Post 24 - Greetings From Outback QLD - Part 2 : Central Western QLD - Journal

Waking up in the morning with an eagle overhead
Makes me long to fly away before my time.
And I think God must have been a cowboy at heart
He made wide open spaces from the start
He made grass, the trees and mountains
And a horse to be your friend
And trails to lead old cowboys home again!
(“God Must be Have Been a Cowboy” – D. Seals)

As we described in our last blog, we had made an initial, conscious decision that our visit to Outback Queensland would steer away from having such a strong “theme” if you will, of us simply being at one with the land around us – and that instead it would be more about us engaging with the region’s history, its towns and pubs, festivals and people. This in part was decided upon because initially for us, the landscape of Queensland’s Outback seemed to lack the stunning qualities of the Kimberley and, to our eyes, couldn’t compare or compete. In the end though, what we came to experience and appreciate was that in Outback Queensland, you cannot separate engaging with the land from engaging with what it has given rise to – namely its towns, people, heritage and festivals. This interconnection may seem obvious to the reader but our experience in W.A had been somehow different to that. Here in Queensland, the land and landscape is the actual foundation and underlying thread that has created, weaved and - even today - still holds together the very fabric of that which we had said we would “focus” on. So, what happened for us, was that as a result of focusing our energies on Outback Queensland’s people, towns, history and festivals, we slowly came to truly “see”, feel and appreciate the stark beauty of her landscapes too. Our journey to falling in love with the land had us venturing en-route into friendly heritage towns and iconic outback pubs – meeting the locals and learning more about the pioneering history and legendary characters that have made most of what Queensland (and Australia) is today. It has had us joining in more fully with all the belts, buckles, boots and Akubra hats to be seen everywhere and continuing to enjoy immersing ourselves in “old-time” Australian bush-ballad music. It has also had us continuing to be ringside spectators at thrilling, adrenalin-packed rodeos as we watched men and women taking part in professional sports such as bucking horses and bulls as well as competition events that showcased the everyday horsemanship skills used today out on the land. And, somewhere along the way, as we celebrated these aspects of her, Outback QLD and her beautifully stark landscape DID end up slyly slipping into our hearts and finding a place to reside there, alongside the spots reserved for W.A and The Kimberley! This whole QLD part of our trip has been heaps of so much unexpected fun. It’s been an interesting journey and has served to remind us once again of “staying open” to “what is” and embracing that fully too – and of not being too quick to pre-judge! It has also added to our growing dilemma of what sort of life we may end up creating for ourselves after this trip comes to an end! Thankfully though it will be a while before any definitive decision is made on that score – so in the meantime, just sit back, enjoy our musings and photos and take a journey with us into our little slice of Outback QLD


Makeover Magic – from man….into S.T.O.C.K.M.A.N!

For a little while now, Gordon has wanted to replace the outback hat he bought when in the Flinders, South Australia. In short, he felt that it was too similar to ex-prime minister John Howard’s hat - and that this was not a good thing both in and of itself nor for Gordon’s image! He has also been expressing a desire to get a couple of Outback shirts instead of wearing T-shirts all the time. And I have supported him in this bid for a new hat and a shirt or two because, for a while now, I have also secretly nursed an innocent enough fantasy of wanting to see my man have a complete Outback Makeover and turn into the burly Aussie Stockman I know he could be!!

Now, any true and self-respecting Aussie Stockman will tell you there is only one brand of hat you should be wearing – the Akubra - and only one place to buy your clothes, namely RM Williams, “the bush outfitter”. Put simply, RM Williams clothes are the Holy Grail for high quality, Aussie-made boots, shirts, hats, buckles and jeans/trousers. They are made for real Outback guys and gals who need comfortable, hardwearing and practical gear whilst horseriding and working on their stations. The gear looks very COOL! Given my secret fantasy then, I was very excited to be in Longreach, QLD - not only for the RM Williams Annual Muster and Rodeo - but also for the opportunity it afforded us to go shopping in the RM Williams store and for me to execute my secret mission! Yeeeharrr!

