MBW Walk magazine 1966 - Melbourne Bushwalkers

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No. 17 - 1966
WALK
DEDICATED TO ALL WHO
APPRECIATE THE GREAT OUTDOORS
Distribution: I. Phillips,
67 Glynden Rd.,
Camberwell.
Tel. 29 4016.
Advertising: R. G. Bittner,
49 Elizabeth St.,
Melbourne, C.l.
Tel. 62 1716.
Editor:
Club Room:
Room 110, Victorian Railways
Institute,
Railway Building,
Flinders St., Melbourne, C.I.
Friday
evening from
o'clock.
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to
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WALK is a voluntary, non-profit venture published by the Melbourne
Bushwalkers in the interests of bushwalking as a healthy and enjoyable
recreation.
In this issue you will find
Page
ARTICLES
So Much So Little . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
The Jeep Track . . . . . . . .
"This Beauteous Land" . . . .
Just South of the Border . . . .
To a Far Mountain . . . .
Tableland Trek . . . . . . . . . .
High Over the Howqua
Seeing What is Left . . . . . .
The Vale to the Sea . . . .
A World Apart . . . . . . . . . .
The Sunset Country . . . . . . . . . .
On Survey in the Simpson Desert
0
0
0
0
0
0
0
0
0
0
"Phoenix"
Margaret Thompson
Fred Halls
A. Schafer
P. Markus
Katherine Stock
0
0
0
0
0
0
0
0
0
0
0
0
0
0
0
0
0
0
Peter Ingram
M. Houston
John Siseman
Barry Short
0
0
0
0
3
4
7
8
16
30
34
41
42
46
50
54
SERVICE SECTION
Revision to Snake Bite Treatment
Mountain Muster . . . .
.. .. .. .. .. ..
New Maps . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Books for Bushwalkers ..
Tasmanian Newsletter . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
15
36
37
53
49
WALKS SECTION
Castlemaine-Golden Pt. Race-Expedition
Pass Reservoir . . . . . . . .
1 day
Bald Hill-Werribee River-Mt. Hope . . 1 day
Avonsleigh-Cockatoo Creek-Hultgren's
Bridge . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1 day
2 days .
Acheron River-Mt. Ritchie-Marysville
Walks Index . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
61
63
64
65
66
COVER PHOTO by Robert Steel.
PATRONISE OUR ADVERTISERS!
WALK can only be published with the assistance of our advertisers,
and we are grateful to them for their support. We urge all our readers
to support them whenever possible, and so help us to continue our efforts
in publishing this magazine.
Page Two
WAlK
so
MUCH
So Little
Bushwalkers of Melbourne should count themselves fortunate to live
in such a centre from where the lines of communication reach out to a
hinterland of varied landscape, scenery and climate. Mountain or plain,
lake or shore, snowfield or desert, Victoria can be likened to a microcosm,
or sample of the larger continent.
For those who delight in the ways of the outdoor life there is much
choice. Many walkers seem to like best the alpine pastures with their cool
breezes and rocky peaks, though some would explore the steep slopes of
mountain forests, while others prefer to ramble amid the sweet-scented
woodlands of the nearer foothills, or aspire to the grassy summit of
some not-so-long-extinct volcanic cone overlooking the long reaches of
the rolling lava plains, where unsuspected waterfalls splash merrily away
in basalt gorges.
Further afield stretch the swampy forests of riverland, the painted
deserts of red sand and mallee scrub, and in distant plateaux, patches
of dense jungle may even be found in the humid valleys. Undoubted
there is much variety in the scenery of the State.
However, the observant walker thinks not only of the natural scene,
but will also interest himself in the agricultural pursuits and methods
which he must certainly see at times. He will be particularly concerned
as to what effect both rural and secondary industry, and urbanization, is
having on the Bush. If he cares at all, he certainly will support all efforts
to preserve something of our truly wonderfully diversified landscape.
WALK
Page Three
THE
JEEP TRACK
by "Phoenix"
How many of us have stumbled up out of the depths of a gully
onto a familiar ridge to discover it newly crowned with a jeep track.
Those of the old school, which scorns such aids to walking curse, whilst
those who prefer their walking to be a little less difficult sigh with
relief. But all wonder why man's mechanical monsters in the form of
bulldozers should wander so far into the mountains tearing down the
scrub and leaving in their wake so rough a track. Is nothing sacred they
wonder? Cannot the mountains of the back country be left in their primitive state?
The answer is not hard to find. The track is there to provide ready
access for man in his annual battle against that scourge of the forestFIRE. And our jeep track has another use. It assists in the promotion
of fire. Why should the area which is burnt out by numerous fires every
year be extended further. Before we become too critical of such an
apparent anomaly let us consider the reasons behind it.
Every year some hundreds of thousands and sometimes millions of
acres of our forests are ravaged by fire. This annual incineration has
been occurring for thousands of years. Fire did not arrive in this land
with the white man. It existed long before the aborigines first peopled the
continent. Lightning started many fires which raged uncontrolled over
vast areas even as our present type forests evolved. In fact they evolved
in an environment of fire.
With the coming of man the incidence of fire increased. The black
man fired the bush for several reasons-to flush the game towards his
waiting spears, to frighten his enemies and to promote a lush growth of
grass to attract game.
Page
Four
WALK
an aid
to fire!
Photo by John Brownlie.
Mariners, such as Dampier, Cook and Flinders mentioned in their
journals, as they sailed around our coasts, that they saw large bushfires
burning inland. The early explorers including Oxley, Hovell, Mitchell
and Sturt reported sighting bushfires and seeing evidence of earlier fires
as they pushed back the frontiers of this then unknown land.
As settlement extended the white man found fire a convenient tool
to clear land for his crops and stock. What was perhaps the largest and
most destructive fire Victoria has ever known, the 1851 fire when the
State was alight from end to end, was, at least in part, attributable to
the early settlers.
A Royal Commissioner reported in 1900 that "On 6th February,
1851-'Black Thursday' the whole territory was on fire, from the north
east border to Mt. Gambier and from the coast line to the River Murray".
Other big fires occurred in 1886, 1898, 1919, 1926 and in 1939 when
more than one third of the state was burnt.
Following the 1939 disaster, fire policy in this state underwent a
radical change. Every fire, no matter how remote, was to be attacked
and suppressed. Burning off by settlers and others was rigidly controlled.
About 1960, this policy was found to be undesirable. Many fires
which started in long unburnt areas were extremely difficult to control.
WALK
Page Five
As well, the average area burnt per fire was rising alarmingly. The darnage done to the forest was also increasing.
A vigorous programme of research was initiated which quickly produced results. The scientists soon found that the damage to the forest was
directly related to the intensity of a fire, which in turn, was related to
the amount of combustible fuel on the forest floor.
The cautious policy of ruthlessly suppressing fire had boomeranged,
as the absence of fire over a long period of many areas had led to a
dangerously high build up of fuel in the forest. This was particularly
emphasised in February and March of this year when four fires, three
of them started by lightning, could not be contained and raged uncontrolled over almost one million acres of forest and farm lands.
To prevent a recurrence of such a disaster, large areas of forest
containing heavy fuel concentration must be broken up by a planned
programme of fuel reduction. This programme can only be effectively
carried out by the use of fire-the controlled use of fire.
This leads us back to our earlier questions. The jeep track assists by
forming a useful control line for the deliberate burning of the forest to
break up large areas of high fuel density. Using recently developed
techniques quite extensive areas are burnt in such a way that no damage
is done to the forest itself. The litter on the ground is burnt under
prescribed conditions. These prescriptions take into account temperature,
the relative humidity of the air, wind strength and the moisture content
of the litter. Fires are lit to a pre-determined pattern so that the area
to be burnt, is contained within specified control lines and burns out in
one day. Ideally, the separate small fires lit in the area should link up
and complete the job in the cool of the evening.
In rugged
the jeep track
from the ridge
burning is also
areas where this ideal system cannot be put into effect
serves as a line from which to let a fire trickle down
towards the gullies and so achieve the same end. This
carried out under the same conditions mentioned earlier.
This work is not designed to stop a fire dead nor is it designed to
remove all available fuel but only to reduce it, so that a fire can be
controlled in its early stages, before it develops into a major blaze on
spreading into an area of higher fuel density. Generally speaking some
proportion of the area should remain unburnt. This usually includes the
moist gullies and southerly slopes. Up to one quarter or perhaps one third
of the fuel remains after the burn has been carried out.
What is now being achieved is an assisted reversion to the pattern
of nature. Before the advent of man lightning-caused fires kept the
amount of fuel on the forest floor below the present day levels. The
policy which evolved after 1939 resulted in a huge build up of fuel over
a vast area and created ideal conditions for fires of major proportions.
The current policy is not aimed at preventing fire altogether. This is
impossible, particularly when it is realised that one third of our forest
fires are attributed to lightning. It is aimed at reducing the damage
caused by the 2% of our fires which cause 98% of the damage to our
forests.
After reading this perhaps now the bushwalker, when he chances
upon a jeep track well back in the wilds, will have a much better appreciation of the reasons for its being. Perhaps he will realise that apart
from the track providing him with an easy path its main purpose is of
far greater significance.
Page Six
WALK
"THIS BEAUTEOUS LAND"
The stars above, and the stars below
Musk scented valleys where tree-ferns grow
Wraiths of mist on mountain tops
Dew-wet grass, luminous smoke
Blue from the glowing fire
And black trees overhead
Birds of blue and scarlet and brown
Unafraid, come settling down
By their fellow creatures of the wild.
Golden light through quiet bush
Which wakes and stirs the elusive things
That are there in watch, and wait for us
To greet them as our friends
Mossy rocks and mountain creek
Known to beast and birdGiant trees, proud and old ....
This beauteous land
Of mountain, hill and plain
Of sunlit days and frozen nights
With stars and moon our guiding light.
Margaret Thompson
Mt. Feathertop-- Photo by W. I. Thompson.
WALK
Page Seven
JUST
SOUTH
OF THE
BORDER
by Fred Halls
Also see map on page 19.
Just south of the border in far East Gippsland, hidden behind the
broken scarp of the Wulgulmerang Plateau lies the red floored valley of
Suggan Buggan, earth the colour of red lead, or, to give the plateau its
old name as quoted on the Tambo County maps, the Woongulmerang
Plateau.
Through the valley to join the mighty Snowy just above McKillop's
Bridge, the Big Bridge to the friendly local folk, flows the Suggan
Buggan or Toonginbooka River, the former name probably being a corruption of the musical sounding Tooginbooka.
Tucked behind the southern end of the dry and rugged Suggan
Buggan Range flows the singing lngeegoodbee draining the high mountains to the west of Pinch Pass. Wherever you may travel you'll find
no other spot quite like this paradoxical valley of the rain shadow, the
Suggan Buggan. From the lush grassy meadows of the wide basin of
Wulgulmerang Plateau, the cold cattle country of wide far-flung distances,
the big stations and well-fed herds of Herefords and Angus, annual
rainfall 45 inches, it is no more than the flight of a wedgetail eagle into the
broken and dissected aridity of the rain shadow country just north-east
of the Rocky Range Scarp.
From the front gate of the Black Mountain Station the view northwards is across the fragrant meadows of the wide valley bowl to a row
of rounded, timbered hummocks, each successive knoll appearing slightly
higher, the sixth a rounded dome of brown rock four miles distant. Mt.
Stradbroke (4,300 feet) and the Rocky Range; what a different aspect
this innocuous swell of hillocks makes from the steep red floor of Suggan
Valley! Then see, too, a high red-brown scarp just like a wall split by
maybe a half dozen black walled chasms-black and ominous Holes in
the Wall!
