Today, I headed out to find an artistic attraction – the Utes in the Paddock.

It’s exactly what it says – a bunch of old utes in a paddock that have been turned into works of art.  But to get there, I had go through a town with an interesting name:

Yes, I kid you not – there’s actually a town called Bogan Gate.  Here’s another sign:

As you might have guessed from the population number up there, there’s not much to it.  There are some silos:

And a few houses:

But only a few streets’ worth.  This is the main road through the town:

This clock is actually a war memorial:

‘Bogan Gate’ is supposed to be derived from an Aboriginal word meaning ‘the birthplace of a notable headman of the local tribe’.  No one is quite sure where the modern, negative connotation of ‘bogan’ came from, so it’s destined to remain a mystery for the ages.  But I admit that’s the only reason I made such a fuss over this little town – the name is just so funny!

I’ve seen some other funny names on the way, mostly of little roads branching off other little roads, with names like Mousehole, Peabody, and Frog Rock.  Roads often have funny names, but it’s unusual for an entire town to have a funny name.

There were signposts directing me to the utes, which were a few kilometres along a dirt road.  I passed a paddock of very happy sheep along the way:

They’re all rams, so they’re probably stuck in a small paddock together and ended up exhausting the grass, but they were very enthusiastic about the hay.  Enough for some of them to climb on top of it.

The utes:

This was actually inspired by a similar thing in America – the Cadillac Ranch.  The owners of this property saw it, and wondered if people would come to see something similar on their property.  And they were right – people will do a lot to see bizarre attraction like this, often just because it is bizarre.  We’re weird like that.

This is ‘Simple Pleasures’, by Leo Robba:

Apparently, it was inspired by the scenery of the Lachlan Valley.  This one is ‘Supplementary Feeder’, by Bill O’Shea:

And that’s exactly what this ute did, before it was painted – delivered extra feed during drought.

A close-up of the windscreen:

And the stockman:

It seems vaguely unsettling to see windscreens painted over, even if you know no one’s going to be driving it.

The Wiradjuri ‘Uth’ story, painted by the Condobolin Youth Services:

White represents the rivers, and the ‘U’ shapes show where people gather around campfires – it’s supposed to represent the markings made in the dirt when sitting cross-legged.

‘Ute of Arms’, by Brad Brown and Scott Edwards:

Just as it says, the Australia coat of arms with a Holden ute bent to it.  I always thought it was interesting that they chose the kangaroo and the emu because they can’t go backwards, and it was supposed to represent Australia always going forwards.  Of course, in the wild, kangaroos and emus just turn themselves around if they need to retrace their steps, but it’s the imagery of the thing, I guess.

‘Golden Valley’, by Greg Brennan:

A montage of agriculture.  I took some close-ups:

‘Clean Running Backed by Ned’, by Paul Blahuta:

Some close-ups:

I admit I’ve never really understood the fascination with Ned Kelly, but you can’t deny he’s an Australian icon.

‘Central West Medley’, by Eris Flenning:

The writing on the side says, ‘Girls are made to love and kiss, but not to understand’.

‘Clancy Stops the Overflow’, by Peter Mortimore:

Very Australian, but not aggressively so.  I do like the way they’ve turned the ute into a bottle of Bundaberg rum.  I took some close-ups:

‘The Stockman’, by Michael Jones:

A tribute to the Aboriginal stockmen.

‘Emute’, by Peter Browne:

I think we all know what this is a tribute to.  Emus are just as iconic as kangaroos, but much rarer (probably because they can’t reproduce at the rate kangaroos manage).  I took a close-up of the rear window – it had echidnas painted on it:

‘Epitaph to Fossil Fuels’, by Shane Gehlert:

I can honestly say I would have no idea what this is about without the title.  But I like it.

‘Circle Work’, by John Murray:

These are young galahs doing ‘circle work’ (doing donuts), and the sculpted galah on the top represents the fun police towing away the ute, though it’s seen better days:

The galahs painted on the side:

‘Drizakubra’, by Belinda Williams:

Honouring the Driza-Bone coat and Akubra hats that are the traditional outback garb.  They even have the name on the back of the coat:

Though the way it’s painted on the ute makes it look like the guy’s butt is sticking out:

If that doesn’t work out, he has great potential as a burlesque dancer.

‘Ute-opia’, by Stephan Coburn:

A tribute to Australian wildlife.  Have some close-ups:

You can even see little faces in the holes in the body.

‘Dame Edna’s Looute’, by Karen Tooth:

I like the brick steps – they really add to it.  This is what she’s reading:

‘TribeUte’, by Lewis Burns:

More Aboriginal art.  I mentioned earlier that the U-shape denotes people sitting down – this is a man and woman around a campfire:

The man is identified by the boomerang and spear beside him, while the woman is identified by the Coolamon (bark or wooden dish) and Gunny (a digging stick).

The Southern Cross and the corroboree:

‘UteZilla’, by Jim Moginie and Stephen Coburn:

A tribute to kangaroos, and their awesome reproductive powers.  Kangaroo females are almost always pregnant, and will have a joey in their pouch and one at their heel at the same time.  They even produce two different kinds of milk simultaneously for the newborn and older joey.  There’s a reason why they’re everywhere.

‘Go Vegemite’, by Rob Keen:

We all know the stereotype of Vegemite sandwiches, and here’s a jar of Vegemite enshrined on a pillar in the outback.  These next two didn’t have any informative signs, or at least none that I found:

There were some birds around, and I spotted a red-rumped parrot:

It didn’t look at me, though – very rude!

There were also some yellow-rumped thornbills, and I filmed this one perched on a barbed-wired fence.  Very ‘outback’, I thought:

 

Or so I’m telling myself.  I also found some kind of scrubwren (my Google-fu has deserted me for this one, so I’m not completely sure what kind it is), eating the remains of a grasshopper:

 

You go, little bird, gobble that locust!

There were tyre tracks in the dirt, so I clearly wasn’t the only visitor recently, and I took a photo of this one:

I’m not being a forensic guy here – there was no crime committed – I just found in interesting the way only the top layer was cracked.  It looks like icing on a really old cake.

Then I went up to Trundle (again, not kidding with the name), to see one of the widest main streets in the country.  Have a look:

This one looking across at the Trundle Hotel also helps:

The main street is 60 metres wide, and was built this way to accommodate turning bullock trains.  What it has now is two lanes of the road, then each side has:

A one-way single lane that seems to be used to sidle up to the parking lane

The parking lane, often interspersed with trees

Another one-way single lane

 

That’s on each side, remember, so there’s six lanes, not counting parking.  With the parking, that takes it up to eight.  It was wide, is what I’m saying.  The Trundle hotel also has the second-longest hotel balcony in NSW, at 86 metres, for what that’s worth:

There were some old buildings around, and I took some photos:

I love the combination of services some places had:

And they had the tiniest petrol station:

I saw this on the side of one of the cars:

It seemed quite deliberate, so I thought I’d show some appreciation – it’s been a day for artwork, after all!

Then it back to Turtle Shell!  I ended up having a conversation and nightcap with Michael, a fifty-something tradie who has a tray topper he made himself, on the lot down the hill.  I also helped him install a TV aerial (basically just holding stuff in place for him) and got paid in chocolate, so that was nice.