Known unromantically as the Blue Hole, and situated at the end of a corrugated dirt road, it's a series of waterholes, some of which are very deep, nestled among charcoal-grey rocks. The spectacular series of jagged gorges to the east deliver up not only the area's most famous rain-magic phenomena of waterfalls, but also the most popular and striking of summer playgrounds, where kids gather to swim, chat, smoke, drink and flirt. Past its best, even rather down at heel, the dam and its grounds are nevertheless dear to locals' hearts, and a recent threat to its continued existence due to safety concerns has caused a storm of protest. Back towards town, and the big dam, managed by the local council, isn't much good for swimming either but is popular for sailing and rowing and fishing, family picnics and barbecues. As dangerous as backyard pools, they are much less attractive, being often muddy and leech-ridden.
Out here in the bush blocks and farms, nobody swims in their own dams. This is more of a playground, a place you might stay all day in a good year when there's been plenty of rain, and in the water, your toes are covered in the deceptive fairytale glitter of iron pyrites, the "fool's gold" found in this old gold-rush territory. Only a few more kilometres to the west, the river into which this creek flows presents a pretty picture, streaming clear as crystal past casuarina-lined banks, featuring miniature beaches of soft river sand, backgrounded by big grey boulders. This is the kind of place where parents go for a lazy weekend afternoon walk while little kids splash in the water and try to catch tadpoles darting from behind rocks, ignoring cattle staring with stolid curiosity at this invasion of their domain.īut the creek doesn't always flow, and in dry years like this one, it looks both sad and shabby.
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