A farewell run to Araluen

25 June 2026 / Words by John Chapuis and Barry Matson. Photos by Lili Chi

June 10, 2026 at the township of Sutton, in NSW, but fast becoming a suburb of Canberra.

First the weather report. Early fog, but soon clearing to a typical crisp dry Canberra winter morning.

For the first run of the season six cars took off on time from the Bakery at Sutton. The plan called for the remainder to join at Bungendore.

In a display of fearless independence, Barry our run leader missed the first turn onto Macs Reef Road and preceded on his own towards Sydney. Not to be fooled, Tony in the next car, like Nelson at Copenhagen, judged the situation correctly, ignored his leader and turned anyway. After a slight delay, leadership resumed at the Mick Sherd rendezvous in Bungendore. Then it was off on the well beaten path through Braidwood to the tiny township of Araluen.

We have enjoyed runs to this historic village many times, but this may be our last. The Pub has closed down for sad family reasons, and does not look like re-opening. One hundred and fifty years ago, Araluen was at the centre of Australia’s Wild West, which would put to pale insignificance anything experienced in America around that time. Here they had bushrangers, stage coach hold-ups, bank robberies, Gold mines, hangings, aggressive natives, plenty of pubs, bars and saloons, gambling dens, and dozens of armed police. All that is left now is a few farm buildings, and the old hotel where we gathered.

It was time for lunch, but we had not come to Araluen for that. We came to remember our old mate Colin McNally who had recently left us. Colin was a good mate who loved to decorate his cars. He had blinged up his NC in the Art Deco style, and added some questionable adornments such a fox tail on the radio antenna and a AA powered hula dancer on the dash. That was typically Colin: funny and sometimes mysterious. It was often difficult to tell when he was being serious.

Colin had greatly enjoyed our previous runs to Araluen, and he had been nagging Barry to get on with this one for months. Sadly, he was not quick enough. Nevertheless, we all wanted to give Colin a proper send off, so we decided to make this a memorial run. His lovely granddaughter Lilly joined us to observe our tribute, and so did Rusty, a Groodle pup much loved by Colin. He would meet Rusty every Thursday with the men’s group at Hall. Often Colin prepared nice meals for Rusty. In return Rusty would send him a thank you e-mail, and also honor him with an aromatic gift which Colin could take home in a plastic bag.

Barry made a short speech remembering Colin, and then we back-tracked to the nearest pub at Major’s Creek. The scenery in this area is remarkable: rolling green pasture valleys studded with grazing cattle and framed by mountains in the distance. On this fine winter day, the views were breathtaking. However, it was difficult for the drivers to take all this in because the roads wound through the hills and valleys with some quite steep and tight corners that challenged the MX5 reputation for excellent road holding. As expected, every car held on in the MX5 manner.

The Pub lunch managed our group well and the food was adequate. After the usual raucous discussion and being replete, we made our way home under our own navigation. We hope Colin was watching.