Whenever I drive the Yowie-mobile towards Araluen, I always feel like I'm about to enter another world. A magical one.
Maybe it's the pot-holed road that winds its way deep down into the valley. Maybe it's the fact you leave all the coast traffic behind in Braidwood. People actually want to be here - they aren't passing through. Or perhaps it's the mist that shrouds the higher peaks that circle the valley - hiding secrets of the bygone gold rush years of the mid-late 1800s.
Or more than likely it's a result of my obligatory stop at the Reidsdale Fairy Tree. Those who were reading this column back in 2012 will know I'm not about to be the spoilsport who reveals the exact location of this enchanting roadside treasure. Part of its allure is trying to find it.
Suffice to say the fairy tree is near a quiet crossroad and has enamoured locals since the first Irish settlers to the area installed a system of pulleys and secret miniature rooms inside its gaping hollow. They then decorated these rooms with tiny furniture for small hairy "Red Men" creatures, a southern hemisphere cousin of leprechauns, who apparently live in the forest.
Six years ago, inspired by this landmark ancient gum, long-time Araluen local, 89-year-old Clem Wilson, created his own fairy "tree" for all to enjoy.
No need to keep the location of this one hush-hush. Carved out of sandstone and lovingly erected in three weeks, it's fast become a must-see for all who visit the village.
"The kids absolutely love it," says Clem as he crouches and grinning ear-to-ear, leads me into the mini silo-like structure.
"Talented artist Emma Lipscomb stayed with me for three weeks," he explains, pointing to the meticulously drawn artwork that adorns the walls. "It took her a full day to complete each fairy."
The modern fairy tree is in memory of Clem's grandfather John (Jack) Collins, and his wife Annie who ran the Hotel Araluen for many years.
"Jack loved this town and gave so much to it," says Clem, proudly pulling out an old yellowing newspaper clipping from his top pocket. It's his grandfather's obituary penned by Jack Musgrave, owner of The Braidwood Despatch, on November 5, 1943.
"To him Araluen was always the best place in the world ... behind him lies a record of fine citizenship that will endure while the golden valley lasts," wrote Musgrave.
To say Jack had a rough start as publican at the town's pub would be an understatement.
"He bought the Araluen Arms, but a week before he was due to take over the license, it 'mysteriously' burnt down," reveals Clem, shaking his head in dismay.
In addition to Jack's heartache, Araluen was left with no hotel.
"The breweries wanted to use the license to open another hotel in the booming mining town of Kalgoorlie," says Clem, still shaking his head.
"Left with a pile of ashes, the brewery gave him a lifeline - if he rebuilt within three to five months, he could keep the licence," explains Clem.
Unable to rebuild in that timeframe, Jack came up with a better idea - a temporary bar in the Perseverance Store.
Locals got on board, it worked and over time it morphed into the hotel it still is today.
Clem spent the bulk of his first 14 years around the country pub and remembers "old bush characters, the rabbit trappers, and the old hands who used to come in for a drink, feed and a yarn."
Most pubs in old Australian mining towns had a well-earned reputation for being rough, but not Hotel Araluen under Jack's stewardship.
"Nobody stepped out of line with granddad - he was a big man, a strong man. He and his wife were just so respected," recalls Clem.
As a kid, Clem recalls fun days spent eeling and fishing for bass in the river and as any kid would, the day ice-cream first came to town.
"Word spread like wildfire that Ma Norman's shop in north Araluen, where she peddled everything from horseshoes to pearl-handle pocketknives, was selling the first ice-cream in the valley," says Clem.
"My family sent me up to the shop on my push bike with a billycan, but when I got it back to the pub the ice-cream had completely melted," he laughs.
He also remembers helping "his grandparents prepare jelly by lowering it, pre-refrigeration days, on planks into the well where it could set in the cooler air".
After leaving Araluen in 1948 to finish school at St Patrick's in Goulburn, and then working in pubs in Sydney, Narrabri and Gravesend, Clem returned in 1958 to the pub he'd grown up in, this time to run it with his mum and two aunts.
However, in 1963 the big smoke of Canberra was calling and he got "a real job" at the Tourism Bureau and other government departments until he returned to Araluen in the mid-1980s.
"It's a lot quieter now than it used to be," he deadpans as he points down the main street. "To think that in the height of the gold rush in the 1860s, there were 42 liquor licences, three public schools and five private schools."
You can say that again.
"There's still tonnes of gold out there", you just need to know where to look, he says with a glint in his eyes.
Modern-day gold seekers needn't worry searching for it - for the real treasure in Araluen is old-timers like Clem who provide a tangible link to our pioneering past.
Clem recalls village's pioneering past
Hotel Araluen: There pub first opened by Jack Collins is still operating in town. If you visit, pay special attention to the front windows - they are the original 1870s windows dating to when the building opened as the Perseverance Store.
The Great Depression: During the years of the Great Depression, publican Jack Collins, Clem Wilson's grandfather, earned a reputation of being a kind-hearted man who sometimes gave his own money to some of his less well-off patrons so they could pay for their meals.
War rations: Clem also vividly recalls the years of World War II as a primary school-aged child growing up in the valley. "I remember the rations - everything was on coupons - so there was no money to be spent in town," he explains. "Granddad would order spirits by the bottle, not the case. A three-course baked dinner, bread, butter, jam and tea and sweets was two bob (2 shillings) - the same price as a pound of butter," he recalls.
Tragedy hits Araluen: Clem also recalls a military aircraft on a photographic mission that crashed in the valley on September 16, 1943. "I'll never forget it," he says. "One bloke was apparently killed instantly on impact and the other poor fella who survived the crash had his legs trapped under the wreckage ... he couldn't be saved."
Lookout explosives: Like Pooh's Corner on the Clyde Mountain, during the war, explosives and mines were placed in bush near the current lookout on the Araluen Road. "A group of Australian soldiers stayed at the pub for many weeks while they laid those mines," says Clem. "The plan was if the Japanese invaded from the coast, they'd blow the road to smithereens so they couldn't get inland towards Canberra."
WHERE IN CANBERRA?
Rating: Medium
Clue: You may need to weigh up your options
How to enter: Email your guess along with your name and address to tym@iinet.net.au. The first correct email sent after 10am, Saturday July 8 wins a double pass to Dendy, the Home of Quality Cinema.
Last week: Congratulations to Andy Hogan of Bonython who was first to identify last week's photo as the sadly long-closed lookout at Ginninderra Falls.
Golden years
Gold was discovered in the Araluen area in September 1851 and within months 15,000 people descended on valley. At the time there were no roads into Araluen and many miners came down the coast on steamers, disembarking at Nelligen, Moruya or Batemans Bay and walking to Araluen. Hotels started to pop up along the route. During the first year of the gold rush, it is estimated 100,000 ounces of gold had been taken. In the early 1900s there were up to 11 dredges working the river. The goldfields remained productive up to the 1920s.
Weather extremes
One of the worst floods to hit Araluen was in February 1860 when a torrent of water destroyed mining claims, equipment, and washed away houses and even hotels. There were reports of pianos from Araluen entertainment venues being washed out the mouth of the Moruya River. Many lives were lost. Clem Wilson, 89, has also seen his fair share of fires and floods in Araluen, but none worse than the Black Summer Fire, when on January 4, 2020, "but for a wind change, the whole valley would have burnt to the ground".
CONTACT TIM: Email: tym@iinet.net.au or Twitter: @TimYowie or write c/- The Canberra Times, GPO Box 606, Civic, ACT, 2601
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