Page Eight
WALK
Hanging Rock-Suggan Valley- Photo by I. Phillips.
A glance at the contours as shown on the Cobberas D. Lands Dept.
Map seems to indicate the presence of several deep chasms in the Rocky
Ranges; ravines in the red scarp where the terrain drops a thousand feet
in less than a couple of furlongs; a very rugged scarp which affords
views across the entire Soogan country to the border. The streams which
have carved these ravines are all tributaries of the Tooginbooka River.
The largest of these Holes in the Wall is the rift of the Stradbroke
Chasm. Deep and very narrow this pass through the Rocky Range has a
thick floor of forest rubbish below which Stradbroke Creek may be heard
cascading strongly into the Suggan Valley. The vertical rock walls of
reddish granite are many hundreds of feet high (700-900 feet), covered
with rich velvety moss and hung with bright ferns like paintings in an art
gallery. The narrow defile is choked with the rubbish of centuries, with
thick undergrowth, Holly Lomatia and stinging nettles strung together
by the great loops of vines and Strangling Dodder. This Chasm is a
refuge for the quaint and rare (for Victoria) Brush Tailed Rock Wallaby,
while between the tangle of shrubs and vines far below shows the shimmering cobalt blue of Suggan Valley.
"Hidden down behind Black Mountain, nestled snugly in the lee
Yawns the black of Stradbroke Chasm, there the sunlight rarely
beams,
Lush ferns and mosses line the craggy walls,
How rare some are, plants of sylvan beauty,
Erosion in the valley far below appalls,
Yet here, displayed on high, is Nature's bounty".
Transcending all else in this mountain paradise is the glorious blue
of Suggan Buggan, a cobalt blue you will never see elsewhere, distilled
from the shimmering blue of Tingitingi's far cliffs (4,771 feet), the purple
WALK
Page Nine
cast of the Middle Mountain ridges, the blue-green of the Murray Pines,
the chiselled ridges of White Box and Tingi Gum, the grey-green of the
World End country. Yet you must see this valley when the shadows are
long and air is cool. When the sun is high on a day in the blistering
Soogan summer (it is one of the hottest spots in the State in blazing
January) the light is fiercely hard, and the valley pocket appears hard
and arid.
There are the great gashes of erosion channels slicing through the
deep red earth; no scrub or underbrush, just the short sweet grasses
growing beneath the dark green Murray Pines, square miles of natural
hilly savannah in the Vale of Suggan Buggan.
From a marshy creek junction south west of Stradbroke's dome the
approach to Stradbroke Chasm is eastward up along the boggy creek
(Carson's) course, through masses of Coral Heath into the range gap
south-east of Stradbroke. Continuing on down the Vee-shaped valley
(Stradbroke's Creek) keep to the open timber in the bottom, avoiding thick
scrub on the steeper sides. Steeper now down the lovely, open valley bright
with the gold of November wattle and sheltered by sturdy yet graceful
white stemmed gums.
Enter the Chasm at a small waterfall by keeping to the south bank.
From this point it is quite a scramble downwards; the rift choked with
brush and dry debris becomes progressively narrow and deep, plunging
down steeply over giant boulders past the base of that massive guardian
blue gum near the Chasm entrance; definitely a worthwhile sight is that
vertical Chasm compensating for the steep clamber down through the
dark rift.
The south and south-eastern corner of the Wulgulmerang Plateau is
deeply dissected by gorges cut by tributary streams of the mighty Snowy.
There are the broken crags of Wheeler Gorge, the wild gorges of Little
River, Wulgulrnerang Creek, Boundary Creek, Pack Bullock and Currie
Creeks, while still further south are the Tulach Ard, Broadbent River
Gorges and Rodger River Gorge to the east of old man Snowy at the
emerald vale of Jackson's Crossing; so let us visit some of these briefly
before we leave the district.
As well as the Stradbroke Chasm the Brush-Tailed Rock Wallaby
fortunately now inhabits other broken sections of the Rocky Range such
as the Wallaby Rocks and, possibly, Hanging Rock, this being part of
the ridge between Hamilton Gap and World End Spur. There are grand
views of Suggan Buggan country clear to the border from this section
of the scarp where the world tips over the edge.
I believe that a large area of the range (nearly 10,000 acres) has
been set aside to preserve these now rare animals. If this faunal reserve
be an established fact, then it is indeed a wise act of conservation, for a
more suitable habitat for these nimble marsupials could hardly be found.
This animal has also been sighted in the Tulach Ard off Sebastopol
Gorge at about 2,000 feet below the eerie old orchard supposedly
haunted by a phantom stockman. This ravine is a gorge of rich and
varied rock colouring with often narrow, precipitous walls.
The greenish river, the Snowy, races between inky teeth of blueblack indurated shale, bluffs of honey coloured limestone, red walls of
vertical rhyodacite; a veritable wonderland of coloured stone in the
river bed.
Progress afoot is slow in The Narrows towards the Broadbent Gorge
triangle. Imagine trying to walk on a mountain of ball bearings (as Emil
expressed it); add to this a tangle of black thorn, thick scrub and trailing vines with savagely hooked thorns at least a quarter inch long. For
a spice of danger include a few cliffs of limestone, granodiorite, porPage Ten
WALK
Sebastopol Gorge.
Photo by F. Halls.
phyry or rhyodacite and you will have an idea what it is like to tackle
the barrier cliffs south of The Narrows, especially as you may have to
clamber feet above the river to pass through the rough terrain.
A wild and lonely spot, indeed, in the middle of this virgin splendour where the river is slow and very deep passing through sheer cliffs
of white limestone and red acid lavas, and by occasional pocket-hankerchief beaches of pure white sand.
Boundary Creek Gorge is one of the wonders of the Wulgumering
district -perhaps the best. I have only seen this from the southern rim
at the St. Helena Rocks which are a spine of lava rocks projecting into
the gorge three miles east of the Deddick Road near Currie Flat, and at
least 1,500 feet above the twisting, jungle girt stream. You look straight
down, and there, right below at your feet, is the tiny silver thread of
Boundary Creek. How much more spectacular would be the view from
the much higher northern rim, three miles south of Langham's Gap?
From a high rocky point betwen Wulgulmerang Creek, little River and
Boundary Creek may well be the best panorama of all.
WALK
Page Eleven
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Page Twelve
Tel.: 41 5073
WALK
Both Curly and I found that it was a very wild stretch of bushland
where Wulgulrnerang Creek leaps from the plateau into tortuous Little
River Gorge. On the spur extremities were jumbled piles of acid lava
rock supporting rank growths of Tingiringi Gum and Hop Bitter Pea.
Where the Tingi Gum has fallen over we found that this forms a frustrating tangle difficult to surpass, and where progress on foot is limited to
a rate of yards per hour.
Wulgulrnerang Falls is surely the deepest in all the Snowy Gorge
country. This fantastic silver thread thunders and twists all of a thousand
feet and more into the cavernous gorge in less than a quarter of a mile.
Just prior to the topmost waterfall, Wulgul Creek swirls (more like a river
torrent after a heavy spring rain) southwards constricted in a rocky shute,
then falls like boiling milk coffee into a cliffy pool over 100 yards west
above the lip of the main falls.
The semi-circular channel through the vertical lava carries the torrent over the well defined lip, dropping several hundred feet, twists again,
then flows southerly. The main fall is wide and deep (400-500 feet). This
section is rarely seen being mainly hidden behind a lava bluff. The
fourth fall twists at right angles flowing towards the north and falling
into a large limpid pool. The stream then disappears into a cavern, probably tumbling through hidden lava chambers inside the bluff prior to reappearing once more at the Little River Torrent.
There are numerous grand view-points from the strewn boulderknobs of red-gold lava, views of a colourful river gorge at least 1,500
feet deep flanked by square-topped golden bluffs; a veritable Yellowstone
Canyon.
I would like to draw a mental picture of the scene from one of the
lava razorbacks high above the gorge. There are golden-brown boulders
jumbled in great profusion on the rocky knob of the spur, while between
the boulders there is a tangled growth of Tingiringi Gum, often their
many sterns growing out from the one rootstock, This tangled mess has
been blown down by the wild storms, tail end of the monsoons rounding
the State's eastern corner. There are wild, awe-inspiring sights when summer thunderstorms roar and reverberate through these Snowy ravines.
Chiselled spurs plunge down past );linnacles of exposed rock, razorbacked raw-edged pinnacles of red-gold lava and there, far below in the
dizzy depths, coursing madly around sharp S-bends and over numerous
cascades, is that tiny silver thread winking in the sunlight-the foaming
Little River, while high above, beside a fluted column a landslide scree
pushes a delta of purple stones downwards a thousand feet and more
into the valley.
In all, a scene of the wildest splendour and one that is even more
memorable when it is considered that the river has carved its gorge
through durable material, not just soft sandstone as in many other famous
canyons, but a good two thousand feet deep, in many places through hard
resistant volcanic magma. This great gorge will some day be known as
one of the wonders of our national heritage. It must be at least four
to five miles long, maybe even seven or eight as the river flows, from
its upstream portals half-a -mile above Wulgulrnerang Falls to its confluence with the parent river the Snowy.
The Tingi Gum, one of the most beautiful of our native trees, is
similar to the rnallee, in so far that it is more often found with many
sterns growing from one rootstock. The sterns are long and slender and
quite whippy. The extremely smooth bark is delicately veined with pastel
tones of green, grey and sometimes orange tints. This lovely tree grows
in the most exposed positions, thrusting out its whippy sterns from cracks
and crevices in the large acid lava boulders, so that it often fills the
foreground for the beautiful views as are found above the Little River
WALK
Page Thirteen
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Page Fourteen
WALK
gorge and at Langham's Bluff. Near the latter, Tingi Gum is seen
growing adjacent to the deep blue peas of the Love Creeper which twines
over the red varnished stems of juvenile Silvertop Ash, while at the
foot are the delicate pale blue bells of Native Rosemary (Westringia
glabra).
From the top of World End Spur, at an elevation of near 4,000
feet, it is a long way down from the broken scarp of the Rock Wallaby
to the gorge-like valley of World End Creek and the Toonginbooka River
800 feet above sea level.
Some of the steep slopes of the chiselled ridges are clothed by the
grey-green of White Box or Mountain Ash, with Tingi and Snow Gums,
or by the deep blue-green of Murray Pine. A sharp line of demarcation
seems to occur between the habitats of the various species. A whole hillside of White Box makes way for a slope of Murray Pine at the crest
of the ridge, and the deep, red earth often shows between the trees which
often results in the purple cast so often seen in the blue of Middle
Mountain ridges.
Wherever you travel you'll probably never find any place quite like
this valley of the rain shadow. (Its annual rainfall is far less than twenty
inches as compared with the forty inches plus of the Wulgulmerang
Plateau) with its unique and incomparable charm. Should you ever travel
down the new red road from Wulgulmerang over the borderlands to
Ingebyra, you'll probably agree that this is true.
•
•
•
Revision to Snake Bite Treatment
After reading Helen White's "Some First-Aid Hints" which was
published in the previous issue of "Walk", a correspondent, Mr. Norman
Jackson of Hawthorn has kindly forwarded a most important revision to
snake bite treatment. He writes:"The Australian Supplement to the First-Aid Book", (1964) issued
by the St. John Ambulance Association recommends that excision [(3) in
Miss White's suggested treatment] should not be used. The actual wording of the Supplement is as follows:(iii) Cutting through the puncture marks or excision of the area
surrounding the punctures is not recommended because:
(a) Damage may result to important deeper structures.
(b) Once an effective constrictive bandage has been applied, bleeding
from such a wound to assist the removal of venom would be minimal.
