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Another GOF travel documentary

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Part One;

Atherton Tablelands to Mount Garnet

fence n    a barrier that encloses an area such as a garden or field.

We used to have one.

A 500 metre long front fence made out of 4 strands of barbed wire, complete with a painted gate which effortlessly swung inwards on beautifully lubricated hinges.

Twenty seven years later we don’t have one.

The gate, in it’s dotage, sick of repetitively scribing a perfect arc in the soft soil beneath it by having it’s increasingly sagging posterior dragged across it, simply dropped off it’s rusted supports in protest.

In sympathy, the fence suddenly decided it too no longer wanted to be a fence, and prostrated itself into mouldering metal strands on the ground.  The wire was neither elevated following death to some heavenly foundry, nor immediately consigned to the blast furnaces of barbed wire hell.

It just lay there.

In the long grass,

Mouldering.

Waiting for me to roll up the remains.  Major undertaking.

Mrs GOF and I are now faced with the callus-inducing, hand-shredding task of building a new fence.

There is no finer post hole digger on the planet than Mrs GOF.

Her operation of a crowbar and post-hole shovel is poetry in motion and it rivals her previously acknowledged artistic prowess when partnering her push-mower around our half acre of lawn.

Who can forget the moment in 2008 when she and her machine pirouetted at the bottom of the garden for a return swathe with such exquisite grace and degree of difficulty that she was awarded a perfect 10.

Firstly however we need to buy some large wooden posts from one of the few remaining post and railway-sleeper cutters near the small township of Mount Garnet, 140 kilometres to our west.

It is like travelling to another world.  A two hour drive from wet tropical rainforest into some very harsh, dry and rocky savannah country.

This is what you can see along the way;

(On Sunday I will post details of the return journey which will prove that the notion of “Wisdom comes with age” does not necessarily apply in all instances.)

Rural mailboxes

Very big cows

Road trains

Innot Hot Springs pub is for sale.

Innot Hot springs

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About GOF

"Life is like a sewer. What you get out of it, depends upon what you put into it." (Tom Lehrer)

24 responses »

  1. So that’s how the cows came to rule Australia.

    Great photos. Be careful on your excursion to aquire a new fence. It sounds like a ballet rather than a grueling task….I hear that making the holes takes a long time relative to the rest of it. Worth every minute, though, for us anyway.

    Reply
    • I don’t know who comes up with all these road signs…..I would think if you saw a 50 metre long road train heading for you or a cow twice as big as your car that you would drive carefully anyway.

      And fences do make for good neighbours…..main reason we’re building it….to deter humans.

      Reply
  2. Wonderful pictures! I love your comments with the pictures. Big cow, indeed!!! The mailboxes are too funny. I look forward to seeing the pictures from your return trip!!

    Reply
  3. Hello — I’m new to your blog, but we share many “neighbors” in common. I’m a fellow refugee from Vox. I love travelogues. Great photos, too.

    Reply
    • Thanks for visiting kimkiminy……I’ll check out your new home and see how a fellow refugee is settling in……..although at the moment I’m spending too much time working out how this place works, and not enough visiting my neighbors.
      The pictures were unfortunately too low res and didn’t turn out very well. I’ll try to do better next time.

      Reply
  4. I think you should forget about the fence and buy the pub. Slinging beer has to be easier than maintaining an estate.

    Reply
  5. I’m slightly alarmed by the cow sign. What kind of unearthly freakish cow is twice the size of a fmily car. On the plus side, you’re unlikely to hit it because you’ll see it 20 minutes before you reach it. Hell, you can probably see it from space.

    Reply
  6. There is no finer post hole digger on the planet than Mrs GOF.

    I adore Mrs GOF, she must have been a Flamingo Dancer in a previous life.

    [I clicked the wrong post and so your have double comments. Keep your comments to yourself should you wish to keep living]

    Reply
    • “Who can forget the moment in 2008 when she and her machine pirouetted at the bottom of the garden for a return swathe with such exquisite grace and degree of difficulty that she was awarded a perfect 10.”

      Photo definitely required. You don’t see a lot of perfect 10’s.

      Reply
      • There is a major difference between subtle observation Peter and blatantly taking photographs.
        Probably the difference between marriage and batchelorhood. 🙂

        Reply
      • This theme is not provding a “reply” link for when you make a second comment.

        Actually we share the lawn mowing because there is such a large area….I have a clapped out old plastic-framed mower and she has the newer utility mower.

        Reply
    • “Keep your comments to yourself should you wish to keep living”

      La de dah de doo *GOF early morning musical extravaganza*…..beautiful day in paradise watching my adorable Flamingo Dancer protege digging post holes. 🙂

      Reply
      • There is a major difference between subtle observation Peter and blatantly taking photographs.

        On reflection your tactics are spot on, GOF.

        Maybe that’s how come I’m back doing the mowing. 😉

        Reply
  7. LOL – you have some big arse cows up north! Great photos GOF. The springs look a little dry but very pretty.

    Reply
  8. Lol!
    Loving the post and the comments! 🙂

    Reply

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