So, after a morning of watching horsemanship and campdrafting at the show, it was time to get a coffee and try on some hats. Gordy did his usual and decided he wasn’t “in the mood” for “trying on a hat today” but I was not to be deterred and so in to the RM Williams store we went! Our very helpful assistant found him a hat straightaway and it looked great. “Fabulous!” I said, “But…. I think it would look better with a SHIRT rather than the T-shirts you have, don’t you think? Look, there are some nice ones here that are in the sale….” And with that Gordy was dragged off to the rail of shirts like a lamb to the slaughter. “Let’s just PLAY” I enthused but his look told me he didn’t want to! Nevertheless he picked out a blue and white striped shirt that took his fancy and agreed to try it on, (naively) figuring that if he did that we could then be done and get out of there. A minute later he came out of the dressing room and both me and our lovely assistant cooed around him, admiring the shirt with the hat – and, I might add, Gordon liked them both too. “That shirt looks FAB on you and with the hat even better” I said, “but…. those jeans are all wrong! They’re a baggy style and OK for the beach but they aren’t the straight, boot cut, Outback jeans that go with a shirt like that. I think you should get some jeans to match!” Gordon made to protest but the assistant heartily agreed which was just as well because I was already asking her what jeans she would suggest dressing him in!

Knowing it would be useless to fight us both, Gordon took the dark blue and the sandstone jeans that the assistant, in the flash of a lambstail, had gathered for him. Garments in hand, he retreated back into the changing rooms to see out the rest of his fate! Within a couple of minutes, the changing room door reopened and out he walked in hat, shirt and jeans and to many “oohs” and “ahhs” from me and the assistant! In truth, he looked fantastic! “Wow!” I said, “What a man! Try the sandstone pair on too!” And so Gordon returned to the magic changing room, appearing seconds later, dressed in the sandstone jeans. They also looked great on him but….I HAD to say it - ”Hey, if you’re going to get both jeans – and I think you should – then you’re going to need another shirt to mix and match, maybe something with a bit of red in it”. Poor Gordy! By this stage there were a couple of people wanting to try things on in this one and only tiny changing room and so, naturally, I encouraged them to go in, using them as a reason to get Gordon out and looking for some more shirts! But I felt sure that he was starting to get into the swing of things and he easily accepted the shirt I’d had my eye on all this time! And the whole time, he had the assistant and her colleague telling him how great he looked, how smart, how manly, how handsome!

I guess it’s fair to say that Gordy wasn’t doesn’t enjoy the spotlight being on him. So he was only too relieved when the changing room became free again and he could hide away in there - albeit to change into something else that undoubtedly was going to set us women off all over again! Sure enough, when the door reopened and he stepped out, we LOVED this outfit too! And if truth be told, so does Gordon. You can bet your bottom dollar too, that I made sure I got his agreement on this fact before I ventured to say: “Trouble is, you can’t get the jeans, the hat and the shirt without getting the belt….I mean, it’s not OUTBACK without the belt!!” There was this flicker of a look that went across his face in that moment, as if somewhere in his brain he was figuring out that something was going on here. Quite sweet really! Yet there was no time for him to really process that thought because I was already asking our very helpful and lovely assistant as to what sort of belt he should be going for. Her reply? “Well, that all depends,” she said - “what colour boots will he mainly be wearing?” “Ah,” I say, a smile spreading across my cheeky chops - “that’s something ELSE that has been on our list to get. He doesn’t have any boots, only trainers”.

At this point, Gordon was probably no fool at all and the thought that had “sort of” flickered across his face before, had enough time now to be sharply understood in his mind. His wife was conniving and manipulating him – tusk, tusk! In an instant, he could finally see where all this was going and immediately interjected by saying: “well, I am not sure we came here to buy boots today or can afford them, but as for my trainers, well, they are brown”. What followed next was me rushing in to do my version of damage limitation, in other words, saying: “You can’t possibly get the hat, shirt, jeans and belt and not get the boots! There’s no way you can wear all that with TRAINERS! If you are going to spend on the hat, shirt, belt and jeans, you may as well finish the outfit and get some boots. And you KNOW that RM Williams boots are comfy and last forever, so you might as well – and we are here now so there’s no point in coming back another time......” And without really pausing to draw breath, I asked the assistant what she would be recommending for Gordon and she, in turn, made a suggestion for his “first pair”. Gordon was beat now and he knew it! Hilarious! As he threaded the belt through and eased on the boots, his lame attempt at asserting some kind of power (refusing to go for a bigger buckle) was fine by me, because what now stood before me was my Outback man and I was a very, very happy woman! My secret mission was accomplished!

