Signs of life ... Mrs Barnes's boarding house in Yerranderie.Credit: Lance Richardson
Once sustained by silver mining, the ghost town of Yerranderie reveals its secrets to Lance Richardson.
Walking back from the cemetery, there's a fleeting moment when I think I might be lost. All the trails look the same, surrounded by denuded trees that huddle like interlocking fingers. Even the debris - rusted equipment, broken fencing, the remnants of chimneys - is so abundant it's lost any usefulness as a marker. As dusk sets in, I find myself playing Russian roulette with directions. How far can I get, really? And the caretaker said he'd come and find me if I failed to arrive at the town before dark.
After a few more turns of the trail, I come to a sign that says "Ghosts this way please". There's a small arrow alongside a figure holding a candle in one hand and a severed head in the other. I assume the sign could mean one of two things: it could be a trick, encouraging ghosts away from the town so visitors (such as me) can sleep unassailed by fear; or it could be doing exactly as it seems, directing ghosts back to their home. Yerranderie is, after all, a "ghost town".
To reach it you drive deep into the Blue Mountains National Park along the Oberon-Colong Stock Route. There's been an unseasonable dump of snow when I visit; someone has built a small snowman at the park's entrance, near a notice warning visitors to carry spare food, water, tyres and clothing. After 60 kilometres of unsealed road so sinuous it seems to dilate time into an eternity, you come upon several dead dogs slung up on a wire and covered with cobwebs. Yerranderie is past those, marked by a street sign hammered into a tree.
But this ghost sign in front of me now is a little more ambiguous, so I hazard a guess. Following the arrow into a hollow, I find the bush opens out on to a wide clearing where dozens of kangaroos raise their heads in unison. Sure enough, behind them are the last buildings of what was once a thriving silver-mining village. There's Mrs Barnes's boarding house beside the tailor's shop. Woodhill's Store is looking a little worse for wear, stripped of its shape by termites. Rounding out the small street is a co-operative store and, across the road, an imposing white post office.
My accommodation is the last house on the left - Slippery Norris's cottage - with his tombstone under the cypress tree. Except for the caretaker who lives in his own house at the end of the clearing, there isn't a single living person in the whole place.
It wasn't always like this, of course. Yerranderie was once home to more than 2000 people who relied on profits from the local mines. After William Russell discovered silver here in 1871, 30 years was all it took to set up a bustling community, which had a bank and a primary school. At its height, the air would have been thick with smoke "and the smell of privies", the caretaker says.
There are signs of industry everywhere: giant mounds of rubble in the bush, an entire hillside sheared away and threaded with the wooden beams of what was once a giant furnace. Just behind, cordoned off by a steel cage, is a deep bore. The caretaker warns me there could be more - wander off the tracks at your own risk, in other words.
By the 1950s, fewer than 100 people remained. A drop in the silver price had driven most back to the city; the rest were forcibly removed following the construction of Warragamba Dam in nearby Burragong Valley. The town was reclaimed by the kangaroos and spiders for nearly 10 years.
It would have stayed this way, too, were it not for the efforts of Valerie Lhuede. Her father had bought the town in the 1940s, hoping for a surge in silver, which never happened. Convinced of its value as a relic of pioneering Australia, Lhuede acquired the town herself over subsequent decades and set about restoring it as a private museum. She received an Order of Australia for her efforts and, until recently, you could find her living in the renovated post office, now a lodge capable of housing up to 31 guests. Lhuede reopened Yerranderie in the early 1970s; the same visitors' book has been used here for more than 40 years. She donated the town to the NSW National Parks and Wildlife Service in March.
Intrigued by such an unusual personal project, I do a little snooping around and find Lhuede's touches everywhere. The lodge is decorated with flamboyant retro furniture, and an Aboriginal art collection in the old bakery is testament to her commitment to the historical Gundungurra people. Similarly, the co-operative store, now a small museum, reveals an owner fascinated by local history in all its stages, from volcanic formation of the Blue Mountains to the details of mining techniques and the production of Australian glass.
The keenest revelation of Lhuede's character comes through a 1972 spread from Woman's Day pasted to a wall. In an open letter directed to Prince Philip, petitioning him to turn Warragamba into a wildlife park, Lhuede struggles over the appropriate address.
"I can't put: 'Hey, pin-up-boy,' now can I?" she asks. Then: "I always read and listen to your replies to the questions of the gentlemen (?) of the press. You do like to make them squirm a little, don't you?"
While the rest of the world builds over its past, here's a place where time accretes like objects in a forgotten attic. Mrs Barnes's boarding house, in particular, is filled with artefacts that open a window to a bygone era: ink pots, a kewpie doll, bellows in the fireplace. I use a skeleton key from the caretaker to find a lady's bedroom, the roof sagging like a circus tent in rain. A suitcase under the bed is filled with 1910 newspaper clippings from The Sun, "the only daily paper in Australasia". It's as though the inhabitants went out in the early days of last century, got lost in the bush and never returned.
One person who did return is Slippery Norris, a Gallipoli veteran and Yerranderie miner in the 1920s. Lhuede helicoptered him back in the 1980s and he was laid to rest here in 1994. There are a number of places where you can sleep in Yerranderie but, with its comforting fireplace and wood-lined walls, Slippery Norris's cottage seems like the best bet. Having said that, things to avoid thinking about when you're staying alone in a ghost town include dark mine shafts, bunyips and the man buried in the front yard.
I soon discover that in a place such as this, every sound is pregnant with dark potential. Do I see any ghosts through the night? No. But do I open the door for any reason except to get firewood? Not once. I sleep in a small alcove, quickly appreciating why the rest of the town's cemetery is sited two kilometres away on the other side of a gully.
The following morning, to shake off psychological cobwebs, I wander past the town's welcome sign ("Vandals with be HAMSTRUNG!") and make the difficult climb up to Yerranderie Peak. It's an arduous walk, winding along a rough path that's succeeded by a rocky scramble to the top. From its vertiginous height, impressive valleys stretch away on every side and the glimmering surface of Warragamba Dam can be glimpsed in the east. But within moments I notice storm clouds brewing. Now I'm all alone on a mountain top, with no protection, the day seems suddenly more alarming than the night ever did.
Just before I make a frenzied descent I glance down at the town. Directly below, little more than a slight thinning of trees, Yerranderie is almost hidden in bush. There is its lake, strangely coloured from years of mining run-off, and part of the post office roof. The rest is virtually invisible to the outside world, a world unto itself.
Lance Richardson travelled courtesy of Blue Mountains Tourism.
FAST FACTS
Getting there
Yerranderie is about five-and-a-half hours' drive from Sydney via Oberon in the Blue Mountains. The road is sealed until the turn-off at Shooters Hill, then unsealed for 60 kilometres through national park. Two-wheel drives can be used in most conditions, though check creek levels with Yerranderie caretakers after heavy rain.
Staying there
Beds in the Post Office Lodge cost $44 a person a night. Slippery Norris Cottage costs a minimum $150 for three people a night; each additional guest costs $50. You can sleep in the bank for $33 a night. Camping in the town clearing costs $12 a person; showers and toilets available. All food must be brought in and all rubbish must be taken out. For bookings, phone 4659 6165.
Things to do
A one-hour town tour is available covering Yerranderie's history, mining sites and rebirth as a private museum.
The climb to Yerranderie Peak takes two to three hours and requires moderate fitness. The beginning is indicated by a marker 150 metres from the town's welcome sign. The four-kilometre Zuchetti Flat Walk to the Tonalli River is also open.
More information
See yeranderie.com; visitbluemountains.com.au.
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