Day 141: It’s All In The Book.

Unbeknown to us when we parked yesterday afternoon, we had stopped in a campground through which runs a rather busy freight train line. Thus, rather than falling to sleep with the rumbling sound of trucks in my ears and visions in my thoughts, it was to the creaking of steel wheels grinding against the steel rails as trains struggled slowly around the bend in the track. We had imagined after the first train rumbled by, that way out here in the sticks as we were, surely it would be the only one, but how wrong were we as a further 5 or 6 trains made their way noisily past our camp throughout the night.

Despite the groaning of the rail freight pervading the silence, I slept well, and awoke ready to face the day. And what a day it was to be, a balmy warmth already evident when I looked out of the van at just after 9:00AM. The warmth however brought a swarm of blowflies with it, and stepping out of the confines of the van saw me almost instantly covered in a thick black veneer of the buzzing pests.

Our hastiness to move on was hampered slightly this morning also by the need to re-hitch the van to ‘The Beast’. As a result of the sloping bit of dirt on which we had parked, it had been necessary to drop the van off of the ball to level things out yesterday. Even with the delay caused by wedding the van to ‘The Beast’ again, we managed to roll out of the camping area a few minutes earlier than planned, heading further south and back towards the coast to take our chances with the weather.

There were no stops along the way today, apart from a brief respite to use the bathroom, before we reached our destination at a caravan park on the outskirts of the seaside town of Esperance. We were actually a little worried about staying here, as the price suggested that it might be a bit of a dive. At $20.00 per night, it is one of the cheapest caravan parks in which we have laid our heads, but on first impressions it seems more than adequate for our needs.

That said, the access roads are quite narrow, which made getting around the park to our allotted site a little more difficult than I would have liked, but it all went smoothly from there. Even with the tight space we had to work with, we were able to quickly and rather easily reverse the van onto our site. This I think was a major disappointment to a few other campers who were peering out from beneath their shade giving awnings, watching our efforts, no doubt hoping for us to fail miserably. No such show was to be performed today however, and we were quickly kicking back in the comfort of our home on wheels.

The first order of business once we were set up, was to make arrangements with the air-conditioning mechanic to come out to have a look at our otherwise inept reverse cycle cooling and heating unit. Thankfully he is able to take a gander at it tomorrow morning, so with any luck we will soon enough have the luxury of heating and cooling in the van again. At this rate, we may well need both functions, as the temperature today has reached a top in the higher range of the twenties, although our luck may not hold, with cooler weather and possible storms forecast for our time here in Esperance.

Following a quick lunch in the van, we headed out for a look around, to see what Esperance has to offer for us. Along our travels, we have heard many positive reviews of Esperance, so we are expecting big things. Maybe it was the darkening clouds amassing over the ocean or our unrealistic expectations of the town, but we didn’t find it to be as exciting as we had hoped. The biggest draw card is said to be some of Australias best beaches though, so I look forward to seeing them under the bright light of a gleaming sun. Maybe that will change my first impression.

In town, we had enough time to visit the information centre, where the helpful staff trotted out the usual line of “Here’s a book. Everything you need to know is in there.” Really? Is that all you’ve got in your verbal arsenal to endear your town to visitors. If so the city may as well save a few bucks by replacing the centre with a magazine rack and a sign that says: “Here’s a book. Everything you need to know is in there.” We did eventually flick through the glossy pages of the brochure to pick a few things out that we want to see while in town though.

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Historic Museum Village.

Lined up through the park adjacent the visitor information centre was a series of little historical buildings, all moved to this location over time, and now billed as a Historic Museum Village. A range of arts and craft biased businesses call the cottages home, so we browsed through them slowly before taking a drive around the main shopping area of town.

That was pretty much the extent of our afternoon, and we soon found ourselves back at the van, ready to kick back for the rest of the day. It feels like it’s been a busy few days, so a chance to have a break was a welcome respite from the constant go, go, go that we’ve endured over the last week or so. It was just a shame that a marauding squadron of mosquitoes wreaked havoc on our attempt to watch the sky light up luminously pink with the setting sun.

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What’s that saying about pink sky at night?

Oh, I must mention too, for those of you who are interested, I have put a couple of tips in relation to the kilometre challenge somewhere on the website. It will be up to you to see if you can uncover them. Best of luck.

Until next time, stay safe, have fun and don’t forget to write.

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Day 140: A Blast Around Town.

