Ten Tunnel Train Trip

Recently I caught the train from the upper Blue Mountains to Lithgow. In recent years the only time I have taken this journey was when I was on the Indian Pacific. We had crossed the mountains on dusk, which was beautiful, but by the time we began the descent from Mount Victoria to Lithgow, it was dark.

So off I set on a gorgeous winter’s day. It was warm and mild for a change. The train was on time and before long I was settled in a carriage, watching the scenery as the track ran alongside the highway before detouring through patches of the country that you can only see from a train. The views opened up on the approach to Blackheath, with the Megalong Valley spread out on a clear day. Mount Victoria was a major station, and the end of the line for a while until the Lithgow Zig Zag railway was completed.

View over Kanimbla Valley

View over Kanimbla Valley

From Mt Victoria, the train passes through the sidings at Bell and Zig Zag, and a guard needs to be notified if a stop is required at either of these locations. Near the Zig Zag station, there are blackened stumps and trees; a legacy of the 2013 fires.

The descent from Mount Victoria to Lithgow initially comprised of a series of switchbacks to manage the steep grade, and it included three viaducts which can still be glimpsed today. The Zig Zag was replaced in 1910, and the track travels through ten tunnels cut through sandstone. These tunnels vary from 70 metres to 825 metres in length. In addition to making the journey safer, the ten tunnel deviation saved up to thirty minutes on journey times. The gradient was reduced, enabling increased loads on trains. The tunnels are considered to be an engineering achievement and included the deepest cutting on the NSW rail system.

Zig Zag Viaduct

Zig Zag Viaduct

At the entrance of each tunnel, the driver gave a soft toot on the horn. On the return trip, I noticed that each tunnel is numbered in descending order from the Sydney end with a firm directive of ‘WHISTLE’ emblazoned at each entrance. There is something about tunnels; the compression of air, the sudden darkness. I only spotted the occasional blur of white light in a couple of them.

As the train sweeps along from Mount Victoria, there are views over the Hartley Valley. There was some low cloud at one point but it cleared quickly to reveal views of the valley. Bright bursts of wattle livened up the passing scenery, which was a mixture of trees, heath and ferns for most of the trip. Travelling between the ten tunnels there were large sandstone outcrops.

Lithgow Station

Lithgow Station

I had a quick wander around Lithgow before catching the return train back, enjoying the views as the train moved smoothly along the tracks. There is the whisper of metal on steel, interlaced with station announcements.

It was great to be able to enjoy the trip and to be a passenger for a change. It was good to travel to a familiar place but on a different mode of transport.

When was the last time you travelled to a familiar location a different way?

[Photo: Mt Victoria Station]

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Kandos Railway Station

The railway station was the nerve centre of a country town, both exit and entrance, export and import, off to adventure or homeward bound. People came to collect parcels or despatch goods, meet friends and relations or say goodbye, go on holiday or leave for school, enjoy the hubbub or look at the train. For trains, like brass bands, with their power and rhythm, touch a warm collective memory.

Colleen O’Sullivan, Discover Magazine, Nov 2017

I came across the above description of a country railway station in a small article in a local tourist magazine for the Blue Mountains and Central West of NSW. Like many small stations, Kandos has not been in use for passenger services for a long time, but there has been a spate of activity in the last year or so.

The station was opened as Candos Station in 1914; it was renamed Kandos the following year. Candos is believed to have been made using the initials of the first six directors of NSW Cement, Lime and Coal Company, which owned land near the railway line. There were a couple of other towns with similar names in New South Wales and South Australia, and so a name change was arranged.

Initially, the station was operated without a station master. In 1918, three swagmen took possession of the station on a Saturday morning, threatening anyone who approached the station until they were arrested by police from nearby Rylstone. The following year a station master was appointed.

There was a sense of pride taken in the presentation of stations, with staff establishing and maintaining gardens to brighten the platforms. In 1925 the station was specially commended by the area commissioner for tidiness and cleanliness. By 1927, the line was upgraded and Kandos was the fourth highest-earning station in the state, after Newcastle, Lithgow and Darling Harbour.

More recently, the Kandos Museum has taken over the lease on the old railway station and is in the process of relocating its collection. Late last year funding was granted to reopen the railway line between Kandos and Rylstone to establish the Kandos-Rylstone Rail Heritage Precinct. This will see the line repaired and upgraded and will provide opportunities for tourists and heritage lovers to visit the area and enjoy the history along with heritage train rides. In the future, this may connect up with the Lithgow State Mine railway.

Whilst the days of the railway station as the hub for small towns has largely passed, it is great to see community efforts for rejuvenation and repurposing of the old stations come to fruition.

[Photo: Capertee Railway Station, on the Gwabegar railway line towards Kandos and Mudgee]

Background Noise

This weekend there has been maintenance work carried out along the railway lines in the Blue Mountains. This isn’t an unusual occurrence, but it has made me more mindful of the noises in the background. The railway lines are a couple of blocks away, but the sound of the railway carries much further than that, particularly when the wind is casting the acoustics further afield.

It isn’t that I don’t like the sound of the railway – the opposite is true. I like to pick up the light clatter of the passenger trains, or the heavier groan of the freight and coal trains as they rumble along. Twice a day there are the swifter rattles of the XPT, and the weekly passing of the long Indian Pacific. But in the absence of the railway noise, other noises come into focus.

Bird life is plentiful in the mountains, and on a soft, damp day like today it is mainly magpies and king parrots in close proximity. The parrots tend to feed in brightly plumaged clusters in trees, neatly nibbling away at seeds high up in the trees. The cackle of kookaburras carries from a distance, along with the swooping squeal of cockatoos.

Traffic sounds from the highway include the whine and moan of trucks, always on the move. Most car and bike noises are subdued in comparison for the most part. There is the occasional hum of a plane, somewhere above the low cloud cover.

Closer to home the breeze plucks a tune from a bamboo wind chime, a soft plunking sound on the air. The rainwater tank is full and there is a methodical tinkle as the overflow is caught in a container. People walking past chatter and laugh, or speed past on bikes. Dogs in the neighbourhood holler out greetings or warnings, their calls picked up along the roadway like a raucous Chinese whisper. Then the rain starts again, a soft settling upon the roof.

What makes up your background noise?

[Photo: glimpse of a king parrot]