They say that “clothes maketh the man” and I would have to say there is something in that because Gordon appeared transformed before my eyes, every inch the man that he always has been - only now I saw him stand with more poise, more “manliness” and more confidence. And all that was left of “Old” Gordy was the pile of shabby, dirty and dusty gear that he had been wearing when he came into the shop, complete with his worn, old, brown trainers and sweat-stained scruffy hat, all sitting on top of the lot! Priceless!

Now, at this stage I must confess to not having told you the whole story…..for while Gordon was busy transforming his look, I too, was having a bit of a play with dressing up and stretching my comfort zones (and no, they weren’t my thighs and bum!). Not normally a wearer of shirts, I nevertheless tried on a couple, along with some RM Williams jeans and a skirt. And lo and behold, in that changing room I was met with my own surprised reflection in the mirror. I liked my gear too, even though I wasn’t used to it! And so there we BOTH were, all dressed up and stood next to one another with the assistant proclaiming that we look like a couple of locals, a couple of proper outback farmers or station owners! It was a good feeling!
And so after what must have been two hours of “playing” in that shop the time came for us to pay our rather large bill. We ended up walking out of the shop with one of our outfits on, just in time to walk down to the main event of the afternoon - the RM Williams Rodeo. As we passed the entry ticket gate, who should be there but the two attendants whom we had been chatting to earlier in the day, when we were wearing our other gear. You should have seen their faces when they clocked a look at us! They cheered and clapped us, shouted after Gordon “you look great mate, you look the part, you really do!” and to us both “You really ARE loving the Outback aren’t you!” It was good feeling. And they were right of course, we both looked a right pair of bushies or outback farmers and like we had always been that. Even our friend Lindy walked straight past us at the rodeo, not even noticing us in our new look!!
And so here endeth the tale of the Outback Makeover – all that remains to be said, of course, is that if any of you are ever stuck on what to get us for Xmas and birthdays, well, RM Williams vouchers will do us just fine!!!



Pure Bull – one sporting night in Outback QLD

My song is dedicated to a man I’m proud to know
He left his mark in one respect, in big time rodeo
His battle scars and bandy legs are trademarks of the game
And could he live it over, there’s nothing he would change.

He got his special training, out on the big stock routes
At twelve years old he wore his jeans and R. M Williams boots
In 1958 young Coley made his first debut
With a different style of riding from what he used to do
The saddle and the rules were different but it wasn’t long
Till he was up amongst the best determination strong

Yeah, “rake him, Coley, rake him” you’d hear the people yell
“Charge him Coley, charge him”, from mark out to the bell
Spectators they all loved him, he was the people’s pride
And many of them only went to see Ken Coleman ride
(Adapted from “Coley”, S. Coster)


During our time in the Outback we had the opportunity to experience the 5th Round of Bundaberg Rum’s “PBR Challenger Series Touring Pro”, which had come to the small town of Hughenden, in Central-Western Queensland. For those in UK who don’t know, PBR stands for Professional Bull Riding. It is the fastest-growing extreme sport in the world, has huge prize money up for grabs not to mention the coveted Buckle. It also comes with a warning of being the toughest sport on dirt. So, armed with credentials like these and a desire to experience both something we have never experienced before and a slice of Outback Queensland “sport”, we paid our small entry fee and joined in with the 1000-strong spectator crowd of belts, buckles, boots and hats for a night of sporting prowess! Mind you, we were also soon to discover that a PBR event is not just a sporting event but a “rock-concert-meets-bull-riding” affair - a true “show-time” extravaganza that would have us tapping our feet to the beats of the music whilst at the same time being on the edge of our seat (or should I say, the little patch of ground our bums were sitting on!) with hearts pounding and breath held!

Before us, where all the action was to take place, was a circular, floodlit rodeo ring enclosed by railings and surrounded by spectators on three sides. Opposite, on the far side of this ring and behind those rails were the steel pens and chutes that were to contain the bulls before their release – and the area where the riders were getting dressed and ready. To the left and right of the rodeo ring were the big music speakers and the two huge, high TV screens that were going to be responsible for showing the playbacks during the evening. If truth be told, there was something of it that for me smacked of the Romans and the Gladiators – where we, the audience, were here because we wanted to see either a rider stay on…or a rider come off and if so, what would happen to them and the bull in that instance. Perhaps civilization hasn’t evolved much since then really but I don’t wish to get into a debate right here in the blog as to the ethics and morality of whether it’s wrong to go and see events like these. Just to say that for us, it was more a case of “When in Rome, do as the Romans do” – that is to say, we were in Outback Queensland to sample life there….and this is what many Outback Queenslanders enjoy as sporting entertainment.

