There's a sudden scurry among the granite boulders. I freeze, looking right, then left.
A rogue primate, perhaps?
No, just a particularly muddy stray sheep ducking behind a rock.
I'm traipsing up Mount Bobbara near Binalong, so why am I scanning the ridgeline for monkeys?
Well, Australia's premier bush bard, Banjo Paterson, is partly to blame. Oh, along with a travelling circus that rolled into Binalong in 1858.
During a performance under the Big Top, 11-year-old John Dacey successfully rode a bucking circus mule, wrongly believing the advertised "crown" prize was cash.
When handed a worthless paper crown instead, a humiliated and furious Dacey sought immediate revenge. He broke into the circus enclosures and let all the monkeys out of their cages. Oh dear.
The bizarre spectacle was recalled as far away as the Dubbo Dispatch and later immortalised by Banjo in his poem, When Dacey Rode the Mule.
So, naturally, as I trudge up Bobbara, I've got my eyes peeled for any possible descendants of those runaway primates. Who wouldn't?
Jimbo, a colourful barfly I met earlier at the Hotel Binalong, certainly suggested I keep a sharp lookout.
"You just never know, mate," were his parting words as I left him at the bar. At least, those were the words I could easily decipher.
If you haven't heard of Mount Bobbara, you're not alone. It's well and truly off the beaten track. The mountain - which is more an oversized hill, really - sits on the privately owned Bobbara Station.
It's only on special fundraising days for the Binalong Public School P&C that the gates open to the public.
The reward for making the climb is a 360-degree panorama of rolling farms, granite knolls, and, at this time of year, glorious yellow sheets of canola stretching to the horizon.
The walk is roughly 3.5 kilometres return. It doesn't sound like much on paper, but it's a relentless grind uphill virtually all the way.
About halfway up, a super-fit, Lycra-clad lady jogs effortlessly past me. Ten minutes later, she flies past me again on her way back down.
It turns out it's Lula Brock, and she isn't just here to admire the scenery. She's using Bobbara as a training ground for an upcoming ultramarathon.
"This is my sixth lap since 9am, and I've got three more to go before 1pm," she tells me, anxiously checking her watch. Heck. And here I am, still gasping for air on lap number one. And I'm walking.
"There's nothing quite like it with the canola coming out, the beautiful windmills, and the vistas across to Mount Bowning - it's a truly special spot to train," Lula says.
As I press upwards, sweat trickles down my back before a stiff breeze catches it, drying it instantly. Lucky it's a warm day for this time of year, or the wind chill up here would really bite.
Impromptu interviews with joggers aside, there are plenty of other opportunities to pause, and you absolutely should. The temptation is to keep your eyes glued to the summit, but some of the best vistas are directly behind you. When you stop, make sure you turn around. Wow!
Much of the track follows a bitumen road winding towards the summit. While dodging the inevitable piles of sheep droppings - it is a working farm, after all - I'm stopped dead in my tracks by a strange creature.
No, not a monkey.
A dog. And not a real one, as four-legged friends aren't permitted. This one is made entirely of stone.
Over the years, this column has featured hundreds of tree stumps, clouds, and rocks that look like other things, but this natural sculpture is one of the best I've encountered. With its long face and floppy ears, it looks exactly like a basset hound, sitting beside the track as if keeping watch over the passing walkers.
If it's waiting around for folk striding by in paper crowns, it'd be sorely disappointed in me. Despite the howling wind, I'm sticking to my trusty Akubra.
Onwards and upwards.
Near the summit, the track reaches a high-tech communications compound complete with towers, aerials, and an Airservices Australia radar installation. But it's well worth pushing a little further to the official trig point.
A word of warning: up here, the gales can really howl. Hold onto your hat - paper or otherwise.
Sit down. Enjoy a gulp of water. And just soak in that magnificent landscape.
