With a sigh of relief, we headed down the excellent gravel of Maroubra Road. There had been rain and there was some water about, but the link to the northeastern Wheatbelt was easy driving. And no dust, which was an added bonus.
The pastoral stations continued until suddenly they ceased to be. Broadacre farming took over sooner than I had expected. Cropping of grains in these marginal areas is a gamble every year. Hoping for the right amount of rain and sunshine at the opportune times, without crippling frosts or unexpected thunderstorms, both of which had the potential to destroy a livelihood overnight. And the farmers of the northeastern Wheatbelt rolled the dice year after year.
Beacon was the first Wheatbelt town we reached. We were most surprised. Obviously a small settlement, Beacon still offered a large co-op, run by Jim (who was also the tourism officer), a bowls club that served dinner to all and sundry, a primary school and very tidy homes. In front of the co-op was the Smurf Park. Featuring three fountains, a proclamation by Papa Smurf, along with a multitude of smurfs and blue-faced gnomes, this quirky addition to the town was designed to get passing travellers to do a double-take.
Beacon now has humanitarian status to add to its list of achievements. With the flooding of Gnomesville near Collie, Beacon has opened its hearts to the homeless gnomes and offered them a chance to re-settle in their town. As Beacon's rainfall is less to that of the south-west, the chances of the gnomes losing their places of residence are significantly reduced.
The local kids were also contributing to Beacon's prominence with their "Sculptures in the Bush" installations. This was an impressive statement by the townsfolk. As far as we were concerned, Beacon rocked.
We drove onto Bencubbin and then turned south-east in the direction of Mukinbudin. En-route we stopped at Marshall Rock, an impressive granite outcrop with camping at its base, which beckoned us to return. Further on was the Pergandes' sheep yards and homestead ruins. The Pergandes were a prominent local family in the early years of Bencubbin. They built a homestead, a swimming pool at the base of the property's granite outcrop for the locals, tennis courts and a golf course and helped with the building of the first Catholic church in Bencubbin. I was a bit cross when I saw their house had completely collapsed. For such a giving family to Bencubbin, perhaps their home could have been salvaged.
The afternoon weather had turned nastily towards rain and cold and we were tired. We drove gratefully into the Mukinbudin Caravan Park and went to dinner at the very good Mukinbudin Cafe, operated by the efficient and cheerful Clare.
The night was bleak and blustery. Michael was very tired when we returned to Digger. He was asleep in no time. I stayed up, catching up on posts before I retired to bed as well. During the night, we were really chilled for the first time. I thanked the universe as we fired up the heating. The wind shaking Digger disturbed our sleep so we were not in the mood for early rising.
Thus the decision to stay put in Muka was remarkably easy.
Roadworks on Maroubra Road
There had been rain...
From one pastoral station to another
The surprising town of Beacon
Michael loving the metal sculptures produced by a Guildford artist
Inroducing the "Sculptures in the Bush" by the local kids
Jim, co-op Manager to the Stars and Beacon's tourism officer
The Smurf Settlement outside the co-op
Papa smurf's decree
Pergandes' sheep yards
All that is left of the homestead
In its heyday
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