(c) Incision is of doubtful use especially if it not carried out immediately after the bite. (However some still consider incision assists
removal of venom).
WALK
Page Fifteen
Nunniong Plain.
Photo by F. Pitt.
TO A FAR
by A. Schafer
With sunlit plains before and stormy hills beyond-such was the vista
presenting itself to my five companions and myself as we left Bairnsdale
a few days before Christmas a few years ago in our chartered van
speeding up the Omeo Highway, a road which for the most part closely
follows the banks of the turbulent Tambo River. Soon the hills narrowed
in on the road, and down from the heights lashed the hail and pelting
rain drowning the road in inches of madly swirling water.
After some sixty miles along the highway at the small township of
Swift's Creek, the icy squalls had abated and, in the lateness of the
afternoon, left the countryside cleanly washed and the air smelling
sweet and fresh. A further five mile of highway, then at Tongio, our
driver spun sharp on the wheel and in no time had turned up a side
road, crossing the stream, then right turning again to head south-east
into the hills, the road hugging the mountainside closely and overlooking
deep timbered valleys dropping away steeply on the left. At last our
road levelled and divided, splitting up into a number of narrow deeply
rutted forestry tracks. This was the Mt. Nugong saddle, our point of no
return.
At the start of our walk and our first campsite there are two signs,
one marks a nearby dugout, the other points uphill along the lookout track.
From the saddle it is a twenty minute climb up this track, and next morning finds us sharing an early breakfast with the forestry officer in his
little cabin perched high on the five thousand feet summit of Mt. Nugong.
From here the hazy outlines of the Lakes Entrance can be seen merging
into the sea and sky of Bass Strait, forty miles or more distant. From the
nearby spotting tower the view is raised above the obscuring thickets of
the Black Sallee snowgum, and there we wait for the forestry man, Bill
Ah Chow, to follow up after us and recover his breath before pointing
out to us the various landmarks visible. Bill is a veteran is his job, but
stays on at his rather isolated post. But nowadays it is not so lonely as
the visitors' book shows; for the year over two thousand signatures,
mainly children brought up by school excursion buses from the towns
below.
Page Sixteen
WALK
MOUNTAIN
• • •
Evidence of a cold, late winter is in the shape of long ribbons of
snow lying along ranges on the western skyline, perhaps thirty to forty
miles away. There are interesting mountain peaks, near and far to
identify, particularly those towards East Gippsland, but there is one,
barely discernable in the blue haze of the northern horizon, a mere
pimple, which claims our attention more than any other-Mt. Kosciusko,
a far objective on our line of route; and there's a hundred mile of walking
in between with the daily thrill of seeing the mountain looming ever
larger. A glimpse through the powerful binoculars, and-ah, yes, that spot
of white must be the Cootapatamba Drift! What lies in between is a vast
mountainous tract, ridge after ridge, timbered, with spurs abruptly descending into the wide and deep Buchan valley. Closer at hand the
dark sheen of water catches the eye, and there are seen parts of a
grassy clearing, Bentley Plain, our next place of call.
Goodbye to Bill and his cautionary tales of the Black Brumby, terror
of the Big Plain, and it's down to our packs in half the time it takes
to get up, then an hour's walk down to the hideout, the intervening
distance cut up into a confusion of logging tracks, enough to make
Bentley himself, the old rascal, loose his way. But in the hour we step
into the bushranger's old stamping ground. A pair of wheel tracks cross
to the southern boundary, and a number of forestry huts are seen at
the western end of the plain under the lower slopes of Mt. Nugong. At
the southern entry a second pair of wheel tracks branch off the first
set and recross to the northern side, but more to the east, and re-enter
the timber at a low wooden bridge spanning the juncture of two streams.
One creek is quite evident, but the other is hidden. Still, it is there, a
small and narrow but turbulent rill joining its companion under some
low thick bushes.
WALK
Page Seventeen
Our path this mid-morning is an old gravel road, climbing northeasterly keeping the creek valley on our left. One and a half miles from
the bridge the road turns sharply right, and we head downhill to cross a
small stream. This is something not to do, but, because it seems the
right road, we hurry blithely on for a few miles, until the worm of doubt
gnaws at spirits already affected by the rising humidity, so retreat is
sounded. Back at Bentley's in time to set up camp before the onset of
the afternoon's storm, Felix and I once more visit Bill, our faces red,
for he had warned us the way was tricky. Total positive progress for
this our first day, two and a half miles!
Another day, a fresh start, and on the track by six we are determined to make up the lost miles, resolving to stray no more, and sure
we are now on the right track well above the humid valley, and soon
over the first watershed we go to race down a narrow alleyway walled
by ferns and thick undergrowth. As the forest thins, the eye catches the
yellow gash of a new forestry road cutting to the left, but we prefer
our darling little track, so easy on the foot and leading past all sorts of
interesting glades and hollows. In one of these ingles, someone has had
a bit of fun with an old tree stump, whittling it into a fine example of
primitive art, placing the necessary offerings at the figure's foot.
By nine o'clock it's over the low bridge spanning the Black River,
and next, we are climbing the further ridge, passing open grassy clearings on either hand, until meeting the edge of a much larger clearing,
The Low Plain, and, when the misty clouds part awhile, we glimpse
the tin shed. From this plain the tracks swing in a large arc to the
west, then north again, to meet a cyclone gate opening on to wide
grasslands known as the Big Plain, the domain of the Black Brumby, if
one recalls Bill's yarns. A pair of wheel tracks cut through the knee-high,
wet grass out to the centre where stands a line of old fence posts.
Another set of tracts branches off to the left, presumably to head down to
the Bindi Homestead. At last we are through the sliprails on the far side,
and after not a glimpse of the wild horses on the crossing, and we enter
a shadowy candlebark forest, where it is as though the trees were tapers,
their trunks the grubby whites and greys of melted candlegrease, though
today the lights are out, extinguished by rain setting in from the overcast.
In two miles we have walked off the map so Alan obliges with a new
one from his file the signposted "Wheatfield's Track" mysteriously tunnels
off on our right disappearing into the gloomy greenery, but we keep up
a good pace and climb a low ridge, sidling the western fall, the track
corduroyed in the muddy places.
The Blue Shirt Creek fording, last water before Jam Tin Flat four
miles further on, is the place for lunch, if it is the time, so we climb
away from out of the mud and listen to the roaring waters tumbling down
a narrow, pinch-necked gully. The advice for anyone lunching here, is
to stoke in the calories, for immediately past the ford the track rears up
a monstrous mountain side for about a mile, and, during the frequent
stops and starts required to ease the back and gulp in air, the neck
commences to ache as the eye is carried upward, time and again, by
vertical lines of the big Woollybuts and the prodigious Candlebark boles.
Page Eighteen
WALK
SNOWY MOUNTAINS
&
NORTH-EAST
GIPPSLAND
tO Miles
MBW
WALK
Page Nineteen
VISIT
CENTRAL AUSTRALIA
IN 1966
CAMPING COACH TOURS
MAY to SEPTEMBER
Darwin-Alice Springs
.. $110
(£55)
23 days, via Bourke, Mary Kathleen, Mt. lsa, Tennant's
Creek, Ayers Rock, Coober Pedy, Woomera & Adelaide
Alice Springs-Ayers Rock . $80
(£40)
16 days, via Broken Hill, Woomera, Coober Pedy, and
return through Adelaide.
Mt. Isa-Birdsville Track .. $90
(£45)
16 days, via Cloncurry, Mary Kathleen, Mt. lsa, to
Birdsville, then along the Birdsville Track to Moree and
Adelaide.
Special group tours. Large concessions are available for
group bookings. Let us quote on an outback Safari tour.
Many itineraries available.
CENTRALIAN TOURS
407 BAY ROAD, CHELTENHAM, VICTORIA- 95 6969
or
VICTORIAN TOURIST BUREAU, MELBOURNE-63 0202
Page Twenty
WALK
Late afternoon, and we're on the top-of what? Well, somewhere in
the centre of a large cloud. Not a view, but a sign points down an eastern
spur to the Diggers Holes, and, on the other side of the ridge there is a
slow movement of white mist, so the only thing to watch under such
circumstances is a compass needle. West, southwest-not the way to go,
so take the first likely looking campsite met. Underfoot large globules
of moisture cover the softly spiked snowgrass. A closely clipped lawn on
closer inspection turns out to be a patch of mossy button grass oozing
water like a sponge. But the ground about is level and a search reveals
a small rock pool fringed with ferns.
A cold, foggy Christmas morn sheds a pale light over our surroundings-horse skulls! Then the clouds lift a little and to the south is a view
of Mt. Nugong and Big Plain. Northwest points the compass needle assuring all that we are not on the dead-end road to Dingo Flat, then,
suddenly around a bend, is found a rusty tin nailed to a pole. A sign
reads "Jam Tin Flat".
We are now dropping down, rather steeply, to a saddle, when there
is a sudden view of snow streaked ranges away in the west, and clearly
identifiable as Mounts Bogong, Hotham and Nelse. After the climb out,
the ridge flattens and we enter an oval, grassy clearing-Horse Flat,
undoubtedly appreciated by stock in this hilly, scrubby country. Chrismas dinner on the track with a menu of tinned ham, glazed pineapples
and dried apples. The track is now sheltered by ranks of long, thin
snowgums, swaying in unison with the stirring of the cool wind. Seven
miles from Jam Tin the Forlorn Hope Track comes in from the right,
up from the misty blues of the Upper Buchan Valley, and in another
mile we enter a stockyard in a narrow V-shaped gully where a streamlet
trickles across the mossy ground.
Well into the morning on the fourth day we leave the forest of thin
grey trees, but still following the ridge which is now a series of rounded
grassy pinnacles giving distant views of the terrain ahead with Mt. Kosciusco appearing definitely larger. To the west, out Benambra way, there
are glimpses of dry, brown country with the conical outlines of The
Brothers as the dominant landmarks. Later, another hill is climbed and
this time a new mountain range fills the foreground, urgently claiming
attention-the rugged Cobberas, then the track plunges back into the
scrubby forest where sticks snap and crackle as wild horses are sent
flying by our intrusion. After one mad stampede a fox pokes his snout
from out of the undergrowth, waits a few seconds for the dust to
settle, then slinks silently across the road.
More grassy clearings, almost park like in their surroundings, are
crossed, and soon after lunch we hit the Marengo Road, which, after the
leafy tracks, is as hard as iron or concrete to the foot all the way to
Bulley's Creek, a stream deep enough to wash away the dirt and sweat
of the last few days, and rising not very far away in the shadowy confines of the Cobberas range.
All sorts of advice had been offered as to the best route to climb
the Big Cobbera. On this occasion we honor the time-proven method of
sticking to the highest ground. It's up a spur south, then bridging eastwards across to the main ridge, the going scrubby at first, but soon we
WALK
Page Twenty-one
Cowombat Flat- Photo by J. Smith .
are tramping up some pleasant snow plains and scrambling over the
dividing rocky outcrops, with every now and then, the tinkle of a stock
bell attached to some straying beast invisible in the odd wisps of mist.
From the summit cairn at the southern end ("En-an-no"), this six thousand
foot mountain range appears as long curving wall of jagged rock, dividing two worlds, the east a flat sea of cloud lapping over the lower
passes and into the relatively cloudless west which is a landscape of
mountain and valley right to the far horizon. On the way back it is first
a run down long lanes of alpine meadow, and then through the scrub
via horse pads, invisible on the way up, but leading most conveniently
directly to camp.