Above this whole rodeo-ring spectacle and stretching out in all directions into the vastness of the landscape, was the wonderful inky-black Outback sky we have come to love so much on our travels, with a very white full moon rising up to throw the darkness into even greater contrast! All around us the air was chilly yet rife with anticipation and excitement – not to mention the wafting aroma of hotdogs, chips and burgers.

Suddenly (and catching us all off guard), the commentator boomed into his microphone and announced the 5th Round as being officially open. With that the TV screens sprang to life with a slick PBR promotional video showing fast, close-up and adrenalin-packed images set to awesome, pumping music and with a thrilling voice-over commentary! There was to be no doubt we were in for a night like no other! I was really excited and, I have to confess, a little irrationally nervous!
As the promotional video finished and the screens went off, the riders for the night were introduced one by one and invited into the ring while the commentator celebrated the “hero accolades” of each one and we, as the crowd, applauded and whooped. I had to pinch myself to believe I was here watching all this – for this was authentic PBR and not just something for the tourists!

It was quite a sight to see so many of them standing there, in full costume, with hats and protective leather chaps over their jeans – let alone just a few minutes later when the first of them prepared themselves and their bulls in the pens and chutes. It was only later on that I was to read that the chute is the most dangerous place for the rider, where legs have been crushed between steel and hide in what is a very small and confined space. Yet already I could see just how scary a place it was to be, as each rider tried to prepare his bull while said bull was already trying to buck him off, slamming itself (and the rider’s legs) into the steel sides of the pen as it tried to do so! Meanwhile, the music was blasting – from hip hop, to pop, to rock and roll - and each song seemed to be deliberately chosen to fit in with the theme of the night.

The first bull of the night was called “Kung Fu Juice”. The minute his rider was ready to go, the door to the chute was flung open and the music instantly switched to the 70’s tune of “Kung Fu Fighting”. In a flash this huge beast literally EXPLODED out onto the dirt of the arena, trying hard to buck and kick himself around in a bid to remove the rope tied around his loins, while the song played out and the rider did all he could to sit deep and hang tight - keeping one hand on the reins and the other arm and hand firmly in the air and not touching the bull at any time (as the rules dictated). It was a thrilling spectacle that was supposed to go for 8 seconds in order for the rider to qualify, though in this case (and in many other cases that night) lasted only 3 or 4 seconds – such was the feistiness of the bulls involved! After the ride, the big screens whirred into action as an exciting action reply was shown for our viewing pleasure.

And so the rounds unfolded, each bull and rider being introduced before the chutes flew open. We didn’t fancy one rider’s chances who was introduced as “the smallest rider on the biggest bull of the competition”…..yep, you guessed it, he was flung off in seconds! I was also guessing that for the bull called “Arachnophobia” you wouldn’t want to be riding him if there was a spider on the loose!

All the bulls had stage-names and music to match them. When a bull called “Cowboy” came out of the chute, they played ZZ Top’s “She’s got legs”, which was hilarious as these words were sung just as the bull started bucking its back legs high into the air! For the bull called “Prison Break” who was already trying to buck the rider off whilst still in the chute, they played George Thorogood’s “Bad to the Bone” and for the bull “Rawhide” they played…..yes, you guessed it, “Rawhide”! Using the music in this way, it was as if each bull had its own character, especially too, when the words of the music seemed to coincide with what the bull happened to be doing. So when one bull came out to “You Spin me Right Round, Baby, Right Round” and proceeded to do just that – spin and spin and spin – it was just too slick to be true! Amongst other songs that seemed to match what the character of the bull and/or what the bull was doing, were “Round, Round I get Around” by the Beach Boys, Steppenwolf’s “Wild Thing”; Justin Timberlake’s “Sexy Back”; and Kenny Loggins ‘Footloose”. Music to get “thrown off to” fittingly included Van Halen’s “Jump” (and the rider did jump too – before the 8 seconds were up!!); ACDC’S ‘Dirty Deeds” and Le Chic’s “Freak Out”.

