Long Tunnel Extended Gold Mine

Walhalla used to have a gold mine.  A few of them, actually.  We go on a tour of the Long Tunnel Extended Gold mine, which was the biggest, and most profitable.  Incidentally, it's the only mine that offers tours.  Entrances to all the other mines are closed off with heavily padlocked doors.

Just walking down the tunnel itself (actually, up the tunnel) is an amazing experience - seeing the light at the end of the tunnel (behind us) get smaller and smaller.  Eventually the tunnel forks, and we gaze up the left fork, the smaller fork - it just begs to be investigated.  We continue up the right fork into a huge double chamber - the size of a small house.

Here, our guide, Sheriff, explains to us how water continually seeps into the mine, and had to be pumped out. They had serious boilers in this chamber to provide the energy to pump this water out, and they had chimneys going directly from this chamber up 130m to the surface to get rid of all the smoke. Well they had all sorts of problems with debris dropping down said chimney, due to the heat of the smoke. So they lined it with bricks. Can you imagine? Working inside a chimney, 130m tall, merely 4 feet wide, lining it with bricks?

Sheriff shows us a map of all the tunnels, and where the gold was found. My jaw drops, because I realise that we are in the very top, very first tunnel. We're at the tunnel's end, where a shaft drops down 923m! That's almost a kilometre! Straight down, towards the centre of the earth. And this was dug out in the late 1800's, with relatively primitive tools! But the even more amazing thing is that there are tens of tunnels extending horizontally left and right off this shaft! Think about it. Kilometres and kilometres of tunnels, deep down under the earth. No light at the end of those tunnels. And that's where the gold was dug out from. All 13.7 tonnes of it.

I move away from the group, and find the shaft in a corner of the chamber. It's been sealed off, and made into a bit of a display. Behind the glass, on the right I can see a miner on a ladder. Blue uniform, a miner's lamp. Next to him, there is a trolley full of ore. The trolley is sitting in a cage - this is the real shaft, the big 1km hole in the ground. The trolley has wheels. I gaze down at the ground - I am standing on a pair of rails. Like train tracks. I gaze back down the tunnel - the train tracks run all the way to the end of that tunnel.

My mind comes alive. I can see trolleys being hauled up, being released from the cage and pushed down the tunnel, towards the light. They rattle as they roll. Men toil hard, feeding wood into the boilers, and getting trolleys out of the cage, their faces beading with sweat. I entertain visions from one of the Indiana Jones movies. A sneaky smile creeps onto my face.

Sabina, curious, comes over. She sees the miner behind the glass. "Mama, is he alive?", her eyes widen with childlish disbelief. I am so, so tempted to say "yes", but I resist. She is so innocent in her concern for the poor miner behind the glass.

"So, 20m below us is the water table", Sheriff's voice bellows over our thoughts. "And 300m below us are the stables." Sabina pricks up her ears. "Just before they closed the mine, they sent all the school kids in here, disassembled as much as they could and brought it up to the surface. Then they shot the ponies, got everyone out, and turned everything off. The entire mine flooded, and now we can only get 20m down the shaft." If you thought Sabina's eyes were big when she saw the miner, you should see them now. "But why did they shoot the pony?", she asks.

"We spoke to one of the women who, as a schoolgirl was sent into the mine to help disassemble equipment", Sheriff continues. "She said that there were trolleys loaded with ore. There is no evidence that those trolleys ever made it up to the surface. So we know there is gold down there." Everyone gets a little twinkle in their eye. Gold talks in mysterious ways. Sabina, tugs at my sleeve. "But Mama, why did they shoot they pony?".

Finally we turn back down the passage. There is light at the end of the tunnel. Sabina leads us out of the mine. The tour is over, but the question "why did they shoot the pony?" haunts us for the remainder of the day.

Walhalla Railway

We are spending the weekend in Walhalla, an old gold mining town. Sabina has already told all her school friends on Friday that she is off to "Walhalla-halla" for the weekend. Very cute.

Our first attraction is the Walhalla Railway.

When we arrive at the station, the train is already waiting.  Sabina gets all excited, jumping up and down, while I purchase tickets.  The train has two carriages pulled by a diesel engine.  The carriages have windows, which have all been dropped down, so the air in the train, is as fresh as outside the train.

The station master goes ahead with the full protocol of whistle, "All aboard!", wave the green flag, and we're off.  Sabina is jumping up and down with joy, sticking her neck out of the window, and grinning from ear to ear.

The train moves off slowly, and the red carriages creak and groan.  I poke my head out of the window too, and admire the creek below us.  We're in a deep gorge, with the road cutting a straight line somewhere up above us.  "There's brumbies up there", comments Sabina.

The valley is green and lush with ferns.  The train track is cut into the side of the hill.  As I look ahead, I can only see the rocky mountainside, that seems to suddenly disappear.  It looks like the train might just continue straight, and run off the edge.  But, it doesn't.  At the last moment, I see the green engine turn left, hugging the side of the mountain.

Another time, it looks like we might well scrape a rocky ledge.  It passes within hand's reach.  It's better than a Disneyland ride. 

