Soaked and Saturated – I’m a Prune!
Stop seeding the clouds.
I’m fleeing.
I Surrender.
St Helens here I come.
I left Cradle Mountain because of the storm. I should have known – head east. No I headed southwest. Yesterday afternoon I pulled in to the trailhead for Montezuma Falls. There were occasional showers all afternoon long. The sun peeked from behind a cloud every hour or so. It was good. As I was walking back I felt a chill. By the time I slid the door back and crawled into my house there was a down right chill in the air.
I cranked up the stove to start the tea kettle a boil. Hot chocolate was on order. A peculiar odour invaded my space. There was more steam coming off my breath then the tea pot. I had run out of gas!
Double checking – still no gas.
I closed the door tighter and pulled the curtains closed hoping they would be just a little more insulation. The temperature continued to drop.
Time for drastic action. I pulled on a fleece top and fleece leggings. Somewhere I have a pair of fleece gloves. Bugger that. I’m going to unpack my down sleeping bag. The Traveler’s Auto Barn bags weren’t cutting it. I curled up and was soon fast asleep.
Through the night I woke several times. I was being pelted by hail. The ground would turn white, then the heavy rains would wash it away.
This morning it was still a constant onslaught of rain; rain blowing past the view in massive sheets.
First item on the agenda – get gas. I checked in town.
“The caravan park sells gas IF you can find ANYBODY there?”
That left me full of hope. Sure enough they sold gas but nobody was there. That was Rosebury. I headed off to Tullah. Along the way the clouds parted and sun broke through. I was hoping . . .
As the wisp of cloud parted like draperies from the front window. I was shocked to see the granite spires with a white lace covering. The steep faces a deep color while the gentle surfaces were decorated by snow. Greenery shown in the sun. I looked for a place to stop. Moments later the curtains drew shut and the ceiling lowered. In Tullah nothing was open. I rounded the bend on the north side of town. Massive clouds of steam billowed from a shed.
Wee Georgie was waking up. I couldn’t resist. I had to see Wee Georgie.
Wee Georgie Wood arrived at Tullah in 1924. Considering Wee Georgie honoured a music and stage comedian, I’m sure there was ample fanfare upon his arrival. Wee Georgie replaced the horse drawn tram which had been in operation since 1908 and was a big improvement hauling lead ore from the mine in packs and by pack train.
I pulled in and snatched up my camera and flash. This was going to be worth seeing. I cautiously poked by head into the shed. Nobody saw – or so I thought. I caught a movement beneath Wee Georgie – something is alive. I took a few more pictures and moved closer.
About this time the engineer emerged from the pit – hands coated with grease. I stepped aside.
“Weather’s not good today,” he commented, “but it’s great for photographs.” “I’m just going to move her outside.”
Hmmm, Wee Georgie is feminine – it probably fits small and petite. I cleared myself from the track. From across the parking lot I heard the conductor, “Do you have closed toe shoes? If you do you can go for a ride.”
Without further ado I raced for my shoes and socks – yes I almost always wear sandals occasionally to peoples dismay.
“My husband is going to do a track check. Would you like to go along?”
Did the question need answering? “Why yes, Thank you.”
A few minutes later I was aboard Wee George standing behind the fire box and shoveling coal to keep the boiler steaming. I thought of Robert Service’s “The Cremation of Sam Magee” as I warmed up “Please close that door, It’s fine in here.”
We made a quick run around the nearly 2 kilometre loop. All was well. I stood almost mesmerized by the constant swish as the 0-4-0 steamer worked its way along the track. I blew the whistle as we neared the crossing.
Once the cars were coupled we moved the carriage over to the station to await passengers.
Until 1964 the tramway was the only connection Tullah had with the outside world. Provisions arrived by tram. Ore left the same way. People rode the cars in and out of town. In 1964 the Murchison Highway made the locomotive redundant. In 1977 “Wee Georgie Wood Steam Railway, Inc” was formed. Wee Georgie was saved from the scrap heap. The local communities banded together as a group of volunteers and together with financial support from local businesses Wee George Wood again steamed to life on 5 February 1987. Wee Georgie rides on a segment of the original rails. With the flooding caused by Bastyan Reservoir parts of Wee Georgie’s original route are flooded. Plans are to lengthen the rail line to the lake’s shore.
I took a few more photographs and posed for my own.
“Stop at the Pioneer Museum in Zeehan. Here’s a 25% off voucher.”
I was off. I took the long route to Zeehan over the high mountains and along the shores of several manmade lakes. Hydro Tasmania was busy in it’s heyday. It seems that every gorge and canyon has been drowned beneath a lake. The power is needed to sustain the state’s mineral industry.
An hour later I arrived in Zeehan. It is a town sparkling with charm when compared to the other small towns along the way. Tullah, Queenstown and Rosebury felt like industrial towns. The buildings blaa, the homes in industrial rows with tin sides. Town centre in Zeehan has character. The original buildings have been preserved and restored to their original character. It would have been refreshing even without the rain.
The museum was interesting – a good historical overview of the mining industry. Rooms full of old photographs. The operating table from the original hospital along with tools of the trade were displayed. After looking at the massive leather straps used to restrain patients on the operating table I’m fully convinced anesthesia used in the early 1900’s must have left something to be desired. I’m glad progress has been made in medical science.
Outside the building was an operational blacksmith shop. Old compressors were displayed. Several steam engines. Mine carts curved around the edge. Heavy equipment was strewn in the back 40. The experience was getting tedious.
I made my way into the mine replica. The Zeehan School of Mines operates next door. The museum was once its home. Housed deep in the cavern was a collection of spectacular mineral specimens. I walked around the display cases. Then I returned. Next I took photographs then changed lens and did it again. Just in case I’d missed something I went back over the entire collection. I eventually forced myself to leave the display. I need to move on. Strahan was calling.
I was in Strahan 11 years ago. It was raining. It is still raining. Something about nearly 4 metres of rain per year. It must always rain. I wanted to ride the Wilderness Railway and take a tour on the Gordon River but with rain and fog obscuring the views I decided to move on.
Queenstown – a desert in the jungle. Queenstown is the site of a smelter; a smelter which has operated for over 100 years. In the early years it burned 700 tons of wood and coal each year to fire the kilns. The hills were cleared to feed the furnace. Sulfer dioxide billowed from the stacks. It mixed with the atmospheric moisture quickly returning to the ground as sulfuric acid. The vegetation died. Every new sprout died. The soil died. Today, almost 100 years later the hillsides around Queenstown are still barren; devoid of vegetation.
I continued east into heavier rain pursuing my quest for sun.
For more information about Wee Georgie Wood: http://tullah.org/wgw/index.html
