Well, here I sit on the Westerner, the same train that delivered me to the Outback three months ago. Thinking of everything I’ve seen and experienced since then literally boggles my mind. And, at the risk of sounding like a sentimental sook (which you all know that I am), I am crying tears with each kilometer this train puts between me and the Outback. Man I don’t want to leave. I am going to miss Tanbar so much. It’s a tough life in many ways – the average working day is about 10 hours, the work can be dangerous (I had to scramble up the fence three times last time we worked in the yards to avoid being run over by an angry bullock…and I saw dear Uncle Steve almost get his hand cut off by a bobcat) and there isn’t much time to yourself – especially if you have to work through the weekends. But the people become like your family, and there is something to be said for making a life off the land, completely relying on the resources on the station, not needing anything but your able body and a willing mind to make it happen. (Well…of course if the mail truck was late with the grog or cigarettes delivery, there was certainly some strife…but still :) )
Things continued as usual at Tanbar since the last time I wrote…some days I graduated to jobs 
such as taking the four wheeler out to help muster horses, working the concrete mixer, sledge hammering metal poles for welding (ooh that one felt good!) helping Cecil dig holes with the bobcat…I even learned how to use a drop saw (thank you Nikki!). On other days however I was left to staring at everyone operate tools and carry on processes that I understood not a lick, but tried to learn as fast as possible. Though I miss Tanbar terribly, one thing I will NOT miss is feeling like a complete dumbass several times a day! If the only jobs necessary were things that I didn’t know how to do, I would often end up standing and staring while people worked – praying that I could be useful, hold a tool, hold a measuring tape, do SOMETHING besides stand there waiting for grass to grow. But my comrades were good – they’ve been doing this since they were young lads and lasses, and I’ve…never. So they would help me out. Also, there were often communication barriers. God bless the staff at Tanbar; I know some days they must have thought I was completely crazy, but so often their lingo or terms would just not translate correctly to my brain! One classic example: We had finished drafting bullocks at Gillpippie, and it was time to count them…meaning that we had to push the herd of about 800 through a gate while our manager sits on the fence to count them as they pass by. You try to push them through steadily, obviously, so that he can get a correct count. Before we start, our manager Peter says “Nancy, be prepared to come back…because they’re gonna come and they’re gonna come hard.” Now, to myself I think “Right. So if they start to charge at me too strong, just back up.” So boy oh boy here they come, they start charging for the gate (these bullocks were especially cranky that day) and remembering Peter’s wise words, I start to back up as the stampede quickens. Over the noise of pounding hooves I hear “GIRL! NANCY! LISTEN TO WHAT I TELL YOU GET 
BACK TO THE F*CKIN GATE!!” Crap. I should have known that by “come back” he did not mean save yourself from stampeding cattle, but to come back to the gate and steady the cattle so that they wouldn’t hit the fence, bruise their hips and therefore damage the meat. And you know, fair enough – there’s a lot of money running through that gate and this is our job.
such as taking the four wheeler out to help muster horses, working the concrete mixer, sledge hammering metal poles for welding (ooh that one felt good!) helping Cecil dig holes with the bobcat…I even learned how to use a drop saw (thank you Nikki!). On other days however I was left to staring at everyone operate tools and carry on processes that I understood not a lick, but tried to learn as fast as possible. Though I miss Tanbar terribly, one thing I will NOT miss is feeling like a complete dumbass several times a day! If the only jobs necessary were things that I didn’t know how to do, I would often end up standing and staring while people worked – praying that I could be useful, hold a tool, hold a measuring tape, do SOMETHING besides stand there waiting for grass to grow. But my comrades were good – they’ve been doing this since they were young lads and lasses, and I’ve…never. So they would help me out. Also, there were often communication barriers. God bless the staff at Tanbar; I know some days they must have thought I was completely crazy, but so often their lingo or terms would just not translate correctly to my brain! One classic example: We had finished drafting bullocks at Gillpippie, and it was time to count them…meaning that we had to push the herd of about 800 through a gate while our manager sits on the fence to count them as they pass by. You try to push them through steadily, obviously, so that he can get a correct count. Before we start, our manager Peter says “Nancy, be prepared to come back…because they’re gonna come and they’re gonna come hard.” Now, to myself I think “Right. So if they start to charge at me too strong, just back up.” So boy oh boy here they come, they start charging for the gate (these bullocks were especially cranky that day) and remembering Peter’s wise words, I start to back up as the stampede quickens. Over the noise of pounding hooves I hear “GIRL! NANCY! LISTEN TO WHAT I TELL YOU GET 
BACK TO THE F*CKIN GATE!!” Crap. I should have known that by “come back” he did not mean save yourself from stampeding cattle, but to come back to the gate and steady the cattle so that they wouldn’t hit the fence, bruise their hips and therefore damage the meat. And you know, fair enough – there’s a lot of money running through that gate and this is our job. The worst, or best example of this communication barrier, depending on how you look at it – was on my last day. Here it’s my last day of work, we’re finishing up an 80K walk with these same darling bullocks…it’s been raining, people are a little tired and stressed…and again, it’s my last day, I wanted to make it a great one. Well, things sort of turned into a general mess as we pushed them through one of the gates onto the Tanbar homestead, and after about 10 minutes of trying to herd the cattle straight and them running in wild scared circles, we had them held up and stable in a corner of the fence line. We let them breathe for a second to calm down, and then Peter calls “Nancy, just go poke along that fence line and lead them off!” Now, please, imagine this. The entire staff, all my fellow ringers in Toyotas and on horseback are watching in silen
ce. Even the awesome Danielle and Kim and our pilot Justin are watching from the porch of the house…man gosh almighty I felt all eyes on me as I started toward that fence line…and from what Peter said, I think “okay they’re jammed in there, he wants to me to walk along that fence line and push them off the fence a little bit…” I get there, turn to look at them, and Carl our fabulous head stockman gives me a thumbs up. HOORAY I’M NOT MUCKING IT UP! I think. Well. He gave me the thumbs up because what they wanted me to do was start walking down the fence away from the cattle, so that they would see me and follow…hence “lead them off”. Yep I heard some cussing as I started walking the opposite direction down the fence and pushing them off the fence line. Talk about Bridget Jones does the Outback! But, we got her done, and at the end of the day, that’s all that mattered. Peter and I had a chuckle about that as he drove me off the station…he’s been managing stations in the Windorah area since he was a kid, and has seen it all. He told me I was better than 50% of the backpackers they’ve had. I have never felt so honored and proud to be in the top 50 percentile of ANYTHING!