From the wide open campsite at the creek we find the road swinging
away from the main range, and for the next few miles there is only
an occasional glimpse of the distant peaks as we climb high or drop
over the westward running spurs. About six miles from camp the gradient
increases and Felix takes time off to hunt the rabbits which really abound
plentifully enough on the steep, grassy slopes below. Up and up climbs
the road, and gradually the outlines of The Pilot appear above the tree
line in the north, then it's a rattling downhill run to send the flintstones
flying as Frank recites "The Carlton Weaver" just the metre for our
furious pace carrying us down to the quite evening solitude of Cowombat
Flat, where Alan has already raced us and is setting up his tent on the
smooth "lawn" at our later arrival. Nearby the up-ended tail of the
crashed air-liner is now a chimney stack and a section of the fuselage
serves as a shelter. At the edge of the clearing, where the hill commences, the scrub is still scarred from the ten-year-old impact, strips of
metal hang from branches and in the leading edge of the wings are
pieces of tree trunks deeply embedded.
Page Twenty-two
WALK
Next morning it is only a step across a small creek to enter New
South Wales, as it is said that this stream is the very headwaters of the
Murray-Indi. After passing an old chimney on the left we re-enter the
forest, the track not much more than a little used pad, climbing to the
east in a large horseshoe bend, then swinging north-west around the
southern foot of Mt. Pilot, the journey taking most of the morning, to
where we find the summit route signpost erected by the Geehi Club
down. It takes forty minutes of hard breathing, determined climbing
before the last of the snowgum is left behind for the final clamber over
the rocks to the summit. Here is an all round view of the high places.
Kosci is much larger, but what takes the eye is the country immediately
in front of that mountain, a section the Great Dividing Range traversed
by our route ahead. This is a plateau, a huge block tilted to the east
where tributaries of the Snowy River, in particular the Moyangul River,
have embedded long winding cuts, while to the west the scarp is bounded
by the deep gorges of the mighty Murray-lndi River.
From The Pilot it's an easy gait along an easy track, dropping away
to the lower altitude of five thousand feet, the trees thinning out and
giving way to a succession of meadowy paddocks, cut by the yellow road
and dotted with the spoil heaps of the old mine workings now much
overgrown by the long grasses. This is a mellow scene where distant tree
clumps merge their feathery tops into a sky filled with billowing, purple
clouds.
Tin Mine Foils.
J. Brownlie.
WALK
Page Twenty-three
Clear a space
of ten feet
around and
above the fire
Keep the fire
small.
Be sure it is extinguished before you leave.
and smokers ••• make
sure your cigarette or
match is OUT before
throwing it away.
FORESTS
Page Twenty-four
COMMISSION
OF
VICTORIA
WALK
An examination of the walls of Charlie Carter's old hut, about the
only one left (save the SMA cabin) of the Tin Mine settlement which is
still habitable, reveals a wealth of local history scratched and scrawled
on the boards, with references dating back to the days of the hermit
and up to the present left by those passing through. Here Alan, not feeling the best, decides to leave the party accompanied by Frank who is
under obligation to attend some New Year's party, of all excuses! They
leave minutes after the next sun-up and do the odd seventeen mile out to
the Highway by mid-afternoon, which is not bad going for an invalid
walker. Later on, the four of us who are left follow in wind and rain,
taking two days instead of one, and commence with a visit to the Tin
Mine Falls, a giddy scramble over crumbling slatey rock, where fragile
snowgum blossoms overhang sheer drops of up to almost two thousand
feet.
Back on the track for a mile or so we come to a plain of dry, tussocky grass and presently find a signpost directing the way to Jindabyne.
But it's left turn down a narrow pad into a smaller tree surrounded
plain holding a swampy tarn in its centre. From the far entry the pad
now cuts through a belt of trees and emerges on the western side of the
long, open upper reaches of the Moyangul River, and this we follow for
a couple of miles before recrossing the divide to drop down to the fern
gullies of the eastern fall of the Indi valley. Most of the way it's a push
up and down through the wet bushes overgrowing the track, the cold rain
hammering down in incessant tattoo, and there's a cry of relief at finding
Graham McKinney's blaze mark made a year previously at the corner
of a misleading track juncture, The wrong turning (left) could lead one
astray miles down into the Indi valley. Shortly past the blaze, the sidling
business is ended and the track is up on the ridge soon passing through
an old stock yard and then to the derelict Cascade Hut, built by cattlemen the bark roof all but fallen in, and sited at the top end of the
noisy Valley of the Cascades.
From now on the scenery has a definite alpine look about it, an air
of ancient glaciation. Odd boulders half hidden in the long grass and
scattered about the hillsides appear, infrequently at first but soon more
and more until stone is the dominating feature of the countryside.
From the roofless hut pads hug the valley side downwards, then
cross springy, saturated ground to where the stream's darkly, flowing
waters gather momentum before leaping the first of the cascades on the
very edge of the scarp, and the air is filled with a singing roar of water
dashing down a rocky course from far below. The racing waters are
crossed the best way possible (wading) before commencing the struggle
up the scrubby-sided Bob's Ridge, a spur crowned with large tors. Now
look back across the stones and see the last campsite at Cascade Hut
a mile distant half hidden in the broken, scrubby timber. On this day out
we round a corner to be confronted by a sudden, startling view of
Kosciusko, much more magnified when compared with our earlier views,
the Ramsheads clearly discernable with a knobbly texture of boulders
and snow patches. Again sight is lost of the mountain down the drop
and climb over the next saddle, and on top of the further hill an old
fence, relic of the cattle days and bleached grey-white, is followed to
an exposed area of snowgrass relieved here and there by stunted snowgums. Out breaks the sun, and below our feet the Crackenback Valley
WALK
Page Twenty-five
See VICTORIA First
This Holiday State has the best to offer
at any of its varied natural playgrounds.
For all information and Rail, Road, Sea and Air Bookings :
VICTOUR
The Victorian Government Tourist Bureau,
272 Coll ins Street, Melbourne.
TELEPHONE : 63 0202
SPECIALISTS IN GROUP TRAVEL
Page Twenty-six
WALK
and Dead Horse Gap look all very alpine. There is a steep drop to the
latter place and highway where it is a three mile step along the hail
lashed bitumen where blue mountains massively stand rank after rank
far along the valley, to Thredbo Ski Village. Here we replenish our
packs from food parcels posted to ourselves and are soon ready for
another week's walking.
The afternoon is lazed away behind the plate glass of the staff
room of one of the lodges, idly watching the rain clouds spill over the
Ramsheads. What a place to winter in! Shelves of good books and
stacks of recorded classical music with a picture view of magnificent
scenery. However, there is a break in the sky and it's time to be off.
After thanking the manager we dodge the curious stares of the motor
tourists, skirt the chaos of the building site of a new, big hotel, and
take to the chairlift soon to be borne high above the dangerously looking, sharp edged rocks (the winter previous the cable snapped sending
the passengers tumbling, luckily, on to snow covered ground), and bound
for the six thousand, four hundred foot contour. The only way to manage
the bulky packs is to have them strapped on back to front, and we are
the helpless targets of camera-aiming tourists facing us on the way down.
At the top a young German operator swears volubly, shouting at tardy
trippers to hurry up for the last chair back. We pass the last of them as
the heavy cloud comes creeping down from the nearby Ramsheads so we
turn down the road for a few miles to find shelter in the trees.
Monday, the last day of the year, is lost in fog; some people think
the postbox mounted on caterpillars is at the summit, but in reality it
is standing at one of the lower turntables. Others have been waiting for
days for the weather to clear. New Year's Day it does, and by eleven
o'clock we are up enjoying the famous view. Looking south, back along
the way we have come the last ten days, it is difficult to see much beyond
the Cobberas, for the distant ranges merge indistinctly into the smoky,
blue horizon. Down the road a bumper-to-bumper line of cars and buses
jerk into a slow grind up to Rawson Pass. A distateful sight marring the
national monument is the large rubbish heap near the cairn. Unfortunately,
too, rust tins are beginning to form lines along the road through the
Primitive Area.
But the mountain hasn't lost its coyness, and within the hour conjours out of the sky a new veil of cloud, and the vision is gone-and so
are we, heading with all speed along the grassy ridge towards Mt.
Mueller, leaving behind the crowds who seem rarely to venture far from
their car seats. A race against the advancing cloud bank menacing Mt.
Townsend means running along a stony pad, crossing snow drifts and
scrambling over the loosely piled boulders forming the summit. And it's
just in time for a glimpse of the Geehi Valley with its forests and clearings far, far below.
Back on the main track the sun shines strongly over the Northcote
Pass with its hanging lake, Albino, with its hut and valley surroundings,
looking all very Swiss like, a study in picture postcard blue with flecks
of snow patches and gleaming rock in vivid contrast. On the far side
the track climbs high to a ridge covered in thin stones with sharp edges
that can cut easily the hard rubber of boot soles, and where the flesh is
stung by the fierce ultra-violets and numbed by an icy blast. To the
WALK
Page Twenty-seven
Mt. Kosciusko -
Photo by J. Smith.
Above right: The Pretty Plains.
right, the east, are the ruins of the last Glacial Age, the tumbled
boulders and basin-like surrounds of the lakes. A man-made landmark
is the Soil Conservationists' Hut and there is much evidence of their
attempts to heal the scars left after many years abuse of the alpine
pasturage; whole mountaintops have been netted.
Continuing along the Snowy Mountains the next day, it is Pounds's
Creek, Tate East Ridge, Consett Stephen Pass, but seeing little except the
needles of our compasses, thick fog and teeming rain until reaching the
shelter of White's River Hut, full of speriologists, not pot-holing but on
a wildflower photographic expedition. They offer us hot coffee as we dry
out in front of the fire. A few miles up the road at Schlink Pass (a spot
earmarked for the Royal Tour later in the year) we take a side track
going north. A fording of the flooded Valentine, a bash down a scrubby
ridge in soaking rain, the light fades and the party splits at the meeting
of swollen streams. Two of us get one tent up opposite the thundering
waters. The night sky clears; in the starlight a silvery spectre rises above
the Falls.
PaiJe Twenty-eight
WALK
In the morning Felix and Bill are found further along the track, and
we lunch at the Grey Mare Hut before continuing on for a few more
miles to the most northerly point of the tour. At the left turn, west, the
overgrown cattlepads are recognised by the long daisy lines, and approaching the Rocky Bogong corner, there is a view across a low, wide valley,
the eye being carried to the majestic sweep of Mt. Jagungal, another day's
walk, but not for us for presently we are entering a type of country
almost forgotten, slopes of tall eucalypts and fern gullies sheltering the
lonely Pretty Plains and the solid old homestead.
An early start is called for a long day, taking us across the colourful,
flowery Dargals, from where the Snowy Mountains look small and recede
into the distance with every step. From the last hilltop there is a
glimpse of a sundrenched country below. To it we descend, pushing
through the bushes, the screams of parrots and the tinkling of a hidden
waterfall ring in our ears until we reach the forest flats where there
are scribbled signs warning that dog traps have been set. Soon the track
clears, becomes a forestry road, now gravelled, and in another mile power
lines droop overhead; a regular motor road is met, and there is the distant
hum of earth-moving machinery-Khancoban is being resited. Back in the
heat and humidity of the summer we are making camp for the fourteenth
and last time.
•
•
•
Good company on the road is the shortest cut.
-Old Italian Proverb.
WALK
Page Twenty-nine
TABLELAND
TREK
-P. Markus.
Power's Lookout, King River Valley.
Photo by I. Phillips.
