Around The Old Mine Site

By Bike and Train

The Copper Coast lies about 2 hours north of Adelaide, at the top of the Yorke Peninsula looking out over the Spencer Gulf. Back in the late 1800s and early 1900s the area boasted some of the largest copper mines in the world and although the mines have long gone there are reminders of them everywhere: the mine sites dotted with ruins and acrid with century-old chemicals; the rows of old stone miner's cottages; and the strong Cornish cultural heritage which results in cornish pasties for sale in every bakery and cafe.

Moonta, where we spent a weekend in a cottage beside the sea, was a curious mix of year-round residents and streets of empty houses awaiting the summer holiday crowds. The pathways around Moonta just asked to be explored by bicycle rather than by car, and a brand new rail trail had just opened between Moonta and Wallaroo. Not that I planned to cycle the rail trail just yet: the plan instead was to explore the Moonta Mine site which sprawled over a large area just on the edge of town. The first stop of the morning was the brand new bicycle repair station at the Moonta Tourist Information centre where I pumped my tyres up fully for the first time and also taught Roger how to use a Presta valve which, as you cyclists out there know, is a fragile, fiddly thing.

The old Moonta Railway Station, start of both the rail trail and the tracks that meander around the mine site.

All pumped up, we initially followed the rail trail through some of the old mine precinct. We rode on slippery gravel, with the road engineer tutting about poor surfacing choices, past the debris of mines long gone where rocks bled green into the red soil.

Despite the mine being closed for 100 years the air still held an acrid scent reminiscent of our early married days in the shadow of Mt Isa's copper-lead-zinc smelter smokestacks.

Stone ruins abounded. After two years in South Australia, these ruins were still a novelty to my Queensland eyes. In Queensland the majority of old buildings were made of timber and there are few of them left, most having been eaten by termites or burned to the ground long ago.

We had a tourist train to catch, so left the rail trail and pedaled smartly back to the Moonta Mine Museum, in front of which all the train tourists gathered as they waited for the train. Wouldn't you know it, there were Devonshire Teas available and the time until the train came was just right for the consumption of scones and tea so we bowed to the inevitable and sat in the fickle sunshine to enjoy Morning Devonshire Tea as a departure from our usual Morning Coffee ritual.

Train driver reading the riot act about train etiquette, like keeping arms and legs inside the carriage when going past stone walls (or at any time really), and if you drop your camera or baby overboard for goodness sake pull the emergency stop button don't just leap off into the abyss, or the claypan, or whatever.

The train meandered through the mine workings, the narration providing much more information than I would have ever gained by stopping my bicycle and (not) reading the information boards.

We clattered happily around the mine site for an hour, hopping out to have a look-see at the interesting bits before landing back at the station where (phew!) our bikes were still safely chained to the fence. Mind you, we toured only the new (post 1900) mine site, the old (pre 1900) site being too full of things like unidentified mine shafts to be safe for unwary tourists. Back on the bikes, we went looking for the interesting bits that the train didn't go to.

The old mine, the town, and the wide open expanse of the Yorke Peninsula dressed up in green wheat.

We found the Moonta Uniting Church which, if you use the metric of >1000 people being a mega-church, was Australia's first mega-church. It was all closed, so we didn't get a chance to see the beautiful old pipe organ which lived inside.

Of course the exemplary attendance may have had something to do with the fact that the zealous mine manager decreed compulsory attendance on pain of being at worst fired and at best having your pay docked.

Scattered throughout the mine site were slag heaps and clay pans where, even after 100 years, nothing grew. Back in the operating days of the Moonta Mines no-one saw anything wrong with building shallow pools on top of slag heaps, filling them with sulphuric acid, and letting it percolate down through the whole heap before mixing the resulting liquor with sea water, sloshing it around with scrap iron, and pouring the unwanted residue out onto a slime pit which would 100 years later be a clay pan still devoid of any vegetation.

T'was possible to climb to the top and look out over the rolling wheatfields to the East, and the Spencer Gulf to the west. T'was also possible to gambol about in the sulphuric-acid-infused expanses of bright red soil, should one desire to do so.

Environment? What environment?

Pathways constructed of old sleepers led out across the slag heap/sulphuric acid wasteland, for those of us who wished to stick to the straight and narrow.

We found Hughes Tower, where steam engines pumped for over 50 continuous years to keep the mines free of water. Between the demand for timber to feed the steam engines and the demand for scrap iron to help precipitate copper, the local farmers had a revenue stream that lasted as long as it took them to chop down every inch of the 'impenetrable scrub' which was what 'moonta' meant in the local indigenous language.

Wattle as well as wildflowers. There was more vegetation around the pump tower, steam engines being less deleterious to the environment than sulphuric acid.

These really are the last mine photos, I promise.

Saturated with mining history, and with the sharp odour of copper bringing back Mt Isa memories, we went home via the most direct route where I, being now sanctimonious about bicycle visibility seeing I had a fancy dyno hub and consistent red tail light, lectured Roger on his invisibility in the failing light.

You are invisible! You will get squashed and I will be a widow! Have you considered a life insurance policy?

"I'll go down to see the sunset tonight," said I, when we got hom. "To get some nice photos." Which was problematic because the sun had used up all of its flim-flam the day before and had none left for today. I took photos anyway because why take a camera down the beach if you're not going to use it?

And that was the end of the day.

Today's ride: 20 km (12 miles)
Total: 568 km (353 miles)

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