are you?”
was the innocent question the tall, young Aussie asked me in a crowded Cann River, Victoria pub in 1994. Warwick was on a solo motorcycle tour. I was doing the same on a push bike. At the time, Warwick’s future was to stand up in a church and stammer, “I do!”
This wasn’t the same as my future.
We made beer/small talk about destinations and life in general. Warwick figured out my route would take me close to his “Redbank” family farm in Greenethorpe, NSW.
“Would you care to drop by and meet the family and Kristie my fiancé? I’ll show you around the farm too.”
When I realized Warwick was being sincere, (he always is) I answered, “Sure! I’ve never been on a Australian working farm before.”
A few weeks later, I had the pleasure of meeting his sweetheart Kristie, Warwick’s parents and the original Red Dog. I received a tour of the 3,000 acre dry land Redbank farm too. (Dry land farming means no irrigation.)
Since then, I’ve visited their spread four other times. Redbank seems timeless. Outbuildings and farm implements lay scattered about since the days of Warwick’s grandfather. In the front yard of their home, an out of place palm tree ekes out a living. Warwick’s father planted it in 1940. Warwick himself has discovered ancient aboriginal stone tools in paddocks. There’s heaps of history here.
What isn’t timeless are the human inhabitants. I’ve seen Warwick and Kristie’s three children grow from being polite, healthy and smart tykes to polite, healthy and smart young adults. The kids have now flown the coop to university,. Their career paths will more than likely steer them away from Redbank.
In place of human children, there’s now six dogs, four peacocks, a gaggle of geese, two horses, one donkey, two alpacas, two nocturnal cats and numerous hens and cock-a-doodle-doo roosters. Warwick also feeds possums while he feeds himself dinner. All in all, their real children were better behaved.
There’s been other changes as well.
When I first started showing up, Warwick was growing vegetable matter. Namely wheat and canola. Now he’s growing animal matter, sheep and cattle. On my last visit in 2014, Warwick ran about 750 sheep. Five years later, he’s managing over 2,500 four-legged vegetarians. His only helpers are the six dogs in various stages of training. It’s body aching work. (Warwick required a back surgery years ago.) In Aussie lingo, “It’s hard yakka.”
It’s an Olympic endurance event without a finish line. There’s no time clock to punch or days off. One chore seems to begat two-three others. It’s a long day spent opening and closing gates, moving mobs of sheep from one paddock to another, feeding them grain when necessary, fixing fences, spraying invasive weeds, repairing water lines, being a Veterinarian to injured or sick livestock, shearing the wool and countless other tasks.
Yet, through it all Warwick and Kristie maintain a stoic Zen-like attitude.
The village of Greenethorpe has undergone changes as well. When Warwick was attending school, he had 49 classmates. Now there are 15 students total. Fellow farmers are cashing in their properties and moving to greener pastures. They are selling out to corporations who are driving up the price of a hectare. The real coup de gras has been the shuttering of Greenethorpe‘s one and only pub.
Even an Ex- city bred New Yorker noticed the difference. So I asked, “What happened?”
“Jeff, our summers have gotten hotter and drier. This year we already had over 30 days of above 40 degree Celsius (104 F) temperatures. Our last measurable rain was in the second week of January. It’s been going on like this since before you were here last. Our harvests were becoming too unreliable. We adapted to sheep because they handle the extremes better than the grains. Unfortunately, tending sheep is a lot more labor intensive than sowing, weeding, fertilizing and harvesting grains. Somehow we’ll manage.”
See? Zen-like.
Then I broached the 800 kilogram kangaroo in the corner. “Warwick? Do you think climate change is happening?”
Warwick rationalized it this way, “Yes! All that carbon that was locked up in ancient dinosaurs and vegetation is now being burned. It has to have an affect on the planet. I’m seeing it at ground level.”
Side note: Warwick is probably one of the wisest human beings I’ve ever had the pleasure to have met.
After a few days, I grew restless. (Story of my life.) it was time to say “until we meet again” to Redbank’s inspirational couple.
From the brackish river town of Moruya, I noticed a large low pressure system descending upon the region. There was a high probability of rain associated with it. That wet stuff was supposed to even hit Greenethorpe.
I emailed Kristie in the morning and told them I was doing a rain dance for them. When showers began in Moruya, I emailed again and asked, “did the you get rainstorms?”
Kristie replied back later, “No. Dust storms.”
“Damn!” Was all I could think.
Last photo to all my faithful readers including those wannabe hackers from Russia, Ukraine and the Unknown Region, there will never be another like ewes.
