Down By The River - Chapter 2 - Smiths Lake to Condobolin

DOWN BY THE RIVER

Chapter 2 – Smiths Lake to Condobolin

We are off again. Perhaps this time we shouldn’t have left this particular day but the plan is the plan and we have places to go and people to see.

Its been raining, raining very hard and consistently for a long time now. There has been flooding to the north that has been flooding to the south, but where we are camped on top of a hill overlooking the ocean, if we get flooded the nearest not much hope for any of humanity. Noah would have set sail many days ago if flood waters ever approached our house.

The plan today is to get going early, caravan in tow, to get to Condobolin and visit with my auntie and uncle for a couple of days, in the ancestral home of the Ferguson clan (my mothers maiden name) before heading off on the second link to Mildura and a houseboat for a fortnight. 

For what it was worth the plan was sound. We had, had a few sunny days of late. They had been times outside where among other things we had wrestled with a diamond python but had decided to keep itself dry in our lime tree. Enlisting the help of locals who loves snakes, the reptile was relocated far enough away that it should not return.

They had been a bit of a scud overnight but nothing to suggest what we were about to drive into. Even as we Traverse the hill into Bulahdelah,  the road remains dry. It wasn’t until we’re about to turn left onto the Pacific Highway that the heavens opened up. 

Head open up they did. We decided not to stop at our normal service station but continue looking to have the rain abate a little closer to Newcastle.The service station that was once the Leyland Brothers Ayers Rock attraction, remains one of the cheaper outlets on the highway. The Rock no longer exists, but there is a major fuel outlet, where transit busses will stop to allow drivers a rest, and, further back in the bush I am told a camp exists where animals still are housed.

The rain stops long enough for us to fill up and we continue south. The rain doesn’t start in earnest until we hit Hexham. From there on it continues to get heavier and heavier and heavier.

By the time we get to Singleton we are crawling. Two very large B-Doubles appear to be in convoy and we stick ourselves between them for safety as they plough the road and the water in front of them. 

Around a corner, the road is cut by a lake in which a small car with a P Plate driver has stopped. A council worker with pulled up behind him and is about to snatch strap him out.  I am not sure why he got stuck to water level sent only to be up to his axles, but stuck he is and requiring rescue. The big rigs drive past slowly not creating waves and exacerbating the situation.

Just a little further we are all forced off the road by a wide load. Why it is on the road in these conditions is beyond me but here it is. Nine metres wide, requiring car, van and truck alike to take refuge on the side of the road while it passes. Good luck to them getting around the P Plater a bit further along

And still the rain tumbles down in torrents. Our convoy managers of brisk 60 kph at best in these conditions, staying well apart, not that the spray is any different to the rain.

Finally as we get to Jerrys Plains and the grand properties of the wealthy racehorse owners – the Packers, Godolphin Estate etc the rain has abated somewhat  but the aristrips are still underwater. The truckies talk about the darkness in the clouds to the south. Hail appears to be coming, but hopefully we will be well clear of it before any hits this road west.

Dunedoo is a place for us to break the trip to Condobolin.With the slow driving we make it to the White Rose Cafe just before closing. A cup of tea, a chocolate thickshake,  a beef pepper pie and a sausage roll do us for lunch and we are back on the road. 

Robyn confides her bum is a little sore from all the clenching she has been doing of her rectal area during the onslaught into the water. We have taken it easy and have been looked after by the truckies somewhat. From time to time they talk to us on the radio if anything untoward is about to confront us. I have noticed the brake lights on one side of the B-double car intermittently flashing under load and convey this to the driver who thanks me for the information and suggest he will look into it when I get to their end destination which I think is Tottenham.

Back out and on to our last leg, if a 3-hour jaunt can be a leg, without the rain the drive is a little easier. We decide to bypass Dubbo, but out GPS will not hear of it, continually asking us to deviate back towards the centre of town rather than use the bypass. 

Finally back on the Mitchell Highway we are soon screaming towards Narromine. There is a bypass around this town as well but we need fuel so we keep on heading in towards the statue of their local hero Glenn McGrath. “Pigeon”  I was born in Narromine and a suitable statue stands to one of their favourite son. 

The fuel price at the Liberty Service Station is staggeringly cheap compared to some of the prices we have seen on the trip so far. Getting into the service station isn’t the easiest activity of the day, but with a good enough run up, a large enough turning circle, and no one coming traffic, I soon line up beside the bowser. 

From here to Condobolin is effectively North to South. But before you can get going to speed you need to negotiate the road out of Narromine. 

Firstly there’s the railway line. No problem today, no trains. Just after the train lines the speed limit changes to 100 km per hour, then almost immediately changes back to 60 km an hour as we head into a small industrial area. Then because we need to travel over the railway line again,  the speed limit increases to 80 km an hour before returning to 100 km per hour after the railway line is traversed. 

Bureaucracy gone mad. Given the close proximity of the industrial area to the main township why they simply didn’t leave the speed limit at 60 km an hour or even 80 km an hour right through the industrial area rather than have caravans and trucks speed up to 100 km only to have to reduce down again almost immediately. One wonders at the planning some bureaucrats put into decisions.

With a full load of fuel on the cruiser and van travel better than they were prior to the fuel stop. Perhaps the addition of the extra weight stabilises the entire rig.  It might be worth looking at the wait at the ball again after reducing significant weight in the front storage compartment before leaving this morning. 

The road from Condobolin to Narromine carries a lot of truck traffic. Having said that, the road is one of the better ones to drive on.  Other than the odd water course where the road will lurch left and right the lining up for a crossing, the highway here is as relaxing as it can be. A quick note of the temperature gauge shows the outside temperature has risen to 30 degrees.  A far cry from the 21 degrees of the Upper Hunter Valley. 

There is though, a cross wind. Robyn would certainly not enjoy driving at this time. The small tumbleweed type yellow flurries of fluff make their way across the road from time to time. The GPS is again, lost. Somehow it thinks your destination is some 30 km past Condobolin, and even as we get closer the apparent distance seems to be increasing. 

Time for a new map I think.

Into Little Prairie we head and Aunty Kerre suggests we park on here front lawn. Anyone who has read my first trip log entitled Around Oz the First Time will know about the difficulties attempting to back a caravan the size of ours into their front yard. We cut our teeth on test runs to Condobolin when we first bought the van with Uncle Lionel insisting the backing of the van into the yard was a full test of my reversing capabilities. This time at least was much more successful than the last and we are soon attaching a van and setting up prior to dinner. 

They have a lovely corn beef ready for us and we settle into catching up over dinner. Just try for dinner being served my duck outside to capture another of the magnificent sunsets that this place has to offer. Mother nature paints extraordinary scenes with the rotation of the Earth away from the sun,  and tonight is no different. The oranges, purples and reds intermingled between the sky and the clouds create a magnificent backdrop to the transition between daylight and dark. 

There is much to catch up on. By the time dinner is done it is late and everyone heads off to bed.