Reserved for recreation

Hard yakka: Clearing the Dorrigo brush was back-breaking work for the early selectors. The establishment of the Dorrigo Reserves, now National Park, helped preserve some of the original landscape. This is the first in a short series on the early days of the Dorrigo National Park

The Dorrigo National Park is rightly seen as one of the small jewels in New England’s crown. I wonder how many know its story or indeed that of the New England National Park, the third oldest in NSW.

According to Howard directed Stanley’s History of the Dorrigo National Park, our story begins on 29 March 1900 when Edward Ebsworth, the District Surveyor at Grafton, directed surveyor H A Evans to determine the position of two waterfalls (now the Sherrard and Newell Falls) near the road.

  

The Dorrigo Plateau was then being cleared and developed for settlement, creating the cultural landscape we know today. Evans was to “measure an area surrounding each waterfall sufficient to protect it with a view to its reservation from sale.”

Evans reported from his camp on 31 August 1900. He recommended reservation of two areas totaling around 8.1 hectares.

This would give ample room for “sight seers and others to ramble about on these areas and enjoy the scenery of the waterfalls, the pretty pieces of brush and bush and the landscape and seascape generally”.

Ebsworth successfully recommended to his Minister that Evan’s proposal be approved, On 19 February 1901, the Government Gazette carried a notice under Section 101 of the Crowns Land Act 1884 reserving the two areas for Public Recreation and the preservation of native flora.

The two areas might have been of sufficient size to allow visitors to ramble (or scramble!) around, but did little for the protection of native flora. However, in July 1917, a much larger area of 1,659 hectares on the Dorrigo Mountain was explicitly reserved for the preservation of native flora.

I haven’t properly researched the general history of either public spaces or national parks. However, a few general points are worth noting because they set a context for our story.

The idea of reservation of land for parks or other public purposes such as commons was well established. The idea that ordinary citizens should have access for recreation, enjoyment and access to nature to the equivalent of the parks established and enjoyed by aristocrats became well established during the 19th century. 

In Sydney, both the Royal National Park (1879) and Ku-ring-gai Chase (1894) were explicitly intended for public recreation.

The idea of preservation of flora and fauna had also become well established, if sometimes in the breach.

We can see all these elements in the initial establishment of the Dorrigo Reserves. However, the administrative and funding arrangements for the Reserves left much to be desired,

Note to readers: This post appeared as a column in the Armidale Express Extra on 27 November 2019. I am repeating the columns here with a lag because they are not all on line outside subscription. You can see all the Belshaw World and History Revisited/History Matters columns by clicking here for 2009, here for 2010, here for 2011, here for 2012, here for 2013, here for 2014, here for 2015,  here for 2016, here  2017, here 2018, here 2019  

From picnics to barbecues

 Large group picnic: With limited entertainment options, picnics were central to Australian life.

Growing up in Armidale during the 1950s, picnics were an essential feature of life. They could be family picnics held at a particular location such as the Gwydir River or a group activity such as Sunday School picnics.

The word picnic first appeared in the English language in 1748, drawn from the French pique-nique. The practice seems to have been first adopted by the upper classes who saw it as an elegant meal eaten outdoors. However, it spread into other areas of society as more leisure time became available.

I am not sure when the term was first used in colonial Australia, that is something I have to find out, but references to picnics occur quite early.

Entertainment in colonial society was largely self-made. The picnic provided an opportunity for family or group to move away from the daily round into a new space.

In Europe, the development of parks and the opening of estates to the public created the opportunity to experience not just the joy that comes from gatherings, but also the opportunity to see new areas, beautiful gardens and grounds.

In Australia the landscape, was rawer, less cultivated. Some of the early photographs show people picnicking amongst tree stumps!

Better transport including the railways encouraged the picnic habit. Railways, country and city, allowed people to travel on day excursions. With the car, life became easier because you could place the picnic basket or fruit case (fruit cases were commonly used on the New England after the establishment of orchards) in the boot and go.