All the while we were in awe of the sheer might and power of the bulls, quite honestly the biggest and most fearsome looking beasts we have ever seen in our life (much bigger than at the R.M. Williams event we were to attend just weeks later). Yet there was much to be in awe of regards the rider’s prowess too – their talent, strength and heart showing through even if their hats bit the dust within nano-seconds of coming out of the chute. On the occasions when there was a win, Queen’s “We are the Champions” or “We Will Rock You” would pump out of the loudspeakers and, if the rider was still wearing his hat (a remarkable achievement in itself), he would throw it high into the air in elation. But win or lose, the rider always left the stadium with a limp – testament to the brute force of the sport! Often, when there was a fall, one or the other of the Clowns would rush in – their job to distract the bull away from the fallen rider and shoo him out of the ring and back in the pens with the other bulls. These moments provided on more than one occasion for a sharp intake of breath as the fate of the rider’s life quite literally hung in the hands of the Clowns expertise. How, at times, the bulls hooves did not come down on the riders head, I’ll never know. Sometimes, after the bull had tossed its encumbrance (the rider!), it strutted around the arena, almost as if to do a victory lap of honour. Once in a while one would dare someone too close to the other side of the ring and many of the bulls liked to refuse to “go home” through the gate to the pen – this would give rise to songs immediately being played such as Run DMC’s “Walk this Way” and Reel 2’s “I like to Move it” – hilarious! And if all that wasn’t enough music to tap our toes to, there was plenty more played to simply add ambience to the whole night – from ACDC’s “Thunder” to Rednex’s “Cotton Eye Joe”, Billy Idol’s “Rebel Yell”; Pulp Fiction’s “Pump It” and not to mention heaps of stuff by the Rolling Stones. Awesome!

So my friends, for two people who came to this night’s entertainment with a mission to do as the locals do, we certainly succeeded and had some unforgettable experiences of a certain slice of Outback Queensland’s sporting life! Wow! If only Bono had come on at the end to do a song……..(sigh!)



Bush Poetry Corner
Yes, back by popular demand, Cobber Cumming has penned another musing, inspired by an enforced stay in Cairns, where we went to get our fridge repaired under warranty. We have been to Cairns years ago and this time around had no desire to go back. To have our hand forced in this way then, was quite the culture shock! Enjoy the poem – he just keeps getting better and better, I am so proud of him!

Gone to Town
We came to town to get a few things fixed
On the way here, feelings were very mixed
Back to the cars and the noise and the lights
And away from the clear blue skies and starlit nights.
Now here in the city I feel the odd one out
Sound and movement and stimulation is all about
What I crave is peace and quiet
But the city is all around me – like some noisy riot
People always moving at such a pace
Like they’re all a part of some big race
Not sure why they’re all heading there oh so fast
And I don’t know where “there” is, but I reckon I’ll be there last!

Around the city smiles are rarely seen
Not like out west where we have just been
Here, if you walk around carrying a big, broad smile
People take one look at ya and run a country mile.
It seems here that many aspire to have more and more things
Like boats and cars and flashy diamond rings
A vicious cycle of buying the whole damn shopping mall
Then having to work longer and longer to pay for it all
So when do they get time to enjoy all they have gained
For, to that office desk they are inexorably chained!

While just sitting here and watching I can’t help but feel
That, to themselves, few of these folk are being truly real
Where is their connection with this incredible land?
Does any of her soil ever touch their manicured hand?
Do they ever just stop and listen to the breeze
As it rustles its way through those magnificent trees?
No doubt these folk are good and true of heart
But are no longer connected with their nature part
It seems to me that we don’t know who to be
When removed from the earth and from the country.

It’s true these verses could paint quite a lament
But they’re a reflection on how I feel life could be better spent
By being connected with each other and with the earth
And honouring what is naturally a part of us from birth
Within all of us there is a carefree nature child
Within all of us the need to be just a little bit wild
When we start to connect with our natural world
We are like giant petals being slowly unfurled

The truth is the city was also once my home
But now its way outback where I love to roam
(Gordon “Cobber” Cumming, 2009)


Outback Funnies – quirky towns, even quirkier festivals and mad, mad pubs!

