Imagine stepping onto a bowling green where the surface temperature soars to a staggering 86.75°C—more than double the air temperature on an already scorching 40°C day. This isn’t just uncomfortable; it’s a stark reminder of the urgent need for urban heat mitigation. For Ian Von Stanke, a passionate lawn bowls player in Mount Gambier, South Australia, this is a reality he knows all too well. “The heat seeping through the bottom of your shoes is unbelievable,” he shares. But here’s where it gets even more eye-opening: this extreme heat isn’t just a problem for bowlers—it’s a growing crisis for urban areas everywhere.
Mr. Von Stanke, who plays regularly in the region, isn’t surprised by these alarming temperatures. “It’s the heat radiating up from the ground into your face that’s the real killer,” he explains. His experience was recently validated when the South Australian State Emergency Service (SES) deployed a drone equipped with thermal imaging over Mount Gambier. The results were jaw-dropping: the bowling green’s surface temperature clocked in at 86.75°C, a figure that underscores the severity of urban heating.
But here’s where it gets controversial: while we often hear about urban heat in sprawling cities like western Sydney, smaller regional towns like Mount Gambier are just as vulnerable—if not more so. And this is the part most people miss: it’s not just about uncomfortable temperatures; it’s about health risks, infrastructure strain, and the need for smarter urban planning.
South Australian SES chief remote pilot Brad Flew stumbled upon these insights during a routine drone test flight. “It was a chance to see how drones could measure heat in ways we hadn’t before,” he said. The thermal imaging revealed surprising hotspots, from astroturf to concrete, highlighting how urban surfaces trap and amplify heat. “Seeing the temperature disparities across different materials was eye-opening,” Mr. Flew added.
Urban heating occurs when surfaces like concrete and bitumen absorb and retain heat, making communities significantly warmer than the actual air temperature. Paul Cheung, a postdoctoral researcher at Western Sydney University, explains, “These non-living surfaces not only absorb more sunlight than living surfaces like grass but also fail to absorb water, which could otherwise cool the area.” Trees and grass, on the other hand, transpire, using absorbed water to naturally lower temperatures.
Here’s a thought-provoking question: Are our cities designed to combat heat, or are they inadvertently making it worse? Abby Mellick Lopes, a professor at the University of Technology Sydney, points out that many urban planning practices are outdated. “We’re still building European-style houses that aren’t suited to our climate,” she says. Her solution? More shade trees. “The SES images clearly show cooler areas where tree canopies exist—it’s a no-brainer.”
For bowlers like Mr. Von Stanke, the heat is more than an inconvenience—it’s a safety hazard. He’s been advocating for localized heat policies in bowls competitions on the Limestone Coast. Currently, games are only canceled if temperatures in Naracoorte (an hour north of Mount Gambier) reach 37°C, but there are no such rules for tournaments. “We recently played a tournament where three or four players collapsed,” he recalls. His own heat-beating strategies include wetting a rag to wear under his hat and lining his shoes with reflective material from wine casks.
As towns like Mount Gambier continue to grow, the need for proactive urban heat solutions becomes increasingly critical. From smarter planning to innovative cooling methods, the time to act is now. What do you think? Are we doing enough to tackle urban heat, or is this a crisis waiting to boil over? Share your thoughts in the comments—let’s spark a conversation that could shape cooler, safer communities.
