Nugget & I loaded up the 4WD in Western Sydney and gunned it for the Coonamble Rodeo and Campdraft, hyped as NSW’s biggest rodeo. Hamish dangled the invite, and since the internet was as useful as a the average plumbing apprentice, I figured we’d see it for ourselves. The plan: a six-hour haul, a steamy stop at Burren Junction’s hot bore bath, and then diving into the rodeo chaos. Here’s the dirt, with a few lessons learned and a lot of dust.
Check out the Coonamble Rodeo and Burren Junction YouTube Episode
A Quick Feed in Mudgee
We swung by Mudgee Brewing Co. to meet Hamish. It’s a top spot - cold beers, proper pizzas, and they don’t care if Nugget’s sprawled under the table. Perfect for shaking off Sydney’s traffic and getting your head right for the long drive. Unlike that servo where you’re basically bankrolling the owner’s new ute, Mudgee’s a fair decent breather. After a beer and a feed, we hit the road, ready to chew up the k’s.

Burren Junction: Steamy Vibes
Rolled into Burren Junction at 9:00 PM, half-cooked from the drive. This tiny town, smack on the Great Artesian Basin, has a hot bore bath that’s like slipping into a warm embrace - only less awkward than your mate’s missus trying to cop a feel at the pub. The place was a madhouse, like a caravan park got frisky with a used car lot and made a mess. I’ve crashed here plenty, but it’s never been this rammed, with 4WDs and vans packed tighter than a camel's ass in a sandstorm.

The bath closes at 9:00, but the caretaker, a bloody legend, let us sneak in for a dip. The water’s toasty, straight from the earth’s core, and it’s pure bliss for a body aching from too many k’s. Just don’t bring glass bottles - no one needs a Sydney glassing in a regional bath. We camped by the road, where the sunrise hits harder than a hangover after a dodgy pub crawl. Nugget was sniffing the breeze while I cracked a tinny to kick off the day, living my outback truth, as far from the city crap as you can get.

It’s a $5 donation to keep the joint running — pay the caretaker or hit the box. Got spare cans? Toss ‘em in the recycling; it’s either for the campground or the caretaker’s next shout. And skip Walgett. Saw a sign for it — trust me, the locals are not throwing a welcome to country for you. Keep rolling to Coonamble.
Firewood and Coonamble Madness
Before Coonamble, we pulled over on some crown land to nab firewood. Scored a few decent logs - nothing to write home about, but enough to keep a fire going without sweet-talking the neighbours for scraps. If you’re hitting an event like this, pack your own wood; the showground’s not dishing out kindling like it’s Christmas..

We hit the Coonamble Showground, where the rodeo and campdraft pull in 1,000 competitors and 4,000 punters. The campsite was a zoo - tents, utes, and 4WDs wedged in like they were playing twister after spotting some pineapple stickers. I’m more into quiet camps like my recent trip to Barrington Tops, so this was a kick in the guts. We tried to nab a spot near grey nomads to dodge the worst of it, but I still lost Nugget’s jacket on the way in. Found it the next day - I'll take the small wins after getting as much sleep as a someone that's left on the red light.
Coonamble Rodeo: Grit, Noise, and Too Much Racket
The rodeo was a proper spectacle. Day one had saddle bronc, bareback, campdraft and barrel racing - cowboys bursting out of chutes, kicking up dust like they’re auditioning for a Mad Max sequel. Day two brought more of it where riders cut a steer from a herd with moves smoother than a barmaid’s wink. It’s a big deal, 70 years running with $30,000 in rodeo prize money, and the kids’ classes were a cracker - some 12-year-old was wrestling steers like he’d been at it since birth.

But here’s the truth: it was too wild for me. The campsite was louder than a P plater on redhead beach — kids banging pots, revheads flogging engines, and music that’d make Nugget howl if she wasn’t so laid-back. She handled it like a pro, but I was ready to trade my wristband for a pair of earplugs. If you’re keen, check for a quieter night — Saturday was like a bucks party that forgot to book a stripper. A few tips:
- Know the Rules: Rodeo and campdraft have odd rules, like the “10-meter rule” for steer wrestling. I was clueless till Hamish spelled it out. Nobody explains it on-site, so do your homework.
- Food and Drink: Festival grub was $8-$20 and mostly ordinary. A $20 pizza tasted like it was made by someone who'd rather be on the dole, but the $12 lamb rolls weren’t bad. Beers were $6 for mid-strength, $12 for full-strength RTDs - cheaper than a Sydney footy match. Some blokes sneak in their own grog, but don’t act like you’re running a bar.
- Bathrooms and Access: Portaloos were about as pleasant as a warm esky, but the wristband lets you duck back to camp anytime. Pass-ins and pass-outs are a free-for-all.

Dogs at Coonamble Rodeo?
Can you bring your dog? Not officially, but country gigs like this have a loose rule: if your dog’s leashed, quiet, and not eyeing off the cattle, you’re usually sweet. Heaps of dogs were around the campsite, and Nugget was fine in & out of the showground. If you’re crashing at a spot like Coonamble Riverside Caravan Park, the grey nomads claim it’s a ripper spot if you have a few more years under the belt.

Hitting the Road

By the last day, the campsite was thinning out, and I was itching to bolt. The rodeo was a good laugh—gritty, dusty, and full of outback spirit. If you’ve never done one, give it a go for the campdraft alone. But the party vibe? Not my scene. I’d rather be back at Burren Junction, soaking in that hot bath till I’m wrinkled like a franfurt in a cold shower, or parked somewhere quiet with just Nugget and the 4WD, far from the doof-doof nonsense.
This trip was far from the classic Wolf & Nugget—chasing tracks, finding hidden gems, and dodging rowdy crowds but it was definitely an experience. Got a better rodeo or campsite yarn? Hit me up in the comments.
Till the next dirt road,
Wolf & Nugget