some definitely home-made quiche which made for a delicious late breakfast!

By then, opening time for the Stick Shed had arrived so I hot-footed it (drove really!) over there at the edge of town. At the risk of being boring, I'll say again how much I loved it. Awesome, inspiring, breath-taking, vast, peaceful. But I couldn't stay there forever.

Back again across the railway tracks, I took in a few historical sights while waiting for the art show to open at midday. An old buggy, seemingly abandonned to rot on a vacant lot, was the most impressive!

The water tower is apparently full of historical items but I backed out on seeing all the dead birds, animals, reptiles, you name it on the ground floor. Taxidermy might be a skill – or even an art – but it's not for me.

Next door was the last remaining building from an early Lutheran college plus the cap of the belltower from a building that has long since disappeared. The latter didn't make a lot of sense without a bell.

A quick up-and-down of the main street showed that I was lucky to have arrived early. There was a jive demonstration in progress, with live singer and band, but my main interest, the produce, was all but sold out.

Around the corner, the art show was a shambles. Well past opening time it finally opened. The quality of the works was not a patch on what I'd seen in the Flinders Ranges and the second-hand artworks (yes, that's how they were described) were an embarrassment. Time to hit the road!

From Murtoa, it was pretty much a drive straight home. Still plenty of water about.

Between Murtoa and Stawell

I stopped at Stawell for a leg-stretch break plus coffee and a strawberry lamington. While consuming those, I noticed a sign in the cafe saying they were vanilla slice champions. Well … couldn't resist that challenge, could I?! When I ate it later, it wasn't nearly as good as the Birchip vanilla slices.

Stawell

I had a quick stop at Ballarat too as my accelerator knee was getting a bit stiff. Coffee there too – at Macca's. I know, I know, the shame of it!

Then a pretty easy run on the home stretch. It was good to be home again, safe and sound, 3,614 km and 241 L of petrol later.

On reflection

.. This trip was an alternative to the much more costly trip along the Canning Stock Route. I'd still love to do that but being realistic …. Anyway, I've now learned first hand, what others who've done the trip before me know … the Flinders Ranges is a trip worth doing in its own right.

.. I had hoped to see the red earth of the Kimberley but that was always unrealistic. The Flinders is not quite so red and in any event, after an unusual amount of rain, plant life was lush and green beyond any normal expectations. The Ranges had their own beauty and I'm so glad I've seen it.

.. It would be good to go back and spend more time in and around Burra and the Clare Valley rather than whizzing through on the way to somewhere else. It's not so distant that that's an impossibility. I'd love to stay in the Paxton Cottages again!

.. I did manage to do and see all the things I wanted to do in the Mallee, in spite of it Raining A Lot. The Mallee, in fact everywhere I went, has also had an unusual amount of rain so being able to achieve all that I wanted couldn't be taken for granted in the end.

.. All good.

.. Deo gratias.

Birchip to Horsham - 30 Sept. 2016

Now this was a busy day, zig-zagging across the Mallee. But first stop before leaving Birchip was Sharp's Bakery – a last-ditch attempt to get another vanilla slice. Still in the oven. How long? 10 minutes. 30 minutes. Hmmm, what to do? First, admire the fascinators in the next door shop, getting ready for Melbourne Cup Day.

The two places I hoped to visit required a phone call first to check if they were open. So I went and sat in my car to make the calls. Both OK. When I said where I was in reference to how long it would take to get to Yando, Marilyn at Simply Tomatoes asked if I could pick up half a dozen vanilla slices for her too! LOL Luckily, by the time I'd made my arrangements, said goodies were available and I was able to set off with my half-dozen +1.

Did I mention both of these places are at/near Boort - another of my 'B' towns.

Lots of water in the Avoca River ... and it had a lovely bridge to cross!

On the (wrong) road to Yando - but not a problem at this point

I intended to go to Simply Tomatoes first but taking the wrong turn and following Google maps to the wrong end of the road, I was confronted by a stretch of road that had been overtaken by Venables Creek … and I'd left the car's water-wings at home. So back the way I came and now, running out of time, first I went to see the SpannerMan, John Piccoli, who makes the most amazing sculptures out of spanners. At one point I thought I might not make it - thought I might get bogged when the car went slip-slidey in some mud. But all OK, thank goodness!