Time was marching on and nine of us were already assembled at the
Kornbi van in Batman Avenue when the tenth man duly arrived, clad in
shorts and boots, a dazzling white shirt and dark tie. In one hand he
carefully juggled one dozen eggs in a carton and in the other, two
pounds of over-ripe peaches in a disintegrating brown paper bag. Depositing these on the footpath, he proceeded to repack his rucksack, leaving
various unwanted items in a spare bag in the back of the van. We were
soon on our way in the Kornbi, with several other members following in
the leader's Austin.
As we neared our camp site for the night, we had climbed quite high
and the mountains and valleys made an impressive sight in the full moonlight. We reached Powers Lookout early Saturday morning and soon found
very comfortable camp sites.
Arising somewhat late, we found the weather perfect. Our camp
site boasted every convenience, a picnic shed complete with fireplace and
a tank, and also a wonderful view. The actual lookout was reached by
climbing up and down several ladders. From it Mt. Buffalo dominated the
view to the east, Mt. Cobbler could just be seen behind the range across
the King River Valley, while to the south, Mts. Stirling and Buller stood
out. In the immediate foreground the rich green of the valley below presented a homely picture from our perch amongst the conglomerate rock.
At nine o'clock, Charlie and Ian left to take the van down to Bennies
(the finishing point) while we descended to the valley to await their return by Austin in the shade of a few trees opposite the Cheshunt South
school. A short distance along the road we carne across a large apple tree
and there was a dash for the ripe fruit on the ground. We were soon
crossing the river, and finding it a pleasant spot we partook of lunch
there. The usual climb followed after lunch until we reached a rocky
outcrop from which we could survey our morning's progress. From here
on we seemed to be on a tableland and the walking was very pleasant,
apart from a bit of scrub. Several kangaroos bounded off into the bush.
Page Thirty
WALK
We moved in a general easterly direction for some time, but finding
several dry creek beds we headed more north-easterly and decided to
follow the next creek down in the search for a campsite as time was
marching on. A short shower brought out the latest fashions in rainwear,
but they were back in the packs before long.
A few still pools were found in the next creek bed and a short way
further down we dropped packs while some of the party went to investigate the amount of water in the creek. It was found to be insufficient,
so we moved still further down until a good campsite and water supply
was located.
We had soon settled down quite comfortably as darkness fell and
Hughie made himself felt once more. The fires were soon burning
brightly, and very shortly we heard some very weird noises from the
direction of one of our neighbours. Kath and Felix soon joined us at our
fire and we leant the reason for the outcry: bull ants. Heard our leader
commenting on his unwelcome guests as he and Graeme joined Anne and
Charlie at their fire. The moon broke through the clouds as bright as
day, and we were entertained by Felix courting a mopoke until another
mopoke joined in the fun.
Sunday dawned quite fine, with only a few clouds about, and we
set off down the old jeep track Athol had discovered the previous evening. The going was easy on the old track and we came to an old tumbledown hut with the remains of a rusty boiler, both of which were gradually being covered by berry vines. An old kerosene tin in the grass
reminded us of the headgear worn by "Ned" when he roamed the area
years ago. Ten minutes later and we were on the road to Paradise Falls
which we had hoped to reach the previous evening. As we were a little
behind schedule, Ian though it best we push on towards our day's destination, so we ambled across a few fields before reaching Snowy Creek.
WALK
Page Thirty-one
COME
OUTDOORS
with the
YOUTH HOSTELS ASSOCIATION
OF VICTORIA
HOSTELS AT
*
*
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Or any
Broadford
Mt. Buller
Steiglitz
Warburton
Warrandyte
Interstate
of the 4000
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IN 38 COUNTRIES AROUND THE WORLD
*
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Bushwalking
Canoeing
Horseriding
Sailing
Skiing
Waterskiing
For further information contact
YOUTH HOSTELS ASSOCIATION
OF VICTORIA,
161 FLINDERS LANE, MELBOURNE, C.1
or 'phone 63 3754.
Page Thirty-two
WALK
We set off through the cleared land and then along the timbered
spur and were soon resting on another rocky outcrop admiring the view
below and beyond. Continuing a short way along the ridge we soon found
a pleasant lunch spot, quite clear and with a pleasant fragrance of fallen
gum leaves. Walking along this ridge in the afternoon we were often reminded of the Cathedrals as the ridge was often rocky and well defined.
The wonderful smell of gum leaves stayed with us and we obtained good
views of Buffalo and Cobbler once more.
Descending towards the Rose River we soon approached the road
and found an ideal campsite for the evening: a small grassy clearing,
sufficiently removed from the road. Nearby we found a small orchard and
a tank which was overflowing. We felt that the owner would not begrudge us sufficient water for our meal. The meal over, the evening concert proceeded and we were all entertained by Felix and John playing the
tin whistle and mouth-organ. Athol recited with great feeling the introduction of "The Snark" and we all sang various choruses of "My Eyes
Are Dim" with great gusto, so it was rather late when we retired for our
beauty sleep.
Another fine day dawned and we set off down the road to Bennies.
We soon found the road leading towards the Typo Range and having
deposited our packs behind a large shed we set off in high spirits. We
had not walked far when the leader remembered that the keys for the van
were in his pack, so while he retraced his steps we robbed all the blackberry vines in the vicinity of their crop. Ian returned and we took to
the bush once more, to climb up on to the range. We were soon walking
along the top of the ridge on more conglomerate rock and corning to a
spot which fell away sharply, Walter and several others found it very
flattering to shout their lungs out and produce terrific echoes. Reaching
a small cairn we took our bearings. The range ran on but we could see
a large gap near the back of Bennies and most of us elected to return
to the jeep track we had crossed earlier and descend to the road via
this route. Felix, Graerne and John would continue on along the range.
We all appreciated the view-a cloud playing mysteriously around the
horn on Buffalo to the north-east, the cliffs on Cobbler to the south-east
the ridge we had traversed yesterday afternoon, the plateau we had descended gradually yesterday morning and on both sides river valleysand then we went our ways. Reaching Bennies some time later we found
Felix and John waiting, having come down the gap behind Bennies while
Graerne elected to climb the last peak on the other side before joining
us a little later. We were soon back at the shed collecting our packs and
the next stop was Cheshunt store, where we all bought a hearty lunch to
our own particular liking. We drove up to the river a few miles away
and while Ian and Charlie were to bring the Austin back, the rest of us
enjoyed lunch. Eating and washing, etc., finished, we set sail for Mansfield, where the usual amount of hamburgers and ice-cream was consumed before continuing on to Melbourne.
From the top of the gap above Alexandra we noticed that a very
interesting cloud bank hung over the Cathedral Range and the air becarne cooler as a strong southerly was blowing. Melbourne had obviously
not enjoyed the sunny weekend we had experienced. Darkness caught up
with us on the Black Spur and as we left the van at North Richmond
station a host of pleasant memories of the few days just passed to crowd
together to make it a most memorable Moornba.
WALK
Page Thirty-three
Hell's Window -
Photo by R. Taylor.
HIGH OVER THE
by Katherine Stock
It was late on Christmas Eve as a party of ten of us, led by Dick
Hughes, drove along the last stage of the track from the Stirling ring
road to Bindaree Hut. The journey was slowed down by three wombats
who lumbered into the path of the cars, became dazzled by the headlights and seemed unable to remove themselves without much tooting
and shouting from the passengers. Camp was established at midnight
at Bindaree on the upper reaches of the Howqua River, the campers
settling down for sleep to cries of "Happy Christmas!"
In the morning the cars were driven to the foot of the Howitt Spur
and left there before the party began the long, steep climb to the top.
Heavy breathing and frequent stops indicated initial strain, and there
was no doubt that the weight of Christmas fare was adding considerably
to the burdens.
Gradually, however, we rose higher and our attention was taken by
the rugged wall of Mt. Magdala appearing on our right, and to the
south by the spectacle of the Howqua Valley opening up below us in the
west. Steadily we climbed until reaching the snow gums where a halt
was called for lunch. Our resting place was a rocky outcrop, above the
valley, from which were magnificent views of Mt. Buller, Mt. Cobbler and
Mt. Stirling. There was a glimpse of snow on some of the Higher peaks
and a spectacular view of a thunderstorm sweeping up the valley towards Mt. Howitt.
Page Thirty-four
WALK
HOWQUA
FOR CHRISTMAS
We lunched and rested then moved on again, up through the snow
gums and out on to the treeless high country of the alpine peaks. By
contrast to the gay orange of the "Eggs and Bacon" of the lower slopes,
here tiny shrubs exhibited beautiful flowers of delicate creams, pinks, white
and yellows, interspersed with delicate eyebrights and little orange pea
flowers.
When we reached the cairn marking the summit of Mt. Howitt,
heavy cloud from the edge of the storm we had been watching, descended
upon us and we were forced to withdraw to the shelter of a rock. For
half-an-hour we enjoyed a reading of Banjo Paterson's poetry until,
eventually, the cloud lifted and our patience was rewarded with a
breathtakingly beautiful outlook over the roof of Victoria.
Far out to the north, beyond Terrible Hollow, The Viking and Mt.
Despair, lay the magnificent snow-touched peaks of Bogong, Feathertop
and Hotham. Further to the west we saw again the crown of Cobbler
and, once more, the snowy heads of Stirling and Buller. On all sides
spread range upon range of mountains, and there, on the south-eastern
slope just below us, lay a drift of snow. A great rush and temporary
riot ensued. Snowballs were hurled from all sides, cameras clicked and
bare hands quickly froze.
An hour later we had arrived at a delightfully sheltered campsite
in a small, grassy saddle by the Macallister Springs, the headwater of
the Macallister River. Tents were set up, fires lit and packs were opened
to reveal chicken, plumpudding, cream, Christmas cake, shortbread,
sweets, chocolate Santa Claus and gay balloons.
WALK
Page Thirty-five
Slowly the party ate itself to a standstill and the balloons appeared
as colourful decorations for tentpoles and guy ropes. Next morning, as
we set off, these same balloons bobbed merrily from the top of each
pack, tapping each walker on the head and then bouncing off again before
they could be caught.
We passed back over Mt. Howitt, now bathed in morning sunlight,
and walked eagerly towards Mt. Magdala, one party going to the south
of the peak, the other to the north. On rounding a wall of the mountain,
this latter party was confronted by a spectacular view up into Hell's
Window walled in on both sides by towering, rugged grey walls of
rock.
As we climbed up to join the others, it was overwhelming to look
down on the glorious valley below and to feel the privilege of being
able, for a little while, to be part of this country.
Early that afternoon camp was established below King Billy, or
No. 1 Divide. Here the buttercups were beautiful and we disturbed
cattle grazing on the lush grass near the spring. An evening walk up
King Billy rewarded us with softly, glowing twilight views of our day's
track, and, far in the distance, a glimpse of timbertop and hills around
Eildon. However, we could not stay long. Darrell was afraid it would
be dark before we returned. Then he realised he was still wearing sun
glasses!
Next morning saw everyone feeling fresh and vigorous, walking
strongly and steadily, and revelling in the glory of the sunshine. The
winds were bracing and everyone's senses were keenly attuned to the
joy of the birdsongs and the loveliness of the surrounding bushland.
By mid-morning we had left our packs at the Bluff hut and were
threading our way over pink and grey rock and amongst colourful tiny
bushes to the top of the Bluff itself. And there, at last, beyond Timbertop, and at the foot of rolling brown hills, we could see the waters of
Eildon. A feeling of great satisfaction lay over the group and for a long
time we sat in the sunshine and absorbed the beauty of the entire
scene.
Once back at the hut a rapid descent was started down a jeep track
(2,500 feet in one hour) from alpine plains bare of trees, through twisted
snow gums, down through a stand of Woolly Butt and into the magnificent Mountain Ash typical of many lower mountain slopes in Victoria.
