A horse walks into a bar... No joke! These tales really happened

But have you ever actually seen a horse in a pub?

You'd think in today's world, which is very much centred on the motor car, the answer would be no.

But I've witnessed it at least twice in our region.

First at the Bushranger Hotel in Collector (currently closed) on the 150th anniversary of the day in 1865 when the Ben Hall Gang held up the infamous watering hole and fatally shot Samuel Nelson, the village constable.

Following a more than realistic re-enactment of the tragic event in 2015, one of the actors rode his horse straight into the front bar and ordered a drink.

Of course, even in control of a horse, if you travel along a public road, you also need to stay under 0.05, so I'm sure he only indulged in a light beer.

The well-oiled patrons at the bar took it all in their stride (or should that be gallop). Maybe it's not that rare an occurrence. Come to think of it, maybe that's just how the folk in Collector roll, for a few years later I spotted two llamas sipping on lattes (actually, I'm sure it was just water) at the local café.

My second equine encounter was at Captains Flat where, while I was photographing the town's main drag last year, I noticed Jo Brissenden ride up to the pub on Copper, her 15-year-old mare.

"Copper just had a drink at the water trough, and now it's my turn, I'm thirsty," she deadpanned.

The publican at the time stated that horses weren't allowed in the bar, pointing emphatically to the sign which states so. While Copper did steal a peek through the saloon door, Jo had to settle quenching her thirst on the foot path.

The pub has since changed hands and reopens this weekend under new ownership of Sharanne Witt. No word yet on any change of the "no horses" policy.

Meanwhile, regular readers may recall this column's recent exposé on the Royal Hotel at Bungendore and the 1949 photo featuring a group of men drinking at the bar. Among the men was as ghostly image of someone that no one remembers being present at the time the photo was taken.

The online version of the article featured a photograph of a young Darryl Southwell riding Bonny, his four-year-old mare, into the pub as part of the landmark drinking hole's centenary celebrations in 1982.

"That's dad and Bonny!" exclaimed Darryl's daughter Leonie who promptly showed her father the photo.

Despite 42 years since his daring ride, Darryl remembers the day vividly.

In fact, it wasn't the only pub he rode into that day.

"Earlier in the day I rode around the pool tables at the Bottom Pub (now the Lake George Hotel) and the publican told me in no uncertain terms to "Get your bloody horse out of here!"

No doubt due to the 100th celebrations, they were more welcoming at the Top Pub [the Royal].

"I was actually a bit nervous as a I rode through the front bar as it was chock-a-block with people and Bonny wasn't long broken in, so I didn't know if she'd kick anyone of not," quips Darryl. Heck!

"After riding through the Top Bar, I rode in a circle in the Back Bar and had a yarn to all the people," recalls Darryl. "Back in them [sic] days everyone knew each other around town, and I knew all the drinkers like Butch Daniels, George Rowley and the old fellas.

"Thankfully Bonny behaved and the next day when the photo of Bonny and I at the Top Pub appeared in The Canberra Times I took it into Bob at the Bottom Pub and said, 'See, you shouldn't have kicked me out, you would have got some free advertising'."

That photo still takes pride of place in Darryl's scrapbook.

So, would Darryl do it again?

"Probably not," he states. "Firstly, I live out of town a bit now, and secondly, given the state of the roads these days, we'd either get bogged or my horse would break a leg."

As to that ghost photo: Readers suggested many theories to explains the so-called ghost, including it being a shadow image of the man in the hat seated to his right. "Darkish room, long exposure, someone moved," asserts Marc Dawson.

Caitrin J. agrees. "I suspect the 'ghost' is simply the patron's image having been inadvertently partially replicated somehow during the photographic process, but it's a valuable piece of history in its own right, if nothing else, for the sheer interest it generates."

Several readers including Jeremy Lee of Kaleen believe they have solved the mystery as to why the date of death of Jack McMahon, the Royal Hotel's first publican, appears to have been changed from August 30 to August 33.

"I don't think it's an error at all," states Jeremy, adding, "he may have been a freemason".

According to Jeremy, "the Thirty-third Degree is conferred upon those members of the Thirty-second Degree who have been outstanding in their contributions to Freemasonry, the Scottish Rite, or who have shown in their communities the leadership which marks them as men who exemplify in their daily lives the true meaning of the Brotherhood of man under the Fatherhood of God".

"Perhaps Jack was granted this status and his family wanted it inscribed in stone," he suggests.

Well, it's as good a theory as any.

The apparent error on Jack McMahon's headstone prompted Marcia Church of Goulburn to share a tale of woe stemming from a simple clerical error that she claims temporarily cost an ancestor his freedom.

In 1813, her great-great-great grandfather, a Mr Trinder, was sentenced to seven years for minor theft, in Oxford, England, and transported to NSW.

"When he completed his sentence in 1820, he applied for his Certificate of Freedom," reports Marcia.

So far so good. Yes?

Thinking he was a free man, Trinder boarded a ship back to England.

However, much to his horror, on arrival back in the old dart, Trinder was immediately arrested, authorities claiming there was no Certificate of Freedom in his name.

A shocked Trinder was duly transported back to Sydney and thrown into the slammer again.

READ MORE TIM THE YOWIE MAN:

According to a letter Trinder penned to the NSW governor from his holding cell in 1821, he blames the clerk with whom he'd lodged his details to obtain his 'Certificate of Freedom' the year before for creating confusion as to his identity.

"In the letter he clarified that his surname was Trinder, not Trindell, as he discovered the clerk had erroneously written on the Certificate of Freedom," Marcia says.

"I spoke with several genealogists ... who all said that the clerks of the day would write 'as they heard it'," reports Marcia. "So if someone had an accent or a lilt in their speech it was common for mistakes to happen. It was also common that clerks weren't the best at spelling."

Sadly, to date Marcia has been unable to find any correspondence regarding replies from the governor, nor when poor Trinder was eventually emancipated.

Rating: Easy

Cryptic Clue: You can read all about the answer next week

How to enter: Email your guess along with your name and address to tym@iinet.net.au. The first correct email sent after 10am, Saturday June 29 wins a double pass to Dendy, the Home of Quality Cinema.

Last week: Oh dear, I've done it again. Disappointingly, not one single reader was able to correctly identify the photo of the two bus shelters which are located at the corner of Eucumbene Road and Kosciuszko Road between Berridale and Jindabyne. "That new shelter, wherever it is, isn't exactly well suited to the extremes of Snowy Mountains weather," writes John Smithers of Kaleen. Indeed. In fact, every time I drive past, the yellow one is deserted, while often there are a few hardy souls seeking shelter in the older concrete bunker.

Most readers agree with Kevin Mulcahy of Tura Beach that 'The Capitol Canberra' dish in the collection of Barry Snelson of Calwell likely hails from the former Capitol Café (Refreshment Rooms) in East Row, Civic, which was owned by Jack Cassidy and Theo Notaras. "I very much doubt The Capitol Theatre would have had a need for such crockery as it only had a milk bar for milk shakes, ice-creams and sweets such as Jaffas and Minties."

There's been no shortage of correspondence about rolling Jaffas and Kool Mints down the aisles at the landmark theatre. "They'd ding on cast seat supports as they rolled down the timber floor," reports self-confessed serial Jaffa-roller Graham "Willow" Williams of Burra.

Sure, it may not be in a pub, but check out this "person on a horse" snapped at Tidbinbilla by Canberra bushwalker John Evans. Giddy up!