The former athletic gate on Kilcowera Station

The former athletic gate on Kilcowera Station

I always have a bit of a giggle to myself when the odd visitor whinges about the gates on the drive into Kilcowera.  All three of them.  There has been many a suggestion about putting ramps or grids in to make the experience more user friendly.  Hard luck!  The middle gate on the way in was a real doozy – unless you knew just how to treat it, it would give the unwary a pretty good workout.  You bring one side to the middle, head over to the other half and by the time you have it in the middle the first half has swung open again.  We in the bush call these athletic gates. Rest easy – it is perfectly balanced now and operates in a perfectly boring and mundane manner. One chap commented it was worth the camping fee just to watch his wife doing battle with it!

Back in the eighties there were 14 gates on the road to town.  But being young and enthusiastic this didn’t deter us one iota.  After all the bloke always drove and the missus and the kids did the gates!  The only exception was if the missus was getting a bit long in the tooth or was done up in her finery and had high heels on.  But this was a rarity.  The other exception was when the missus had to both, drive home in the dark and do the gates because himself had a load on and was snoring in the seat next to her!

We had one gate not too far from the house at the back of the horse paddock, made of wire and logs.  I swear it was the heaviest and most cumbersome gate ever invented.  Only a few years ago Greg replaced it with a swinging gate so our visitors had an easier time with it.  But I know the ulterior motive was so the bloody thing would be shut properly, not in some half baked way because they couldn’t work out what to do with it!

This is something we have noticed over the years – people can undo a gate, but getting it back together the correct way is much more challenging!  I suppose we all have our fields of expertise.

Dingo Barrier Fence workers, Outback accommodation, Kilcowera Station

Dingo Barrier Fence workers, Outback accommodation, Kilcowera Station

Doing a water run on the place also entails opening and shutting lots of them – sometimes up to  twenty ! The Dingo Barrier Fence boys have perfected the art of not going through anymore gates than they have to on their inspections of the fence.  After all they don’t have to pay for the fuel and it’s not their car they are driving.  They will drive 10 times the distance to get somewhere and to get out of opening and shutting a gate.  And there are always two of them, so it’s not like it’s one bloke has to open the gate, get back in the car, drive through and shut the gate.

We just live with them, they don’t bother us too much, the gates are there, they need to be open and shut and that’s all there is to it.

Hay to be unloaded at the cattleyards.

Hay to be unloaded at the cattleyards.

Well, it’s mustering time again and that means buying some hay to feed them as we move them through the yards and into new paddocks.  The newly weaned weaners stay in the yard for a week or so and get taken through the yards 3 or 4 times to educate them and get to eat some yummy hay every evening.  The cattle that we will be selling also get fed in the yards for a few days until we have enough of them to fill the truck.  We usually buy our hay from St George which is 600 km away so the freight is super expensive as is the hay.

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We had a bit of a quandary this time – the trailer was bigger than usual and so there was a third layer of hay stacked up.  How to unload it????  The poor old Fordson was not up to the challenge – the hay was just too high and too heavy at 600 kg per bale.  Soo, it was all shoulders to the hay ( except little old me ) J  Apparently I’m a bit of a light weight……..

Feeding the hay out for the weaners at Kilcowera Station.

Feeding the hay out for the weaners at Kilcowera Station.

……..  Anyway the job took most of the day, rolling the hay off and the using the old tractor to stack it up, then an electric fence around it to keep the passing trade out.

 

Our local grocery store in Thargomindah.

Our local grocery store in Thargomindah.

Standing in the line at the checkout of a major supermarket recently I couldn’t help but compare the lack of service to times long gone by.  There I was with three other customers in front of me, only 1 other manned (womaned) checkout open because most of the well programmed customers were checking out their own groceries at the do it yourself checkouts.  All those jobs lost just so the supermarket can trim a bit more off its operating cost.

Compare this to the service that we experience from our little local towns.  I can ring or email my grocery order through to my local store whether it  be in Quilpie, Thargomindah or Cunnamulla and the staff will collect all my stuff, pack it properly in boxes ( yes boxes! ) and either tape them up or tie the boxes up with string and send them to me via my mail man twice a week.  The bottles will be wrapped in paper, the fruit and veg will also be wrapped to protect them as will any cold articles I order.  It is generally speaking a pretty good service. For my part, I keep the string and the nice white paper used to wrap the fruit and sometimes have a bit of a read of the newspaper that has been used to pack the bottles!

