Although the roads around Lithgow are often lacking in easy places to stop and devoid of luxurious facilities, there are some intriguing spots along lonely thoroughfares.
The reserve beside the bridge on McKanes Falls Road looks initially to be a haven for weeds. However, there is a pleasant walk through the Casuarinas along the rock pools of the Coxs River not far away. The sub-structure of the bridge itself lives up to the claims made for it by the historic marker.
The truss bridge is a reminder of how stone and timber infrastructure helped the development of New South Wales transport system. This is particularly so in the rugged valley areas of the Greater Blue Mountains.
The plaque beside the bridge reads:
HISTORIC ENGINEERING MARKER
McKanes Bridge, Lithgow,
as a representative of McDonald Truss Road Bridges
In 1884 John A McDonald introduced a new timber truss design. His bridges were a significant technical improvement on earlier designs being stronger, easier to build and maintain and allowing for a future increase in loads. McDonald Truss bridges were significant in the development of the colonial road network. This 1893 bridge was an important transport link within this region and is an excellent example of the 91 built, of which only five remained in 2002.
The Institution of Engineers, Australia and
Roads and Traffic Authority NSW, 2002
In early Spring, a corridor of golden wattle, nectar rich hairpin banksias and fallen gum leaves leads to an overhang. Four full-size “portals” plus “keyholes” create complex plays of sunlight on the earth below the dark sandstone.
A most unusual rock formation. The man who gave instructions for his mortal remains to have this as their final resting place was a most unusual man.
Mark Foy (1865-1950) can be appreciated through the history of buildings he conceived. There was the Hydro. In 1904, Foy amalgamated the Belgravia building and other parts of the old Hargraves holding and nearby buildings into a hot and cold spa resort. After multiple incarnations and hibernations, it’s now a mountains venue known for its warm welcomes.
There was his wife’s half-way house. Mrs Foy found Blue Mountains trains slow, dirty and annoying so her husband built a little place where her coach could lay up overnight on trips from Darling Point to Medlow Bath and she could rest her head. He later sold this Faulconbridge property to Norman Lindsay and now its one of the National Trust’s showpieces.
Finally, there’s the ornate department store building opposite Sydney’s Museum Station. Foy was an honest retailer and the thousands of Sydney-siders entering the building to purchase something important had a fair idea what the charge would be. In 2017, the building is part of the “Downing Centre” complex of NSW courts and most entering still have a good understanding of the charge.
Standing before the bent old Black Ash tree, the orange lichen, the “Old Man’s Beard” plant, the grey flaky-barked tea trees and the geebungs, it’s easy to understand Mark Foy’s love for the hideaway that contrasted to the intensity of his life.
But his family didn’t put him there. Maybe they seized the opportunity to stop doing what he said. One thing we can take from the story of Mark Foy: If you are one of those wise people who want to spend lots of time communing with your favourite piece of Blue Mountains bushland, do it while you’re alive.
Railway history provides a sobering study for those contemplating massive outlays on new transport infrastructure (which seems to be a favourite preoccupation in the current era). It is interesting to reflect on the huge challenge for past governments in bringing some railway services into operation, even those that proved short-lived.
Mount Rae was on the Taralga line, in the hilly tablelands south of the Blue Mountains. This section of line was to provide all-weather access to the then expanding town of Taralga, however it proved so expensive to build that a higher freight charge than applicable to the rest of New South Wales needed to be levied on the line. The first train ran to Mount Rae in 1926 but passenger and freight demand soon declined with only two trains per week running after 1930 and the regular service concluding in 1954. Later the tracks were removed and most of the railway corridor land freeholded.
Bowenfels, on the still operational line from Lithgow to Bathurst, was a serviced station for much longer (1869-1974). To connect it with Sydney, the then Chief Engineer of the NSW Railways, John Whitton, had to complete construction of the Great Zigzag, one of the most significant international engineering achievements up until that time. Until 1874, Bowenfels was the only railway station serving the Lithgow Valley. The now much larger settlement of Lithgow did not exist then. But Bowenfels’ life as the rail head for western NSW was brief. By the time Whitton retired, he had extended this line to Rydal, Bathurst, Dubbo and, finally, Bourke.
Fortunately, the impressive station building and station master’s residence at Bowenfels are still in good condition. The station building has served as Greater Lithgow’s tourist information centre prior to the construction of the intriguing “miner’s lamp” building. Now both the old railway buildings need new incarnations.
These histories of fast-tracked construction and short operational lives leading to substantial obsolescence should be noted by those who would risk the environment and the health of public finances on huge but dubious transport projects such as new motorways and airports.
The acquisition by National Parks and Wildlife Service of private land at Hat Hill Road earlier this year was another small advancement in the sustained campaign by this Society and others to preserve Blue Mountains swamps and make the public more aware of how important they are.
A 2015 chronology on our Society’s website by Lyndal Sullivan with excellent photographs by Dr Ian Baird outlines years of achievements but we still need to take every opportunity to make their role better understood and correct misinformation.
Various kinds of swamps play a role in nearly every part of the Greater Blue Mountains. Hat Hill Road is one of the best places to see them and comprehend their role in our broader ecology. Swamps aid the flourishing of significant species including the endangered Giant Dragonfly and Blue Mountains Water Skink. As our climate becomes more subject to extremes, swamps are valuable storage reservoirs, particularly the hanging swamps found on many slopes above Blue Mountains cliff-lines.
Swamps regularise the flow of streams and waterfalls during cycles of drought and excessive rain. This safeguards tiny ecological systems such as the wet cliff-face plant communities, some of them containing very rare species like the Dwarf Pine which depend on a regular spraying from waterfalls. The temperate rainforest communities in our canyons and valleys also rely on stream-flow being sustained.
Some commentators confuse some of our swamps with monocultures of grassland or the products of long-term indigenous management of the Blue Mountains landscape by fire. The various roles of indigenous people and fire in the mountains has been the subject of a long discussion by writers such as Margaret Baker (Geographical Society of NSW, Conference Papers No 14, 1997), and Andy McQueen (HERITAGE Blue Mountains Assn of Cultural Heritage Organisations, 2013). Indigenous people increased their numbers in high altitudes about 5,000 years ago when their tool technology improved, allowing better use of small mammals including possums and koalas. “Fire stick farming”, a much bandied-about example of indigenous land management, probably belongs to less rugged areas of Australia.
The swamps in the mountains contain diverse flora and fauna. Positive developments like the latest National Park addition must strengthen our resolve to promote their significance.
Sadly, not all visitors are respectful, particularly some with off road vehicles. Implementation of a plan of management is overdue. Thank you to Jim Smith for introducing me to this place.