Not a black Commodore

Bird of the Day:  A very rare bird, which I won't name ro protect it.  It was given a bit of competition by Major Mitchell Cockatoo (not common for us, and spiffy) and Black-faced Woodswallow (2^nd ever for me) who engaged in a vulgar brawl on the red carpet.  A late contender (17:13) was a pair of Red-tailed Black Cockatoos.

Plant of the Day:  Eremophila (Emu Bush) as it was in flower and spiffy.  Close contenders because of being interesting were the Leopardwood Trees (Flindersia maculosa).

Scene of the Day: Grey flood plain of the Darling – largely because of its vastness.

Art of the day:  The old fencing rig ute at Newchum Hanger.  The paint job was eclectic and reminded us of our favourite work by Emily Nganwaree

Typically Australian thing of the day:  Gates on station roads through the dust.

Maximum Temperature: 20  Minimum temperature 5

 Distance traveled  with camper  0  without camper  65

After a peaceful night - read: total silence- I arose and chucked a log on the fire and made coffee as the sun rose through the Coolabahs.

We then headed off for a stroll around a convenient set of tracks with the dog.  This yellow aster was about the only flowering plant - dry, cold weather inhibits flowering!

As we neared the airstrip we met the husband of the lady who had welcomed us to the property.  He had a very large, and very dead, feral cat in his trailer and was on the way to bury it.  His small dog exchanged sniffs with Tammy.

Our main business was to do a 55km drive around the property, following trail notes offered by the owners.  It started at the homestead where sheep were penned for transport.

A large cattle dog appeared looking to exchange insults with Tammy.  She was up for this, but at a 1:10 size disadvantage was not going to be happy with the outcome so was grabbed.  The local lad was told-off back to the shearing shed from whence it had come.

Starting the drive we soon came across a Red Kangaroo (the grey colour indicating a female). We were struck by the size of their ears - they appeared much larger than those on our Eastern Greys at Carwoola.

Moving off the black soil of the flood plain into the red sand hills, we were also impressed by the spotted bark of the Leopardwood trees (Flindersia maculosa) with the spotting causing by discs of bark dropping off.  They are apparently members of the citrus family.

Finally a flowering shrub: Eremophila longifolia or Emu bush.

Just after this sighting we saw a very rare bird which I won't name to protect it from the forces of evil.  (The appropriate authorities have been informed and asked me to obfuscate it, so I have.)  I couldn't get the camera up in time but that was what it was: a lifer, and a rare bird!!

A windmill and cattle yards at a dam.

These chains indicate that quite a bit of clearing had gone on in the past.

That is probably a signal that the time is right to cover a bit of the history of the station.  Although large (320,000 acres) Trilby was part of a much larger property that had been split between members of the family.  Before the current owners took over it was a mixed grazing and wheat growing operation but they decided that if they gave up farming they could run it themselves without permanent help.  This included

• their kids who- according to the story by Liz - were riding motor bikes when they needed a tree stump to remount after falling off!  
• Gary did some of the mustering by plane (they have two in the hangar at the end of the airstrip); and 
• Liz coordinated things over the radio,

As well as the sheep they have a nice little earner in trapping feral goats, of which we saw lots!  The process involves gaps in the fence into a paddock with electric wires arranged so that as a goat enters it receives encouragement when coming inwards but a strong disincentive to leave.  When the paddock is adequately full they are trucked off to a halal-certified abattoir in Albury and then exported.

The property has a lot of "stuff"  left around where it was last used.  Two of the workers used to use this bus to travel into Louth.  The naturally air-conditioned nature of the roof is due to them misjudging the height of a (the?) bridge on the way home.

This is the other transport they used: it reminded us of a car door painted by Emily Kame Knangwarrey which we had seen (I think at Heide) some years before.  

They'd even left a boot behind!  This reminded Frances of a painting by van Gogh.

Onthe nearby dam we were alerted by the squeaks and buzzes to the presence of a flock of Zebra Finches.  We had seen Zebbies earlier in the trip but this was really their habitat.

The nearby abandoned homestead has been left as it was on the day the occupants walked out.  Open books on the table, stuff in cupboards etc.  I suspect this is Mulga Bill's bicycle left in the shed.

This Aga stove could be sold for many quid in Country Life!

An arty farty shot into the mirror showing my dust and, above the mirror a shot which defines MBF.

Back at the camp the Pelicans were reflecting on the state of the Darling.

It was time for a shower so we went back to the homestead and used the amenities.  The kids toys were carefully stored in a tree!

