Down By The River - Chapter 3 - Condobolin Day 2

DOWN BY THE RIVER

Chapter 3 – Condobolin Day 2

There have been mini disasters through the night, both to sleep apnea machines and both to the masks. Annoyed with myself, I get up early and go for a walk around the farm. In the early morning light I see what appears to be the small fox terrier running towards me. Getting ready to be jumped on the animal turns left sharply then heads off into the grass. The fox terrier is actually still in its enclosure and what had been running towards me was actually a hare.

I walk towards the dam past the accumulation of rusting machinery inherent to most farms and this one is no different. There are lots of cars sitting in surely what must be their final resting place,  intermingled with machinery that probably still works. Plows, headers, tractors and the like, are strewn around the area.

I come across a small garden that Aunty Kerre has been able to maintain even though the rain has not been his forthcoming is it me will have been. I snapped and post on social media the vast colours that are available in such a small area. She has done an amazing job in such an inhospitable place. With the threat of rain during the day the need to water the garden maybe crossed off the list of chores today. 

For me and my machine I have broken a very small clip on my mask which holds it to my face. It is not possible to fix or glue it back on because the loss of the clip basically destroys the mask.  If I am to get sleep tonight,  I will need to replace it.

The velcro on Uncle Lionel’s mask has finally given way as well. Time to do some research into local ResMed stockists,  and whilst we don’t I think there might be one in Condobolin we hope there will be one in Parkes which is only an hour away. 

My research though, suggests it might be a drive to Dubbo to get the replacements, although there is a place in Parkes that has some options, but ostensibly is a mobility scooter store. The plan then is to drive to Parkes check out the options there before committing to the drive to Dubbo. At least Parkes is only an hour away whereas Dubbo is effectively a three-hour joint there and back. What I can do is replenish my shots for the Centre to the Dish book, I started to write some time ago.

I have always wanted to check out all the road signs as well as encapsulate mailboxes in the book as part of the journey between the two towns. The mask failures give me an opportunity to satisfy the need. Rather than get lost in the collection of images, I plan to pedal to the metal looking to hit the scooter shop in Parkes when they open. Whilst I am at speed so I can check out and mentally note places to snap on the return. 

Heading through Bogan Gate I get this sinking feeling that if I cannot get the masks replacements in Parkes I actually won’t be heading home this way. Let’s hope this thought of dread is not forthcoming in eventuation. 

Sure enough when I get to Parkes the mobility scooter Centre has a very limited range of sleep apnea stock.  I am however able to get a replacement fittings for Uncle Lionel who has a more conventional mask than I have. The salesperson suggests that I try the two pharmacies in town who she knows have sections dealing with sleeping disorders. 

The two Pharmacies are not that far apart when I managed to negotiate 45-degree rear end parking without causing too much disruption. The first pharmacist takes one look at my mask, suggest she has not seen one like it before and immediately sent me to the other pharmacy,  suggesting they are the gurus of sleep disorder in Parkes. It’s only a short walk to the other pharmacy but negotiating the renovations in the store is an art form in itself.

Stock being transformed from one gondola to another whilst tradespeople replace lights, create mess and generally block passageways, are the obstacles place before me. Having said that finding a sleep disorder section is actually quite easy and I’m soon checking through stock but not seeing what I want. A sales assistant comes to lend me a hand, but I am after she the first to the “expert”. The expert takes one look at my mask and mentally goes through her mind at her stock levels, noting the ones visible here I probably similar to that which she has in the backroom,  none of which suit what I want to do.

Of course that doesn’t stop her. Thinking on her feet she knows of some reconditioned hire stock she has which may do the trick. She disappears for a moment and he’s soon back with her suggestion. Given it’s an ex hire piece of equipment there will be a substantial discount. For me I am happy that we have firstly negated the drive the Dubbo, but secondly found an answer for the alarmingly feeble piece of equipment that I broke during the night. 

The quest is done. I have the two pieces of equipment and can hit the road again home. If I do this properly the trip home will take significantly longer than the trip here. I will need to be careful to not disrupt the flow of traffic particularly the big trucks the frequent the road. First though I will need to clean the windscreen. With the rain etc there’s plenty of puddles beside the road I can use to wet the squeegee.

So the plan is to snap every road sign pointing off to a road away from the highway, try and get shots of all the mail boxes along the way and not get run over doing it. Sounds like a pretty simple plan. 

In effect it was. There was very little traffic on the road today, and many a time I was able to pull up on the road to take pictures of mailboxes and road signs, rather than pull over to the side of the road in safety. Several times I missed what I deemed to be important shots, and had to chuck U-turns to come back and not miss them. 

This particularly happened when, around a bend, a farmer had erected a statue that screamed out to be photographed. Some of the mail boxes and main gates to the properties are works of art and also beg to be shot. Bogan Gate, Yarabandi, Ootha and Derriwong are all passed through and shots taken.

Two hours of driving, stopping, U-turning and resuming later, I arrive back to the Prairie.

My stomach says it’s lunchtime and I quickly attack the leftover corned beef from last night, add some tomatoes and pile a whole lot into a flat bun  and devour it. With lunch of the built I head back to the van to set up and start transferring all these lovely shots to the relevant areas awaiting for inclusion in the latest tome.

The drive, and the festivities surrounding it have taken it’s toll and I am very soon nana napping is the rain begins to fall on the van. I’m glad I decided to hit the road early this morning rather than work back through the drudgery of the drizzle, trying to take pictures in the rain is never easy. 

Cousins Mitchell and Casey (and hopefully Jess, Casey’s younger sister/ward) are coming for dinner. They have bought the farm adjacent to where we are presently staying and have attacked the business of being pastoralists with fervour. I assisted them in the early days of buying the property with their finance applications, helping them put together business plans budgets and the like and I’m very keen to see how they are going against the numbers we put together.