June long weekend, 2009

Tumut Mystery trip Monday 8^th

Beryl &Wal Phelps Jackaroo Trip Leader

Brian Brodie Nissaroo

Chris Sawer, Emily & Brayden Toyaroo Forerunner

Phillup Dalton Nissaroo Patrol

Robyn & Muttley Jackaroo (Tweetie) Trip Reporter

Ken, Kerry Clarke, Greg Martineer Jackaroo TEC

OK, Wal agreed, just a short trip then. Everyone agreed. We had woken to a morning of downpour. Some of yesterdays’ funsters had departed early, packing up in the rain. Others had surfaced slowly, owing to some over-exuberance in the camp kitchen that saw them playing table tennis with frypans for bats. Myself, I could never get the hang of Mondays. To ward off the cold, the first of the four layers of clothing I’d worn the previous day was a white T-shirt . It was a bit tight. “Disappointing” , said my dearly beloved, “that a ‘large’ from Target would shrink after just one wash.” It had raglan sleeves and a v-neck, suitable for wearing under a business shirt. Then she took another look. “You cross-dressing …!” she exclaimed. “Size 14!” It was hers. Mondays. I hate them.

Just a short trip, said Wal.

Buddong Falls was the mystery target, so we took the blacktop from Tumut to Batlow. The convoy passed fields of green with black cattle standing in stark contrast. Recipes were swapped and rubbished. Veils of rain misted the views, and occasionally the crowns of the hills were wreathed in gold as the Sun shone upon them. The valleys were clothed in shawls of rainbows. Magic.

Turning off at Batlow, we took some tracks through Bago State Forest. The inner child was released in nearly all of us as we sought the muddiest puddles to splash through. We crossed through to Kosciusko National Park.

The rainfall ensured Buddong Falls were pumping. A short walk took in several vistas. This was the start of 57km walking trail, but not today, & not for this mob. We then drove on through more mud, along Maragale Power Line trail, and encountered the solid lumps of rain. The merest whisper of a hint of snowflakes, a few tiny bits of hail, then lots of rain. And mud. There was mud in puddles. There was mud on sidesteps. There was mud on bonnets and caked in wheel arches. There was mud on windows. Mud on the roof. And mud where the ground used to be. At times the clouds cleared to show blue sky and blinding sunshine. Ahhh Kosciusko NP… what a heartache and heartbreak of a place you are!

De Beauzevilles trail took us to Tumut No. 3 power station. Acknowledged as one of the seven wonders of the modern engineering world, Tumut #3 was the final power station in this multi-reservoir, multi level, multi power station hydroelectric scheme. It was operating today and everyday, but the visitor centre was closed. Mammoth turbine wheels were on display outside, and the ginourmous white feedwater pipes arched out of sight, up the slope to the dam wall. Pressing your ear against the pipe, you could hear the mighty roar of water within. And your ear became wet & cold. Now privatised as the Snowy Hydroelectric Limited (SHL), this kind of national inrfrastructure scheme would never ‘get up’ again- too many nay-sayers, minority interests, & short term political interests, all of which deny our future generations., and dwarf us in comparison to the achievements of our parents.

The convoy ambled on to Talbingo in search of a pub for lunch. No luck. But we did find the supermarket cum bottle shop cum takeaway, which did a great job of quickly serving up 12 meals of hamburgers, chips and fish things. Four doors down was some of the exhibition pieces from Tumut #3 power station, with several 3- dimensional tableaux of the Snowy Mountains Scheme.

Driving on, we entered the Blowering reservoir, which, being 26% full, allowed us to drive on the grassy treeless land. The Macdonald Fire Trail was a challenge in the wet, with most of us unable to keep all wheels rotating and in traction with the mud, & so sliding at times. However, safety ruled and no mishaps or hangups occurred. Being late afternoon, we felt the need to return to Tumut in time for happy hour; it was about 4 or 5 pm, and near darkness when we returned. Just a short trip, said Wal, and we all agreed it was a fine trip.

Muttley.