Coals in the grate, cards on the classing table
The wool went out of this shed forty years ago and the sorting benches never left. We cook over ironbark coals at the loading end and deal cards at the other. There is no app, no account and nothing to play online — you have to walk in the door.
A wool store that stopped classing and started cooking
Bales came off the Western Plains, up Macquarie Street and through these doors for the better part of a century. The sawtooth roof, the hoist and four classing benches were all still standing when we took the lease, so we worked around them instead of tearing them out.
The grate went in where the wool press used to sit, because that corner already had a flue cut through the roof. The tables went down the long side, under the skylights, where the light used to be good enough to grade a fleece by.
We fit about seventy people before the shed gets loud, and a loud shed ruins both halves of the idea. When the book fills, it fills.
Eight tables
Four of them the original classing benches, re-topped in green felt.
One grate
Ironbark and redgum coals, lit at three, cooked on until close.
Six on the floor
Two on the coals, two behind the bar, two walking the room.
Eight benches, green felt, nothing riding on a hand
Card games here are social in the strict sense of the word. Nobody buys in, nobody cashes out, and there is no pot to win. The chips are the shed's, they count points for the evening, and they are worth exactly nothing when the lights come up.
Four tables are the original benches — heavy, marked, and slightly out of square after a hundred years. Four are new and level, which is where anyone learning usually ends up sitting.
The hoist above table six still works. It lifts nothing these days, but it is the easiest landmark in the building when you are telling someone where to meet you.
Walk-up benches
Six tables seat whoever turns up, first in gets the chair.
Held benches
Two can be put aside by phone for groups up to seven.
Teaching hour
Wednesday at six, an hour, free, four seats a bench.
What people ask before they drive in
Is there anything to play on your website?
Nothing at all. There is no app, no login and no online room — the site is a shopfront for a shed on Macquarie Street and the games only exist inside it.
Do people play for money here?
No. Chips count points for the night, there is no pot, no entry fee, no prize money and no wagering of any kind on the premises.
Have you got pokies?
Not one machine. That is a deliberate choice and it is not under review.
Do I have to book?
For the grate, yes on Friday and Saturday. For a bench, no — six of the eight seat whoever arrives.
I have never held a hand of cards in my life.
Then come on a Wednesday. The teaching hour costs nothing, runs for an hour and is how half the regulars started.
Can I bring my teenagers if they only eat?
No. The whole floor is eighteen and over, benches and dining tables alike.
Lamb, roots and bread, all of it over coals
Everything on the board meets fire. Lamb from properties an hour out of town, carrots and beetroot buried straight in the embers, and bread baked in the wood oven each afternoon whether we need it or not.
The wine list stays inside the Central West — a couple of shirazes, a riesling that surprises people, and one sticky we keep for the end of a long table.
The grate goes cold at ten. After that the bar keeps pouring and the kitchen sends out bread, pickles and whatever cheese has not been finished.
Off the coals
Lamb shoulder, whole carrots, onions in their skins.
Out of the oven
Sourdough at four, flatbread on demand until ten.
In the glass
Nine Central West wines, three taps, no cocktail list.
Benches, coals and the roof above both
Five nights, and each one has its own temperament
Teaching hour at six, free, four seats to a bench
Quiet benches, staff deal if you want them to
Full shed, ring ahead if you want to eat
Shearing shed night, long tables from seven
Roast on the coals, early close, slow cards
Grate cleaned, flues swept
Nobody here but the deliveries
Where the shed is and when to ring
The shed
152 Macquarie Street, Dubbo NSW 2830
Phone and email
+61 2 6882 4416 · bookings@gumtreeplay.com
Open
Wednesday to Sunday, 5pm – 11.30pm
Six things we ask of everyone who walks in
- Eighteen and over, everywhere in the building, and staff will ask for photo ID whenever they feel like asking.
- The chips belong to the shed. They keep score, they are never sold, never bought back and never worth a cent.
- No money moves across a table here — not a side bet, not a wager between mates, not a note under a coaster.
- There are no gaming machines in this building and there will not be any; if pokies are what you came for, you have the wrong shed.
- Keep phones off the felt and take calls out by the loading doors, where the noise does not carry.
- We pour responsibly and we stop pouring when someone has had enough. That decision belongs to the person behind the bar.
What the shed stands for, stamped where you can read it
Wool bales left here under a stencil that said who packed them and what was inside. We kept the habit: three things about this place, painted by the entrance so nobody has to ask twice.
Ring the shed, tell us if you are eating or dealing
Someone picks up from three in the afternoon. Tell them how many, what time and whether you want a bench as well as a table, and it goes in the book on the wall.
Ring Macquarie Street