ce. Even the awesome Danielle and Kim and our pilot Justin are watching from the porch of the house…man gosh almighty I felt all eyes on me as I started toward that fence line…and from what Peter said, I think “okay they’re jammed in there, he wants to me to walk along that fence line and push them off the fence a little bit…” I get there, turn to look at them, and Carl our fabulous head stockman gives me a thumbs up. HOORAY I’M NOT MUCKING IT UP! I think. Well. He gave me the thumbs up because what they wanted me to do was start walking down the fence away from the cattle, so that they would see me and follow…hence “lead them off”. Yep I heard some cussing as I started walking the opposite direction down the fence and pushing them off the fence line. Talk about Bridget Jones does the Outback! But, we got her done, and at the end of the day, that’s all that mattered. Peter and I had a chuckle about that as he drove me off the station…he’s been managing stations in the Windorah area since he was a kid, and has seen it all. He told me I was better than 50% of the backpackers they’ve had. I have never felt so honored and proud to be in the top 50 percentile of ANYTHING!I will miss waking up every morning and seeing everyone for breaky before the sun comes up. I will miss working hard with them and then yearning for the Smokco or lunch bell to ring and all heading over to the kitchen together. I will miss the sweet, sweet feeling of cracking that rum can at 5:00 in the rec club when we’ve all knocked off and it’s time to come relax together. I mentioned last time that rec club at 5:00 is absolutely required. I reckon it’s a great idea; no matter what has happened during the day, whether it was a gorgeous perfectly run day or some stress or tension occurred, rec club is the time when you come together, leave it behind, have a drink, and relax. And let me tell you WHEW that rum and cola can tastes so sweet when you’ve been working and sweating in the hot sun all day long! A word on this rum and cola can situation…most of you know that I don’t drink sof
t drinks, and before now, it has literally been years since I had a coke. Well, all they have at the station is beer (hello gluten) and rum and coke cans…so…it is my new vice. Bundaberg rum is all they have out here, made just down the road (a couple hundred kilometers worth) in…well, Bundaberg. It gets a bad rap, and I don’t know why because after six weeks of drinking it MAN I am hooked. I might have just traded my wine habit for a Bundy can habit. I wonder if they ship in bulk to the states? :)I will miss the people terribly. Danielle, Peter’s wife, is about the toughest and coolest lady I’ve ever met – a real outback lady who doesn’t take shit from anyone and who will do just about anything for you if you need it. I will miss Kim and her animals. Kim is our cook and my roommate, and has a crazy passion for animals that I totally identify with…but she carries it to a level I am not cool enough to get to. She currently has pelican eggs in the house she is attempting 
to hatch, a centipede in the refrigerator that is about to be framed, a mini pony named Bobo who has every purple accessory imaginable, a guinea pig name Ver (she used to have another one named “Ro”, hence “Ro-Ver” but I believe it got eaten) and a sweet dog named flea. Coming home was always exciting to see what new critter was where. I will miss Nikki, our awesome head stockman’s fiancée (and I’ll miss you too Carl!!) who turned somewhat into my Tanbar translator, as she was the only one I could really hear and understand. God bless Nikki for putting up with my questions and panicked looks of “WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO!!!” Nik, I’m telling ya – you gotta come visit me some day in my world. :) I’m going to miss everyone. I could go on and on but honestly my computer is running out of batteries and it is just making me too darn sad!
