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prevents any person from or obstructs him in working at or exercising, 

his lawful trade or occupation, or beats or uses any violence or threat 

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on conviction before two Justices, be liable to imprisonment 

for a term not exceeding six months , or a fine not exceeding £20.”

     The second time I was in Lockhart in this version of my life was in 2013 and I was on the trail of the Great Shearers’ strikes of the 1880’s and 90’s. Brookong Station, south west of the town on the Urana road was the place where Henry Baylis, the dour Scots Police Magistate from Wagga Wagga read this section of the Riot Act for the first time in the history of the colony.

     I booked into the Commercial Hotel in the centre of town – a pub that’d caught my eye 3 years earlier - and then headed out to Brookong where I’d arranged with the boss of the place to visit the no-longer-used shearing shed. Turned out he had to be called away and his son, Jeremy – 14 years old from memory – was to show me around.

Old sheds are always fascinating and this one still had the lagoon for the washing and scouring. Was all intensely interesting imagining the confrontations of 130 years previous. Then the young fella asked if I wanted to see the ‘shear tree’. I had no idea what he was talking about, but said I did so we walked over to this majestic gum, maybe 20-25 metres high and he pointed up about 4 metres where the tree had a pair of bumps about 50 cms apart out from each of which protruded rusty metal points. “When the strikers were defeated one of the shearers turned around and wrapped his shears around the trunk of the tree and said, ‘well I won’t be needing these,’ and now they’ve grown up to there as the tree got bigger,’ explained my guide. And I thought, “wow but, er, no, trees don’t grow like that, grasses push up from the bottom but shrubs and trees grow from the top, that’s why the blazed messages on explorers’ ‘dig trees’ don’t move up over time”, but I said nothing to the nice young bloke. These shear (or ‘blade’) trees have since become a major sidebar to my travels, especially along the Murrumbidgee – from Yanga to Pretty Pine to Burrabogie

I’ve examined them and wondered. I’ve heard stories, theories and yarns about them but never got to the real truth. Anyway I went back to Lockhardt, had a brew on the stunning balcony and mulled the new interest. Three years prior I’d paused in the Veranda Town and took a shot which I continue to use when talking of indicators of being in the bush. Out front of the pub, beside the main entrance was a blackboard. It didn’t list the daily specials or some function like city pub boards do, no it was headed ‘CONGRADULATIONS’ and continued, ‘

Jye Taylor on shearing your first 100 (106). One of many well done mate (15 yrs old) 21/9/10” Now that’s country! (11 years later I was at the Boree Creek hotel and told that story to a bloke with a seriously poor mullet but I’d not seen the photo for a while and said it was ‘James’ Taylor in 2012. He looked straight at me and, ‘nah, mate, his name was Jye and it was 2010. Now, I carry the pic on my laptop so got it off the bike and bugger me he was bang-on. I show Mister Ranga Mullet the pic and he grabs his phone. A couple of rings and it gets picked up. “Mate, I’m at the Boree Creek pub and there’s a bloke here with a picture of that blackboard at Lockhart when you shore your first hundred.” “Bullshit,” comes the response over speakerphone, “Even I don’t have a picture of that.” Well now he’s got one to go with the more recent blackboard congratulating him on his first 300 - and I have another story and I’m thinking of that when I rock up to the Commercial in

the middle of 2022. It’s had a fresh coat, looks schmick and rather than a blackboard, I spot a sort of mosaic set into the footpath. It’s a wide shot of a group of men, trees in the background with the sub-title of: Striking Shearers Camp at Brookong Station 1888. Gotta love a place that embraces its history. A quick pat for Klay, the red cattle dog who’s the official welcomer and then it’s to the bar when Deb’s enquiring what I’d like. Behind her there’s a large mural in the style of Ken Maynard with each of the figures carrying the name of an

appropriate local. Deb: “It was done by a guy named Joe Perner who went around to pubs and there’s another one in the New Gunyah around the corner (now closed unfortunately) and he did it for beer – just stuff he could drink in the bar when he’d knocked off for the day. Not for slabs or anything like that.” She’s not sure of the date but Australia 2 winning the Yankee Cup in ’83 is up there so most figure it was after this but then other locals are certain it’s older and Bondy’s toy was added later. The pub was built in 1905/6 from 200,000 locally made bricks for a bloke named McCraken on a builder’s tender of £3,050/-/- and the first function advertised for it was the wedding reception for his daughter who married a fella named Glasgow so there’s a strong Caledonian history to this place. It was expanded in 1911 and 1934 and at its peak had 35 guest rooms and a cracking billiard parlour and was the major pub in town for a century but then droughts topped off by Covid saw

the owners close the doors and walk away in February 2020.Debbie and Darren were in Ballarat trying to work out how to escape from Victoria. If there was a reality TV show called, “I’m a Victorian Get Me Out of Here,’ they would’ve auditioned. She ran a hair salon and he was a chippy who’d had a knee replacement that didn’t work out too well and was pretty much retired. 

    They’d both worked in pubs in the UK – he in his native Norfolk and she in London whilst on an extended working holiday. The Tattersalls Club at Mathoura suited them but negotiations dragged and this one came up. Since they couldn’t cross the border and then get back again, the agent compiled a video of the place, they liked it, made an offer and took possession on November 24th 2021. Pulled their first beers on December 8th, revved up the kitched a week later and opened the 8 accommodation rooms the next month. 

     And ah, they got busy quick. “We weren’t fully prepared. We were run off our feet because the people in the town had missed having their pub and this was a little community suffering from rain delayed harvest which meant this was the place they went when they couldn’t work and we were knackered for the first three months.” 

 Their first day off was Xmas Day and they slept through it. There’re four strands to the business: the bar, the kitchen, the accommodation and a café which usually opens Wednesday to Sunday but is currently closed because they just can’t find the staff. They’ve renovated the beer garden, some of the rooms and are now focussing on heritage grants to help restore the stunning upstairs veranda. 

     Without gambling, this is a pub where people meet and talk. This is a pub where community is involved and recognized. 

    Sitting back in Lockhart’s Commercial Hotel at the end of a hot Friday, I ponder again the mystery of shear trees. But watching Deb and Darren serve the locals, the regulars and the blow-ins with smiles and enquires as to how their days have been, it’s no mystery why the business is humming. 

 If only all Commercial breaks were as enjoyable!