19 September 2012 - Silverland Caravan Park, Broken Hill, NSW

Today was a day for driving tours and probably not the best choice given the less than perfect weather. We set off quite early out to Silverton, twenty five kilometres north west of the city. The road is all sealed but is at the mercy of whatever lies beneath, hence the shop which doubles as the Information Centre at Silverton being called “Beyond 39 Dips”. I am sure however that there are many more; perhaps the 39 refers only to those marked with “Dip” warning signs.

The first Europeans to pass through the area were Mitchell, then Sturt and then Burke and Wills on their 1860 - 1861 ill-fated expedition. Pastoralists followed close on the heels of these explorers.

Discovery of silver at this remote spot on the Barrier Range occurred in 1875 when a couple of chaps were drilling for water, as so oft happened. The town was established in 1882, the population quickly increasing to a peak of 3,000 in the 1880s and the Silverton Tramway opened in 1888 connecting the town to South Australia.

The boom was short lived, the ore soon depleted and Broken Hill offering opportunities unable to be matched by this small isolated settlement. By 1901 the population had reduced to less than three hundred, however the town remained a place of rest and recreation, hosting the annual New Year Day picnics where almost the entire population of Broken Hill climbed onto the train and travelled the distance to Silverton. It was on just such an occasion in 1915, four months before the ANZACs landed at Gallipoli, that Broken Hill became the scene of the only World War I enemy attack when a couple of men in an ice-cream cart flying a Turkish flag fired on the occupants of the train.

Today tourism keeps the wolves from the door of the forty four remaining residents. Perhaps the word “remaining” is incorrect. Those choosing to live in the few remaining buildings that have avoided falling in to ruin have come in more recent times; artists and eccentrics who entertain the many tourists who pour out to Silverton, which has featured in more than a hundred and forty films and commercials.

Initially we drove on through the settlement, onto the Mundi Mundi lookout along the western slopes of the Barrier Range. From there we saw nothing but great expanses of flat land, bare but for low scrub, stretching on and on to the horizon, the edge of the earth.

We drove on a further five kilometres to the Umberumberka Reservoir, one of several reservoirs providing water for Broken Hill. The promotional literature describes this as most scenic and certainly any expanse of water in the outback is wonderful, an oasis, however it is not an attraction to fall over backwards about.

Views all about Silverton

The dam was built between 1912 and 1915 and relies on rainfall in a catchment of 407.5 square kilometres; the average rainfall is just 225 mm.

Back in Silverton, we called into both the Silverton Outback Art Gallery and The Horizon Gallery and admired the lovely art works on display, and played peekaboo with the charming tot assisting her mother hold the fort in the latter gallery. It was in one of these galleries we saw photos of a horrendous dust storm over Silverton in 2003, which proved the comments I made yesterday regarding the demise of these ghastly events in Broken Hill to not be true for Silverton. We spent some time at The Coin Carvery chatting with Andy who does amazing things with coins, the only person in the country with permission to desecrate the coins of the Commonwealth no longer legal tender, so he says.

A few spits of rain and our rumbling stomachs sent us back to the car; we drove to Penrose Park which those Broken Hill revellers once frequented on New Year’s Day and any other day they could spare away from the mine. There we sat under cover then paid a call to the various animals and birds kept in pens and cages for the pleasure of voyeurs. The miniature horse, Sarah, looked so sad all on her own and I would have gladly set the galahs free to join their cousins in the bush had I opportunity. Chris cautioned me otherwise reminding me that cage raised birds last less than five minutes in the wild.

 

We headed back toward Broken Hill and then turned off half way back and drove about thirteen kilometres or so through sheep grazing land, salt bush and other low bush, over dry creek beds and on across the low range, passing through  a working station to reach the Day Dream Mine. This was, during its limited working years in the early 1880s, a settlement of 500 folk, but now is nothing but a few decaying relics and the site of a mine tour.

Land about Silverton

Back in Broken Hill we filled up with fuel, found a loaf of bread at Woolworths, something we had not been able to do yesterday, and drove up to another of the many lookouts over the city. Returning to camp we found Ralph and Pam, the Tasmanian travel companions of Melody and Doug, setting up close by. They had stayed another day after we left them at Cobar and then driven up to White Cliffs, another opal site much like Coober Pedy. Their opinion was that if you had been to Coober Pedy and Lightning Ridge, a visit to White Cliffs was probably superfluous. We had decided that a few days ago without the advantage of experience.

The rain never came to much apart from a few try-hard showers. The forecast suggests there will be little else however the temperatures are expected to rise over the next few days, with a sunny day for tomorrow.