The up-side of being behind the news is that, dear readers, you avoid hearing about the necessary but mundane bits that keep the wheels turning. Three weeks in Melbourne for preventative maintenance on Jeep and van – and I’ll spare you the blow by blow. But what started as a tiny hose replacement essentially turned into an opportunity for a 200,00klm service . To give you some idea:
Lower front trailing arms $1500, remove manifold &clean intake $1300, glow plugs $ 850, remove broken glow plug and repair thread $530, two tyres $860…..and that’s just the big ticket items. Suffice to say I’ll be crushing tinned tuna for a while, but looking forward to a long period of trouble free travel. The stove in the van was dying due to chronic over-use, but the guys at ADP managed to replace several vital organs and that was mercifully not that much.
So, the sails are set for the next big adventure – the Darling River Run and then into Queensland. But first a loopy circuit to Canberra once more, and then across southern NSW to Wentworth for the official start. Finally escaped the big city’s clutches and spent the first three nights at Ovens Billabong just 5 minutes east of Wangaratta. The narrow track in was a natural deterrent, but I just had to trust the info and was rewarded with a ‘poolside’ spot. A burst of late summer temps ensured regular dips during the day. Only the ear worm of nearby freeway traffic dragged me back from this idyllic setting.
As per usual, had a look around and stumbled on an abandoned campsite. I don’t mean empty, I mean just up and left. A lot of rubbish BUT one of those large zip together tents lay in pieces on the ground. Now, I had been covering some prize possessions on the roof rack with an oversize dishcloth that flutters around, waved like a damsel in distress. All of a sudden I was holding a heavy duty canvas section with velcro, eyelets and my name on it. Took a couple of hours to figure it out and now a lot less unsightly.
Now, I could have just stayed on the Hume Highway all the way to Yass and then drop down into Canberra, but I had a memory from way back then, of a grand adventure in a ‘ 69 Hi-Ace van. A trek that traversed a million acres of pine forest along muddy trails, before mobile phones or internet, from Canberra to Tumut. It was both both fearless AND foolish. Turns out it was the Brindabella Rd. Could it be as challenging as I remember it? But first I had to get to Tumut, so I swung off the M31 and arrived in Holbrook mid-afternoon. It was Sunday and Sunday country town quiet. I’ve never seen so many museums in one town. The main attraction however, is the final resting place for the submarine HMAS Otway. I’m not sure how many of you have seen a submarine up close, but I assure you they are WAY bigger than you would imagine. HMAS Otway? Ninety metres!
Next way-point was Batlow, apple capital of NSW. Even though the windows were up, the aroma from apple orchards wafted through the vents. Unfortunately, the town itself is perched like a favela on the hillsides outside Rio. A steep narrow descent through town and a dearth of parking meant Batlow was barely noticed, and only then in the rear view mirror, as I climbed out of the valley. I had intended to do an overnight in Tumut, but pushed on .
As it turned out, a prudent choice given the signs warning the unsuitability of caravans on this route. Just the incentive I needed, and some extra time, just in case. Turns out the steepest sections had been tared, especially the climb in and out across the Goodradigbee River. The pine plantations still covered the ranges like a green blanket, and the road was quite OK till the ACT border. Then it became a bit more a test of patience for the last few clicks before the tar kicked back in the good. A roadside overnight and a catch-up with Number 1 son the following day (it could now be a year between visits).
The Easter weekend was now only a couple of days away – not a good time to be on the road. I set my sights on Young with whistle stop at Yass and hopefully find somewhere to hunker down for a few days. Yass is one of many by-pass towns on the Hume Highway, but even though it’s spurned by the majority on their way to somewhere else, these large country towns still have a life of their own.
Any bric-a-brac store is now a target, given my quest for Willard Price books, but Ross’s Relics turned out to be a Vinnies on steroids. A warehouse divided into nooks and crannies stuffed with knicks and knacks. You wonder how a business like this makes money with just a Facebook page but his one could get away with pay-per-view or an only fans page for the chronically addicted.
There’s a lot of history in Yass, none more so than the courthouse. A much more imposing building on the second attempt. Built on the site of the ‘flogging tree’, you’d be hard pressed to find greater symbolism in a location eh?
As soon as you head west from Yass, the ‘wide, brown land’ emerges. The crops are in. Brown stubble, blackened fields and dusty sheep are your constant companions for the next few months till spring. I had no idea where I’d be staying in Young, but spied a Showground sign just outside of town. Sure enough, a sprawling complex and regional hub for the trotting industry, the showground offers all levels of van accom. and even a section for free campers known as The Hill.
On The Hill, with a view across the showground, I figured it would just me, Kayo and Cadburys over Easter. Boy, was I wrong!