They say you should never forget where you came from. But out here at Stonehenge Gully in Central West Queensland, the land has a way of erasing everything it does not like. It swallows history in a haze of heat and red dust, leaving only the toughest bones behind. When you stand on the edge of the scrub at Stonehenge Gully, you realise that the outback does not care about your plans. It only cares about your grit.
Take a good look at the horizon. This is the official start of Stonehenge Gully. Over 30 years I have been on this side of the ditch, and I have spent every one of them earning this view. I did my time on the Gold Coast and in the humid sprawl of Brisbane, trading sweat for every cent I have got. I am an ex sparky by trade, I have spent decades pulling cable through suffocating roof spaces, wiring up other people’s dreams, and putting hot points up customers back passages while removing their shorts. Don’t get me started on plumbers and plasterers.
It was a living, but it was not a life. Now, I am finally standing in the red dirt of Stonehenge Gully with my own set of plans and a whole lot of ambition.
The Survivor: A Monument to the Swindlers
The only thing standing when I pulled up the handbrake on the ute at Stonehenge Gully was this old wooden Thunderbox. It is the sole survivor of a history I am still unravelling. The story goes that the original homestead did not just crumble, it was burnt down to the waterline when the locals ran the last owners out of town. Apparently, they were ripping people off down the road at Guinnessvale, and the outback has a very specific way of handling a lack of integrity.
That rickety long drop stands here like a lonely sentry. It is a gritty reminder of what happens when you do not play fair in the scrub. I am here to carry on the history of Stonehenge Gully, but I am planning on a much different ending. I am not here to swindle anyone; I am here to build something that lasts longer than a campfire. Restoration of the mana of this land starts with me.
The View from the Ridge: Guinnessvale vs The Gully
If you head four hour down the track, you will hit Guinnessvale. If you ask the people there, they will tell you they are royalty. Why? Because they have a town pool and a footy club. They are the silver spoons of the middle of nowhere. I see the tradies down there every time I pass through to get supplies for Stonehenge Gully. They are all huddled around the pool tuck shop, sipping lattes and talking about the weekend’s footy like they have forgotten what real work looks like.
They like their comforts. They like their tidy little rules and their padded lives. They probably look at a bloke like me, a dusty Kiwi with a tool bag and a dream for Stonehenge Gully, and see a retired tradesman looking to fade away into the heat haze.
Let them think that. While they are doing laps in the town pool and sipping on their decaf soy lattes with skinny froth, I am out here at Stonehenge Gully marking pegs in ground that is harder than a Brisbane sidewalk.
Stonehenge Gully Stage 1: Introducing The Batch
The main plans for Stonehenge Gully are already drawn. They are thick, detailed, and currently tucked safely under the seat of the ute where no prying eyes can find them. We are not starting with the grand vision yet. Every great outback building project needs a beachhead, and mine is Stage One.
Back home in New Zealand, we would call it The Batch. Growing up, a batch is a place where you strip life back to the essentials, a place you’d holiday over Christmas and eat Cabin Bread with a thick layer of peanut butter, jam, honey or corned beef. My version of The Batch at Stonehenge Gully is a simple start, a four bunk build. It is designed to be the basecamp, just enough shelter to survive the first brutal summer in Central West Queensland and give a few workers a place to rest their heads after a twelve hour shift in the sun.
As an ex sparky, you can bet the wiring in The Batch will be more than it seems. It will be tight, it will be bloody hot, and it will be functional. And if the council inspectors from Guinnessvale ever decide to make the four hour trek out to Stonehenge Gully to ask questions about my off grid construction… well, let’s just say we are still “waiting on the stamps.”
The Road Ahead for Troy Spro
I am just a simple man trying to make a go of it. The line is in the sand. The old homestead is a pile of ash, but something new is rising from the red dirt of Stonehenge Gully. This is not just an outback building project; it is a reset. This is Central West Queensland at its rawest, and I am ready for the challenge.
Wish us luck. You are going to need it more than me. Make sure to come back to keep an eye on what’s going on.