Thinking back to when I was a little kid growing up at Eight Mile Plains in Brisbane (which was the sticks back then!) we had a little shopping centre within walking distance of my home, bush all around us and even a creek at the bottom of the hill where we could catch yabbies.  Milk, the newspaper and bread was delivered to our house daily and anything else we needed was purchased from the local shop.  The lady would ring the item costs up on the till and a boy at the other end of the counter would pack the stuff in a big, solid brown paper bag and put it in the car for us.  Mum had a big drawer that was used for keeping all the bags, bits of string, rubber bands and the occasional plastic bag for recycling – even though I bet she didn’t call it that!

Our local area.

Our local area.

I hope that lots of our potential visitors have a look at this blog, cause it could save them a bit of grief!  See that little track that appears to come up to Kilcowera from the south? Well – I’ll let you in on a little secret – it doesnt exist anymore!  It’s actually on a neighbours place, is a private road and only leads to a windmill.  It is also literally clearly marked with signs as being a private road with no access to anybody.

So there you have it – the ONLY way into Kilcowera is the access road in from the west!

Triops australiensis appear in our swamps and claypans after suitable rain.

Triops australiensis appear in our swamps and claypans after suitable rain.

I have been trying to recollect some of the strange items of interest that I have seen since I have lived in the bush.  Here are a few of them………..

Fish magically appearing in isolated waterholes even though those water holes had been dry for years and were not connected to any permanent water.

Yabbies and crabs swimming down the road during floods.

Shield Shrimp or Triops australiensis  and clam shrimps magically appearing in claypans after suitable rains.

The back leg of a kangaroo half buried in the dirt in the middle of a paddock and only bird tracks around it.  Bear in mind we don’t have a wild dog problem, so it was probably a fox that killed the roo.  Still, little fox, big roo.

The gorgeous little Crucifix Toads survive buried in the ground for the longest time and dig their way out after sufficient rain.  We had a nine year drought earlier this century and those little frogs survived for that long buried in the ground. When they come out they bob around like iridescent little yellow marbles and ping pong balls.

Not to mention the many different frogs that just appear after suitable rain, they must all live deep in the ground only to surface when the time is right.  The night time chorus when they are all out and about is glorious!

The cute little Crucifix Toad at Kilcowera Station.

The cute little Crucifix Toad at Kilcowera Station.

The neatly gutted bearded dragon lying in the middle of the road, it was totally intact except its underside tummy was eaten.

 The big white ant eggs all out around the meat ants nest at 4 am.

Hundreds of bees all clinging to the tree trunk just outside of the hole in the tree which was the entrance to their hive.

 Snakes with ticks on them.

One extraordinary night I swear I saw the southern lights from my verandah.

Another night there was a light just bobbing around in the distance for about half an hour, then it just disappeared.

Sometimes when there is humidity around and the possibility of rain, we can smell the pungent odour  of the Gidgee trees, but apart from  about 4 trees on our place the nearest Gidgee is about 60 km away.

During and after rain the enormous Bogong moths come up out of the ground leaving their cocoons sticking out of the holes.

One day we flew home from Cunnamulla and were putting our plane back in the hangar when out of the blue 2 blokes just appeared out of the bush chatting to each other like it was the most normal thing in the world.  This was way back, before we started having visitors to the place.

Roley, a little Border Collie that we had was pulled out of his kennel and pulled right out of his collar and mauled by a wild dog one night.  He survived.

When I first came to live out here we had a diesel generator and it was not uncommon on winter mornings for the diesel to freeze in the tank and so we could not start the generator til about lunchtime.  This was when we learned that you could actually buy a winter mix and a summer mix of diesel!

Another interesting thing – there used to be all these flagons filled with water lying around under bushes all over the place.  Everywhere!  I learned these were strategically placed to quench the thirst of the musterers who rode horses back then and could not carry much water with them.  Someone had to drink all that Muscat in the first place though!  No wonder they wanted a drink of water the next day!

And lastly, not long after we were married Greg had to go to town one day for something.  There he was in his old holey, sweat stained Akubra, torn T Shirt, short stubbie shorts, hairy legs and Redwing boots halfway to his knees asking if I would like to go to town with him. Oh and a 3 day growth on his face.  I was horrified!  He looked dreadful and there was no way I was going anywhere with him looking like that.  I had been a city girl you see.

A nice big burrowing frog   at Kilcowera Station.  Cute, isn't he??

A nice big burrowing frog at Kilcowera Station. Cute, isn’t he??