Sunday Driving

I was telling my husband on the way for our Sunday drive that I would have pulled my hair out from the roots with frustration if I was made to do this when I was younger.  Now a Sunday drive is something I want to do, and I wonder if it’s because I am officially Old. 

Here on the river, we use a number of locks that regulate the flow of the water.  Our poor old river system is managed (some would say mismanaged) to within an inch of its life, and seemingly every litre is spoken for.  The river is meant to flood and dry through its seasons, but this would spell disaster for those growers dependent on it, so they put the locks in so that this would never happen.  Whole different story as to whether this is bad or good, and I won’t go down that particular rabbit hole today.

From time to time (very rarely) they drain the locks for maintenance, and we have a friend who is a manager for the company that runs them, who invited us for a special look. 

Here we are in the bottom of the lock.  That big red wall is the only thing holding back massive amounts of water.  I must confess to having a minor panic attack there, but I soon got over it (kinda).  The top grey line on the right wall that runs almost parallel to the red wall is the water line on that side of the river.

The bottom of the grey block, the line about mid line through the cement block is the river level on the other side of the lock.  They literally hold back all the water on the one side so that the other side is lower.

It really is an amazing feat of engineering, I must tell you.  Despite whether you feel locks have a place in the river or not, the amount of work to get them in there is huge. 

There was abundant wildlife, and they are trying hard to make them a nicer place to visit, with seating areas, public toilets and even some artwork.

We went out after our visit and had lunch at a very old pub here in SA – The Overland Corner Hotel.  It was built as a halfway horse change destination when the coach was the only method of transport (apart from the riverboats, of course).  It’s said to be haunted.

My photos don’t do it justice, there’s lots of peripheral modern day stuff there that got in the way, but I encourage you to check out their website.  It lies on or near to Cobdogla Station, another historical place that my great grandfather worked on back in the day.  At least we think he did.

And that was my lovely Sunday.  I now need to pull my act into gear and get my chores done, because the week starts again tomorrow!