We were leaving Kalgoorlie today, but not before one last blast around town to take in the final few sights that we wanted to see. That meant that we had to be up at a relatively early hour, so as to have enough time to do all that we wanted. As it turned out, we were actually ready to leave the park 20 minutes earlier than expected. That was a blessing in disguise, although I think I would have preferred the extra sleep this morning.

I had slept terribly, despite dreaming happy thoughts about riding down the side of the ‘Super Pit’ in one of the giant dump trucks. I think my dreams may have been influenced by the roaring sound reminiscent of one of these trucks coming from the other side of the caravan and it was this constant loud droning that had hampered my ability to get a decent nights rest.

Out of the caravan park, we made our way to the Hannan Tourist Mine and Super Pit Shop. This complex has only recently been reopened, and is still undergoing renovations, so many of the displays were still in disarray or closed. That might explain the modest entry price of $2.00 per person, while it was a further $2.00 to join the tour of the truck. I would have been happy to pay a whole lot more just for the chance to climb the narrow steps that lead diagonally up past the radiator of one of the giant Cat 793 trucks, reaching the platform and drivers cab a whopping 5 metres higher. But no, $4.00 was all they asked of us, so at that price, even Bec signed up for the tour.

The tour of the truck wasn’t destined to begin until 11:00AM though, which gave us almost an hour to look around the rest of the complex. In its current state, an hour is too long, so we got a chance to explore every nook and cranny, before Bec relaxed in the serenity of the Chinese garden, peering across the pond, as Koi swam energetically below. While Bec watched the darting fish, I wondered back to wait my time out in the vicinity of the truck, so as to make sure I didn’t miss out on the tour.

As 11:00AM approached, I was fidgeting agitatedly, waiting amongst a group of ½ a dozen others who were also waiting to climb the steps to the pinnacle of the giant yellow tipper. After a wait that seemed eternal, a young girl finally came out of the office, handed out hard hats for us all to wear, just to make it feel more authentic, then unlocked the gate across the bottom of the steep steps leading up to the upper reaches of the huge machine. At the top, there was ample room for us all to mill about uncrowdedly on the expansive platform, while we were given a rundown on the pertinent information about the trucks and their busy lives hauling ore about the mine. A chance to sit in the drivers cab was the highlight of the tour, with Bec hovering around like a professional paparazzi photographer, making sure my elation was captured for all prosperity.

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Bec begrudgingly clambers up the stairway…

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…to take photos of me in the drivers seat.

For such a giant piece of machinery, I was surprised to see how spartan the interior of the cab was, although this particular truck is an older Cat 793C. Apparently the newer models feature a more modern look, with digital displays replacing many of the analogue instruments. I would also imagine that the built in ashtray might well be a thing of the past. Sitting nearly 5 ½ metres up in the air, surrounded by steel, the view of the road isn’t the best, although cameras and rear view mirrors that rival the size of a normal cars windscreen assist with maneuvering.

Only after the guide had suggested a couple of times that it might be time for the tour to wrap up, was Bec finally able to drag me back to earth, but there was no wiping the smile off of my face as I declared this to be among the top three of my highlights for the trip. Somewhat surprisingly I thought, Bec didn’t rate the experience quite so highly.

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Feeling a little tired after all the fun and excitement.

While atop the truck, we had been advised that blasting at the ‘Super Pit’ was due to take place at midday today, which gave us just enough time to reach the lookout after we left the tourist mine. We actually arrived about 10 minutes early, but that gave us ample time to stake out a position along the fence line, looking deep into the pit towards where the blasting zones were neatly laid out. The lack of activity within the pit was palpable as we waited patiently. I was expecting a whistle or a siren to announce the imminent detonation, but we nearly missed the first explosion. There was nothing more than a puff of smoke and dust to announce the spectacle, followed several seconds later by the low pitched, growling woomph of the blast. Before the dust had even settled, a second zone of solid rock was pulverized in the same fashion. Funnily, Bec preferred watching the explosions to climbing the haul truck.

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There one second.

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Gone the next.

 

We back tracked back into town next, to do a bit of last minute grocery shopping, before eventually leaving Kalgoorlie at about 1:15PM. We had originally planned to spend tonight in Kalgoorlie, but instead decided to start our southbound trek towards Esperence, deciding to stay in a rest area on the side of the road to save a few dollars. We were thankful though that we only had to make it about 150Km down the road, before we could set up camp. The short drive today was especially welcome, since I was already feeling tired. I think the fatigue was brought on by my ordinary sleep last night, combined with the excitement of the morning and the hot sun streaming through the windscreen as we bounced along the road, surrounded by Eucalypt forests to our camp ground.