Just after dark the glow from the fire showed a bird landing in a nearby tree.  Tawny Frogmouth gets added to the list!

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The Moulamein of the North

Alas, today we leave Mullaway.  A lovely spot and I could quite see myself living happily there.  Noting the weather of the first 4 days, I don’t think I could be accused of having any rose-coloured glasses (although perhaps the summer humidity might be an issue?).

After a stroll round the headland we piled into the car and headed off at pretty close to our target time of 10:30.  We rolled gently up the Pacific Highway (going over the Dirty Creek Range ascending to the dizzy heights of 110m AMSL: surprisingly neither of us got altitude sickness – this must be a residual training effect from our trip to Cusco)!

The first town we got to was Grafton.  This looked far less up-market than Coffs Harbour or Woolgoolga.  Then I realised we were in South Grafton and I wondered whether calling anything ‘South’ gave it an inferiority complex leading to social deprivation and low self-esteem?  Frances offered South Bruce as a counter argument and I realised that South Canberra is generally not too bad (at least compared to Gungahlin or Tuggeranong).  Whatever, the tone of Grafton lifted somewhat once over the Clarence. 

I got some fuel (just over 30mpg) at the Shell servo – bad idea as the Woolies one had E10 3c/l cheaper – and then Frances did some shopping for essentials such as potato chips and licorice.

We rolled out of town noting a parked truck painted as being owned by “Craig Pigg – livestock carrier”.  From Grafton it was 100km along the Summerland Way to the next real town, Kyogle.  This was a great drive through nicely vegetated country (even where cleared a fair bit of timber was left, presumably as shade trees for the stock).  The birding excitement of the day occurred along here with a pair of Wedge-tailed Eagles soaring over a clearing. 

Less exciting, but IMHO still interesting was the number of Cattle Egrets accompanying every bunch of – wait for it – cattle.   

We agreed it was a good job they weren’t oxen or we might have had the first Australian sighting of Oxpeckers!

After Kyogle, where we just missed the Saturday market, but had to follow some dweet on a tractor through town at 30kph, we swung on to the Murwillumbah/Nimbin road. 

Blast from the past parenthesis.  The last time I drove along here – possibly in 1988 – the start of the road was accompanied by a wrecked car, with a sign saying “This is the 75^th car to roll on this road since …”.   As on that occasion darkness was falling and I had driven a fair bit already I wondered what was coming.  Corrugated dirt, with many unsigned sharp corners and steep hills is what was coming.  I think this is the only time I have done handbrake turns from fear!  We made it.

This time it was daylight and the scenery was spectacular as we traversed the Tweed and Nightcap ranges. 

As we went along it was interesting that we passed at least 4 turn-offs marked to Nimbin.  When we go to Adelaide across the Hay Plain the same situation arises with Moulamein although it is usually 90km off the Sturt Highway rather than 13km as posted to flower-power central.  The only problem with the drive was a dweet (a different dweet, not the tractor-pilot) driving a Hyundai with Queensland plates – who did 60kph most of the time but sped up to 80 where it was possible to overtake.  I eventually got past this person and then followed one of the packs of bikers (not wearing colours) on this interesting road into Murwillumbah.

After a few misdirections in the town, we headed out to Tomewin and ascended the cliff to our friend’s place.  Hooly Dooly!  It has the most spectacular view over the Tweed Valley to Mount Warning,

is a brilliantly designed place and is generally wonderful.  I noticed some old carpet she has laid to suppress weeds and recalled our friend saying that pythons lived under there.  So I lifted the edge of the carpet to find Cane Toads!  In fact they were rather large Cane Toads!

The property is called ‘Wynne’ after the Wynne Prize for painting.  This reflects the winning painting for 1921, “Valley of the Tweed” by Elioth Gruner, being painted at a look-out across the road from the property.

After dark there was a fireworks show somewhere up the valley.  Que?  Cracker night is on the Queens Birthday long weekend, which was last weekend.  I know we are close to Queensland but I would have thought the folk would have known the date if not the time!

Murwillumbah, the town that parking forgot!

This morning’s pleasant sight was mist in the valley.  It was pretty dense up the Tweed Valley past Mt Warning but pleasantly patchy out on the flood plain.

We decided that today was the day to go and explore Murwillumbah, starting off with an alleged Egret nest site just out of town.  Before getting to town we found a bunch of Royal Spoonbills dining in a ditch beside a cane field. 

That is more than was at the Egret nest site (to be fair the Tweed bird guide did say they nested in Spring, not mid-Winter).