We pass a tiny station called "Happy Valley", and eventually we cross the Thomson river, and end up at Thomson.  Here we have a chance to jump off and explore for a few minutes.  Visions of Menzies Creek station and their devine devonshire teas come whafting to me from the past.  The whistle of the train, now turned for home, brings me back to the present.  We board, and re-live the journey back to Walhalla.  Sabina's enthusiasm is unabating.

Finger tips

My finger tips have gone numb. It's yet another taxotere side effect. It didn't just happen now. It happened somewhere around chemo 5. But the side effect is still with me. Charming.

Not only are they numb, but they are very dry as well. And sensitive too.

So far it has cost me one jar, one glass and one dish. Yes, slipped out of my fingers, hit the floor and crash. And all along I could have sworn that I was holding onto it tight.

It also makes typing a little bit difficult. Pressing the keypad on the phone is quite a challenge - mainly due to the sensitivity. One week I use one hand, then it gets too sensitive, and I have to work the phone with the other hand.

Doing up buttons? Now this is a real joke. Because I can't feel what I am doing, I have to be watching. So I cannot do up buttons around my neck without the help of a mirror. And even when I am watching it's a very slow process. Doing up buttons on shirt cuffs is simply impossible - someone else has to help me.

My other finger tip issue is plastic container lids. The sensitivity makes it a real struggle to open plastic lids - as in, it really hurts. So I have to do it slowly, and with patience. And preferably not too many per day.

Naturopath's verdict

Before I started chemo I was 39 years old, and my naturopath did an AMSAT test on me. The report showed that I am about 37 years old.

Now, having finished chemo I am still 39, but AMSAT now says that I am 50! (And I feel it too!)

I cried for two days after getting that news.

Naturopath to the rescue

When I last saw my oncologist I complained about the ongoing numbness in my finger tips, and pins and needles in my hands and arms. The numbness in my finger tips is expected, and otherwise he gave me a blank look.

I took the pins and needles problem to my naturopath. Within a second he grabbed my arm, and squeezed it just below the elbow.

"Does that hurt?", he asked as he squeezed the muscle of my forearm.

"Yes!"

"What about the pins and needles?", he continued.

"They're gone."

Then he squeezed the side of my neck - the pins and needles left my arm.

"Just give those areas a good massage, and keep eating all that protein, so those muscles can recover." That was the final word on that topic. Then he got onto fixing other things.

Eating in recovery

I haven't been writing too much recently (last couple of posts excepted). There are a few good reasons for this. Firstly I have returned to work - just two days per week. Two days is plenty! Most of the rest of the time is spent eating, preparing food, and resting. Okay, okay ... I do find time to ride horses. But honestly, I've become a bottomless pit. At least where food is concerned. So when I am not eating, I am busy shopping for, and preparing, the next meal.

A typical day can consist of - two egg omlette for breakfast, two pieces of fish for morning tea, double serve of bolognese sauce (with veggies, no pasta) for lunch, chicken shnitzel (about 250g) and veggies for dinner, salad, and apple crumble for dessert. Add to that three protein shakes, and a magnesium drink, plus a variety of other supplements.

When I only ate fish on Good Friday, I suffered so much from lack of protein, that it took me two days to recover. When we were on holiday in Merimbula, I ate fancy desserts for three days in a row and felt totally sick for two days afterwards.

So what does it mean when I don't feel well? I feel dizzy and nauseaus for starters. I feel confused, and I cannot focus. I feel tired - my muscles are throbbing like they've done a 100km bike ride. Sometimes, I can't sleep, but I don't feel rested. I feel wrung out and anxious instead. I get pins and needles in my arms and hands. And ... the best one of the lot ... I feel irritated. Very, very irritated. Irrationally irritated.

Add a solid serve of protein and veggies for a couple of days (at least) and these symptoms subside. Phew!

Hair update

The good news is, the hair is coming back. Pretty much everywhere. Including my fingers (between knuckle and first joint). What?!

I am not sure whether the hair on my fingers fell out or not. It wasn't really an area of hair I paid much attention to. But I gazed down the other day, and there is all this black fuzz on my fingers. It looks positively ... well ... (and I don't mean to be racist here) ... Greek! If my fingers are so meditteranean, then what about my chin? I rushed off to the mirror. Yep, just as I had suspected. Long black hairs all over my chin. Out came the tweezers.

While I was at the mirror I checked out my mane. All good here. A few more greys than I thought I had, but otherwise it's growing back thick and dark. Despite reports from people, that hair after chemo grows back thick and quick, my hair is not growing back quick. How can it? My body is so deprived of vitamins and minerals, that growing hair at all is an added bonus. I estimate that I am about two months away from sporting a "hair style". In the meantime, I've kissed the wig goodbye.

Eyelashes - gorgous. No complaints. Thick, even, beautiful. But eyebrows? What's going on here? They are growing back in two rows! It looks like I have a set of train tracks above each eye. Actually, let me correct that. I have a set of train tracks above the right eye. But above the left eye, the train tracks sort of start half way across the eye. Weird.