22 September 2012 - Menindee Lake Caravan Park, Menindee, NSW

Poor television reception and channel identification along with confusion over time zones did nothing to enhance Chris’s enjoyment of yesterday evening; he missed the League semi-final he had been looking forward to. I have much simpler needs; a good book before nodding off, and I did not even hear the trains go by. The trains are a bit of a joke; who would have thought that out here in the back blocks we would have the main line between Adelaide and Parkes, NSW just a hundred or so metres behind the camp. And since the road crossing is not one with flashing lights and bells, it is left to the infrequent freight train to announce their presence. One thing we shall remember about our camping spots here in Australia apart from the magical wildlife and excellent weather, will be the locomotives and road trains. Fortunately the latter do not seem to frequent this little corner of the world.

After rising in a leisurely fashion, we spent the greater part of the morning reading before heading out for our abbreviated driving tour, abbreviated by the road closures. First we called in to the grocer who assured us that someone had just left for Broken Hill so the daily newspapers would be available in a few more hours however they were closing up shop at 3 pm. So we headed off into the Kinchega National Park comfortable in the knowledge that we would not be deprived of our weekend fix.

Kinchega National Park was once part of the Kinchega – Kars pastoral lease, held by the Hughes family since 1870. At one point it covered an area of 800,000 hectares, extending from Menindee to Broken Hill and out to the South Australia border. In fact to see a map of the station at its grandest point is quite astounding; that anyone can be in control of that much land! In 1967, the Kinchega section of the lease was dedicated as a National Park, covering an area of 44,000 hectares. The last shearing was held in the woolshed in 1967 when the six millionth sheep was shorn, as part of the handover ceremony.

There are apparently thirty five campsites along the bank of the Darling River, however most if not all of these are currently inaccessible due to the road closures. This would possibly explain the number of campers there are out on the other side of town, away from the Park, camping for free.

So with access to the old homestead, the lake and river edges all out of bounds, it just left the woolshed and so that is where we headed. This was built in 1875 of red river gum and corrugated iron, once boasting sixty two stands. One half of the complex is still standing and in excellent order, or at least as much as it needs to be for tourism.

Unfortunately my camera decided to play up and not only have I had to delete the excellent photo of the road killed fox on the red dust road and the bees busy in wonderful borage flowers, I had to forgo the joy of recording this lovely old structure and the shearer’s quarters adjacent which are available as accommodation for those who want something a bit different.

We were two of many couples mooching about the complex, and two of eight who picnicked in the shade close to the creaking iron windmill, but by the time we had read through the wonderful detailed history of the station, the only ones left to enjoy the myriad of bird life all about.

When the Hughes first took over the lease, they brought sheep across from their holdings in South Australia. They also brought in tank and well sinkers to provide permanent water and by doing so were able to lift the carrying capacity of the property from 35,000 head to 72,000.

Apparently in the late 19^th century the number of sheep carried in the general region of Broken Hill numbered about 135,000, but within a decade, due to drought, devastation by rabbits and over stocking, the region was running about 31,000. The general problem with pastoral farming and any other farming in these inland areas was the fact that the great explorers who surveyed these lands passed through in good years and were ignorant of the extreme climate cycles. It was on their word that entrepreneurial adventurers took up food production in one form or another and many struggled hideously. In the last century some of these fragile areas have been able to produce as promised but only due to technical advancement where man has been able to take nature firmly in hand.

We certainly enjoyed our trip into the park although would have enjoyed it even more had we been able to undertake the other jaunts promoted in the Park brochure. I could say we will do that all next time, however who is to say there will ever be another opportunity.

Driving back across the red dunes we noticed a flock of perhaps one hundred birds wheeling high in the sky. I was sure they were pelicans and sure enough, Chris soon fixed the binoculars on to them and had to agree. We had never seen them so high, so numerous and moving in such a manner.

We returned to Menindee, just thirteen kilometres away, collected our reserved newspaper and came on home. We turned the computer on hoping that one of the family might be as idle as us but they were all obviously too busy getting on with their own lives. For that we are grateful, our only wish is that everyone is happy and well.  

This afternoon as I write this, the clouds have come over in greater numbers than a good sunset has need for. My expectations are low; thank goodness for last night’s show.