Travelling by road, there were very few services stations or service centres of the type we know today. With rougher roads and slower travel times, it became normal practice to have picnic kit in the car and stop for morning tea or lunch, picnicking by the side of the road.

This is harder to do today with bigger roads and smaller verges.

By the 1890s, all the major department stores carried picnic kit including wicker ware picnic baskets and lighter weight cutlery and crockery. The baskets are almost identical to those you can buy today.

Unlike the later BBQ, picnic food was generally cold, although it was not unusual pre the vacuum flask to have a billy to heat the water for tea.

Depending on the money you had, the food and drink could be quite ornate. However, for most it was simpler fare, things that would not easily spoil and could be easily carried.

From the 1950s the BBQ began to supplant the picnic, yet it remains as a constant thread in our history.

Note to readers: This post appeared as a column in the Armidale Express Extra on 2 October 2019. I am repeating the columns here with a lag because they are not all on line outside subscription. You can see all the Belshaw World and History Revisited/History Matters columns by clicking here for 2009, here for 2010, here for 2011, here for 2012, here for 2013, here for 2014, here for 2015,  here for 2016, here  2017, here 2018, here 2019    

Bikes put boys on a road to freedom

Road trip: Boys on an adventure. Setting off for Port Macquarie 1956. This is the second in a two part series. You will find the first here. 

In 1904, the North Coast Steam Navigation Company published its Tourists’ & Settlers Guide to the Northern Coastal River Districts of New South Wales. By then, the Great Northern Railway had attracted most inland traffic, but water travel was still the dominant transport mode along the North Coast and up the coastal rivers.

The Guide is something of a classic period piece, one that tells us much about the detail of Australian life in a particular place at a particular time. It includes hints about cycle tourism.

By 1904, the safety bicycle had become a popular sporting and touring machine, but it was still more the workhorse for many working men in country and city alike. Bicycles were used to get to work, to collect orders and to deliver goods.

By the 1950s, bikes had become the province of young people, boys in particular. Both girls and boys peddled to school, all schools had bike racks, but boys were allowed to roam, girls were restricted.

“I still remember”, Catherine Marker recalls, “learning to ride a bike when I was 7 or 8 with friend Beryl teaching me. However, as a girl I was not allowed to do the fun rides my brothers did”.

Bikes gave boys freedom. They travelled.

John Caling recalls: ‘I used to ride out to my old mate Robin Munsie's place "Strathhaven" on Burying Ground Creek most weekends. When I first started that ride the Grafton road was only sealed as far as Ralph Toombs' property at the edge of Armidale. The rest was gravel and pretty rough in places”.

Dick McDertmott remembers riding to Woolomombi Falls, Dangarsleigh Falls, Gara Gorge, Thunderbolts Rock, the Dangarsleigh War Memorial and Gates, Dumaresq Dam, the Blue Hole, the Pine Forest, Bald Knob and Hillgrove.

Sometimes, Dick and his friends would travel with rabbit traps, slug guns over their shoulders. The skins would go to Thos Green and the meat to the Niagara cafe.

Most trips were day trips, but long trips were a rite of passage for many boys.

 In 1956, fifteen year old Keith Douglas, Ken Sweeney and Richard Hoy set off for Port Macquarie down the then dirt roads. By the end of the first day they were at the bottom of the range. “Not a bad day’s ride”, Keith later commented.  

Four years later, fifteen year Philip Kitley and friend David Belshaw set off to ride to Sawtell, something that Philip recorded in a piece in the Armidalian. They made it in two days.

There wasn’t a lot of money around following the Second World War. Many of our bikes were made from bits and pieces, heavy steel frame bikes, but they were well used.  

Note to readers: This post appeared as a column in the Armidale Express Extra on 26 June 2019. I am repeating the columns here with a lag because they are not all on line outside subscription. You can see all the Belshaw World and History Revisited/History Matters columns by clicking here for 2009, here for 2010, here for 2011, here for 2012, here for 2013, here for 2014, here for 2015,  here for 2016, here  2017, here 2018, here 2019