On an exciting note before I go tonight, both Bec and I have now received confirmation of extensions to our leave from work, so we have decided to adjust our date of return. Just by a couple of days, but an extension nonetheless. Ostensibly to make up for the time we lost in Perth, it’s more to do with the fact that we just don’t want to return home. So, instead of expecting us home on the 11th of October, you can now mark the 14th of October in your diaries as the date of our grand arrival back in Melbourne. Only the date, not the time has changed though, so taking into account this mornings 20 minute credit we’re aiming for 5:20PM on the 14th. See you all then.

Until next time, stay safe, have fun and don’t forget to write.

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Day 139: A Spring In My Step For My Fathers Day Treat.

It was to be far from a day of rest this beautiful Sunday, the first of day of September, the first day of spring and fathers day to boot. So, first of all, I send out a great big happy fathers day to all of the dads out there, and trust yours was a day full of socks and jocks!

For us, it was to be a day full of sight seeing around Kalgoorlie, starting with a look at their weekly market. It was a compact array of craft stalls, numbering all of about 15 or so. Nothing took our fancy, although we spent a good while chatting to a couple of the stallholders about our recent travels. They didn’t seem surprised when we exclaimed how much we loved Kalgoorlie as they iterated their own love of the town. One lovely lady manning the raffle ticket booth told us how she had come here for 2 years. That was over 30 years ago.

The next entry in our itinerary was the Kalgoorlie heritage walk. You can hire an audio guide, to wear like an old school Walkman, which gives you a detailed description of the 30 odd sites you come across if you do the entire walk. We decided to forego the audio tour, and rely on the brochure we had collected from the information centre that provided us with a map and a brief description of each of the buildings listed. The second alteration we made to the plan was to complete the walk in sectors, allowing us to drive from point to point. This made it all that much easier on our feet, although possibly not any quicker, as we circled the town in ‘The Beast’ looking for each of the nominated buildings.

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Some of the…

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…buildings…

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…found on the…

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…heritage walk.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was very enlightening to learn a little more about each of the towns more historic structures, as well as spotting quite a few other beautiful buildings that didn’t make the grade, for what ever reason, to be included in the walking notes.

With our walking/driving tour of town completed, we drove to the outskirts of town for another look at Hammond Park. This was the parkland we had detoured past yesterday, when we found the grounds to be inundated by screaming, yelling little people. Unfortunately, today was no different, but with our time here in Kalgoorlie running short, we gritted our teeth and immersed ourselves into the realm of families and young kids.

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Holding the gates shut to keep the kids in!

With thick lush grass, set out around a central lake and several picnic huts scattered about, I could see the family friendly allure. Add that to the kangaroos and emus happily living out the back in their own special enclosure and a series of large birdcages with a range of feathered friends to amuse the crowds it was an enjoyable place to spend an hour or so. One cockatoo in particular had us in fits of laughter after it laughed boisterously back at us.

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“Quick, get me out of here.”

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“Who’s a pretty bird?”

 

The only thing I didn’t enjoy, was watching the unacceptable behavior of some of the kids, running about crazily chasing peacocks with sticks. I felt like picking up a branch myself and chasing the kids to see how they would like it, but I thought that there might be someone watching who would deem that to be unacceptable behavior.

With the wildlife in abundance at Hammond Park, dogs were not permitted, so after we had seen enough, we found a playing field where we could take our beloved animals out for a walk, before heading back to town for lunch. We stopped in at a café, where we could get a bite to eat and a drink, while reading the weekend paper as we waited for out next appointment.

Father or not, Bec was treating me to a special fathers day treat next. She was taking me to a brothel. She was even going to join me. Not in the way you might be thinking though. Hay Street in Kalgoorlie is well known as a redlight district, which in its heyday hosted 18 bordellos. There are now only 2 and it seems that the oldest profession in the world isn’t quite enough to maintain their viability. So at 3:00PM each day, the 102 year old doors of last remaining original house, ‘Questa Casa’ are thrown open to allow the curious public to take a peek behind the windowless pink façade.

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Ready for the grand tour.