The Spannerman (yes, in a wheelchair) and one of his creations

Eagle and prey

Marlin on the line

The SpannerMan also collects birds and although he has some rare, colourful varieties unknown to me, but I must admit that wasn't what I came to see.

After a tour of the birds and gardens, with history and explanations, there was time to wander at leisure, which I did before heading off to the right end of the road to reach what had originally been planned as my first destination.

My favourite ... and this thistle would fit in my garden too!

Simply Tomatoes was fun!  As I handed over the vanilla slices, I apologised for mucking around with the times and Marilyn apologised for blurting out her request - which I didn't mind in the least ... you couldn't say I went out of my way!
I caught the tail end of some other customers buying wool products because the other half of this business is making quilts, pillows, heat pads, you name it from wool from local farms. All very interesting. Then Marilyn brewed coffee and prepared my own personal tasting plate of the farm's tomato products. Yummmm!! Breakfast!

I bought a few samples then it was off to see the kitchen where all the processing is done (so many tons of tomatoes processed in what looked a tiny space to me) and to have a look at the shipping containers, buried in the ground, where the processed tomato products are stored at a constant temperature prior to sale and export.

Looking down into the underground shipping containers

Not to mention the beautiful homestead and the too cute geese!

This was all fascinating but I had such a lovely time because of the personal touch of doing the vanilla slice errand – which, of course, was no trouble at all. Just shows how little things can make a big difference.

I have to wear 2 kg weights on my ankles for some of the exercises at my balance class. This was the opposite. I left there feeling like I was buoyed up by soft, fluffy clouds.

It was handy that I felt like that because I had a bit of a drive ahead of me in indifferent weather. There was water on the roads in some places but thankfully, not enough to cause me trouble … and the rain held off pretty much the whole way to Horsham.

I don't think all that water is supposed to be there!

Not too far down the road, I stopped at Wycheproof for lunch – at the Bakery on Broadway. Loved this place! Wouldn't mind if it were my local!! It was chockers, much of the day's goodies had been sold already, and the staff were run off their feet – one of the few places open for miles around on account of the day-before-grand-final public holiday.

Bakery on Broadway at Wycheproof

Right next door was an industrial art “showroom”.

Not so sure about these in my garden. Hmmm?

Then it was the steady drive to Horsham, just beating the rain and just arriving at the caravan park before the office closed for the day. En route I passed through Murtoa so I knew where I'd be heading the next morning.

Sun and rain clouds fighting it out

I knew I'd found the place when I saw caravans in the street. I drove in, not realising that those caravans were queued to book in. Oops! I might have unwittingly jumped the queue but as I'd booked a cabin, it only took a minute to sign a bit of paper and get the key.

Then, instead of the RSL for tea as planned, the caravan park operators directed me to the local sports & social club. A group of locals got together some years back and decided, if pokies were coming to town, they'd make sure the money stayed in town. Smart move! And the pork wasn't bad either! .... Finally, back to the cabin in the caravan park to polish off that vanilla slice :-)

Berri to Birchip - 29 Sept. 2016

It had stopped raining when I woke up at Berri's very own Fawlty Towers. I showered and set off as quickly as I could, figuring there wouldn't be much on offer for breakfast anywhere in Berri, as everyone started to recover from the blackout. (Little did I know then that the blackout was to last for several days.) I also hoped to get to Birchip, the day's destination, as quickly as possible so as to avoid the worst of the forecast weather. Ho hum.

Rain had started to spit by the time I got into my car and it kept on raining. I was thinking: get across the border where at least they wouldn't have been affected by the blackout. Just as well the petrol pumps were operating. I fill up each morning having all but emptied the tank the day before.

It turned out to be a pretty awful day's driving, again missing some of the towns I'd planned to stop at. The road from Renmark, not far on from Berri, to Mildura is relatively flat and relatively straight but … that's a bit deceptive. There are enough slight rises and enough curves to considerably reduce the chances to overtake slow-moving vehicles. There is not one overtaking lane in that whole 140 km stretch of road. There are a few rest areas that slow-moving vehicles could pull into to let long tailbacks past but none of the drivers concerned took the opportunity. In fact, they appeared oblivious to the effects of their driving.

