Saturday 31 August 2024

Day 24 (from Charters) Saturday

 



Woke about 6am and filled the campervan tank with bore water. Helen offered me coffee, & I toileted, and talked with her man Shane, 

and another traveller Dawn. Got to draw both Dawn & Shane. Thanks for your company. Friendly connecting! An amazing gift to the world. Lovely to be the recipient of it, & to be able to participate in it. Thanks to the source of it.


On the road around 7:40am. A parting picture of the railway “station” at Petford (over the road from the phone box):



Before 8 am I am told:

Thes days are getting hotter! I’d like to make it the 33km to Dimbula, but we might have to camp where-ever we can get reception on the way. We’ll see - by looking as we go. 



Might tune in to some of that story of the world’s most influential tradie/ teacher/ philosopher/ new culture liver-out-er-er. .. if this walk is to remain a pilgrimage as well. 


I hope Dad takes his time today, but can catch up with breaky by about 10am. We’ll see. What an adventure.



But the scenery and it's stories keep breaking in too:

And this little plaque tells a story about  people doing the same trip as me to “the tip”, but 150 years ago…past this spot… (& dying on the trip, because people with differing understandings of our world, and our place in it existed then too). The middle of this plaque, the story, is to me the most interesting… but here is a closeup of the maps drawn on the sides:

Left:

Right:




The road goes ever on…


It’s a dry old land. But the water that falls down & hangs around is valued even more, makes its presence felt, & what makes all the difference:

closer up..

In this external terrain, It seems like good water, it's safe storage and dissimilation, and then these good roads which allow people to connect and connect others with their commodities, & thus also, along with phone lines and satellite links, to have good communication, (which allows connections of thoughts & feelings, if not embodiedly/physically), and that they are what makes the land live-able in, and usable  by humans. Then there is also the internal terrain, the human culture, which enables the humans to live with the land, and with each other. 


I realise again that this is a walk/ pilgrimage to see these different kinds of existence, and life. True, there is much stuffed up, thoughtlessly done, and at times that is ruinous; but, there is also very much good left in this country (meaning both the physical place and how it's been affected - as it stands now, and the people who inhabit it, and have affected it, and their orientation towards it & others now.



We stopped for a “breaky break” with my feet up, from ~11:15am ~12noon (?) then I walked on to get a few more km before the hottest part of the day..


The smiling old chap in this ute who lives back along the way I’m coming from, hasn't”t been to Mareeba for supplies for two months, so today is the day. He stopped & we talked for a bit. He drew my attention to the cycads in the forest, as well as the panda as all the bush around here. On finding where I’d come from, (&, I think, sussing out my attitude, he checked I was ok and had water/ or a supporter, and off we go again. 

We didn't even exchange names, but we left friendly to each other. Thanks bloke! And thanks to the source of blokes like him.


Wow, Dad went ahead 6.6km as my support and found a lovely clear running creek with a sandy bottom. I took my belt and shoes off, had a dip and scrubbed my clothes & body. More vans pulled up under the trees as we had an arvo snooze till about 4pm. Then we shared a document I had been working on via  Bluetooth and I filled up my water, got some snacks and headed off.

Looking back the campervan on the right is ours. 


My support crew (Dad) will head off to Dimbulah to see if we can stay at a van park or somewhere else, and work out dinner, I hope. Then either drive back and let me know if there is still no phone coverage, or park obvious in the main street.




Old Bruce, standing in his front yard, called out and I crossed the road.  He is going on 83yrs, & told me stories about how he got his pocket-money: wallabies could get 5 guines for two ears, pigs could get 10, red-billed swamp birds would get 5 shillings from the sugar-mill, because they’d pick out the eyes of the cane. We talked for 20-30 min and I got in a line drawing of him, as a momento. Thanks for your friendliness & willingness to call out and make contact old Bruce. And for those who have affected a culture that produces blokes like Bruce.



By 6:50pm I am being welcomed to the town I was hoping to make it to.

And Dad has sorted something for a place to stay tonight (&maybe tomorrow night too if I have Sunday off this week) He is poised to order dinner at the pub. So I’ll ring him.



At the Dimbulah pub - the Junction Hotel we had  some great drinks and meals. We did 3 or 4 fun-drawings of other patrons 





& Eddie (on the left) gave $20 to aid November's work. Thanks Eddie. 


My support crew (Dad) & I were given a powered site for Dad's campervan by kind staff. Thanks to you folk, and the owners! And thanks to all who have aided strangers and wayfarers going past in a generous spirit!




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