One of my self-assigned jobs on this trip is that of researcher, planner and organizer – oftentimes much to Gordon’s disgust! (“Planning?????” he will say “whaddyawannadothatfor?!”) But to be fair, not only do I love finding out all the stuff there is to find out about – it also allows us to really maximize the time we spend somewhere. And sometimes my research really can cause us quite a few laughs and help us to get a feel for the people of a region so much more! So, when it came to Outback Queensland, my research seemed to point to the fact that towns here seem to pride themselves on anything they CAN pride themselves on - even if they have to scratch the bottom of their own town barrel to find “it” or just decide to invent something to be “famous” for, just for the hell of it!

Allow me to introduce to you then, the town of Charleville and it’s carefully put-together tourism brochure. Can you imagine how hard it was for me to contain my excitement when I read up on what there was for us to do in this fine town? You see as I perused the pages, I was informed that I could “meet the locals” at Bingo on Sunday Afternoons PLUS meet the locals for “fun and games at the senior citizens club”. Well, this had my interest pricked right from the start for sure, as you can well imagine! Then as I read on, alternative suggestions for my entertainment pleasure presented themselves, in a bid to really get my traveler juices flowing - alternatives such as having a “stories and scones tour at a local pub” or “watching the automated process of the weather balloon release (an “exciting event that happens daily!”). “Yeeharr!” I thought to myself. But I think what REALLY had us wanting to visit this fine town in the end, was the “Yabby Races” it holds every Tuesday and Friday night, where apparently the crowd goes wild! (For all the Pommie readers, yabbies are like very small freshwater lobsters). The brochure assured me that it would be the one race meeting where holding my breath could be fatal (after all, lets face it, Yabbies are not sprinters!) and where I would have one of the most exciting times of my life. All I had to do apparently was buy my Yabby (no training required), have a flutter on the Crawlers and then stand back and wait to see if my thoroughbred is the winner! Now, just when I thought the town was stark raving bonkers mad, I then read that is a fundraiser which helps the Royal Flying Doctor Service! Phew! Well that’s all right then! Sadly though, as can sometimes be the nature of “going-with-the-flow-travel”, we didn’t get to partake in this event as our travel plans ended up changing and so we were not in town on the right day. Bummer.

And so then, to the town of Quilpie. This town wins an award from us in terms of how it chooses to set itself apart and recruit would-be settlers to come and live there – namely by welcoming you to a “lifestyle where, in summer, golf is played at night with an esky at every hole”! Needless to say, the promise of free beer on ice on every hole of an 18-hole golf course had Gordon seriously considering moving there and taking up the sport!

One of the ways towns here really try to distinguish themselves is through their rodeos but they also do it through other festivals and competitions. This is how Camel Races can thus sit side by side with Outback Poetry Festivals and no-one bats an eyelid. It is clear therefore that any excuse to bring the community together is a good one. Yet it seems to us that these events also afford fantastic opportunities for one town to “outdo” another town’s festival…either via legitimate means or absurd! Windorah, for example, have secured their significantly more elevated “yabby” status over Charleville, by hosting the INTERNATIONAL Yabby Racing CARNIVAL, no less! It’s all in the name, so it would seem. Mind you, perhaps size really does matter….along with the appetite of a town towards the absurd. Cue (and not to be outdone by ANYONE), Winton’s 4 day, 2009 Outback Festival which promised to be a corker with over 40 events. Many of these had my mind working overtime to try and figure out what might be involved. I mean to say horse racing and crayfish racing are pretty self-explanatory, as are the competitions called Outback Whipcracking Championships, the Truck Pull and the Outback Iron Man and Outback Iron Woman (though the latter gave rise to a very scary vision which gave Gordon nightmares for a week!). But PEOPLE racing? What a strange way to put it – the mind boggles! Do they just mean people running the 100m against one another – or is there some more absurd way I haven’t even thought of, in which to race people? I mean does one person sit in a shopping trolley while another pushes it? Or is one person on all fours being “ridden” by someone with a bloody great whip??! And now, as far as the Australian Dunny Derby is concerned, the meaning is clearer, thanks to Gordon’s excellent description – but the race is still absurd if you ask me. How else can you feel about a race that has dunny shacks (for the Poms, that’s a tin shack that houses the outdoor loo) – dunny shacks on wheels, with someone inside and also someone outside who is pushing the thing to the finish line??! What’s all that about??! It almost makes the Bushman’s Egg Throwing competition a completely sane and normal event – and similarly so the Wool-Bale Rolling, the Swag Toss or the Broom Throwing segments! Ah Winton, we salute you! The town of Julia Creek and it’s “Dirt and Dust Festival” may well include the Annual Bog Snorkelling Championships and Best Butt Competiton, but it can’t hold a candle to you Winton and your 4 days of insane absurdity and madness! We were only sorry that we could not wait two months for your festival to take place so we could witness everything first hand!

