Cobar: History and Chemistry Lessons

COBAR, NSW

Past Glories and Future Determination

The magnificent railway station is still in use but not in the way it used to be when the rich and famous travelled the line.

We last saw Cobar briefly and at the exhausted end of an inter-state jaunt, and all I remembered was a motel bed and a small bar where they'd run out of meals. There was an episode on the road in, heading directly into the setting sun, that involved several brumbies and a donkey.  Not any more.

For a start we managed our travel far better, and the feral goats were the largest creatures we saw on the journey. 

     

If you miss the town speed-limit sign, this should be an adequate welcome.

The caravan park (there's only one) is a little gem.  Large sites, neat and tidy, with several amenities blocks that are clean and well-maintained. It's on the west end of the town's main road and there are HUGE powered camping sites. Tall trees make for shade and the occasional bird visitor. Negotiating the sites is very easy, with plenty of room to manoevre. The only down was a young black female goat wandering hungrily and hopefully around, amongst other cute activities, having a munch on our guy ropes. I chased her off with a broom, gaining a little Park Reputation for having attitude but it did the trick.

The Main Street boasts wide footpaths and great paving improvements. Zan commented that they might not get much rain, Goyder's Line being way south of here, but it must all arrive at once by the look of the concrete drains and high kerbing.  Cafes and tourist shops line the southern side and a lunch-bar on the north side provided us with a unique lunch offering: a roast beef and gravy roll. Neither Zan nor I could finish ours and the coffee was just great. And Coopers Pale Ale at last!

The traffic was constant and caravan outfits in all their varieties  make up the majority of civilian transport. Road trains and B-Doubles use the fuel stops (only two at present, because the one closest to the CP is being up-graded) and queues for diesel were the norm.

                              

The town exists now, as it always has, because of mining for once gold, with some copper and other sidelines, and now copper, with the ore being shipped out - or that railed out? - and the sidelines are a well-kept secret. Around 350 miners live here to work the operation and apprenticeships are advertised for local school-leavers. I saw plenty of money driving and walking around and shops were well-stocked with goodies.

So we decided to look at the mine, having spotted the 'Look-out This Way' sign. 

Huge hole in the ground! The truck is a monster, dwarfed by its surrounds

The Look-out offers views for fifty or sixty Km in all directiosn, the surrounding landscape almost flat - with small clusters of mineral-rich lumps sticking up way off in the distance.

The workings are obvious over an enormous area, and the relics, rusting remainders and general leftovers are also obvious.

This huge operation extends for many kilometres around Cobar, evidenced  in all sorts of ways. The roads spear off into the bush, mining equipment is seen either for hopeful sale at scrap value or perhaps to the next level to be added to the pyramid scheme that is mining.

    

Finally we headed 'home', choosing a rock of just the right size to keep our rear-left jack above the concrete.   The next morning would see our first iced-solid windscreen and hear my comments about sitting under the draw-bar, doing up shackles and bars with ice-numbed extremities.

I have to say we both enjoyed Cobar, especially after a quick trip out towards Burke, where the desert colours are gorgeous but the goats are the only ones seeing them all.

Dams full, soft edges and plenty of feed, just as the early explorers might have seen it.

Goodbye for now, Cobar.  Maybe next time we might head north from here.