June wanderings – 2021
The cover photo is of a beautiful big brown womble. He was gorgeous and simply stole our heart for his antics. The antics of his dachshund friends were also entertaining but there is something truly special about a big galloping dog who just seems to want to have fun and doesn’t quite know how to deal with a couple of motor bikes that intrude on his Sunday morning.
This post has been challenging to write as the words have simply not chosen to flow over the last 3 weeks. So, this post might be one of my simpler ones, of thoughts rather than words strung together in slightly more elegant sentences. So, here goes…
The concept behind this post was originally “The Anatomy of a Ride” as the ride went from Brisbane to Tenterfield, through some amazing country and then back again. It was about the things you do to organise yourself for a ride but it is no different from organising yourself for a car trip – just on a motor bike where you have less space, you are more exposed and the road is open.
The suburban sprawl is now south-east Queensland sprawl.
The temperature varied from about 16 to 18 then right down to about 6 when we got to Tenterfield
The price of fuel varied by $0.30 – why? It is cheaper out of the city, go figure.
“Bean to” café is lovely – good food, nice team
Lost World Valley is a must explore – one way in and out but breathtaking in its simplicity and beauty
Rathdowney, Woodenbong, Legume and on to Tenterfield was the ride route. Good twisties for the rider, gnarled dead trees of phenomenal beauty even in their decay, sun setting early and miserable cold afternoon with a cold sky suggestive of the likely 0 overnight temperature. Kangaroos crossing the road, at sunset making for quite response to avoid collision, blue and red rosellas flitting through the trees and gliding through the open. National Park and stunning winter landscape. Captain Thunderbolts hideout, London Bridge town, Boonoo Boonoo then Tenterfield – 340km of riding pleasure. The 9 degrees feels like 6 when we arrive.
The colour of the gum trees is varied and special, the landscape dusted by afternoon cool, the hot shower of the ensuite cabin revives when your hands are so cold it hurts when hot water hits them, the sealed roads, the gravel roads, the colour changes, the layers of clothing such that you are the Michelin Man attempting to get on and off your motorcycle – thermal pants and riding pants, t-shirt jumper riding jacket but the next day we add jumper, riding gloves, socks and boots. The hardest part is the cold feet. Movement becomes difficult.
Eagles soar above, bees buzz in dandelions, cows graze as we set off on the Sunday through an amazing section of road called Harrigan’s Lane. This is Mother Nature at some of her finer work although all through this trip there has been phenomenal scenery. Roads carved out of the hills, 10 degrees feels so much warmer when the sun is out and providing a clear day. On to Stanthorpe and Warwick, the Old Stanthorpe Road, Aratula and home. Fresh country air, smells of earth and dung, wildflowers and weeds, sealed roads and tracks, gurgling tumbling streams and giant marbles of granite – what scenery.
By contrast 2 weeks later, we were in the car headed to Jimbour Station for an opera event. This time the rain set in. The only way to travel was via car as we would have been soaked through and nearly blew away on the Friday night due to the wind squalls that were coming through.
Low lying clouds drape themselves through the hills and mountains, touching the fields here and there. Showers of rain pass through on their way to somewhere else. Winter rains are blessing this country, wide brown country of Dorothy McKellar’s verse. There is fee, stacks of hay bales, which is so good to so, pockets of water and sometimes running creeks. You can see the force of water on one of the backroads where the earth has had to be shovelled off the road. Lunch is at the Russell Hotel Dalby after a little country coin is spread amongst a couple of shops – in a beautiful old haberdashery with pressed metal ceilings, long sold cutting table and the wires for the transfer of payment from the shop girls at the front to the store clerk at the back.
Queensland Music Trails have done a great job of this event. We weren’t able to do the others this year. Maybe another year we can string together all of the events and enjoy, although Covid has sadly impacted this and other event this year. Back to the story.
The House Tour is magnificent. The story of wealth and loss, near total destruction and resurrection. The house seems like it should be bigger than it is, like Glengallan at Warwick but still majestic. The hangar concert is delightful, accompanied by the gentle thrum of rain on the roof – a different accommodation than the 4 seater plane that used to live there.
Camp was set up in the pocket of dry before the rain set in again. Friday night was squally and generally miserable with droplets of water from the inside of the tent roof keeping us company during the night. Saturday was damp and the Gala Concert on the Eastern Lawn was worth the time, suitably ensconced under raincoats, wide brimmed hats and a knee umbrella – large umbrella, lowered over knees.
Jimbour beef had been served up at their smokehouse. Worth the taste. Was unable to buy their wine per glass so didn’t try it – another time and reason to go back. A walk around the markets which was all local made product then on to the Drawing Room Recital. Amazing voices, interesting people and fantastic setting made all the better with a superb Western Downs sunset of oranges, blues and all sorts of other vibrant colour.
Sunday was another Gala on the Easter Lawn – dry this time with an encore. The rain has left overnight and there was this magical thing called sunshine after a beautiful mist filled sunrise. It’s pretty cold when you can blow fog out of your nose, when breathing normally, at 8.15 in the morning. We bypassed Toowoomba to see what the Bypass Road is like. Travel it – modest $2.34 to do so to see some pretty cool engineering and exhibition of scenery and millennia old ranges.
This trip reminds us, as did the earlier one, that life is to be lived. We met a lovely man, 44 years navy, not long retired, with 12 months to live due to brain cancer. Life is for living, not putting off for another day because the weather isn’t quite right, or my hair isn’t sitting the way I want it. Go explore, see something different you haven’t seen before. There’s so much on the doorstep of Brisbane and the restrictions of Covid help us see the beauty in these simple activities that we might not have seen and just presumed before. Enjoy the outdoors and the different from every day.
