From the Warrumbungles we rolled into Dubbo right as the Sunday markets were firing. Main street absolutely going off. Grabbed lunch, soaked up the vibe, then cruised on to Wellington.
Wellington turned out to be one of those unexpectedly pleasant campgrounds — right on the river, tidy, cared for, even a washing basket and pegs to borrow. The caretakers were travellers doing a six‑month stint; might even bump into them again somewhere in SA. Stayed two days.
We wandered up the local hill which… let’s just say… may need a bit of TLC. Shelly reckoned she felt like she was on a boat. What the. (Photo will explain everything.)
Next stop: Orange. Caravan park didn’t excite — muddy site, cold weather, general “meh”. But Shelly was keen to see Orange properly, so we did the town tour. We spent a bit of money , admired the architecture, and Shelly decided she could happily live in a little red brick house. Next morning, on Emma and Dom’s recommendation, we hit Byng Street Local for breakfast. Best avo on toast and coffee. Thanks legends.
Now… as someone who has watched a particular race for 50 years (thanks Dad), and as someone whose wife leaves the house for the day when that race is on, we had to go to Bathurst.
Found a caravan park just outside town — a few challenges with poles and water runoff, but the hot showers were sensational. Makes a massive difference when you’re playing in damp, cold conditions.
Bathurst surprised us. A local at a 4WD shop gave us a couple of spots to check out — Sofala and Turondale. Another time we listened to the locals and OMG.
On the way back to camp I had to do a lap or two. Ended up doing two. Shelly said I had a smile like a kid in a candy store. Amazing how a “must do” can actually be as good as you imagine. Again — thanks Dad for the love of this event.
Dave intensely doing the first corner at under 60 km before heading up to Skyline – this is the one they do at over 200. 😊
Next day: Sofala. About 40 minutes. WOW. The drive was magic. The town was quirky and arty.
Then the next 20 km along the river… pfhewwww. Imagine a gravel road winding through a valley where people still pan for gold, with hundreds of free camps scattered along crystal‑clear water and rock pools. We were dazzled — the beauty, the serenity, the lack of people. Special place. Stopped in town on the way back and met the locals — they lived up to expectations.
Took the suggested road home and again, amazing country. Another one of those special days.
We stayed another day or two. Drove south to visit the local caves — all closed due to extreme flooding in April 2024 — but the drive was still brilliant. Back in town we visited the Fossil, Mineral & Dino Museum. These places blow my mind. If you slow down and actually read things, your brain gets absolutely fried. And yes, T‑Rex was pretty big. Airlie and Harrison – how big is that Dino, and that Saber Tooth Tiger.
Time to move on. Headed for a free camp at Lake Wallace via Oberon (day markets AOK). The lake facilities… not great. So we decided to try our first farm stay (my idea). Looked interesting. Rang the owner — “Yep, come on down, we only take one group at a time.” Ten minutes later we were there.
Location: amazing. Facilities: described as “rustic”. Reality: rustic meant…
- Doggy 12‑volt wiring everywhere
- A dongle built for people 5ft tall that leaked
- A kitchen with last month’s dishes still in it
- A shower made from an old worksite toilet with a dodgy gas hot‑water setup
- An old camper’s chemical toilet
Should I continue? Built for the boys. Murray would’ve said, “Great mate, woof.” Us soft Brisso Northsiders… he could’ve at least cleaned the sink. Apparently ten minutes’ warning wasn’t enough.
Before we had dinner – took a drive Hassans Walls Lookout – another OMG – look across the valley to the Blue Mountains and gave us a want to travel further. The lookout was a wonderful surprise.
Back to camp and we had the whole place to ourselves. Big campfire. Stars were incredible. And yes, I broke his 30‑year‑old axe (handle was only 20mm round at the head — another story). It was bloody cold though. And the heater wouldn’t work on gas. Worked fine on power… but we had none. Shit it was cold.
Went to bed thinking it’d get close to zero. We wished. It hit minus 5.4 but felt like minus 7.8. We haven’t cuddled that much in a long, long time.
Next morning, once we finally clawed ourselves out from under the doona and extra blanket, we saw frost everywhere. Then we noticed ice on the inside of the roof lining. Grabbed our cups (inside the camper) for a sip of water — 5mm of ice on top. Frozen drips everywhere.
When we jumped out of the camper the whole place was white — frost across the paddocks, frost on the camper, frost on the Trailblazer. I even wandered over to see if the creek had frozen. It hadn’t, but every puddle on the walk had a sheet of ice on top. The taps had frozen drips, and anything “rustic” involving water… forget it. Solid.
I made the rookie mistake of starting to clean the ice off the camper and car without gloves. Still below zero. Within seconds my fingers started absolutely caning. “Darling, where are my gloves? Quick — my gloves!” By the time she handed them over I swear my fingers were falling off. Sometimes I can be a bit of a softy.
Needless to say, we decided to move on to a less rustic location.
All in the next post.