Suffice to say, being caught behind several caravans and other slow movers, the leader of which was doing 80 in a 110 zone, then with a tanker catching up directly, too closely for comfort, behind me, then more vehicles catching up behind that, did not make for relaxed driving. This went on well over halfway to Mildura. The single car in front of me was finally able to make a move. Before I got the chance, the tanker behind me pulled out, overtaking several vehicles at once. I was waiting for a head-on crash. Finally, I too was able to move. The driver of the lead caravan appeared totally relaxed and oblivious of other road users. Grrrr! It took until after brunch in Mildura for my adrenalin levels to settle.

The other negative of the day was discovering the poor design, and I suspect lack of maintenance in some cases, that made driving more difficult and in one case potentially lethal. Mud flaps! Those on 4WD vehicles were invariably bad – as, sadly, is my little 2WD. Caravans, often pretty bad. Trucks – surprisingly, better than 4WDs in the majority of cases. Others were pretty bad. And in one case, one truck threw up so much muck it covered my windscreen completely rendering visibility to zero. This was on a slight bend not long after crossing the opening bridge (across the Murray) at Paringa, just out of Renmark. Thank goodness the wipers did their job quickly and the car maintained the correct curve on the road. If I'd crashed, would any evidence of that blinding experience have remained?

What a difference a line on a map can make. Driving to Mildura, I was surprised to see more pasture than grapevines. On crossing the border back into Victorian it was … scrub!

I stopped at Hopetoun for lunch, a much smaller town than I thought it was. Poor service at the cafe. If ever there's a next time, I'll try the bakery. I got just a little bit drowned dashing from my car to the local loo facilities!

Main Street, Hopetoun, from 'inside' my car!

After brunch I stopped only long enough to get wet again taking a photo of the Speed sign – a tiny township!

The Mallee-Wimmera part of my holiday was originally planned as a “B seeing Victoria” road trip, much as my “C New South Wales” was back over New year 2012-13. This was to be Birchip, Brim, Beulah, Boort, finishing at the Stick Shed in ... Murtoa!

The first B, Beulah, was also very small.

Next, Brim. 

Brim ... also through the windscreen!

The site here was the main reason for the whole NW Victoria visit. The painted silos at Brim were as brilliant as anticipated. But with rain bucketing down, my vision and enjoyment were somewhat limited. At least there was no sun in the wrong position to make my photos a washout! Silver lining to all those clouds :-)

Brilliant! ... even in the rain

The (normal-sized) door at centre bottom of the left-hand silo
gives an idea of the size of this project

My car parked in a sea of mud and water - most unusual for the region

I then planned to cut across country to Birchip but decided, given the weather (constant rain), that going the long way and sticking to main B roads might be safer than changing to C roads. Didn't read the map too closely, did I?! From Warracknabeal it was a C road to Birchip! But … that worked rather well. The edges and the shoulders of the road were in worse condition than the B roads but, being used less often, they hadn't developed the indentations that greater use caused in the B roads – which the rain filled with water in elongated puddles that were less than pleasant to drive through. About halfway to Birchip though, the road surface became quite rough. Aah yes, change of shire and responsibility.

Finally, Birchip. Aaaaarghhh!!!! The bakery had sold out of their famous award-winning vanilla slices! Disaster! I asked if they would have more in the morning – no guarantees, being on restricted hours for the football grand final public holiday - only in Oz! Just as well I'd got one on my way through at the start of my trip :-)

At last, to my hotel. An exceedingly popular local pub! Thank goodness I discovered the dining room – the main evening eating area was full, and the noise deafening with feral kids, one of whom kept blasting a klaxon horn just to add to the mayhem. In comparison, the soap opera on the TV in the dining room was bliss. When I was the only one left, by which time a footy show was on, I turned it to the ABC. It didn't take long for a staff member passing through to change it back to commercial rubbish, without a by your leave. The food was OK. And in spite of all the noise in the bar, I've managed to get my blog drafts up to date.