Brilliant flowering shrubs appeared everywhere, melodious birdsong
could be heard, and the pleasant sound of the Howqua River rose to
meet us. The camp at Pike's Flat provided welcome baths in the river
and a long leisurely evening round a cheerful fire. A brief disturbance of
the peace was created by one member's unorthodox performance of the
Can-Can in boots, jeans and ground sheet. But nothing was able to
keep people long from sleep.
A three-mile tramp and we reached Bindaree next morning, thankful
that the overcast and humid weather had arrived no earlier. In four
days we had completed a rough circle from Bindaree hut, into the mountains, along the curving wall of the valley, and back down to the hut
again. We had met only one other small party doing the same trip, but
in reverse, and we had enjoyed very good weather. Indeed, there was no
doubt at all that we had all had a very happy Christmas.
Page Thirty-six
WALK
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WALK
Page Thirty-seven
MOUNTAIN MUSTER
The bushfires last March in the Nunniong area saw the tragic end
of a unique cattleman's hut on DIGGERS HOLE SPUR. This hut, constructed of beaten out 4-gallon tins carried in by packhorse, and rough
snow gum boles, was known as the Dripping Hut because of the condensation on the underside of the roof dripping on to any occupants.
Don't be surprised if that jet-port on the HOWITT PLAINS is to be
shortly complemented by several helicopter pads on adjacent ranges in
the near future. No, for firefighters, not Reg.
Before the opening of last Winter's season, skiers' interests made
habitable again the Diamintina and Blowhard huts. These two shelter
huts in the MT. HOTHAM region have been in a long decline of disrepair for quite some time-undoubtably on account of their proximity to
the road. Another renovation in the same area was the Dibbin's Spur
snowpole line.
Every State has its own variation and manner of bushwalking. One
of the latest we heard comes from the Hawkesbury Sandstone Belt,
N.S.W. This is CANYONEERING. In other words, the exploration of
side-canyons entering the gorges as tributaries. The walls of the sidecanyons may be only a few feet apart yet extend to several hundred
feet in depth. Once the canyoneer has reached rock bottom, he gropes
his way through gloom and darkness to the downstream opening.
Thanks to the efforts of the Puffing Billy Preservation Society, the
little train resumed its regular run between BELGRAVE AND EMERALD on 31st July, after a lapse of twelve years. West coast walking days
memories were awakened at the sight of the train hauling a parlour
coach the first of four coming from the now closed Mt. Lyell railway.
It is with regret that the closing of the LILYDALE-WARBURTON
LINE is noted. Walkers will miss the convenience which this mountain
railway gave in the way of access to the Yarra Valley and Warburton
Plateau areas.
From TASMANIA comes news of track clearing in the South-West.
Last year saw the completion of the Ayre-Port Davey route, via Cracroft Crossing and Junction Creek, together with the western end of
the South Coast track, as far east as the Ironbound Range.
In the Cradle Mountain-Lake St. Claire National Park a new
access tourist road leads directly to Dove Lake. It has been said that
Cradle Mountain itself may contain workable ores of tin! There have
been official moves to acquire pockets of private land remaining within
the boundaries of the Reserve.
(See also "Tasmanian Newsletter").
Page Thirty-eight
WALK
A link between two states could well be "forged" by the mysterious
appearance of the OZENKADNOOK TIGER reported in the far western
part of Victoria. A photograph of the alleged creature was featured in
the daily press some time ago, stumping the experts and starting a vain
search by a hunting party who scoured the area. However, last June, a
correspondent to "The Australian" pointed out that if he wanted a
similar picture of the animal all he would have to do would be to take
his camera to the Hobart Museum. They have an excellent diarama
featuring a thylacine, or Tasmanian tiger.
In time much of the bare look about the YOU YANGS will go thanks
to the planting of native trees there last August. A new development
in re-afforestation is the use of aircraft. Aerial sowing of Alpine Ash
seeds was introduced by the Forests Commission in areas affected by the
bushfires. This year 75 million Red Gum seeds were dropped in a 200
acre clearing in the Barmah Forest, near Nathalia, northern Victoria.
NEW MAPS
Last year was one of considerable activity especially regarding maps
issued by the various govermental departments. Many new titles and
editions have appeared on the scene. Being impracticable to list them
all, here are some of the more interesting maps published recently, and
where you can get them:Military Maps:
Jamieson 1:50,000.
Skene 1:50,000.
Matlock 1:50,000.
Aberfeldy 1:50,000.
Juliet 1:50,000.
McMahons Creek 1:50,000.
Obtainable from: John Donne, 372 Little Bourke Street, Melbourne.
Auski, 9 Hardware Street, Melbourne.
Robertson & Mullens, 107 Elizabeth Street, Melbourne.
Forest Commission Maps: Feathertop A, B, C, and D, 2" to 1 Mile.
Obtainable from the Forests Commission, 453 Latrobe Street, Melbourne.
Lands Department Maps: Gembrook A, B, C and D, 2" to 1 Mile.
Obtainable from Department of Lands and Survey, Central Plans Office,
Treasury Place, Melbourne.
WALK
Page Thirty-nine
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• PEDOMETERS,
Page Forty
87/3.
WALK
SEEING WHAT IS LEFT
At the first world conference on National Parks in the U.S.A. in
1962 it was pointed out that no significant opportunities for the preservation of Hora, fauna and national parks would remain anywhere in
the world by the year 2000. By this time numerous plant and animal
species would be doomed to extinction. Concerned with the urgency of
the problem as it affects Victoria, the Victorian National Parks Association
held a special meeting in March, 1965 and resolved that:"1. We commend the proposal of the Council of the V.N.P.A. to
conduct a scientific study of Victoria with a view to preservation of
areas which contain features of botanical, zoological, geological or scenic
interest.
2. When the plans are finalised we will ask the organizations which
we represent to encourage the undertaking and to help it financially".
It is of interest to note that the total area of existing National Parks
is only 0.6o/o of the land area of that state.
The plan was outlined by Dr. Specht of the Botany Department. He
visualised a two-stage plan, firstly surveying what is preserved and
what is not; and secondly, pinpointing the deficiencies. This would provide a clearer picture of where to set up areas for nature conservation.
He spoke also of a senior research student in the Botany Department
who would be able and suitable to carry out such a survey. The study
would take two years to execute and would cost £4,000, to be raised
from sympathetic bodies and associations.
"There is always somebody with great authority ready to explain
that we must get on with the huge and destructive romp of 20th
century living regardless of all consequences, and not attempt to protect
or to propagate that we know full well to be things that are true and
honest and pure and lovely and of good report. Those who should be
throwing their full weight into the defence of such things are busily
trying to be 'with it' and arguing the case for the destroyer".
From retiring address of Col. Haythomthwaite, Past
President o£ The Ramblers Association (Gt. Btn.) as
quoted in ''Rucksack", Spring 1965.
WALK
Page Forty-one
The VALE to the
by Peter Ingram
We eased our aching limbs out of the compartment in the Second
Division and stamped some life into them on Moss Vale station before
moving off through the icy air to the nearest lodging house. There were
to be plenty of hard beds for the next week so it was just as well
to start off on the right foot.
Our starting point-the Fitzroy Falls, where, as is characteristic
of the Blue Mountains, one is suddenly confronted with this breathtaking
sight for the country is mostly flat or undulating. Here the quietly flowing Yarrunga Creek hurls itself over an escarpment on to rocks several
hundred feet below.
Although the forest cover in the area is mostly of the Eucalypt
family, below the falls in the valley grow cabbage palms, giant stinging
trees, vines as thick as one's thigh, and other vegetation such as is
found in a tropical rain forest. We spent the rest of the day looking
at other nearby falls, no less spectacular, access to them being provided
by well-cut tracks.
A three mile road bash on the second morning brought us to the
turn-off to an old saw mill. What a relief it was to be finished with
that hard road! Eventually, after following up several false leads, we
arrived at the old mill site and lunch. It was certainly fortunate to find
a soak close at hand as the countryside was particularly dry.
From this place an unmapped jeep track was observed heading up
a hill in a S.E. direction. "Shall we take it?" was the question. "It certainly seems to be heading in the direction of Kangaroo Valley and would
save us a few miles". No doubt most bushwalkers have been posed with
such a problem. Finally we made our decision and set off full of hope.
The track kept to the right direction for about two miles reaching
a point overlooking the Kangaroo Valley, which gave us our first view
of that place, the scene unfolding before our eyes looking almost unreal.
1,800 feet below, the Kangaroo River with lined banks of riveroak,
meandered peacefully through lush green fields. In the distance could be
seen the small village of Kangaroo Valley, our destination for that night.
Inspired by the view we set off with a new vigour, but-"That's
strange. The track seems to be swinging to the S.W. when it should be
going E." I will point out at this juncture that the valley is completely
encompassed by a high wall of cliff faces and the only access is by means
of tracks or roads. "Well, we'll just have to follow it and hope for the
best. Good Heavens, we've run out of track! Now what is this? An old
pack-horse track. We are not licked yet. We'll follow and see what
happens".
Page Forty-two
WALK
SEA
Kangaroo Valley.
Photo : F. Halls.
Down and down wound this picturesque track. It was obviously one
of the old pack-horse tracks used by the settlers long before the road
was made. Soon we arrived at an old deserted homestead; there the
track was lost in the grassy meadow and to our annoyance was difficult
to locate again. Eventually it was found behind long grass at the edge
of the selection. Still the track dropped and by the time we arrived at
the road our feet were protesting. A rest was called for. As we sat weary
by the roadside, a local farmer drew up in his ancient truck and offered
us a lift to Hampden, half-a-mile from our destination. We rose (and
our spirits too) to gratefully accept the kind offer and climb aboard.
Soon we were bidding good-bye to our friend and on the road once
again. A stop was made to photograph the imposing medieval-like Hampden suspension bridge, and then it was on to the Tea Room where we
replenished our stores and relaxed on the verandah in the warm afternoon
sunshine with a cup of tea and cakes.
The tents were erected on the adjacent deserted camping ground
and then came the luxury of a hot shower to wash away the dust and
aches of the past couple of days. To complete the pampering, several
of us made for the local cafe about a mile distant and treated ourselves
to a delicious grill. An interesting hour was spent here examining
samples of semi-precious stones which the proprietors had found in the
Kangaroo River.
We had read of a party of walkers who had gone up the Kangaroo
Valley leaving it by means of a certain pass. Our plan was to follow
their route but enquiries among the locals failed to reveal the whereabouts of this pass. Thus we set off next morning with some trepidation.
A lift offered by a passing motorist helped us over a mile or two of the
worst sections of the road, the road bash being mostly unavoidable.
As the sun climbed higher so did the mercury, and our energy
correspondingly declined. At last we arrived at the Upper Kangaroo River
post office and enquired of the postmistress the whereabouts of the elusive
pass. But its existance was still unknown and a 'phone call put through
to an old lady who lived several miles away in the Geringang Valley also
failed to elucidate any information except to come over and have afternoon tea with her. We took our leave from the kindly postmistress, but
not before she had treated us all to a glass of cold creamy milk.
The scenery grew more and more wonderful and the valley narrowed
so that the roadway deteriorated which was a good thing from our feet's
point of view. We were still in the dark about the pass and nobody was
looking forward to the prospect of a long walk back should it be
WALK
Page Forty-three
unable to be found. However, we were advised to see a timber worker
who lived further up the valley and who "might be able to help". We
were about to walk down his drive when by chance a party of bushwalkers appeared, stating that they had just come over the pass. At last
we had the desired information and off we set for the remaining two
miles for the night's camp.
