It's a typical late spring afternoon on the vast Monaro plains.
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Driving along the Snowy Mountains Highway between Nimmitabel and Cooma while heat haze shimmers off the fields of granite boulders that punctuate an otherwise barren landscape, storms clouds gather hastily in the east. As the crow flies, Nimmitabel is not far from the coastal escarpment, meaning the weather can change quickly here.
In fewer than three minutes the sky darkens completely, and if the Yowie mobile's outside thermometer is to be believed, the temperature plummets from 31 to just 8 degrees. Such a dramatic drop in the mercury at this time of year means just one thing – hail.
It's an extraordinary cloud burst and the highway, which just moments earlier had dust-encrusted tumbleweeds blowing across it, is now littered with piles of ice. Ahead is another unexpected peril. Through the slithers of ice on the windscreen I spot a cow cavorting across the road. Another swipe of the windscreen wipers reveals dozens of cattle dotted along the bitumen, some chasing each other, others trying to nibble the green pick on the roadside.
It's years since I've seen cattle grazing the "long paddock" (roadside corridors) on the Monaro and given the poor visibility, I pull-off the road and wait for the storm to pass, which fortunately it does almost as fast as it arrived.
A few hundred metres further up the road I notice a man, sitting still on a horse – no doubt the drover responsible for the mob. I drive ahead to check he's alright. With nowhere to hide he would have copped a battering from the hail. However as I get closer to him, it's clear he's fine, and what's more the ground here is remarkably dry — a reflection of the hit and miss nature of these spring storm cells.
"That was a close call," remarks the drover who after some coaxing eventually introduces himself as Mark Fraser.
I ask him where he's from. Although Fraser's curt response is of "no fixed address," he does reveal the 250-strong mob's home – a farm not far from Nimmitabel.
Starting to warm to me (must be my akubra) Fraser confirms the rarity of this cattle drive. "It's the first lot [of cows] through here for over 10 years. .... I've been on the road with them, travelling at least six kilometres every day, since August."
"Yeah, it was late winter and there wasn't much feed around so the owner decided it was best to get 'em out here in the long paddock," Fraser says, adding, "during that time I've taken then down the past Victorian border toward Cann River and back".
Needing to remain with the mob at all times, Fraser's life is a lonely one.
"It's just me, my horses, dogs and the cattle," he says.
"Apart from the odd bloke like you who pulls up for a yarn."
Of a night, exhausted after a long day in the saddle, Fraser explains he bunks down in an old caravan he drives ahead each morning to the next overnight camp. While it might sound like a "romantic" lifestyle to some, Fraser disagrees.
"I have a bite to eat after sunset, check one last time on the cattle, listen to the radio for a bit, then I hit the hay," he says nonchalantly waving away another annoying fly.
Apart from freak storms, Fraser explains he also has to deal with other hazards like "the stench of roadkill carcasses and snakes lurking in long grass," and arguably the biggest threat to his cattle's safety "bad car drivers".
"Some [drivers] don't slow down enough," grumbles Fraser, adding "once you pass a 'Stock on Road' sign it's the cattle which actually have right-of-way, and you need to treat them like pedestrians."
"If a car hits one [a cow], the driver is at fault," explains Fraser, who, while he hasn't lost any cattle on this drive, unfortunately had "one of his dogs clipped by a car a few weeks back."
Fraser will be working the long paddock of the Monaro for another month or so, so if you are heading down the far south coast via Cooma for some pre-Christmas salt water therapy, keep an eye out his roadside mob. But don't forget, if you see the "Stock on the Road" warning signs, slow down, it'll only set you back a couple of minutes and is a unique part of travelling through rural Australia.
Oh, and if you want to discover more about the life of a modern-day drover, stop and have a yarn with Fraser — he might seem a bit stand-offish at first, but you would too if you spent half the year with your horse, a mob of cattle and two scruffy dogs as your only company.
Fact File
The long paddock: Although Fraser's mob is the first grazing the Long Paddock of the Monaro in 10 years, property owners regularly graze their cattle on the roadside immediately adjacent to their property.
Travelling Stock Reserves: Cattle aren't allowed to be on the road at night so are mustered into Travelling Stock Reserves, parcels of Crown land reserved under legislation for use by travelling stock of which there are over 140 on the Monaro, prior to dusk.
Did You Know? In 1881, Nat Buchanan, regarded by many as the greatest drover of all, took 20 000 cattle from St George in southern Queensland to the Daly River, not far south of Darwin, a distance of 3200km. I wonder how many hail storms he had to endure.
Fishy Business
You know you've made it when you have a gold fish named after you. Well at least that's what your akubra-clad columnist is telling himself after discovering that Margaret O'Callaghan of Fisher (no pun intended) has nick-named one of the largest gold fish swimming around in her backyard pool as "Yowie Tim".
When O'Callaghan's innovative pond featured in this column several weeks ago (Against the Stream, 28 October, it came with a plea from O'Callaghan for any other Canberrans who had taken the plunge and also permanently converted their pool to a pond to make contact with her.
"As a result of several people contacting me, we've each been able to learn from each other, such as how long to leave the filter on and what water plants to add to the pool," O'Callaghan says, adding, "and as a 'thank you' I thought it fitting that my biggest and boldest fish be named in your column's honour".
Aw shucks. What an accolade indeed. I'd have to say it's up there with the day someone bestowed a dishevelled-looking sheep at the Booligal Sheep Races with this column's name. The poor bleater ran last and ended up as roast lamb. I just hope "Yowie Tim" doesn't succumb to a similar fate by being gobbled up by hungry cormorants, which regularly raid O'Callaghan's pond.
In fact, another Canberra pool-to-pond converter, Denise Stephenson of Latham, believes the best way to stop the birds from eating the fish is to cover the pool in shade cloth and encourage as much plant growth as possible.
"For the plants, I used old tables to sit the pots on in the water," Stephenson says, adding "in all I think we potted up about 50, mainly beautiful blue Japanese water iris and water lillies, which have all been growing successfully."
Stephenson's pond, which she converted from a pool two years ago when "maintenance become too much effort", has been attracting all sorts of creatures including, "an unwelcome guest".
"Last summer, a two metre-long brown snake swam all around the pool, head held high, and slithered very gracefully out of the pool onto the deck, where it then lay in the sun for almost an hour," Stephenson says.
WHERE IN CANBERRA?
Clue: Not as industrial as it looks.
Degree of difficulty: Easy.
Last week: Congratulations to Peter Semczuk of Florey who correctly identified last week's photo as the pumping station alongside the Main Southern Railway Line on Lerida Creek near its confluence with the Lachlan River (sometimes called the Fish River at this location) on the Cullerin Road between Gunning and Breadalbane.
Semczuk beat a number of readers to the prize including Daniel Palmer of Goulburn and Ben Kruger of Currawang. Gary Poile of Collector reports, "during the steam era the trains topped up with water from the Fish River before steaming over the Cullerin Range, the highest point on the Southern Line," adding "it had two electric powered pumps that pumped water from the river to big tanks further up the hill."
How to enter: Email your guess along with your name and address to timtheyowieman@bigpond.com. The first email sent after 10am, Saturday, December 2, 2017 will win a double pass to Dendy.
CONTACT TIM: Email: timtheyowieman@bigpond.com or Twitter: @TimYowie or write c/- The Canberra Times, 9 Pirie St, Fyshwick. You can see a selection of past columns online.