Now of course these Outback towns don’t solely rely on rodeos, festivals, competitions and other “attractions” in order to create their identity and sense of pride, to bring community together or to attract travelers! They also make good use of the humble, quirky or iconic Outback Pub. Yay! It is fair to say at this point, that in the “interests of research” we managed to sample a few, if not all, of these establishments (well, it simply would have been rude and unfriendly NOT to) and had to smile at how each one manages to set itself apart from another. “Quirky” is one way that they seem to do it – and one of the ways this quirkiness can come from, seems to be in how a pub gets its name….as seen in the example of the Fox Trap Cooladdi Roadhouse. (The story goes something along the lines of travelers pulling up in the old days to fuel up, maybe throw a line in the creek and take a break from driving. Mr Fox, the then owner of the RoadHouse, would welcome visitors with open arms and convince them to have a cooling ale. One ale followed another and before too long a day or two had passed. Travellers nicknamed the road the Fox Trap alluding to the ability of Mr Fox to trap travelers with a beer or five!). Indeed, history is always a big pull and is sure to be a magnet for the tourists – whether the history is about the pub being an original stopover for the carriages in the olden days or whether it’s more to do with being the pub that had had the most brawls in days gone by! Some of these types of pubs even choose to bring that history inside the pub in wacky ways, as we were to enjoy in the Prairie Hotel, where someone had the rather wonderful idea of hanging a rather impressive number of old and worn out stockman’s hats from the ceiling, not to mention a whole host of memorabilia “from the land” – splayed all over the walls and everywhere else! At times, when it comes to naming these pubs and the issue of how to stand out, it makes you wonder what the hell the other suggestions must have been if the only one that they all could agree on was to “paint your pub a ridiculous colour and name it after the colour!” (hello to The Purple Pub!). Indeed, being the focal point in a town - for whatever reason - can be all that a pub needs to achieve in order to achieve notoriety in the Outback. In the case of The Nocundra Pub, the focal point for the town is that it happens to be the town’s only occupied building! You would think that you kind of can’t beat that, wouldn’t you – but Toompine has managed to go even further by being known both for the fact that it is “the pub with NO town (population of 2) and for the startling blue tractor up a tall pole that apparently comes with it! And, I guess when you are a pub with seating capacity for only six drinkers you too can hold your head high like the Adavale Pub!
But we have to say, we won’t just remember the pubs for their quirkiness and history - we will also remember them for their people. From the barman in Winton (who, from behind the pumps, was too gripped by the ending of a crappy “afternoon movie” and then by “Murder She Wrote”, as to even notice that we were fading away from thirst) to the staff at Tattersalls (also in Winton), who in the broad light of day all seemed to be helping themselves to beers whenever they wanted, making it a place that Gordon was quite keen to submit his resume to! And, yes, we did meet some interesting folk on OUR side of the bar too. Not least amongst these, was the wonderful Old Man Emu, a fascinating old Aboriginal whom we came across in Normanton’s Purple Pub. He chatted to us over beers about his two “arranged wives” waiting for him in Torres Strait Island, “promised” to him by both his clan and their clans – and how uncomfortable he is about this and cannot take part in it. His was a story of being an Aboriginal man with one foot solidly in the white fella’s world he has been living in since a teenager – and the other foot still in the traditional world of his clan on Torres Strait Island. He carried with him a mixed bag of guilty feelings towards what he knows does actually work in Aboriginal culture (arranged marriages) versus what he feels is “right” in his “white-fella” heart (young girls should not be married off to old men). It was a humbling experience to glean these insights from him and to learn about other parts of his life, including his childhood memories of working for the white fella as a sugar-cane cutter. A connection was forged between the three of us over those couple of beers and Old Man Emu even gave Gordon the name of “Old Man Traveller” - priceless!

Well my friends, as you can see, Outback QLD is a quirky place indeed – AND WE LOVED IT! The question is: Who wants to join us for some more fun when we go back – and help us get a team together for dunny racing?!!!