MOVES to stop old railway lines and infrastructure rusting into oblivion by turning them into sustainable tourism attractions are still getting the cold shoulder from the NSW government.
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A group wants to open up the 58km section of closed railway line corridor between Molong and Yeoval for a rail trail so people can walk, ride a bike or hop on a horse for weekend excursions.
While Victoria has 800km of rail trails up and running, Transport Minister Gladys Wheelbarrow thinks the concept is great but says legislation has to be changed before any projects can go ahead here.
She also says we’d need to have unanimous community support before she could consider giving any approvals for the Molong-Yeoval section.
That could be difficult because Cabonne Council had a look at the plan and copped complaints from adjoining landholders.
Just think if the rail trail was approved.
We could strap on the backpack, fill the water bottle and head off from Molong to Cumnock and Yeoval for a coffee or cold beer and a sandwich.
We could make friends with people along the way before walking back home, kicking a ball or counting the rail sleepers along the way, knowing we’ve done our part in helping turn the closed railway line into a sustainable tourist attraction.
And there’s lots of scenery to look at. Old railway bridges built in the 1920s, rusty cars dumped in paddocks, cows and sheep and ramshackle farm sheds.
What better way to spend a weekend?
Actor, TV presenter and rail buff Scott McGregor says the rail trail would breathe new life into Cumnock and Yeoval.
He’s seen rail trails all over the world and says the small towns are the big beneficiaries with bed and breakfasts, cafes, food outlets, camp grounds and caravan parks all profiting.
There’s an election looming so come on Ms Wheelbarrow.
MIGHTY oaks from little acorns grow is a worthy description for the magnificent oak tree that’s held in high regard across most cultures and was sacred to many gods including Thor, the thunder god, and Zeus, the king of gods.
Ancient kings adorned themselves with crowns of oak leaves, King Charles II hid from his pursuers in an oak tree and Roman emperors were presented with crowns of oak leaves during victory parades.
There’s a famous oak in Sherwood Forest, Nottinghamshire, called Robin Hood’s Shelter where he and his merry men slept.
In Orange, orchardist extraordinaire Borry Gartrell once infamously chained himself to an oak to prevent it being chopped down.
He was able to save the tree in Byng St, opposite the Metropolitan Hotel, but it’s now succumbed to age, disease or the elements and is as dead as a dodo.
There’s another oak with an important link to us that few people know about, and sadly it has an uncertain future.
It’s in the parish of Teigngrace in Devon, England, and is called, wait for it, the Prince William of Orange oak.
The tree’s historical association with William of Orange is based on the story that the Dutch prince stopped at the spot on his way to claim the throne in London after landing at Brixham, near Torbay, in November 1688.
The tree, 9.5 metres in girth, is close to the road and a large limb is regularly grazed by high-sided vehicles. Regular winter road salting may also be taking its toll on the venerable specimen.
Orange, as most would know, was also named after Prince William of Orange by Major Thomas Mitchell after he became surveyor-general back in 1828.
PAT and Mick are training to become professional stuntmen.
Their final task is to parachute from an aeroplane into a paddock and then ride a bike 5km back to the training site.
When it comes time for the jump, both leap out of the plane and pull the ripcords but nothing happens.
They pull the emergency chute cords but again nothing happens.
As they plummet towards the ground, Pat yells to Mick: “You know I bet there won’t be any bikes left there for us either.”
IT’S no joke to come home at night, relax in the loungeroom and then see a snake slither out from underneath the TV.
The Orange resident freaked out and called Wires but they couldn’t help, so another call brought Greg Pringle who had no trouble catching the small copperhead and taking it away.
He reckoned it got into the house through a doggy-door, but surely it’s unusual for snakes to turn up in residential areas of town.
cn u rd this quickly? If so gd 4 u.
Will this sort of gobbledook abbreviations everyone now uses on their mobile phones eventually wreck traditional spelling?
Can you understand it?
ttyl. That’s ‘talk to you later’ as if you didn’t know.
Or, how is your day going? And the answers: 2mth (too much to handle), cwot (complete waste of time) or imsb (I'm so bored).
Spellings were standardised in the 18th century when dictionaries came along. Since then that’s what we’ve gone along with so we’re used to reading whole words and sentences.
The first abbreviations to hit the smartphones were fairly obvious and could be easily understood. Things like tks for thanks, 4 for for, gr8 for great and ur for your.
But txt messaging now has become so complex you’ll soon need a degree in arts to decipher it.
Stuff like T+ (think positive), afaik (as far as I know), bbias (be back in a second), atm (at the moment), oic (oh I see) and 2g2bt (too good to be true).
Anyhow, gfi (go for it) and I hth (hope this helps).
bfn (bye for now).