Avoiding the New Year crowds on the coast, we drive north through inland NSW. We find some surprisingly interesting and diverse places!
Gilgandra
Gilgandra is nestled in a bend of the Castlereagh River. It is impressive how such a small town can muster, on a New Year holiday, a fully open Tourist Office along with local produce, coffee, an art gallery and an exhibition on the Coo’ee March.
The latter is an interesting interlude in the town’s history. Dick Hitchen, the local butcher, had an idea for a recruitment drive for the army which involved a walk from Gilgandra to Sydney, hopefully recruiting one person per mile along the 320 mile route.
His brother Bill, who was captain of the Gilgandra rifle club, led the march which left on Sunday 10th October, 1915 with 25 men. On the 12th November they arrived in Sydney, with 263 potential recruits. Of these, 220 went on to serve overseas, many in the trenches in France.
They were probably luckier than those who were sent to the Dardanelles: many of the Gilgandra boys did actually return and were rewarded with land grants.
Sadly Bill became ill and died in hospital in England without seeing any action.
Annoyingly we just missed the Rural Museum whose volunteers had gone home for the day. Apparently they have an eclectic array of stuff including a good tractor line up and a dentist’s surgery!
Emu Alert!
We drove on towards the Warrumbungle National Park, passing the quaint little town of Tooraweenah. Shortly afterwards we found the Emu Logic Farm.
There was nothing much happening but a chatty lady opened the shop for us and we had a wander through the displays and talked emu.
I was impressed at the dark blue colour of the eggs which take 56 days to incubate under the male. The chicks emerge cute and striped and are friendly in their first year before turning into stroppy teenagers in their second. The female is the more aggressive and fights feet first; by the third year they are dinner!
Nothing much seems to be wasted: the meat is very low in fat and high in iron and can be bought as jerky, burgers, mince or fillet.
Emu oil is supposed to relieve joint and muscle pain and has lots of good ingredients for moisturing the body as well. Apparently the local shearers and greyhound trainers even give it to their dogs. I bought a 100 ml portion for $25 – I don’t think I will run any faster but it might help the old joints. I will report back!
We stopped to see the emus in the paddock as we left, looking very snazzy with their black frizzy mop and sleek feathers. They make a strange low booming noise which was quite curious to hear – they were probably saying bloody tourists!
Bungling Around
The Warrumbungle National Park contains the craggy peaks and spires of an extinct volvano. They create a jumbled silhouette on the skyline and have some excellent walking tracks.
We put up our tent at Camp Wambelong, on a large grassy flat by a creek. It was a peaceful spot with evening kangeroos and lots of birdlife. Even some goats turned up although I am not sure they are so desirable in the park, which shelters a remnant population of 15-20 endangered brush tailed rock wallabys. Once considered a pest and hunted for their fur and sport, they are under pressure from goats, foxes and rabbits.
Split Rock, with its distinctive cleft, loomed above us, turning a rich red in the sunset.
The following day, after a dawn heralded by the squawking of sulphur crested cockatoos, we set off on the Belougery Split Rock Circuit. This 4.6 km walk left from a car park opposite our campsite, although one word of warning: don’t set out on the signposted track from the car park, but leave on the Burbie Canyon Firetrail just beyond and branch off that to do the circuit anti-clockwise. It is a much easier approach.
The stony path wound steadily up the mountain, gradually revealing glimpses of forested slopes and rough red hued outcrops. To the west lay flat yellow plains.
The actual trail to the summit (771 m) branched off and was quite aérien to start with, but after a rest under a shady overhang (telephone reception!) we gained the top quite easily.
We were rewarded with 360° views, from the distinctive plugs which one can visit on the Grand High Tops Circuit (voted one of the top 10 walks of Australia) to the flatlands by the creek where sheep once grazed.
The rest of the circuit had a couple of small hills for us and was quite steep and stoney, but overall it was an excellent walk – just leave early in the the day in summer as it can be quite hot!
Later we checked out the visitors centre which has helpful friendly staff and a good exhibition on the volcanic origins of the area. There was also a well displayed bird nest collection.
The Pilliga Forest
The following day we drove north from Coonabarabran towards Narrabri on the Newell Highway.
This leads through the largest tract of unspoilt forest in inland NSW, some 3000 km², fondly known as the Pilliga Scrub. Once used as a source of wood for railway sleepers, the thick cypress pine, ironbark, scribbly gum and sheoak trees are now undisturbed and the woodlands contain about 900 plant species and 350 native animals.