Late afternoon sunshine at the Birchip Hotel

My room is small but adequate and I will have the oil heater on all night. Letting the place down is the lack of cleanliness. The bathroom down the hall hasn't had a clean for … some time. I won't be showering in the morning!

Rawnsley Park Station to Berri - 28 Sept. 2016

Time to leave the Flinders Ranges  :-(

I was a bit of a novice at staying in a caravan park but the staff were lovely and helpful. The cabin at Rawnsley Park Station was more than adequate. RPS has other accommodation too - for tents and caravans, cabins with en suite bathrooms, and 'eco villas' designed for those with cash to splash. Having 'got the lie of the land' and seen a little bit of the accommodation at Wilpena pound, if I go again (I'd like to!) I'd choose RPS over Wilpena every time.

Last view of Rawnsley Bluff

I didn't realise until later in the day that, while showering in the morning, having left me alone until then, mozzies had made a meal of me. Itchy!! I left in fine weather, ahead of forecast rains. I hoped to escape that.

Heading to the Rawnsley Park gate and the road to Hawker

First stop Hawker, for petrol. There I spotted a quilt and art exhibition – naturally I couldn't resist. There were also lots of fabulous home baked goodies, jams, chutnies, etc. I'd have stocked up if the provisions hadn't had to survive three days in the car before getting home. Also knitting, sewing and some beautiful dyed silk scarves.

As I left, the first spots of rain. A portent of things to come.

Hawker Uniting Church

I'd set myself more driving than I should have so cut out some small towns that had been on the itinerary and cut across country instead. Given that the rain increased, that was a wise move. The drive became unpleasant when, after turning off to Orroroo, I got caught in the middle of a car rally – the Mystery Box Rally, raising money for the Cancer Council I learned later from google. A good cause and they obviously raise a lot of money but I was singularly unimpressed. I got caught in the middle because I pulled over for the lead car. It had a flashing light so I thought an emergency or working vehicle of some sort. Nothing of the kind. The cars that then passed me were emblazoned with different slogans, all of which you would associate with yobs or bogans. And some of them certainly drove like that.

I stopped at Orroroo because there was another Flinders art exhibition there. When I couldn't immediately see it, I asked at the local shire office. In spite of the advertised dates, the Orroroo exhibition had finished a week earlier. Not amused. I'd thought of having coffee there but with the rally drivers having the same plan I hot-footed it out of town to escape them.

On to Peterborough where, with no sign of the advertised Flinders art exhibition I kept driving as a section of the rally drivers had beaten me there for coffee.

Escape at last! It had also become very windy. The door was nearly ripped off the car and I was all but blown away when I stopped at Hallett for a leg-stretch and a couple of muesli bars to sustain me.

Hallett Library - doesn't look like it opens much, if at all

Then on to Burra for a late lunch. As I arrived the thunder and lightning started. When I went into a cafe it seemed very dark – only moments before their power had gone out. Someone was on the phone organising an electrician for the next day. That wasn't going to help, as it later became known - the whole of South Australia had lost power.

Looking ominous at Burra

After lunch the rain had stopped and pretty much all the way to Berri I was following a rainbow. It was rather lovely and eased the tension of the stressful section of the day's drive. Little did I know what was ahead.

Chasing the rainbow

As I arrived at my Berri Hotel the rain started again and when I went inside, more darkness. The stay here became a cross between farce and the surreal. I had to call reception to let me out of the room I was given. A broken door handle and dodgy lock had trapped me inside. I was given a new room. It hadn't been cleaned since the previous occupants had departed. A third room. Seemed OK. I went to sit and read in a lounge area with a gorgeous view over the Murray. 

Paddle steamer and houseboats on the Murray at Berri

When it became too dark to read I went to have dinner. A choice of Caesar or Greek salads since there were no cooking facilities. Eaten by candlelight in an atrium where I could see the lightning flashes above me.

Dinner by candlelight!

On finishing the salad I ordered a drink before dashing upstairs to get my tablets. The dash took a while. The ceiling was leaking. Moved to my fourth room!!!! This was an upgrade which meant I had a full ensuite bathroom. The three previous rooms were “budget” class and had a shower and hand basin but the loos were down the hall. Mind you, the fourth room was Fawlty Towers too – the bar fridge was faulty and had been pulled out of its alcove so you had to walk around it. This room also had the same fabulous views over the Murray although a bit dark to see by now.

