Come for a Drive?

Do you want to come on a drive? Not a Sunday drive but a Saturday drive though we are not really sure what day of the week it is!!

We check the weaner calves and admire the vista across to the hills where banks of clouds are floating like long white doonas over the Liverpool Ranges.

We start the pumps and set off to the back paddocks on a route no one has taken for months and years during the three year drought. We have been feeding cows and calves in a few paddocks near the house but now they are running free.

Our so called roads are totally obscured by magnificent weeds towering over our bike in some places. We are familiar with where the road should be but it is a bit of a gamble and we hope we don’t hit a log or rocks buried under all the grass.

The tank at the top that should be full is not, so we rumble across to a gully we know feral pigs frequent. There is water leaking near the pipe and the pigs have chewed through the poly completely.

We meet back up with the road and drive towards our back creek, Rocky Creek which hardly ever has water in it. This time there are pools and evidence of heavy flows, with eroded gullies and old trees swept away down stream. We have to find alternative crossing places and I prudently hop out and walk to the other side.

At the next paddock the trough has some water but the blue float is broken and we will have to come back and fix it. We rattle up the hill to the plateau and are pleased to see that the dam below in The Basin is full so when we move the cattle tomorrow, they will be fine.

Across the fence at our neighbour’s place, the paddocks are empty as they have destocked and just kept some sheep. Wool prices have been quite good till the pandemic hit.

Most of our gates and fences are obscured by the rampant castor oil weeds and others, and I find I have small caterpillars crawling all over me as we charge through the jungle. The mustard weed makes me sneeze and I will be glad to get back inside.

The trip is over and we have circled back home to our oasis of a small courtyard with its patch of green grass, which sustained us during all those years of just seeing dirt and stones.

The miracle of rain.

Grateful to be out of that long dark tunnel.