to hatch, a centipede in the refrigerator that is about to be framed, a mini pony named Bobo who has every purple accessory imaginable, a guinea pig name Ver (she used to have another one named “Ro”, hence “Ro-Ver” but I believe it got eaten) and a sweet dog named flea. Coming home was always exciting to see what new critter was where. I will miss Nikki, our awesome head stockman’s fiancée (and I’ll miss you too Carl!!) who turned somewhat into my Tanbar translator, as she was the only one I could really hear and understand. God bless Nikki for putting up with my questions and panicked looks of “WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO!!!” Nik, I’m telling ya – you gotta come visit me some day in my world. :) I’m going to miss everyone. I could go on and on but honestly my computer is running out of batteries and it is just making me too darn sad! One thing I know for sure after leaving Tanbar is that I want to do something like this for the rest of my life. I am over the city. I know I’m supposed to be in the country – tell you what, I would like to stay in the Outback, and I’m not quite sure how that is going to happen yet – I’m working on it. But it’s really interesting to feel this change in me. I think it’s been a long time coming.
Saying goodbye to everyone was very hard. It was a great ride with Peter out to the main road, and I was truly sad to shake his hand goodbye knowing I will more than likely never see him again.
The light at the end of this sappy sad tunnel? TRUDY! Trudy and darling Bec came to pick me up at the main road. HOLY GEEZ it was so good to see them after six weeks! It felt like it had only been a day, yet a year. We giggled and jabbered all the way into town, and promptly got changed and headed down to Cooper’s Creek for fishing. There were about 15 of us in all with the kids, husbands, and friends, and we caught about 30 catfish and couple of yellow bellies, and cooked them up right there…MMMMM MMMM my mouth is watering just thinking of it! Trudy’s son Brogan also caught a GIANT Goanna (see picture) and let me have a moment with it…I’m telling you Brogan is the next Steve Irwin. He’s always catching some sort of critter. The next day I caught a ride to Quilpie with Ray’s grandson, Jack. (Remember Ray, the delivery man whom I rode to Windorah with all those weeks ago? ) Ray and his wife were on vacation, but told their grandson to pick me up…he said they also wanted me to stay in their house since they were out of town. This is a classic example of the incredible warmth and generosity of the people out here. I am going to miss them all so much. I spent the next two days hanging out at the pub with Jack and his buddies, just waiting for this train to arrive. The Melbourne Cup was Wednesday, which is like the Australian Kentucky Derby…a horse named Americaan ran, and I remember thinking hmmm maybe I should just put some money on that bad boy…but didn’t, thinking I was being responsible. Well of course Americaan won, and Ray called Jack to let him know they had bet on him for me and won HUNDREDS OF DOLLARS! By George next time I’m betting! The Quilpie pub also got a new internet juke box…and I finally got the dance party I’ve been trying to have at Tanbar. Those pub kids quite liked A Tribe Called Quest, if I do say so myself. Sheri, I shook my tail feather for you on that one. :)
I am so profoundly grateful for my three months in the Outback. I worked at a crazy pub…met some of the most interesting and amazing people…made some life long friends…camped under the stars…got my heart broken…mustered cattle…and changed from the inside out. All in all, a glorious dose of life, and I am grateful for every single drop of it. Well, it’s time to rap this up, I’m falling asleep and not sure if it has made much sense thus far. I realized last time that I forgot to put “Aussie isms” at the end…so here you go. Please, if you are easily offended, or are not yet a mature audience, do not read further. As you should have gathered, it’s a bit rougher out here, and so is the language…I myself have acquired a bit of a potty mouth, in case you haven’t noticed yet. But I’m including it anyway, because darling friends and family this is where I’ve been the past 3 months.
1. Too easy. – “coming right up!” If someone asks you to do a job or task, whether it’s hammering a nail or finding the holy grail of cattle, you better respond with “too easy”…just to show that you’re ready and willing, and nothing could phase the rock star that you are.
2. F*CKIN OATH! - “That’s the truth!” For example, if someone were to say “Damn that Americaan ran a good race…” you would respond “FUCKIN OATH he did!”
3. F*ck me dead! – “I can’t believe it!” or “You’ve got to be kidding me!” I’ll leave that one right there.
4. I can’t even bring myself to spell this one…so I’ll do it the way Cecil explained to me after I was cringing every time I heard it. Caring Understanding Nice Talk. If you get my drift. Funny thing is, EVERYTHING is the C word. A bullock not cooperating is a C_ _T, and the salt you need passed down the table is a C_ _T. It’s just a word. I think.
2. F*CKIN OATH! - “That’s the truth!” For example, if someone were to say “Damn that Americaan ran a good race…” you would respond “FUCKIN OATH he did!”
3. F*ck me dead! – “I can’t believe it!” or “You’ve got to be kidding me!” I’ll leave that one right there.
4. I can’t even bring myself to spell this one…so I’ll do it the way Cecil explained to me after I was cringing every time I heard it. Caring Understanding Nice Talk. If you get my drift. Funny thing is, EVERYTHING is the C word. A bullock not cooperating is a C_ _T, and the salt you need passed down the table is a C_ _T. It’s just a word. I think.
And with that, I’ll leave you. I love you all – will write to you next time from the land of Kiwis and Hobbits. That is, if I can get the Outback out of my heart and mind enough to focus on it.
:)
Nancy