We then went to the Visitors Centre to see what they had in the way of walks around the town.  The short answer was very little: it was almost as though there are the beaches to the East and National Parks everywhere else and no history in the town itself.  The people at the centre were extremely helpful and gave me some stuff, and suggested that Nobby’s Creek Rd would be a good place to go for a walk with a dog because it had very little traffic. 

Before doing that I needed to access the internet so we headed to the library.  Nowhere to park there.  There was a street next door with a car park off it: all spots reserved for Shire employees.  Various other streets were tried and no sensible parking was on offer.   After about 15 minutes searching I found a tightish spot on the main drag and parked there.  Frances went for a wander avec chienne while I checked who was trying to contact me (and the rainfall for last week).  In the course of this stroll she noted a sign on a gate “Warning Security dogs on duty.  The remains of trespassers will be buried”.

So we then needed nutrients (a pie and an apple turnover in my case) which required a park in the CBD.  I presume all the shop workers park out front of their places of employment because we drove right along the street before we found a spot.  Possibly this isn’t bad, but I have grown used to there being parking lots around to which one is directed.

Having got enough calories to feed a village in a developing country we headed off to Nobbys Creek Rd.  It was an interesting road through pasture, with some remnants of forest here and there.  The little traffic was a relative term: compared to the Pacific Highway (or the New Jersey Turnpike) it had little traffic.  Compared to Widgiewa Rd, Carwoola it was 4 times as busy as when all the slaves are heading to work or dropping the kids off at the school bus stop.  (Looking later at a topo map of the area it emerged that rather than 2.5 km long, as implied by a sign at the start, the road was about 10km long with about 100 homes along it.  No wonder it was busier than expected.)  However we did find some good birds: a flock of 20+ Topknot Pigeons (the first I have seen for about 20 years) and a Little Shrike-thrush (my second ever).

After this stroll we went back to our abode where I went exploring the garden and surrounding rainforest.  Herewith a few images (nothing is named because I really don't know what they are, other than very pleasant to look at.

One item that was recognisable was the biggest cane toad I have ever seen.  Not quite the size of a football as some were reputed to be before inbreeding got to them, but still about 2x the size of yesterday's specimens.  The strip of tape was >15cm long.

One issue with walking around in rainforest is that some of the vegetation is rather unfriendly.  After looking at plants like those in the next two images, and thinking about Mr Weissmuller swinging from vine to vine, I have concluded that "Tarzan" is actually a Bantu word word meaning 'person with no skin on hands'.

Roadside conversations

For some reason my legs felt rather stiff and sore this morning!

We started the day by taking the small dog for a walk along Garden of Eden Rd (carrying her through the jungle  - aka rainforest – up to the road).  This was a very pleasant walk, especially compared to battling with the trucks and bikes along Tomewin Rd.  A ute full of DPI blokes went past soon after we had started and then came back out.  The second time they stopped for a chat.  This could have been:

• rural sociability; 
• rustic curiosity; or 
• checking up on suspicious characters 

(or any combination of the above).  However it was all very friendly - after nearly 5 years we can do country bumpkin quite well.

When we got to the start of the walk (or the end of the road: your call) I took a photograph of an abandoned Kombi-type vehicle.  It was unclear whether this was the jungle taking over or a deliberate bit of artistry.

At some point in this expedition I scored a photo of a spider - one of the very few we saw on this trip.

Just as we started to drop down through the jungle Frances noticed an echidna wandering across someone's lawn.  As well as the echidna, this shot shows the thatched roof over the cabana next to a pool: such an approach would be very unusual on the South Coast but fairly common up here (which probably says something about the relative ease of gathering palm fronds).

Then in to Murwillumbah for this and that.  This included me checking my emails and Frances sussing out the op-shops.  I took a few snaps of the more interesting architecture in the main street. 

When I got back to the car after that - Frances was sitting in the car doing quality assurance on a date scone- some guy was standing beside the car yelling at her.  Was he a National Party supporter objecting to us not driving a V8 ute?  Nope, all was cool: he was an honest electrician (possibly still a National Party voter, although the word honest may have to be retracted in that case) working on the shop outside which we were parked and he wanted to bag our spot when we left.  He was having to yell because the windows were up!

Frances commented that the punters of Murwillumbah – at least represented by those in the street and the op-shops - seemed a tad down-market compared to Woolgoolga.  I suspect her sample wasn’t exactly unbiased but it being court day probably didn’t help!  (The latter judgement was by me, having seen all the smartly dressed lawyers and their not-quite-so-well dressed clients sitting outside an edifice labelled ‘courthouse’.)

