St. George to Surat

Tom leaves early – he worries about the wind – 120k’s to Surat and a wind that is forecast to increase during the day.

Out of town towards Surat – the first sign tells him that he is a long way from anywhere - the traffic is heavy – the road verge-less – a worry – not to worry! – the traffic is destined for Dalby and Goondiwindi – we continue northward – the road? -  straight – wide enough – gravel verges – respectful and infrequent fellow travellers – the cattle road-trains that overtake drag Tom along – the cattle road-trains that pass almost bring him to a standstill!

Pass the Cotton tourist drive to Beardmore Dam –Let me see if I have got this right ! -  collect the water from the Balonne and Maranoa Rivers – let the mud settle so that it is good for fishing – distribute the water onto cotton crops – collect the muddied and “nutrified” runoff – release it into the river downstream of the river – the river remains an irrigation drain –  I expect to see a sign that says “come and see our sustainable cotton growing” - it never came!– “it is pretty clear what you think Mike” says Tom – “Barnaby will not be happy” – “but I am not anti-cotton Tom – I just think that if the cotton conglomerates can afford to build large water harvesting dams then they can also build settling facilities and nutrient depleting facilities before they dump their waste back into the river”

The roads Tom traverses are bordered by scrubby woodland for mile after mile – through occasional breaks appears huge areas of scrubland that has been forced to dance with D9 and chain – the former scrubland's host soils destined for human servitude - some country showered with attention - groomed by landplane – nourished by seeder – lavished with water – destined for servitude as a wet-nurse for cotton – other country simply left for grazing by the bovines and ovines – the tragedy obvious when the bovines choose to migrate to the remnant woodland for much of the day – still other country that has also danced with D9 and chain seems subsequently to have been left to its own devices perhaps deemed to be non-viable for the purposes intended by the D9 owners - this country fights back – a tree here – a clump of saplings there – the makings of a rebirth – when will they ever learn? – I know I am just simplistic but there must be technologies that can establish the viability of such endeavours before the woodlands are ravaged!

Road works everywhere – more stop lights than we have seen since leaving Albury

The wild dog eradication program is in full swing – these two will not be ravaging neither stock nor native animals.

Queensland – don’t litter – a message that cotton farmers appear to be exempt from – it sounds like I have a set on cotton growers! – It is just that their size and political clout seem to make them exempt from the rules that apply to the rest of the nation.

65 K's out of St. George – stop by the road-side and wait for Tom - Lubricate the van’s sore and aching dolly wheel -Tom arrives  - “Nearly 40k before I felt any wind -  good move leaving early” – “65 down and only 50 to go".

As we sit eating lunch with feel the wind picking up – I can see Tom looking just a little pensive - On his way again

Pass the Major Mitchell Trail.

Onwards into the Maranoa

So pass the billy round boys,
Don't let the pint pot stand there
For tonight we'll drink the health
Of every Overlander.

There's a trade you all know well
And it's bringing cattle over,
On every track to the gulf and back
Men know the Queensland drover.

I come from the Northern plains
Where the girls and grass are scanty
Where the creeks run dry or ten feet high
And it's either drought or plenty.

There are men from every land
From Spain and France and Flanders
They're a well-mixed pack, both white and black
The Queensland Overlanders.

When we've earned a spree in town
We live like pigs in clover
And the whole dam cheque pours down the neck
Of many a Queensland drover.

As I pass along the road,
The children raise my dander
Shouting "Mother dear, take in the clothes
Here comes an Overlander".

There's a girl in Sydney Town
Who said "Please don't leave me lonely"
I said "it's sad, but my old Prad
Has room for one man only.

But I'm bound for home once more
On a Prad that's quite a goer
I can find a job with a crawling mob
On the banks of the Maranoa

As Surat is approached the actively worked fields increase -  more large paddocks – some in fallow - some in crop – some supporting grazing cattle – the area looks more prosperous than its immediate southern neighbours.

Further confirmation of where we are and why mobile phone reception is so bad!

Past the modern-day drover – a mobile apartment that out shines those of the city-slickers that slow as they pass the herd – satellite TV – an aging shell petrol tanker given a new life as the water source for this herd as they move along the long paddock towards Surat.

Into the town – I like this place – I feel comfortable – immediately note the number of tinnie laden tow vehicles hauling mobile homes tailored to purpose - the fisher-people are here!

The Caravan Park looks OK - dominated by cabins – many occupied – perhaps fisher-people – look for the office - at last a sign! – see us at the pub – oblige – set up in no time -  I am sure the van must be in love – she has been so well behaved- there can be no other explanation!

Wander this pretty but tiny town on the banks of the Balonne – 400 people - it looks proud – it feels proud – it is here for the long term – two cafes – food-store – butcher – hotels – impressive Cobb and Co. museum – impressive river walk – impressive tribute to the shire before amalgamations – impressive tribute to an old local – everywhere the town exhibits pride – lawns are mowed – parks are clean – people are polite – something just a bit special about this place!. 

Today's Strava data