The road, which by now had dwindled to a jeep track, wound
through dense rain forest. Little creeks murmured their welcome as we
passed them by. Finally we arrived at our destination, an old ruined
farmhouse. Here I was pleasantly surprised to find one of the best camp
sites on which I have ever had the pleasure of pitching my tent. The
grass was short but soft, whilst a short distance away a little creek
bounced along merrily over its rocky bed on its way to join the Kangaroo
River. This was all set in magnificent forset surroundings under a cloudless sky, a sight I'll never forget for many a year. As if this was not
perfect enough, the moon rose later that evening to bathe the whole scene
in its soft light.
Next morning we were loath to leave this lovely spot. After losing
some time in crossing the river we found the start of the track, one
that was probably cut by the first cedar cutters. This marked the beginning of the long 1,500 foot climb out of the valley. As the track was
well graded no great difficulty was experienced in the ascent. It seemed
to me as if we were walking through an overgrown garden, for many of
the shrubs and trees were of a type one expects to find growing in a park.
Eventually we arrived at another deserted farmhouse and again we
lost the track. After some searching it was found to be at the top of a
steep climb of about 100 feet above us. The track soon led to the pass
which is a creek gully cutting through the cliffs and in no time we had
finished the climb, a spot where the New South Wales waratah was in
full bloom.
Below us, stretching away, lay the Kangaroo Valley hazy in the
warm mid-day sun. After sufficient rest we set off again through featureless bushland for the Carrington Falls some three miles distant. Their
approach is heralded by a dull roar. What an awe-inspiring sight they
are! For 200 feet the Kangaroo River plunges straight down through a
narrow cleft in the rock to a pool of dark green water, and then flows
away through a high walled canyon. Access to one of the vantage spots
is gained by climbing down a ladder through a natural shaft and thence
through a tunnel. This brings one on to a huge overhanging rock 100
feet above the canyon floor.
After leaving the falls it was necessary to walk along the road owing
to the thick scrub and swamp. This was one of the least interesting
stages of the trip for we soon passed into open farming country and
finding a camp site proved a problem until a convenient patch of scrub
was found near a swamp.
Our destination the next day was to be the Minnamurra Falls National Park and we planned to approach it via a spur to the east of
Knight's Hill. We chose this spur because the map gave no indication of
its having any walls. A three-mile road bash next morning brought us to
the hill where we left the road and, when we had climbed it, had our
first glimpse of the blue Pacific.
Page Forty-four
WALK
We were interested to note a new TV. tower was being built to
serve the Wollongong area. Another mile and we were at the start of
our spur. Any doubts were soon dispelled when a jeep track was found
on it. Unfortunately the track soon deteriorated into a cattle track and
finally we were in thick scrub. The spur became narrower and rougher
and we were forced to climb around and under huge boulders until our
way was barred by a thirty foot drop.
This was it! It looked as though we should have to go back and
follow the road down, at least a ten mile bash. So near and yet so far,
for our destination was only a little more than a mile away as the crow
flies. However about two miles away on the opposite spur across the
valley was a power line. There was a chance that there was a track
underneath it, although the map indicated a cliff at the top of the spur.
As it was now lunchtime we relaxed on a sunny ledge, our disappointment
at having to turn back being somewhat compensated by the magnificent
view of the Pacific and Lake Illawarra, and the narrow coastal plain
to the north.
Several hours later we arrived at the power line and, on following
it to the cliff edge, discovered to our convenience that an iron ladder
had recently been installed on the cliff face. Soon we were at the entrance
to the Minnamurra Falls National Park and had selected a flat grassy
spot by the river for camp.
Later that evening when we were busy cooking our "dehyds" I
noticed a business-like looking torch approaching one of the fires. Curt
words were spoken followed by the disappearance of the fire. "What
do you mean having a fire here?" said the owner of the torch. "You
could set the whole place on fire. I've a good mind to tum you all out,
but I'll let you stay the night". My pleas about having a gallon of water
on hand, also that the grass was green and the fire restriction period had
not yet arrived were all in vain, and soon my fire was also a lifeless mass.
It is not pleasant to eat half cooked dehyd!
Next morning our visitor who turned out to be the Ranger apologised
for being so hard on us the previous night, but explained that he was
worried about the Park catching fire as there were fires burning all
around the district.
Next day, saying goodbye to our friend the Ranger, we set off on
the last lap to Kiama. After we had covered three of the ten miles a
passing motorist, unable to understand why people should walk, insisted
on giving us a lift for the rest of the way. (There is also a bus service
to the Park).
At Kiama we investigated an interesting rock formation known as the
"Blow Hole". This was first sighted by Matthew Flinders on his journey
down the east coast. We almost had an enforced stay at Kiama when a
railway strike threatened the South Coast Express, but only local services
were affected and we were able to arrive at Sydney on time.
In conclusion I would recommend this walk as being particularly
suitable for those who would like a week's walk without having to stray
too far off the beaten track. One needs only to carry three days' food
at a time and yet see some very grand country that's different. Early
Spring is the best season.
Maps used were Moss Vale and Kiama Military Survey.
WALK
Page Forty-five
A WORLD APART
SKI-TOURING ON THE BOGONG HIGH PLAINS
by M. Houston
Dawn! Crisp-extremely crisp-and clear. The sun's blood ball
bursts over the horizon giving pink sparkling life to the frozen snow,
uncurling fingers of cloud upwards from the dormant cloud blanket
over "Shannonvale". Smoke puffs suddenly from the chimney half buried
in the snow on the slope below, signalling to me that the sun has brought
life to Wilkinson Lodge too, and I go below to warmth and breakfast
elated with the promise of a perfect spring day for exploring this snow
world of the high plains.
A couple of hours later a little party, Stan, Barry, Bill, and myself,
heavily disguised with goggles, hats, and suncream, stands outside "Wilky"
ready to depart for a ski-touring trip to Mt. Nelse. We have made thorough
preparations. Besides carefully checking ski bindings to ensure they will
release in case of a bad fall, so lessening the chance of injury to ankles
and legs, we are prepared in case bad weather, which can blow up at a
moment's notice, forces us to spend a night out. A tin plate will serve
as a tool to dig a fox-hole for ourselves in the snow. Skis laid across
the top will form a roof, and extra clothes and two packs to put our
feet in (we thought four pairs of feet in one pack a little unhygienic)
should keep us reasonably warm. One extra requirement besides foodplenty of orange cordial, as thirst and a craving for sugar can be acute
in the snow.
Farewelled by our remaining companions we set off, our skis clattering on the frozen snow. Hard work it is to climb when skis make little
or no impression in the thick icy crust, so hard that at the bottom of Basalt
Hill, after a fast but careful run down from Wallace's Hut, we take
off our skis and walk up. An unusual hill this. It's wide, snow-covered
plateau-like top, rather desolate under a now steaky sky, is a little like
Antarctic wastes. The only breaks on the horizon are two black figures
trudging ahead, skis over shoulders, and the fence at the top of the
quarry. However, a glance behind across the valley to Wallace's and
beyond brings me sharply back to the high plains. Soon the sun breaks
through and disperses the clouds.
Another fast, steep, thrilling run takes us down into Langford's Gap,
where the pole line heading north-west to skirt Marm's Point is easily
distinguishable. Here we attach sealskins to our skis for the long climb
up the spur. Now that we can climb straight up without much effort
we have plenty of time to notice the little things around-hare and fox
tracks in the snow; the brilliant colours of the snow gums-greens,
yellows, browns, reds; the wrinkles, like folds of skin, where the branches
Page Forty-six
WALK
bend; the sun sparkling on the snow crystals carpeting whole slopes with
thousands of diamonds; the ice sheaths glinting on bare branches and, as
the sun melts them off, tinkling to the gruond to stick in the snow like
daggers.
At the top of the spur we take off skins. Behind lie the familiar
valleys and hills near Rocky Valley Dam, beyond-new country-high
round hills. The highest we think is Nelse-not a mountain, just a
gleaming ice-covered hill in this world where all is high. The hot sun
has melted the icy crust and softened the snow-our term for it, "glug"
-resulting in very slow runs downhill, but much easier climbing than
on ice. By-passing an S.E.C. Refuge Hut we tum north up a side valley
following the pole line with our objective straight ahead, and meet up
with seven Rovers, neighbours from the Scout Hut. Here we don skins
again and together begin the final ascent.
Half an hour's very hard work brings its just reward. We four
stand together on the summit of the third highest mountain in Victoria
and glory in the sight below, the first official party of Melbourne Bushwalkers based at Wilkinson Lodge to climb a mountain on skis. Truly
we are on top of a world apart. The summits of Cope, Higginbotham,
Hotham, Loch, Feathertop, MacKay, Fainter, and Bogong and the High
Plains themselves lie like a white island in the sea of blue ranges on
all sides. To the east and north-east the Cobberas, Pilot, and the Koscuisko plateau are just visible. We wonder if the skiers using the T-bar
at Falls Creek which we can just see in the distance, could feel the
same satisfaction with their downhill ski-ing as we do today with our
ski-touring.
The cold wind soon brings us back to earth. Stan and Bill decide to
go down to the Refuge Hut, Barry and I to go on to Mt. Nelse North
about il mile away in the hope of a better view of Bogong. Our hopes
are fulfilled and, in another half hour, Bogong lies before us, a giant
animal asleep under its mantle of snow.
Back then to Mt. Nelse, a thrilling run down its icy slopes, a slog
through the softening snow, and finally we reach the Refuge Hut for a
rest and a long-delayed lunch. This hut it seems is a cross-road on the
plains for signposts point to a dozen places. We follow the one pointing
to Wallace's and Cope Hut back the way we came, revelling in the
two-mile run down the spur, through the snow gums, to Langford's Gap.
Not far now. Up over Basalt Hill, down across the valley, up through
the gap past Wallace's Hut and across the slopes to "Wilky". Home at
last, sunburned and tired but knowing the plains more intimately and
richer surely for our experiences.
*
Imagine what this place would be
Without a bird or flower or tree
But only litter left by you and me.
C.W.A. Notice Board, Bright.
WALK
Page Forty seven
You'll Love TASMANIA
for Your Next HOLIDAY
In Tasmania you will find majestic mountains and tranquil lakes . . .
secluded bays and sundrenched beaches . . . cool green bushlands
and sparkling mountain streams . . . in fact, all the holiday maker
could wish for.
FOR FULL DETAILS CALL OR WRITE
THE TASMANIAN GOVERNMENT TOURIST BUREAU
MELBOURNE: 254 Collins Street.
SYDNEY: Challis House, Martin Pl.
ADELAIDE: 32a King Wiiliam St.
BRISBANE: 194 Adelaide Street.
Page Forty-eight
HOBART: Cnr. Macquarie & Murray Sts.
LAUNCESTON: Cnr. Paterson & St. John Sts.
DEVONPORT: 41 Stewart Street.
BURNIE: 11 Wilson Street.
WALK
Tasmanian
Newsletter
Tasmanian Scenery Preservation Board has removed from Dove
Lake, at Cradle Mt., the dinghies which used to be available for hire by
the public. The reason-vandalism, particularly since the new road down
to the lake was opened. On a number of occasions the fibreglass boats
were left adrift, or damaged, even to the extent of holes being bashed in
them. However, one boat, on a trailer, is being kept at Waldheim Chalet
for emergency use by the Ranger.
The accommodation huts at Lake Dobson, in the Mt. Field National
Park, have been relined, painted, and refurnished. They are to be fitted
with bottled gas cooking stoves and lighting, operated by two bob in the
slot meters. A new toilet block is also being built.