We headed off and as we went along had some discussion about how to get to our destination.  I knew it was in one direction and Frances kept talking about it being in another.  This became clarified when we realised I was heading for Liquorland while Frances was interested in the whereabouts of the Regional Art Gallery.  Since we went to both, this was really a question of priorities.

Liquorland seemed to offer what was needed (ie beer and red wine) for a reasonable number of shekels.  The only interesting bit there was a brand of beer called something like “Ïron Bar” complete with a picture of someone looking rather like Chesty Bond on the carton.  On reading the carton closely it turned out to have been brewed in Vietnam!

The Tweed Regional Gallery was a ripper (Frances rated it as the best Regional Gallery she had visited).  Rather large and with several display spaces.  One had a collection of Indigenous Artist prints with just about every big family (and most areas except the desert and Kimberly) represented.  That turns out to have been a touring exhibition from the Australian Maritime Museum.  They also had the Olive Cotton Photographic portrait competition which is run through this Gallery.  A very interesting set of work, including explanation of the various types of printing used (NGA take a hint).  The Gallery also specialises in collecting portraits and an excellent display of them around.  (I initially thought this was the Archibald on tour, but the quality was too high.) 

One work which seemed to go against categorisation was representations of each State’s floral emblem.  It was interesting that 7 of the 8 had labels of the form <State name> <vernacular flower name> <scientific flower name>.   In a display of typical arrogance the 8^th just had “Waratah” “Telopea speciosissima”.  Of even more interest was that the material used to create these works was cane-toad skin!

To top this off I stepped outside and noticed a large farm dam which managed to add three species to the trip list (of which Forest Kingfisher was the pick since they are supposed to have migrated away by now). 

Going outside also let me get a snap of some rock sheep.  Mounts Cougal form the far background.

As we passed back across the plain on the way home we got some photos of the after effects of canefield burning and stubble burning as it happens.

I took a walk up the road to get some snaps of this and that which I had noticed on my camera-challenged run.  The second image was not taken in Queanbeyan (perhaps this is something to do with names starting with 'Que..?).   If that was a crash from the road, I doubt if anyone survived this 20m drop.

 Mission accomplished, and as I was walking back a Ford Laser pulled up beside me.  It appeared to contain 5 lads whose appearance (such of it as could be seen around the sunnies and hoodies worn by most of the 5) and accents suggested they may have just come from Friday prayers.  The conversation went as follows:

• Driver “Excuse me, does this road go to Nimbin?”
• Me “Yes follow the road into Murwillumbah and there are signs to Nimbin.  Follow the road to Uki.”
• Front passenger “Ah.  Thanks mate.”
• Voice from back seat “Do they sell a lot of weed in Nimbin?”
• Me “I believe they have been known to do so.”
• Omnes “Ha ha ha!”

and off they went.  Obviously I am safe from charges of impersonating a police officer!

By this time the sky had become clouded over, and a couple of hours later it was drizzling when I put Tammie on the lead for a toilet stroll.  The moister weather had got the toads out, as I realised when I looked down and saw her nose to nose with one.  Fortunately she didn’t seem to realise what it was so didn’t try to eat it: cane toads are poisonous.  The required first aid is to stick a hose in the dogs mouth and make it vomit up the eaten material.  Trying to get Tammie to open her mouth when she doesn’t want to is a task removed from the labours of Hercules as being too hard!

Going to the Heads

It wasn’t unduly cool overnight but it did seem to rain most of the time and certainly is doing so right now (7:15).

With the grotty weather I chose to spend a little time reading the latest edition of the Byron Shire Echo.  There were several interesting points in this.  

The previous edition had been their 25^th Anniversary and they had duly had an awards night, featuring Julian Morrow (from The Chaser) as guest speaker.  This edition included the text of his remarks.  Apparently he has been lodging a classified ad in the Echo seeking work, but as it was positioned between “Deep Masculine Honouring“ and “Best Body Rub Anywhere” he wasn’t getting  much action.   He thought the headline for the ad – Non-Tantric Wanker – was a fair description.

There were several letters about new restrictions on dog walking.  It seemed that the main idiots in this business are the jobsworths of the NPWS (see entry about the lighthouse).  They also seem to be responsible for the restrictions in Great Lakes and Eurobodalla.  I repeat my question as to why they are not fighting the coal seam gas interests instead of tourists or pensioners walking their small dogs.

On the subject of gas, there was also a comment from a media relations factotum at Origin Energy saying how folk have got it wrong about coal seam gas.  Apparently they are not using potable quality water so it is OK.  This dude is such a goose he doesn’t realise that such an obviously misleading statement reduces everything he says to the level of bullshit (as that substance is also accompanied by methane it seems a particularly apt analogy).