We were not the only inquisitive deviates about, as nearly 2 dozen paying customers squeezed into the little reception room at the front of the house, before a stream of further hopeful participants were turned away. Gladly, we were not greeted by name, which may have been a source of great embarrassment, by a plain looking woman of indeterminate age, who introduced herself as the madam. With a soft, breathy voice, she spoke in a way that belied her innocent demeanor. This was not a lady you would like to cross. She was a story teller though, and soon had us straining our ears, lapping up her tales of the Hay Street golden years. It was explained how all of the brothels that had sprung up around town during the gold rush years were moved to Hay Street to provide an easily managed precinct for them to operate within. The rules around them were strict, but stringently adhered to.

For $20.00 per person, much less than the currently offered evening services, we were given an intimate history of prostitution in Kalgoorlie, saw the original ‘starting stalls’ in which the deals are still negotiated between the willing participants before moving inside to the bedrooms, of which we were also given a viewing. As odd a tourist attraction it may seem, it was a thoroughly interesting, if not stimulating, experience.

It was after 4:00PM by the time we returned to the van, which gave us enough time to pack up what we could in readiness for hitting the road again tomorrow, before getting dinner ready. Of dire consequence, we retrieved our chicken from the fridge to find it still frozen. We are just not destined to have any luck with this fridge. I was all for melting them in the microwave, but the icy look I got from Bec at this suggestion was enough to re-freeze the hapless breasts. A heated debate ensured about the merits of thawing the chicken in the microwave as opposed to taking a trip to the hopefully still open supermarket to pick up some fresh fillets. Lengthy enough was our discussion, that the chicken was practically thawed by the time we decided just to hack it into small pieces and fry it up. Dinner I might add, was delicious!

Until next time, stay safe, have fun and don’t forget to write.

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Day 138: A Fancy Name For A Garden.

Further trip planning conspired to keep us busy this morning. Having travelled inland instead of taking our planned route through the southwestern area of Western Australia has thrown our itinerary out to some extent. We have therefore had to perform some on the fly planning to get it back on track. Satisfied that we at least have a caravan park site booked now for our stay in Esperence, we headed into town for a busy day of shopping and sight seeing.

We started by driving from one end of Kalgoorlie to the other and back again to check out a few stores we had come across but which had already closed yesterday. A camping store, craft shop and a couple of electrical stores were on the agenda, but no bargains were to be had, so we were left empty handed.

It was decided that we had had enough on the shopping front by then, so went in search of the Western Australia Museum, Kalgoorlie/Boulder. It was easily located by pointing the nose of ‘The Beast’ in the direction of the towering mining poppet at the end of the main street.

Interestingly, entry to the museum is by voluntary donation, although the suggested donation is $5.00 per person. I read this to mean that entry was free, although felt bad as we entered, and succumbed to handing over a $10.00 note. How’s that for the power of suggestion? Regardless of how much we had paid, it was well worth the cost, with a fantastic display of items from the areas past. A series of galleries in the newest annex of the complex housed displays of fossilised bones found while digging for gold, actual gold nuggets (surprisingly found while digging for gold would you believe?), antique cars and information on the life of the early miners who found themselves searching, mostly heart achingly, for the elusive glimmer of precious yellow metal.

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Some…

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…of the…

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…museum…

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…displays.

 

The original British Arms Hotel forms another gallery in which early hotel memorabilia displays are featured. Interestingly, the hotel was the narrowest two storey hotel in the southern hemisphere, measuring only 3.2metres across.

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3.2 metre wide den of iniquity.

In the wider grounds of the museum complex are a series of original Kalgoorlie cottages to wander through, each with their own little stories depicted on plaques adorning the walls.

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One of the quaint cottages.

Finally, there was the poppet head that served as a beacon for us by which to locate the museum in the first place. Bec was initially concerned that she would not be able to make it up to the lofty heights of the viewing platform. Thankfully, the steep flight of steps leading up the side were only for show, and the upper deck is reached by a lift which rapidly elevates you directly to the top. From there, the city of Kalgoorlie spread out beneath us, although the howling wind made it difficult to enjoy without the constant anxiety that my hat would become airborne.

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Looking up at me looking down.

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The view from the top.

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The view at the top.

 

Finished at the museum, we were going to go looking for what was described in the tourist brochures as the tallest rubbish bin in the world. We didn’t need to bother, as upon stepping out of the museum we noticed it directly across from where we had parked. It was easy enough to miss, being that it bore no resemblance to a garbage bin in any shape or form. It was nothing more than a large steel tube sticking up, out of the surrounding dirt to reach about 5 or 6 metres in stature. Had it not been for the hurriedly hand painted ‘tallest rubbish bin in the world’ inscription, we would not have recognised it for what it was.