Information on the area can be found at the Pilliga Forest Discovery Centre at Baradine. I had hoped to visit the Sculptures in the Scrub in the Timmallallie National Park section of the Pilliga which are a series of 5 aborigine inspired sculptures overlooking the Dandry Gorge but the centre warned me that the roads were not then suitable for a low 2WD. One review I read said great scenery spoilt by tacky sculptures so maybe I didn’t miss much!
The Salt Caves are 4WD only: this site has a firetower for Pilliga views and a dam for bird watching as well as a free campsite (as does the Sculptures area). Sadly, as we didn’t actually spend a night in the forest, we did not encounter the mythical yowie either! This hairy primate which lives in remote forests appears to be the aborigine version of the yeti.
Instead we contented ourselves with the most easily accessible sight within the Pilliga: the Sandstone Caves, only 35 km north of Coonabarabran.
An awful lot of effort has been put into this site, yet it is not signposted off the Newell Highway – look for a sign indicating the Yaminba Trail, but be aware of thundering road trains behind you if approaching from the south! It may be best to overshoot and turn around at the next pull in.
The car park is only a kilometre off the road and there is a 1.7 km circuit walk. There is even a loo about 100 m into the walk but as that wasn’t advertised either we had already nipped behind a bush!
This area was home to the Gamilaroi people for nearly 30,000 years and these sandstone shallow caves and overhangs would have provided good shelter. One actually contained a large rock with pecked etchings of emu and kangeroo prints, as well as axe sharpening grooves, which could be about 12,000 years old.
They are also very colourful, a mass of ochre and red strata with honeycomb weathering and sweeping indents. The path around their low hills gives great viewpoints over the Pilliga, providing a good impression of the endless scrub that it is.
Narrabri to Bingara
Sawn Rocks
Narrabri is quite a large town, pleasantly situated on the Namoi river, with an excellent tourist office on the region. Our next stop was Sawn Rocks, just 35 km out on the Bingara road.
This site is part of the Kaputar National Park and again offers easy access off the road. After a 700 m easy largely flat walk through pleasant eucalypts, figs and ferns, an imposing 40 m high deep red rock face is reached, made up of pentagonal basalt columns known as organ pipes.
These are caused by volcanic activity and the slow and even cooling of the molten rock, causing the individual crystals within it to align perfectly, so creating the natural pillars. They are best viewed after midday when they are in direct sunlight.
It is worth carrying on a little further to the pretty Bobbiwa Creek at the bottom, where broken off columns lie. In places, they look as if they have been neatly stacked up, in others they lie haphazardly giving the appearance of a ransacked Grecian temple.
There is a nice picnic area near the car park with views of the 1,512 m high Mount Kaputar.
The drive from Narrabri towards Bingara was very beautiful as we climbed up into the Nandewar hills and descended through the Killarney Gap into the fertile vallies below.
The parking area for Rocky Creek is only just off the road, and from it there is a wonderful view over a wild creek area and forest covered hills. We descended on smooth rocks and found a chain of small swimming holes that were wonderfully refreshing. An extended Indian family was embracing the Australian way of life complete with eskies (cool boxes) packed with beer, although I noticed their women still swam in t-shirts.
As the day trippers left, we grabbed the prime camping site right on the edge of the rim and settled in for the evening. Thunder and lightening approached over the hills, lighting up the slopes in spectacular fashion, although annoyingly we had to retreat to the tent as heavy rain followed.
The next morning after breakfast, we checked out a path leading away from camp and found two wonderful swimming holes a little further downstream. The water was cool and refreshing and the smooth rocks within the pools made good seats.
Although these are classed as glacial pools, it all happened 220 million years ago and is not immediately obvious. The smooth conglomerate rocks are fluvio-glacial, that is formed by moraine carried down from a glacier combined with the action of running water.
The other clue is in the dark layers of varve shale which is exclusive to glacial lakes. The fine layers occurred in the winter when the lake was frozen and still, allowing the fine material to settle to the bottom. The coarse layers occured in the summer when the water was running and carrying lots of sediment. Dropped pebbles from lumps of ice further distorted the layer.
Thicker bands of the coarse shale indicate a longer, hotter summer; a thin one a shorter milder one – it is amazing to think one can see what the climate was like millions of years ago simply by the rock in front of one’s face.
I closed my eyes and all I could hear was a crescendo of cicadas and murmuring water. It was a breathtakingly beautiful spot – a jumble of grey boulders and wooded slopes. There was a timeless peace to the whole place that I tried hard to capture in my memory.
Gold was discovered in Bingara in 1852 and tin and diamonds in the 1880’s. Although rather sleepier these days, it is a pleasant enough place and has the huge Copeton Dam for recreation. The 1936 Roxy Theatre was built by three Greek emigrants and operated as a cinema until 1958. It was then closed for 40 years but it is now fully restored with all original fittings. Peter’s Cafe is a good coffee or lunch stop.
