My Time in Cue ~ Part 5

A Lazy Day

Traffic flows intermittently along the Great Northern Highway that bisects Cue situated almost halfway between Mt Magnet and Meekatharra.

4 x wheel drive vehicles towing a caravan creep through town, some stop at the caravan park, others are intent on covering the empty miles. Road trains carrying diverse cargoes rumble by … a truckload of goats heading south, their ultimate destination the lucrative Asian market. The feral goats, no longer a despised intruder on the red dirt stations, are now a dollar earner; these pastel gray coloured animals with their wide trusting eyes taking in the countryside as they go on their final journey are oblivious to their destination, or the reason for this trip. The delicate flavoured flesh of goat rivals the tender cut of spring lamb.

Road trains, many pulling three trailers with an uncountable number of wheels, transport equally massive loaders and other machinery; some are packed with sheets of metal to be used in the burgeoning mining industry, while others haul buildings to be used as workers accommodation on mine sites; truck decks carry tyres so immense they defy the imagination as to the exact proportions of the vehicles they will clad.

Ancient cars, pouring blue smoke from noisy exhausts cruise the main drag, and family sedans come to a halt outside the general store discharging an adult seeking Sunday newspapers and other forgotten essentials.

I spied, at the southern end of town, a truck carrying a giant- sized piece of yellow machinery. The truck was creeping along the main street, on the wrong side of the road, and ahead of it were two pilot vehicles, lights flashing as a warning! Out in front, a man clasping a pole lifted the criss-cross of overhead lines, as the load was too tall to navigate without man-made aid. Fascinated I stared as the entourage crept steadily closer. To my utmost amazement the top of that load was several meters higher than I, and I was on a second storey balcony! A second truck followed … it carried over-sized tyres for the preceding load. Attempting to picture this yellow monster working in the mines almost defied even my vivid imagination.

Earlier in the morning volunteers carrying orange plastic bags, and wearing old gardening gloves, unselfishly gave up a Sunday morning, moving briskly about their task of ridding the streets of rubbish … cigarette butts, beer bottles and cans carelessly tossed from moving vehicles under the cover of darkness, stray pieces of paper that found their way onto the streets and footpaths. In this small country town a definite sense of pride in one’s surroundings is profoundly evident, and I take my hat off to those who answered the call for cleaner’s-uppers on this particular Sunday. Later in the year this diligence was rewarded … Cue was awarded the title of Top Town, an accolade well deserved.

Small children, barefooted and intent on a ritual of their own making, walked and skipped from pole to pole, executing a complete circle at each pole. One who trailed slightly behind his peers, in attempting to catch up, omitted the essential swing around the pole, and after suitable admonishment from his seniors, this error was rectified.

A gentle breeze filled the flags flying on the Shire Office and adjacent War Memorial, while beneath the sheltered picnic tables a small coach disgorged a group of elderly travelers making a mid morning-tea stop and absorbed a semblance of small town life. Cameras clicked recording the ‘olde worlde’ charm of the Police Station and Post Office, captured the essence of a country hotel, and listened to the explanatory tale regaled by their leader. Few ventured across the street, none walked down the footpath to where historical records filled empty shop windows begged to be read and interpreted anew.