After a short visit to the Pacific Highway to Brunswick Heads we went for a walk along the banks of the Brunswick River, where the most interesting birdlife were some very lairy chooks.  I couldn’t bring myself to claim them as lifers (and since they were all roosters could hardly claim they were a self-sustaining population). 

 We then went for a walk in the Dog Exercise Area at Brunswick Heads (just North of Byron Bay.  This was such a short area as to be pointless: the main reason for stopping seemed to be a Nature Reserve immediately behind the beach.  In the hours we have spent on these beaches I have not seen a dog leave the beach to go into the dunes: the ones that are likely to do so are going to be strayers, and they will not be stopped by the signs.

In one community we drove through we saw a young woman exercising two ferrets,  on leads.  Since the livestock subject to bans appear to be dogs, horses goats and pigs we presume she can take her ferrets wherever she pleases.  As can the owners of alpacas, llamas and cows!

A better walk followed at Ocean Shores.  By this time the wind was really howling (the rain had stopped) and the blowing sand was probably unpleasant for a small dog.  She didn’t complain however.  At the entrance to the beach there was a notice about Pied Oystercatchers breeding in the area, and asking folk not to let their dogs chase them.  As far as I could see this was put up by the community rather than NPWS.  It does offer some rationalisation for restrictions on dogs near suitable habitat, but in this season I doubt if there is an Oystercatcher of any species breeding nearer to this beach than Kamchatka.  And if the restriction was for the dogs to be on leads in the breeding season then they shouldn’t chase anything.

 By the end of this we had had enough hopping in and out of the car so went home.  I gave my legs a bit of work riding the bike around various parts of the area near our house, but couldn’t bring myself to ride up to the lighthouse.

Many types of fings wiv wings

The day started with a few showers and continued strong wind.  This makes me pleased we had decided not to go whale watching here: the seas are rather bumpy and we haven’t seen a whale within 10 kms.

The first business of the day was to go to the Byron Bay Farmers Market.  As it didn’t seem to be on any of the schedules we wondered if it still existed but as it was only 2km away it wasn’t that much grief if it didn’t.  In fact it was there, active and popular with the punters.  My guess is that it was about 4 times the size of the Murwillumbah equivalent.  Frances got a few bits and pieces.

 The litter skips were an interesting design!

While Frances was shopping I walked around the nearby reserve with Tammie and found a fruit bat colony.  The bats given mention around here are Grey-headed flying foxes and reference to "Australian Bats" by Sue Churchill confirms that..  Looking at them closely, and comparing the head shape with that on a small dog and it isn’t hard to see where the name ‘flying fox’ came from!

 We then went for a walk along Tallow Beach in the gale.  There were not many people around (and only a small number of dogs).

One brave soul was doing something in the water- possibly body surfing.

 Just was we were coming off the beach I looked to the South and 4 kite surfers hove into view.  I was never able to get all 4 in shot at once but some images clearly show the riders.

 After this trek it was time to have a snooze.  Having recuperated I left Frances with Tammy and set off to ascend the Tallow Ridge trail to the lighthouse.  It was a very pleasant walk through brushbox and banksia (with a few palms and cycads for variety). 

Near the top a hang glider was being prepared for action and as I got out of the bush they took off (it was a tandem job – presumably for a fee).  The ride lasted about 20 minutes and should have been really exciting for the passenger as they seemed to just sit still in the air quite high above the ridge.  They eventually landed down on the beach.

 As they took off I was distracted by the sight of an Osprey in serious discussion with a Sea-eagle nearly at water level.  At one point the Sea-eagle became seriously annoyed and rolled on to its back, showing the Osprey its talons.  Sensibly the Osprey found it was scheduled for a meeting with some mullet at another venue.  Shortly thereafter the sea-eagle was up near the hang glider, but from a conversation I had with some other pilots these birds don’t attack gliders (unlike wedgetails, which do hit the gliders).  I just got a good view of Tallow Beach

and the lighthouse.

A second local paper was delivered this evening.  Again much coverage of the reduction of dog exercise areas.  There was also a story quoting the local fuehrer of the NPWS with the reasons why they have to exclude dogs.  She must be a media person: never have I read so much regurgitated corporate diktat.  I also had a conversation with some other locals (mature and very well spoken people – much like me) this evening and they said it was symptomatic of Byron Bay, with an elite concerned to maintain power and control and a very subversive majority fighting them tooth and nail.  Go for it people.