In the Expedition National Park, a section called Lonesome is particularly spectacular with its sandstone gorges, cliffs and the Dawson River running through the middle of it. It was once a thriving cattle station.
The Lonesome Lookout is a popular spot for adventurers and travellers with its views of Arcadia Valley and the Dawson River Valley, where “The Candlesticks”, sandstone silhouettes, rise above the river valley.
Further down the river is a historical stockmen’s hut which is still in its original state from 90 years ago. Lonesome was a cattle station prior to becoming a National Park, and evidence such as cattle yards, dams and fences are still there.
The stories of what Lonesome was are woven in the tapestry of Roma local Alanah Ladbrook’s childhood.
Held by her family for many years, Alanah’s mother would share stories from the remote cattle station near Injune in the Central Queensland sandstone belt region. Tales of mustering, tough conditions, adventures, love and loss held her captivated.
At the helm of Lonesome was Alanah’s Aunty Flo Kilpatrick. Flo was a tenacious stockwoman, renowned campdrafter and lover of fineries, despite her pioneering life. Tea was to be served in fine china - never a mug - and she was rarely seen without her gloves on to protect her hands. Legend has it there was no screw, bolt or nut Flo couldn’t undo even with her gloves firmly in place.
Flo continued to run Lonesome after the death of her husband James in the late 1950s. A nervous flyer, James was due to catch a small plane the next day when he wryly commented on a bunch of chrysanthemums on the table at the local pub, saying ‘you can put them on my grave tomorrow’. Tragically, his words foreshadowed what was to come. James died on Lonesome when the plane crashed into a tree.
A memorial was unveiled on Lonesome two years ago for James and the opportunity finally arose for Alanah to visit the property she’d long dreamt of. As she travelled from her cattle property near Roma, the emotions suddenly flooded in.
“When we came over the hill I burst into tears,” Alanah says.
“It was just pure emotion from all those years of Lonesome being that holy grail, the place mum loved to go and all those incredible stories that I grew up with.”
Flo sold Lonesome in the 1960s and it was gazetted in 1972.
Lonesome remains a step back in time and one that Alanah and two of her sons plan to retrace next month as part of Injune’s centenary celebrations.
On horseback the trio plan to explore the steep tracks and terrain that were once home to some plucky musters. At night they’ll roll out the swag and sleep under the same stars as their family before them.
“It’s just the most gorgeous country and to be doing a ride at Lonesome, somewhere I’ve heard of my whole life, will be incredibly special,” Alanah says.