When I finally got downstairs they gave me my drink for free. I settled down to write a blog draft when I was ushered upstairs. “For health and safety” they were clearing the ground floor! Thus, for the first time since goodness knows when, recent illnesses excepted, I was in bed before 8pm! Surprisingly, I fell asleep quite quickly and awoke about 1.30am to find power restored. Quickly plugged in my phone to recharge! Then I fell asleep again, not waking until about 7.30am. How about that!

Wilpena Pound - 27 Sept. 2016

It was off to an organised start to the day. I'd booked a seat on the Wilpena Pound shuttle bus to cut out a bit of walking (part of which I'd walked the previous day). Lazy but glad I did it, for two reasons – firstly (in hindsight!) it was to conserve energy for not much later, secondly, the driver gave a couple of bits of fascinating info.

Along the road to Hill Homestead

In the short section of the walk that I did yesterday I'd noticed a lot, and I do mean A Lot!, of fallen trees in the creek. The last bushfire in the ranges was in 1988. This was followed the next year by massive floods which washed all the dead, fallen, burned trees down the creek. The driver said the creek has only flowed six times in the past three years so water there is not the norm.

Fire and flood debris in Wilpena Creek

Horizontal tree - enough roots remained undamaged to keep the tree alive when it fell
... and now the branches grow vertically

However, near the creek but not part of it there is what looks like a small pond. Wilpena gets all its water from what is a natural spring. The water keeps on bubbling up but only ever to the same level. The shuttle bus driver said no one knows how deep the spring is in spite of people such as Navy divers having tried to fathom it.

And thus we reached the drop off point for a very pleasant 1 km walk to Hill Homestead – Hill being the family name of the first/early inhabitants of the small cottage. 

Hill Homestead through the trees

From there it was up, up and away to Wangara (pronounced Wongara) lookout. I didn't think I was going to make that one. 

Looking down to Hill Homestead from part way up to the lookout

But it was so worth it! The lookout gives an excellent view of the basin that is the Pound and is opposite the gap in the hills that is the only “break in the walls”, so to speak.

Partial view of the Pound - need to be in the air to see it properly

The gap in the Pound 'wall'

Adding to the wildlife tally – the rear end of an echidna, beetling it's way into a rock crevice, and various types of lizard – but mostly off and away before I could get my camera out. This fellow was more green than the photo shows.

A lovely little green-ish lizard

Waiting for the return shuttle bus, this raven was quite happy to walk around, even joined me on my seat. They look mean when flying but close up this looked a very friendly fellow.

Friendly, inquisitive raven

At Wilpena visitors centre, by a busy caravan park and campground, were an emu and two chicks … no doubt accustomed to people, given the location, so it was easy to get up close.

Emu and chicks ... soooo cute!

And at the Old Wilpena Homestead, a skink or two. 

I did walk across the creek today, to get to the homestead grounds.

Wilpena Creek - at the Old Wilpena Homestead

The homestead would have been a bustling place in its day. But now (until some other people arrived) the silence was palpable. I could really live with that.

Old Wilpena Homestead

Outlying buildings

Bookkeepers hut (R) and Motor house (L)

Cemetery ... beautiful and peaceful

Back in the day, being sent to the dog house or the chook shed would have been something else!

Dog houses

Chook sheds

A modern "meeting place" has been constructed on site. Quotes from descendants of the original inhabitants of the land, i.e. Aboriginals, are set in tiles in the floor of the circle. There are only brief signs of explanation but I gather that on guided tours this is where groups meet to get a more detailed history of the place. In the meantime, it's a peaceful place to sit and reflect.

The Meeting Circle

The lower left quote is sad and damning

For my last night, instead of making do with frozen meals from the camp shop with spinach leaves that I'd bought in Port Augusta to fill my warfarin demanded vitamin K quota, I treated myself to dinner at the Woolshed Restaurant, another offering at Rawnsley Park. Service so-so, food only a bit better than OK - disappointing really, although the venue was lovely.