With the museum and rubbish bin crossed off of our to do list, we motored across town to where we planned to have a walk around Hammond Park. We got there to find the whole area to be inundated with families. It hardly looked a relaxing prospect, with crowds of kids running about excitedly, so we drove on by without stopping, instead coming across the Kalgoorlie Arboretum. With the kids confined to Hammond Park, and only a few people giving their dogs a run in the off leash dog exercise area, the arboretum appeared a much more tranquil option.

We had barely parked and taken Alvin and Bethany out of ‘The Beast’ when a raucous commotion shattered the serenity though. We looked across to the dog area, which we had thankfully given a wide berth, knowing what our two are like. There were half a dozen dogs, all attacking a single animal with a primal savagery. The noise alone was sickening, as a gaggle of owners fought to gain control of the rampaging mob, thumping and punching at the raging animals. We were some distance away, but quick as a flash, I had Alvin under one arm, Bethany under the other and they were bundled unceremoniously into the safe confines of ‘The Beast’. Their walk could wait, as the hapless crowd finally managed to separate the mauling mob and haul them off in separate directions. Thankfully, with the animals all rapidly driven away, we were left to enjoy the surrounds on our own.

We had looked up the definition of ‘arboretum’ when we first read it on the tourist map the other day, discovering that according to the greatest source of reliable information ever, Wikipedia, that “an arboretum in a narrow sense is a collection of trees only…(but) more commonly, today, an arboretum is a botanical garden containing living collections of woody plants…”

We found this definition to be apt, in that the park has a series of walking paths between a large collection of native trees. We started out on the longer of the three walks on offer, but by midway through decided to take the short cut back to the car park. It was a lovely waltz along the tree lined path though, taking in the many varietals of specimens on display.

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Some of the trees…

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…we saw at the…

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…Kalgoorlie…

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…Arboretum.

 

Back at ‘The Beast’ and with no sign of any of the aforementioned brutal dogs, we were able to at last get Alvin and Bethany out for a bit of a run. They bounded happily along the lush grass, the first chance in days they have had to get a decent run, leaving us all huffing and puffing as a result.

We made it back to the van by a bit after 3:00PM, where I told Bec to have a lie down while I sorted out the washing, made her something to eat and tidied the van. All of this I declared, I would do just as soon as I took the dogs out the toilet. An hour and a half later, after stopping to chat to our neighbours for a little while, I finally got back to our van, to find Bec eating the snack she had made for herself, after she had sorted the laundry and tidied the van. Oops. Then Alvin scratched at the door to remind me that he still hadn’t been to the toilet, having sat patiently by my side for the entire time I was busy nattering away. I wasn’t all too popular for a while. Not at least until well after I had prepared dinner and promised to do the dishes on my own. Which reminds me, I’d better get moving, because those dishes ain’t going to wash themselves.

Until next time, stay safe, have fun and don’t forget to write.

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Day 137: Take Me To The Tonka Trucks.

I was nice and warm overnight. At least I was, right up until the moment the alarm went off. As soon as it sounded, my body must have reminded my brain that the heater was out of action and that I was rather much colder than I would have liked to be. I had no time to consider my temperature predicament though, as I had places to be.

I had booked a tour of the ‘Super Pit’ the other day, to ensure that I didn’t miss out on what is one of Kalgoorlies major and most definitely biggest tourist attraction. Bec showed a distinct lack of interest in paying $70.00 for a bus ride around a big hole in the ground, so I was partaking in the tour on my own, allowing Bec to enjoy a sleep in.

I eagerly arrived at the designated pick up point at the tour office in the main street of Kalgoorlie, a good half an hour before the tour was to depart, just to make sure I didn’t miss the bus so to speak. That also gave me a chance to have a good look around the gift shop, as the other passengers slowly trickled through the door. By 9:30AM, there were 35 of us, all milling about anxiously waiting for the bus to arrive.

When it did, we were introduced to Ray who was to be our guide for the morning. He handed out safety glasses and hi-visibility workers vests, to be worn for the duration of the tour, while checking that everyone was appropriately dressed for the days activities. Then it was onto the bus for our plant ‘induction’ courtesy of a DVD that Ray seemed able to recite ad nauseam. All fully kitted out and inducted, it was on with the tour.