The Myall Creek Massace Memorial
Only my husband could read the first plaque on this memorial walk, covering the white incursion into the region, and announce
“I think this is going to be a bit one sided!”
It would be difficult to be anything else. On 10th June, 1838, a gang of twelve convicts and stockmen murdered 28 unarmed aborigine men, women and children who had been given refuge on Myall Creek Station.
Due to the action of the station overseer and owner, the men were actually arrested and tried – twice (the first time they were released). In the end seven men were hanged for their part in the crime, a pivotal moment, and a first, in Australian history.
The memorial path is 500 m long and represents the winding body of the Rainbow Serpent, a powerful figure in aborigine mythology. The red gravel signifies spilt blood. There are various signposts en route outlining the events which led to the massacre and, at the end, a huge stone overlooks the slopes where it occured. The station nestles on the plains below.
It is a moving monument to a shameful episode in history and the spirit of reconciliation which it embodies is impressive. The memorial was unveiled in 2000 and at each June long weekend, there is an annual memorial service.
Descendants of both victims and aggressors have attended – I find the idea of them sitting down to lunch together slightly bizarre, but perhaps the event is symbolic as much as anything and if such recognition means a smoother future for all then it can only be a good thing.
We did some shopping and had lunch in Inverell, another pleasant country town, before heading north to Ashford where we found spacious free camping on the river in a parkland like setting. We enjoyed watching the rosy breasted cockatoos come in to roost and the noisy machinations of the apostle birds.
Texas in Australia – with Rabbits
We had a lazy day, free camping on the scenic Bunshaw Weir and standing under the overflow for a pummelling power shower. Our loitering was occasioned by fitting in with the opening hours of our next stop.
Not only has Texas, just over the Queensland border, a rather unusual name (we met one old timer who explained that he had lived there for 3 years once solely because his name was Austin) but it also has the Texas Rabbit Freezer Museum which sounded too intriguing to miss.
I like rabbits and whilst in no way wishing to trivialize the Holocaust, what Australia did to its rabbit population was pretty similar, with the added bonus that the victims were edible and had fur!
Some rabbits came over with the First Fleet and, shortly after, more arrived from Cape Town. However, in December 1859, 24 wild rabbits were released on a property in Victoria for sport shooting and the English aristocrat responsible seems to have largely been blamed for their subsequent explosion.
By 1950, when the myxomatosis virus was released with a near 100% mortality rate, they numbered in the billions. In the intervening years, whilst having an undeniably deleterious effect on the native vegetation, their existence ensured the survival of many families during the Great Depression and made rich men of others.
They were a very egalitarian resource, being collectable all year round and available to all. The working classes did not have to travel for work, could work hours to suit themselves and subsequently have more time with their families.
One rabbitoh is reputed to have trapped rabbits for 5 months, making enough money to live like a gentleman in Sydney with his family for the rest of the year.
The Texas Rabbit Works was built in 1928 and is the last processing works in existence. Rather like the Fray Bentos meatworks in Uruguay, it was designed on an industrial scale, handling some 6000 rabbits a day at its height and employing 33 people.
Local people would trap the rabbits and sell them to the factory. Schoolchildren embraced the practice and earned more than their teachers.
When myxomatosis bought an end to the boom years, the factory was able to adapt by producing ice and only closed finally in 1992. Now fully restored it reopened as a museum in 2017 and is a bizarre stop on the Texas through route.
I had mixed feelings about the place: although undeniably interesting in its coverage of an important interlude in Australian history, its depiction of rabbit destruction through trapping, gassing, shooting and introduced diseases was relentless.
The story starts at the chiller, progresses through the grading area with a quick detour to a basically furnished wooden office then whisks through the engine room (which I think is probably quite impressive if you are into those), past the skin drying area and finally into the freezer sections.
Ironically, many of the rabbits were exported in their millions to the land of their distant ancestors: England (as well as America).
Others went into a burgeoning hat industry, of which Akubra is the famous survivor. There is quite an interesting video about the production of the hats, which use between 8-14 rabbits each or 40,000 a week.
Sadly, for a product which prides itself on being proudly Australian, the rabbit ingredient – which is obviously most of the hat – is now sourced in France. Surely it is time for the factory to move on and start using good home grown Australian wool which is widely and inexpensively available – I think the rabbits have done their bit!
Staggering out under the weight of dead rabbits, we checked out the Railway Museum across the road but it was closed. The main street offered little in the way of entertainment with the usual featureless coffee shops and a bored Thai lady serving out her residency in the outback. It was time for us to get out of Texas.
