Tuesday, April 24, 2018

A visit to Gundagai



A visit to Gundagai


We cruised towards Gundagai from the south having passed through the rolling hills and across the beautiful Tumut River at Brungle. Most of the traffic across the Murrumbidgee River now uses the major new Hume Highway crossing, so waiting for alternating one way crossing on part of the old bridge was not unexpected.

The incredible old wooden road bridge across the floodplain to the town is not used any more, so the road drops down to the open grassy paddocks of the floodplain and past its caravan park with its leafy plane trees.

Before reaching town from the south, the sight of the historic road and rail bridges is compelling. Significant constructions made of timber cross the wide flood plain and are built higher than you would imagine necessary. We pulled over to take a picture or two and to admire the old structures built from timber held together with a few bolts. 

And then, out in the paddock, a rarely used track was spotted leading to a large stone cairn. Curiosity called and after bouncing across the paddock we reached this solid memorial. It recorded a story of great sadness.

Early European settlers had not yet come to understand the extremes that can be hidden in the Australian landscape when they first put down their roots. The first township of Gundagai had been built on the flat ground adjacent to the river. This terrace was many metres above the river and would have been regarded as a fine place to build. There had been some reservations about the town site at Gundagai but it ended up where the travellers came to cross the river and that brought commerce.

In 1852 a terrifying flood engulfed the town. Something like a third of the town’s residents were drowned and the town itself was washed away. Subsequently the Government made land available at the site of the current town, and the steep country adjacent to the river flats. I departed feeling a deep sadness but also lucky that we now know that variations in nature can be far wider than our individual experiences and that we need to continue to learn to read the landscape.