Along the way from the town centre to the plant, Ray pointed out a number of historical features and began to explain the mining operation. It is an absolutely massive business, the scope of which is impossible to describe. The ‘Super Pit’ is run by a conglomerate of companies under the umbrella of KCGM (Kalgoorlie Consolidated Gold Mine) and consists of two mines. A traditional underground mine and the open cut pit. Our tour today was to focus on the open cut mining scheme.

From the time we entered the security gate, my eyes were agog at the giant scale of everything. To be honest, a lot of what Ray was saying went over my head. I just wanted to yell, “Take me to the big dump trucks”. Well, my yearning to spot the trucks was soon satisfied as we drove around the maintenance area. Several of the gigantic yellow beasts were there, undergoing their regular servicing or tyre changing, looking just like the Tonka trucks I played with as a child, just on a much grander scale. The Cat 793 trucks are the main stay of the haulage operation here, running 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, hauling close to 250 tonnes of rock on each trip up the steep, snaking road alongside the side of the open pit.

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The size of these trucks is evident in this pic.

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What a machine!

 

 

 

 

 

Scarily, as we moved on to a vantage point overlooking the mine, these gargantuan rigs took on that childs toy look as even their size was dwarfed by the vast scale of the pit itself. Essentially a hole in the ground, rock is blasted, then loaded into the dump trucks by even larger ‘face diggers’, which look like back hoes on steroids. The buckets on these face diggers are large enough to fully load the dump trucks in four swift scoops. The rock is then hauled up to the surface in a meticulously planned operation that sees each load delivered to the precise location it is required at. On average, once refined each truck load of rock can be expected to yield enough gold to form a nugget the size of a golf ball. Now there’s a gold ball I wouldn’t mind getting my hands on!

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In the ‘pit’.

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Hard at work.

 

 

 

 

 

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As big as they are, they look like toys in the ‘pit’.

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Consider the size of the ute at the right of frame.

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Loading operation is over in minutes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

At the conclusion of the 2 ½ hour tour, I may not have fully comprehended the intricacies of the entire operation, but I did know one thing for sure. Those trucks are HUGE! Bec was rather amused when I returned to the van and happily expressed that the tour would have to be one of the highlights of my trip, solely as a result of getting to see the trucks. Getting to descend a 100 metres into the pit and touring the processing plant were just happy bonuses.

While I had been out, Bec had her sleep in, then got stuck into the dishes that we had been too despondent to have worried about last night. Along with a few other household chores, she had the van in good order when I returned, ready for us to head back into town for a bit of look around.

Our first stop was at the KCGM office, where I had to gain permission to use any of the photos I took this morning in my blog. It was as simple as showing them the photos I intended to post on line, so that they could be checked for anything that might paint the company in a poor light.

We then made our way to the Mount Charlotte Lookout, which interestingly is the extreme end of the golden water pipe. It finishes almost insignificantly at a giant water tank and a fountain from which spews the water that began its journey east bound from Perth almost two weeks earlier. As well as viewing the pipeline terminal, the lookout provides fantastic views over the Kalgoorlie township.

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Super Pit tailings viewed from the Mount Charlotte lookout.

It was the township that we headed for next, stopping in the main street to see what was on offer at the information centre, as well as walking up and down the street. Not only did we look through the shops, but we also paid attention to the stately architecture of the many gold rush era buildings. The lavish expense could still be identified, with ornate facades and even a dome gilded in gold topping the city clock tower.

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Gold topped clock tower.

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Kalgoorlie main street.

 

 

 

 

 

 

From the little we saw of Kalgoorlie today, we decided that it was one of the nicer towns we have visited during our travels. We did notice one disconcerting trend however, and that was the exaggerated overflow of testosterone, which manifested in a high speed race from every green traffic light, accompanied by the deafening thrashing of pistons pumping up and down. What can you expect of a town that is predominantly inhabited by young males, employed in highly paid mining jobs and generally driving late model V8 utes.

After finishing our shopping, we made our way up to the ‘Super Pit’ lookout, just in time to watch the sun setting over Kalgoorlie. As the light disappeared from the sky, we were able to look down into the pit, picking out the still busy machinery by the pin pricks of strobe lights weaving their way around the perimeter of the hole. Even Bec had to admit, it was pretty cool.

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The dogs don’t think much…

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…of the lack of a heater.

 

Until next time, stay safe, have fun and don’t forget to write.

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