Day 2 – Stanthorpe

 Looking forward to exploring historical Tenterfield, we were up earlyish, packed up our stuff and were heading out around 8:30am to see what we could find. Just around the corner from our digs, we discovered the beautiful Tenterfield Railway Station and Museum. Unfortunately, we were too early for the museum, but I was able to have a wander around the outside. I remember when we were kids Moops used to send a couple of suitcases up on the train prior to our driving to the farm for our annual holidays. Poor Uncle Norm had to drive an hour to Tenterfield Station to pick them up … but I have no qualms with this state of affairs as at least one of those cases always held Christmas presents! I guess a family of five in a sedan, even with the requisite roof racks with flapping tarpaulin, was not big enough to carry all our gear.

We then stopped in town for Gaz to grab a coffee. While he attended to his need for morning caffeine, I wandered down to the nearby river and park to check it out. I also stumbled upon the showgrounds that has a long concrete wall which Gaz had dubbed The Great Wall (eat your heart out China!) the night before when we drove past. After a quick stop at the Information Centre, (where I was assured that Mount Lindsay Road was all sealed), we stopped at the Tenterfield Saddler for a squiz. Made famous by Peter Allen, honouring his grandfather George Woolnough, it was chock full of memorabilia and leather stuff … like saddles. With Peter Allen’s music playing in the background, (and me singing along), we spent a pleasant 30 minutes or so browsing the displays that included an anecdote of how Banjo Patterson had promised his friends in Tenterfield that he would write a song about their daughter, Matilda, as he loved that she played waltzes for him on the piano. Hmm, wonder what that song was. Interestingly, I think he got married in Tenterfield.

Our next odyssey was to set off along the aforementioned Mount Lindsay Road, (it was a highway in my childhood but mainly unsealed), to ultimately arrive at my cousin Clare’s farm at Amosfield about 50 km along the road. I had planned lots of stops along the way and we actually found them all! First up was Thunderbolt’s Hideout where we wandered just into the bush to see the large boulders that sheltered that infamous bushranger who roamed these parts in the 1800s. There was a family story that my Aunty Joy used to tell that an old Aunt of hers was held up by Thunderbolt but somehow got away even though she kept her wooden leg in a drawer. OK, I might be a bit sketchy with the details, but it was an exciting story for a 5 year old to hear.

Next stop was the World War II Tank Traps. Now this was fascinating. This was part of the famed Brisbane Line from WWII where it was decided to only defend a Japanese attack at this line that stretched across the continent from Brisbane. It actually made sense of Moops’ stories from when she was a young child during the war and would have soldiers throw food and sweets from their trucks as they passed and she stood on the Mount Lindsay Highway near her house. Apparently about 10,000 troops were camped in the Tenterfield area to set up this defence and the road was the main highway between Tenterfield and Brisbane. Fascinating.

After a bit of a detour into the Boonoo Boonoo National Park, we returned to the highway, sorry … ‘road’, and continued on until the turn off to Bald Rock National Park. I had walked to the top of this rock in my youth but this time Gaz and I were more than happy to walk to the base and reflect on our feats of the past. So, it was back in the car and off in search of Willsons Downfall bush cemetery where some ancestors are buried. This facility has recently been cleaned up due to a grant and it was fascinating to see the size of the cemetery, in use up until the early 1900s when the area was bustling with many towns, tin mines, gold mines and other activity. There’s nothing there now. Though I should call the lady from the Info Centre and tell her there is still a small unsealed section of about 9 km.

Our next stop was Liston, where we viewed a Cobb & Co Coach built by a local – (I think I may have gone to his daughter’s birthday party when up there on holidays one year) – a very impressive effort. I was also happy to view the War Memorial at Liston where a number of my ancestors' names appear. Lest We Forget.

With perfect timing, we arrived at Clare’s at 12:30pm and spent a great couple of hours catching up and being spoilt with a scrumptious lunch of quiche, salad, garlic bread, stewed blackberries and home made ice cream. Yum! How will we eat when we go out tonight? A short trip into Stanthorpe and we found our motel, checked in and then briefly caught up with Stuart, my brother who had just arrived, flying from Cairns to Brisbane and then driving to Stanthorpe. Arranging to meet for dinner, we took off into town where I was keen to walk along Quart Pot Creek where I had spied some lovely looking parks and walking paths. Gaz did a bit of shopping while I walked and then it was back to the motel to get ready for dinner.

Luckily the restaurant is attached to the motel, so it was a short stroll to meet up with Stuart, Clare, and Kim, Clare’s daughter, for a good old family catch up. We ate scrumptious meals (despite that earlier worry that we wouldn’t manage to after lunch), had lots of laughs and reminiscences, and most importantly, after a whole night of deliberation, and only at the final hurdle as we were about to leave, Stuart remembered the name of Aunty Joyce’s dog … which was Rickets by the way. This had been bugging me for years and driving Kim to distraction tonight so we were very grateful that we can now rest easy.

Kim was able to educate us on the loud mooing we could hear from our motel. Apparently, a couple of thousand weaners are in the stockyards across the road ready for sale tomorrow. Gary briefly considered buying one to take home as a souvenir … but he did think he may have trouble fitting one in to the car when he has the packing worked out just perfectly.

PS - I have just remembered the dog's name was not Rickets, it was Rivets! Hallelujah! Now I can definitely rest easy.