It's easy to imagine First Nations people standing here long before surveyors, farmers, and engineers arrived. Sadly, the true origin of the name Bobbara appears to have been lost to time, though local interpretations include "to sing" and "middle high place".
Today, vibrant canola fields extend as far as the eye can see, and you can peer right across to Burrinjuck and the majestic blue-hued Brindabellas on the southern horizon.
What makes this walk so special is that it's normally locked away from the public. So, when the local P&C opens the farm gates for a fundraiser on September 13, grab the chance.
Sure, the climb will make you sweat, but the knock-out view is worth it.
Oh, and if you happen to spot a particularly hairy, muddy sheep that looks suspiciously like a primate among the granite? Don't ask questions. Just snap a grainy photo for Jimbo back at the Binalong pub. He can add it to his collection of mythical creatures he reckons are lurking in the surrounding hills.
Moount Bobbara walk: Sunday, September 13 from 9am to 1pm. Bobbara Road, Binalong. Entry by donation. No dogs allowed. Binalong Rescue Squad will be on hand to assist with first-aid and Bowning Lions Club will be on the barbecue (go on, you deserve a sausage or two after that climb!).
Take 2: Don't mistake Mount Bobbara for nearby Bowning Hill, which featured in this column last year. While easy to confuse, they are separate peaks. Both sit on private land, open occasionally for community fundraisers, share similar summit silhouettes, and watch over historic towns starting with the letter 'B'. Above all, both offer magnificent walks well worth the effort. Note: unlike Bobbara, there is no public walk planned for Bowning Hill this spring.
Don't miss: If you are driving through Binalong, keep your eyes peeled on Wellington Street for a survivor of a bygone era: the Mechanics' Institute.
While these days it's usually locked up, this grand hall has been the town's social heartbeat since late 1912 when it threw its doors open to bring adult education, technical lectures and literacy to a frontier region better known for gold fever, dusty Cobb & Co coaches and bushranger shootouts.
Over generations, the structure has undergone quite an identity shift. It morphed from a serious sanctuary of learning into a civic playground - hosting flickering travelling picture shows, lively weekend bush dances, and modern-day antique auctions.
Of course, Binalong isn't alone. Mechanics' Institutes are scattered all across regional Australia, harbouring countless local secrets.
Do you have a connection to an old institute? Let me know - even better if you've kicked up some dust inside the Binalong one!
Rating: Medium - Hard
Cryptic Clue: I hope you are on the right track with your guess
How to enter: Email your guess along with your name and address to [email protected]. The first correct email received after 10am, Saturday September 5 wins a double pass to Dendy, the Home of Quality Cinema.
Last week: Congratulations to Peter Harris of Latham who was the first reader to correctly identify last week's photo as the confluence of the Cotter River and Paddys River at Cotter Bend. "Welcome Back Kotter, staring Gabe Kaplan as a high-school teacher was the clue", explains Peter who just beat Peter Stevenson of Macarthur to the prize.
Continuing this column's recent foray into oddly-worded signs comes this ripper from David Salt.
The sign over the spillway of the Nepean Dam, located just off the highway up to Sydney, reads "no admittance beyond this point" and emphasises this point by saying up front "definitely", says David, "something I've never seen in official signage before."
David recommends the dam site as a stopover site for anyone wanting a break that's a little different to petrol station/fast food stops on the way to Sydney. According to WaterNSW "Nepean Dam was the last and smallest of the four dams constructed to collect water from the Illawarra Plateau south of Sydney. Today, you can walk across the dam wall and soak up the Art Deco style of construction, which contrasts with the Egyptian influenced architecture of Avon and Cordeaux dams."
Proof that granite outcrops aren't the only place where faces can be spotted, Nick Arnott recently spotted this 'Scream'-like face in a tree trunk while taking four-footed friend Brutus for a walk near the Theodore Electrical Zone Substation.
CONTACT TIM: Email: [email protected] or Twitter: @TimYowie or write c/- The Canberra Times, GPO Box 606, Civic, ACT, 2601
