It’s almost impossible to approach Tenterfield without adding Peter Allen’s Saddler to the town’s name.  This led to an enervating discussion in the car about what rubbish lyrics that song has.  I opined that traveller and saddler were, at best, a false rhyme.  Even Jimmy Webb remains slightly ashamed of his effort: “and I need you more than want you, and I want you for all time, and the Wichita lineman, is still on the line”.  And what about “ride again jackaroo, think I see kangaroo up ahead” – arrgh!  Lesley took a strongly opposing view and said I was just a curmudgeon.  Harrumph.

Failing to use my petrol app, I then bought fuel ($230 thanks very much) at the wrong garage on the wrong side of the road, couldn’t park outside the bakery for hot cross buns and headed, largely directionless towards our next camp.  Further harrumph.

But the microwave letterbox for JJ’s Bald Rock Station appeared and we turned our massive rig up a minute and rutted dirt/mud track.  Down into low range, locking the diff (told you we’d been on a course!), we tentatively started slipping and sliding up the hill.  3.5 tonnes of dead weight on the back of the truck is a lot!  But our truck is strong and we climbed the hill, passed the “Watch for Trains” sign (incomprehensible until later) and started controlled slipping and sliding down the other side of the hill to a muddy morass, recently filled with a few slim logs and lots of bark.  By now, fortunately, we’d been met by Rick on his tractor (he’ll be able to pull us out) who assured us that with care, “no worries”.  Don’t worry, we worried!

Bumping and thumping we successfully crossed the bog and then spent a long time delicately reversing ATGANI into a secluded, partially level spot, beside a pond in the middle of the bush.  The gum-tree bush is currently green and luxuriant – the result of a total burn in 2019 and massive rains ever since.  The recovery is amazing and even up on the tablelands, every dam is full.

JJ’s is a bit weird, albeit beautiful.  There are a couple of huge train carriages arranged at right angles and somehow joined to form living quarters, hence “Watch for Trains”.  A substantial campsite area, currently mostly mud, is spread out through the bush plus there’s a rudimentary camp kitchen, a single thunderbox and drinking water from a tank.👍

However, it also comes with Rick (JJ has not been sighted) who had a team of guys helping them get ready for Easter when 50 groups will be camping (in our time, there was us and one other – the other 48 are going to sink in the mud).  Rick’s a character, nothing’s a bother and he’s handy with an Irish screwdriver, but most importantly, he’s connected to the new, vibrant Tenterfield.  And a significant part of that seems to be Bad Manners.  This is the best coffee shop we’ve ever seen – it was the hot cinnamon donuts that did it for me!  The woman who owns it was delightful, the coffee was great and the thought that’s gone into it is extraordinary – right down to a massive custom-made firepit seating area.👍👍  Across the road is the old Council Chambers, now luxury accommodation.  The dining room at the Commercial Hotel was booked out on Sunday night! The town is alive.

The National Parks here are Bald Rock and Boonoo Boonoo (exactly like Goonoo Goonoo, it’s pronounced Bunna Bunoo) which means big rock!  Bald Rock itself is a massive hunk of granite that rises up out of the landscape.  There’s an easy way and a hard way to climb to the top and because we’d done our usual zero research, we unwittingly chose the hard way – straight up the face of said bald rock, with quite a lot of stopping for breath along the way.  Sensational views from the top, all the way across the border to Queensland.  Coming down on the easy path was very “Picnic at…” and while we didn’t get lost, I had left lunch behind, so our picnic was a banana and an apple. Ho-hum.    

Later, at Boonoo Boonoo, we hiked a short distance to BB falls which were impressive, albeit the view is from the top. Even more impressive from below, I’d guess, with a 200m drop into the gorge.  Beautiful rockpools at the top but the water was raging, so no paddling for us.

Time to move on to our next stop, so with a frighteningly slippery and muddy departure, we managed to clamber back up the hill and escape.  We’re crossing into Qld, heading towards Allora where, allegedly, I lived for a year or two when I was two or three.  Mum can’t even remember the address but we’ll look for the GPs surgery and assume it was there.  Staying at a van park this time for power, water and washing.  Simple really – what could possibly go wrong?