Around Oz the First Time - Chapter 96 - Wodonga to Condobolin

Tracey has a babysitting date on Fridays. She goes and stays at one of her son’s houses, David, and babysits Allira, one of her granddaughters. The grandmother duties are one of the reasons she quit her job in Forster and moved back to Wodonga. She enjoys the experience no end and would not pass it up for the world. Having said that Tracey is looking at new employment which may take her away from this particular grandmotherly duty.

Before we went to bed, one of the water pumps was making a noise. Looking at the issue this morning, I guess the drinking water tank might be empty. The gauge on that tank has always been difficult to understand, and with the issues of filling, where we get significant reflux, and the little time it seems to take to fill. It could be empty, despite the gauge suggesting it is ¾ full. Having said that, we only use that tank for the kettle and my C-pap machine and not much else, but for now it appears the pump seems to be sucking air and the pipes either side of it certainly seem to be empty.

Because of the atmosphere, relaxed and without stress, we take our time to get the van set up. We are going to see another baby, but this one is a little older, almost 1 year old. Baby Allira is the second daughter of Tracey’s second son.

Negotiating the Cruiser and van in the tight suburban streets of South Albury cause a little angst, but we are able to park close enough. David has done a double shift and is in bed sleeping. We sit quietly and play with Allira who warms to us quickly and manages to stay reasonably quiet, not that David would worry, Tracey suggests.

Suddenly I look at my phone and I’m horrified to see it’s noon. We have a 450-kilometre drive today and we need to make a start. Everyone walks out to the front of the townhouses, we say our goodbyes and we hit the road.

Like it was yesterday we are in the irrigation area for a start, heading for Wagga Wagga, the place whose name means many crows. The land and the crops are good here, we are still amazed, given that in less than six hours we will be on land devoid of vegetation. Up the Hume Highway for about 90 kilometres, then turn left towards Wagga along the southern edge of the south west slopes, my old stomping grounds. The land here looks very familiar in nature. The rolling hills, the vegetation other than crops and the magpies, crows, galahs and currawongs, birds from my past, all along the road.

Tracey has suggested to us there was a roundabout that circumvents Wagga, but we miss it, and have to travel through the town. After going around, we see the road from the industrial area which would have been the short cut. Temora is the next town, and although not critical, we should probably look to top up, so for now I am watching fuel stops for a decent price.

Turning onto Sturt Highway there is a little corner store in the middle of nowhere, on its own, and before I can see their diesel price is $1.46 per litre, I am past it. Bugger! Ok, that is the benchmark, lets see what the actual urban service stations try to gouge from us. In Wagga Wagga we saw nothing under $1.52 and some as high as $1.60. I suspect that as I head closer to Condobolin, the chances of $1.46, I think are very slim.

Temora offers nothing close, as I suspected. The distance from the bulk storages, has kept the price higher. Enter Barmedman, a small town between Temora and West Wyalong. At the start of the town there is a sign for a BP station which is one kilometre off the main road. You have to be kidding, especially as there is no “offer to treat” or an advertisement of price in commercial law terms. Just about to get out of town and head for Wyalong and West Wyalong and there is a Metro Independent station offering diesel at $1.45. I almost roll the van turning not to miss this bargain.

So, in a town in the middle of nowhere, miles from any major centre, is able to offer fuel at a more than competitive price, why can’t the big guys in the larger centres. Why do country people have to pay through the nose for fuel? Don’t get me started.

We have been talking to our marketing people, and they want us to take pictures of the drought affected area that is Condobolin. That won’t be hard. Since West Wyalong, the land has become arid again. Failed crops or crops with only patchy yields at best. Some crops were only no more than 6 inches high, others the farmers had turned stock onto them in an attempt to get some value from them.

Strangely, the creeks have all of a sudden got water in them, and significant amounts. Evidently it has backed up from the Lachlan which has had a large outflow added to its flow from either Wyangla Dam or others on its course or tributaries. It was on the news the night before and Robyn takes pictures in contrast to the landscape around them. Robyn wonders, are the farmers allowed to access the water.

Condobolin should never be visited without looking at the ute “museum”. The ingenious ute owners have created a display, oriented around the ute. I pull in and get Robyn to take a photograph of every one.

Finally, we are in Condo and on to Little Prairie. We both love it here, these are not only our family, they are our people. Before heading out, I ring Bruce Parnaby to get the low down on the hay delivery. He is unsure but, will call Mitchell and text me.

Setting up the van is an intricate matter here at the Prairie. Because violent storms are predicted, we all agree parking in the yard near a large tree is not best practice. Uncle Lionel picks out a spot beside a tractor and we have several goes in trying to back the van into it. The spot is as tight as any of the sites we have had to negotiate in a caravan park.

Lionel and Kerre apparently still have no idea what is going to happen tomorrow. Tammy, Kerre’s daughter rings and tells me the hay is already on site. Mitch has brought it in on the truck on the ruse he is taking it to another farmer as a favour to the hay seller. He will be here in the morning early to “deliver” the hay, and I will sort out the final details for the video and photographs etc we are going to create, initially for the donors, but also as a marketing campaign for Rotary and a reminder to everyone the drought is still biting hard.

A family dinner is on the menu, some sausages, left over chicken and salad.