York to Kalgoorlie

             York to Kalgoorlie

                            Week 45

Our Monday morning in York was of course predictable. Merv will be giggling, because he has guessed - golf. We were smart enough to start at 6:30 and lucky enough to have light cloud cover and a gentle breeze, so 18 holes was possible before the searing heat kicked in.

York is an old historic town, many of the buildings erected in the 1850’s and restored in the early twentieth century. Many are now in the stage of needing remodification again, the story of the historical old towns in this western state. We enjoyed the car museum and The Mill, an old mill now shops and art galleries. There were some amazing timber creations here that Wal would have admired. those made out of single pieces of timber were large and heavy, not meant for caravan couples.

Our caravan park here has a flock of cockatoos who are roosting here, very active in the evening and early morning. We were flabbergasted by the ranger who appeared with his double barrel shotgun and blasted the flock until a swathe were lying dead and the rest moved on. I’m sure they will return in an hour or two, so it seems such a sad way to deal with “pests”. With the west in drought, the poor birds are staying close to water, so it seems cruel on a number of fronts.

We had heard about a council caravan Park that had good reviews at Bruce Rock so we decided to take advantage on our way to Kalgoorlie. We were the only caravan, sharing the space with some Main Roads workers overnighting in the backpackers bungalows. There is a massive pool complex with water slide, beach volley ball court and cricket nets for the local youth. Incredible when you see the size of the town. The other positive is an affordable $17 a night. Having the aircon on all day and night is a must in this searing heat so we really have a good deal. The final plus was the free washing machine, where most parks are $4 a load. Yes Robyn, boring, but a fact of life that is often on our minds.

Margaret and Chris will be able to imagine Bruce’s Rock, a soak at the base of a granite outcrop where Bruce , a sandalwood cutter made his permanent camp. The town actually was not developed until around 1908 when the area was opened to farmers. Most of the time, the poor farmers didn’t get enough financial return for their crops to cover the cost of farming, hence the second job, sandalwood cutting. We met an old timer here in Kalgoorlie who used to go off camping cutting this timber, so the practice kept on well into the next century.

Once the sun had disappeared on the western horizon and the air cooled to a pleasant warmth, al fresco dining was the order of the day. Very ambient.

The next large town on our westward journey is Merredan, probably the preferred stop as the town is large with lots of shops and service businesses. After an exploratory stroll, we continued on our way, planning on overnighting in a national park further on our way. Our plans were rudely altered by a loud BANG and some bumpy, defensive driving from poor Brian who got us safely off the roadside, still rather precarious for tyre changing. Back in Esperance we had replaced the back tyres ready for the push homeward, so this tyre was only about six weeks old. Not knowing if Southern Cross, the next town west would have tyres, we stop at a roadhouse at Carabin and head back to Merredan to get the tyre fixed, or as Murphy has it, replaced. Two new tyres later and once again the budget is blown. We have yet to find out if we will get warranty, but we just have to trust they have our best interests at heart and do their best for us when the inspector does his rounds.

Our journey onward us shows us some graphic examples of how the salinity in this drought ravaged countryside has become. It looks more like a Martian landscape rather than a billabong.

Coolgardie, the place we had heard about in our primary school social studies lessons as a major gold producer is still here, only 33km from Kalgoorlie in distance but decades behind in modern development. The grand old buildings are in use, but in shappby condition and disrepair. There is not the commerce here to meld the old and new into comfortable modern living. Again, the heat shortened on desire for intensive exploration.

We have been following the pipeline that brings the water to this thirsty land over 600 kilometres, an engineering marvel in its time and still today. The older buildings in Kalgoorlie and Boulder are undergoing facelifts and are still used in modern businesses, alongside the Woolies, Coles and KMart concrete bunkers. We know what looks better, but unfortunately what is more practical for hygiene at an affordable price.So a mix is the perfect compromise.

The superpit is impressive and Brian was keen on being there for a blast. He waited an hour for the one o’clock balst and was a bit deflated at the lack of impact. Just because the ground shook, he was not totally impressed. The trucks here are huge, the wheels bigger than the original haul packs of the 60’s and 70’s.

An interesting place to visit is the Miner’s Hall of Fame, but not as impressive as the Longreach Stockman’s Hall of Fame. The entry gate is a Chinese gate and there is a memorial garden built by the Chinese, but there were no Chinese mining here in this area through history, so it is a bit confusing why they have taken so much trouble with this commemoration. None-the-less it is a pretty spot in a dirty, dry and dusty mining historical site.

Brian could relate to the more modern prospecting transport choices, but wasn’t sure he wanted to swap the comfort of air-conditioned modern travel.

Our plan across the Nullabor is to do the golf course, the first two holes for us here at the Kalgoorlie golf course. What a surprise in the desert. They have a green manicured course that is a credit to the designers, and far above my poor golfing ability. It is more expensive than our usual $10 games, but a truly international standard course recently opened. It was very hot even at 7 in the morning, so my the third hole I had a migrane, losing my clear vision for a half hour. That half hour produced my best score, so go figure that one. Brian did much better than I, but the standard would be better for Wal’s A Grade golfing skills rather than our poor hit and giggle skills. I don’t think the rest of the course is going to be quite like this, but it does give us a focus on our next leg of our journey.

So tomorrow, Sunday, will find us heading south toward Norseman before our easterly journey begins in earnest. As those of you on the east coast of Australia put up your umbrellas, spare a thought for us this week sweating away.

Cheers for another week

The Sweating Nomads