The day is perfect out at Glenapp, a tiny little outpost a few kilometres south of Rathdowney.
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The sun is bright and, despite sweat beading off his forehead, Rob Sibson, 69, is full of energy as he excitedly shows off the rich history of the Glenapp railway station.
Mr Sibson, an unabashedly passionate bloke, sifts through and points out hundreds of photos, news clippings and mementos that he keeps meticulously preserved and catalogued.
All of them have a little story attached, and he recounts many of them with unbridled affection.
There is a lot to show, and tell, and Mr Sibson clearly revels in it.
Why? Because the remnants of Glenapp railway station are his pride, his passion, his childhood and his paradise all rolled into one.
Earlier this year, the Glenapp railway station celebrated its 86th birthday and for Mr Sibson and his equally dedicated brother Dennis – popularly known as the Glenapp Boys – it was a time for reflection.
In 1948, Mr Sibson – then just a young boy – moved to Glenapp with his family so his father Reg could take up a job as water pumper for the steam engines that frequently passed through the tiny station.
Glenapp was a small but tight-knit village back then – five modest timber homes used to sit clustered around the railway tracks.
For 12 years, the family of seven lived a happy life at the foothills of the Macpherson Range, playing in the nearby creek, helping Reg on the rail line or attending school at the now-defunct Glenapp State School.
If supplies were needed, the boys would hope for a lift – if not, it was an 11-kilometre hike to Rathdowney.
A new job for Reg in Sydney meant the Sibson family moved away from Glenapp in 1960, but that was not the end of their extraordinary relationship with this out of the way place.
Glenapp railway station lived on in the proceeding decades, though its importance as a key stopping point along the Sydney to Brisbane line diminished as train technology improved.
Slowly, elements of the station were torn down or moved elsewhere, beginning with those five wooden homes.
Eventually, when it was no longer necessary, the small station building was shifted to its new home at Rathdowney’s visitor information centre.
In 2007, the Australian Rail Track Corporation finally decommissioned the Glenapp signal box in favour of a centralised electronic signal system.
It could have been the end for the Glenapp railway station, but the Glenapp Boys had other ideas.
The timber signal box remained – one of only a handful left in Australia – and the original water tanks still stood proudly on the side of the tracks like they had done for decades.
That was enough of a starting point for the brothers.
With these relics intact and years of happy memories, the Glenapp boys were determined to honour the place that defined them.
Though it was land completely owned by Queensland Rail, the boys volunteered their time and, with the blessing of QR officials, they got to work.
Keen to return the signal box to its former glory, the Glenapp Boys stripped it down from the inside and removed its decaying skeleton.
To this day, they are still at it.
Each Friday, without fail, the duo pack up a ute full of supplies and travel from the Gold Coast in rain, hail or shine to set up camp not far from that iconic signal box.
It is their pride and joy. They mow, kill weeds, paint, repair whatever needs to be fixed and sit around a campfire soaking up the isolation, the memories, and the stunning surrounds.
Their dedication is immediately clear when you drive down the bumpy path to the site of the signal box and are struck by the immaculate presentation.
We just don’t want the place to die. It’s paradise. I just have a passion for this place like no other. I’ve been around the world, I’ve been to Milan, to Berlin, I’ve been everywhere, but there’s nothing like this. I just love it,
- Rob Sibson, one half of the 'Glenapp Boys'
Hundreds of metres of grass that lines the track, once knee-high and laden with weeds, is now green, lush and cut to precision.
That iconic signal box looks a treat from the outside, and inside is full of historical photographs stretching back right to the very beginning of the Glenapp story.
At Christmas time, the boys dress the signal box up in fairy lights, reindeers, tinsel and a huge Merry Christmas sign, simply to give the passing train drivers a lift as they trundled past.
Mr Sibson said the Glenapp boys’ extraordinary dedication to Glenapp railway station was about ensuring a unique part of their lives – and Scenic Rim history – was kept alive long after he and Dennis are gone.
“We just don’t want the place to die.
“That’s why we put the effort into promote it and keep the dream alive.”
“I just have a passion for this place like no other.
“I’ve been around the world, I’ve been to Milan, to Berlin, I’ve been everywhere, but there’s nothing like this.”
Mr Sibson revealed he wore some grief for his deep love of Glenapp, with some people thinking it was strange, but said he didn’t care what people thought.
“This here costs nothing,” he said.
“It’s not mine, I don’t have to will it to anyone, nobody can come and take it. It’s just a passion that will never die.”
To follow the story of the Glenapp railway station, visit www.facebook.com/GlenappRailwayStationFriends
The story ‘Dedicated to Glenapp station’ originally appeared on Queensland Country Life.