A conference of sales managers of Ansett-ANA in Hobart in August,
studying ways and means of co-operating with local bodies for increasing
the tourist trade, were told that proposals for a cable lift to the summit
of Mt. Wellington, costing £383,000, were being closely studied. Finance
was the main problem. Don't laugh-the annual report of our National
Parks Authority records a proposal for a chair lift in the Ferntree Gully
National Park.
The S.W. of Tasmania isn't what it used to be! Such is the progress
with the survey and access road for the Gordon River hydro-electric
scheme that the Hobart Walking Club is now able to run day trips to
Lake Pedder. In August, the road, anticipated to cost 2! million pounds
when completed, was within eight miles of Pedder.
The 1,000 members of the South-West Committee are doing their
best to focus public attention on the fate of the S.W., but Government
statements on the size of the dammed-up lakes, which will total several
times that of the Great Lake, remain vague. The scheme, when completed,
will have an output almost equal to that of the entire Snowy Mountains
Scheme.
The Premier, Mr. Reece, announced in August that plans of the
area proposed for inundation were not yet available, but said that, for
technical reasons, it may be necessary to alter the boundaries of the Lake
Pedder National Park. He considered that it was a matter of opinion as
to whether the flooding of Lake Pedder would increase or decrease the
scenic beauty of the area.
Adamsfield is enjoying a new lease of life, as an operational base
for intensive mineral surveying work being undertaken by B.H. Pty. Ltd.,
which has taken out prospecting rights over a wide area of the S.W.
of Tasmania. As a consequence, the old corduroy track into this former
osmiridium mining township is now in a very bad state with the pounding it is receiving from heavy vehicles.
WALK
Page Forty-nine
Pine and BeJar -
Photo by John Brownlie.
THE
SUNSET COUNTRY
by John Siseman
While bushwalking in the Hattah Lakes National Park in June this
year our interest was fostered in visiting the area immediately to the west
of the park-an area known as the Sunset country. Landrovers were
used extensively on the latter trip for two reasons:-(a) To cover a greater
distance in the time available (3 days). (b) On account of the absence of
reliable water all drinking water had to be carried. Fresh water is only
to be found in the tanks or dams, and even these may not be reliable
and will often be found dry. All natural water in the area is saline.
This remote area in the far north-west of Victoria is bounded on
the southern, eastern and northern sides by the Ouyen, Calder and
Sturt Highways respectively and by the South Australian border in the
west. A large proportion of this region is technically a desert, i.e., it is
waterless. Rain does fall, but it is immediately soaked up by the high
red sandhills.
The word "desert" somehow seems to always conjure up visions of
endless sand dunes with marauding arabs attacking the furthermost outpost of the Foreign Legion. No marauding arabs are to be seen in the
Sunset Country however, and, although the endless sandhills are there,
they are clothed with a fairly thick covering of mallee eucalypt, underneath which grow numerous other desert plants.
Those areas outside the mallee desert are called Copi Plains (see
below); rolling open grasslands with shallow salt pans and lakes. Fresh
water may be found contained in tanks-actually the earthen dams;
wildlife abounds throughout this region, as opposed to the mallee desert
which appears almost void of any form of life. A few sheep and cattle
are to be seen grazing amongst the stands of mallee, native pine (Callitris spp) and belar (Casuarina cristata).
On leaving the Ouyen Highway at Underbool and driving north, the
country changes from wheatlands to grazing country populated by a
few sheep and many thousands of galahs. A stop is made to view the
Underbool Pink Lakes-a deep, rosy-pink colour, shallow and extremely
salt to taste. The pink colour is due to the growth of microscopic algae
in the lake. These lakes, like many others in the area, are not fed by
any streams.
Page Fifty
WALK
Beyond the Pink Lakes the same type of country continues-open
grasslands, parklike in apearance where the first of many emus and
kangaroos are sighted. The next point of interest is a large Copi Plain
-part of it covered with water to form a shallow salt lake, the rest of
the plain covered with a profuse growth of salt-bush. By the side of the
lake a beautiful specimen of Green Mallee (Eucalyptus viridis) was found
covered with flower, and two brilliant green Ring-necked Parrots were
seen.
Copi is the local name given to gypsum of which large quantities
are to be found in the Mallee deposited on the beds of old lakes. Gypsum
crystals are often found by digging into the beds of these old lakes. The
Copi plains are quite common in this part of the Mallee.
The parklike grasslands continue until the Sunset Tank is reached.
This tank is actually a four-walled dam containing some murky looking
water, the only fresh water found in the area. The country beyond the
Sunset Tank takes on a new look. The open grassed areas become
smaller and fewer, and the mallee finally takes over completely, interspersed with many small stands of native pine. Here most of the kangaroos and emus were seen. A group of four emus were followed along
the track in the landrover and clocked at 40 m.p.h. before the emus finally
left the track to take refuge in the scrub.
WALK
Page Fifty-one
The sand dunes are now quite steep and high, and run in parallel
east-west ridges, blown by the dominant winds from the west. The
vegetation consists mainly of mallee with occasional pines and wattles
dotted amongst them. Views from the tops of the sand ridges reveal
vistas of more mallee covered sand dunes. The only breaks in the scenery
occur when burnt out areas are crossed, and here it is interesting to
note how well the native vegetation is regenerating.
A side trip to the west revealed little else except a very old incubator
mound of the mallee fowl or Iowan and specimens of wattle and a kunzea
in Hower. The lack of plants in Hower was disappointing since it was
intended to collect and record as many of the flowering plants that grow
in the area as possible.
Proceeding on through the desert the track becomes progressively
worse and harder to follow. Much mallee had grown over the track and
continual stops are needed to cut a path through the scrub. It takes
three to four hours to drive ten miles through this country before a well
defined road is reached. Five miles along this road and a further two
miles along a rough track brings one to the shores of Rocket Lake
fringed by an open forest of native pine and belar. Rocket Lake is a
huge, dry salt-pan three miles long and two miles wide, covered with
salt-bush. Out in the centre of the lake there is not a sound-no wind, no
birds-just silence. By the shore is a sea eagle's nest, deserted, high up in
a dead tree.
From Rocket Lake the road follows the permanent way of the
Millewa South railway; a railway line started but never finished, heading east until the Raak Plain is reached. The Raak is the grandfather of
all Copi Plains-an extensive Hat area about 100 feet above sea level,
and is dotted all over with shallow salt lakes and salt pans. Extensive
deposits of gypsum occur here and are worked commercially, the processing machinery standing stark against the Hat plain, upon which even
the salt-bush has a difficulty in surviving. The scene is one of utter desolation so a hurried exit was made following a working railway east from
the gypsum plant towards Nowingi on the Calder Highway. A few miles
further on and the Raak Plain is left behind and once more undulating
parklands are found. Mallee and native pine are the most prominent
trees to be seen and the area seems to hold an equal number of sheep
and kangaroos. We met the only train that runs to the gypsum plant on
the second of two level crossings.
After passing a large salt lake to the left of the road we reached
the Calder Highway at Nowingi in the late afternoon. We arrived home
in Melbourne at 1.00 a.m., very tired but contented after an enjoyable
weekend in an unusual part of Victoria.
•
•
•
"Most species of snakes occasionally engage in fighting their own
or other species generally in the mating season. Black snakes observed at
the Melbourne Zoo twist round each other, squeezing and writhing often
for several hours, or until one or the other has had enough.
The female pays no attention to the fighting".
in "Snakes of Australia".
Page Fifty-two
WALK
BOOKS FOR
- -.....:
_,.,_-
'·
..... .:If*"'
,.......
~ •
,
, . ,.. ~"'-o-'
....
__
BUSHWALKERS
" . ~•·""·
WALKER'S GUIDES
Another collection of maps and tracknotes (after the style of Snowy
Mountain Walks) appeared earlier this year. "A Walker's Guide to the
Scenic Rim of South East Queensland" has been compiled and published
by the Brisbane Bushwalkers. Price 11/6 plus postage.
Walkers contemplating a visit to "the West" should find a recent
booklet a help. "Come Bushwalking! Hints for bushwalkers in W.A."
tell what it is like to walk in the local conditions and what equipment
is required. There is also lists of walking contacts, camping grounds, and
also a guide to places of inexpensive eating and accommodation in Perth.
Issued by the Western Walking Club and the Y.H.A. Write for copies
to Youth Hostels Association of Western Australia, 50 James Street,
Perth, W.A.
In our home state Mr. J. Ross Garnet has written and arranged a
handbook entitled "The Vegetation of Wyperfield National Park" (N.W.
Victoria). A survey of its Vegetation and Plant Communities together with
a Check-list of the Vascular Flora as at December, 1964. This is the
first published account of the flora of any Victorian National Park that
is comprehensive enough to serve the needs of a visiting scientist or
interested tourist. A historical survey, and an included map of the Park
complete this well-illustrated guide. Published by the Field Naturalists
Club of Victoria in conjunction with Members of the Committee of
Management of Wyperfield National Park. Price 15/-. Available at Herbarium, Melbourne.
GROWING WILDFLOWERS
You've seen it in the bush-now how would you like to have your
favourite native plant, whether it be violet shy or stately forest giant,
growing in your own garden? To help such projects The Society for
Growing Australian Plants publishes a journal "Australian Plants" (a nonprofit making venture, producing quarterly, dedicated to preservation by
cultivation). Membership is open to any person who wishes to grow
Australian native plants. For information without obligation contact the
Secretary of the Society for your State. For Victoria and Tasmania:
(Sister) E. R. Bowman, 4 Homebush Cres., Hawthorn, E.3, Vic.
WALK
Page Fifty-three
Convoy stops under Sheokes.
Photo : B. Short.
ON SURVEY
IN THE
SIMPSON DESERT
by Barry Short
"Beyond the farthest Gov'ment tank, and past the farthest boreThe Never-Never, No Man's Land, No More, and NevermoreBeyond the Land o' Break-o'-Day, and Sunset and the Dawn".
Henry Lawson.
Wednesday, 29th August, 1962 began like any other day at the
Bureau of Mineral Resources, but, before the day was over, the pattern
of my life for the next four months was to be radically altered. During the
morning I was shown a copy of a telegram from Alice Springs which
read in part-"present party clerk medically unfit for Giles-Carnegie
survey, request replacement". "Well, Barry", said my boss, "how would
you like to be the replacement?" This was my chance. "When do I go?"
I said. "Monday".
So Monday found me bound by air for Alice Springs touching down
at 1.30 p.m., and stepping into the 80° temperature, a contrast to chilly
Melbourne. My two days in The Alice were busy ones, helping to provision the party and ascertaining my duties as Field Party Clerk.
Just before we left I was introduced to John, whom I was to help
in driving a four-wheel-drive 5-ton truck eight hundred miles west to
Page Fifty-four
WALK
our campsite at Mt. Beadell. In the convoy there were eleven other
Bedfords, three with drilling rigs mounted on the backs, six water tankers
and one truck fitted out as a workshop complete with bench grinders,
electric generators, welding plant, etc. There were also five Landrovers
and two International AA120 utilities, one of which contained all the
electronic apparatus necessary for a geophysical survey. Three fourwheel trailers were towed by the Bedfords, and the office caravan by
one of the Inters. Thirty-four people made the party-twenty-eight men
and four staff members' wives, two pre-school children and a dog. This
was our convoy bound for a point eight hundred miles west of Alice
Springs and four hundred miles east of Wiluna, W.A. There, in the
middle of the Gibson Desert, we were to carry out a geophysical seismic
survey to assess the likelihood of it being an oil bearing area.
The convoy drove south to Kulgera and on to Mulga Park, a distance
of 285 miles, all flat desolate country alternating with open plains and
mulga forest. On this stretch I was introduced to the art of truck driving.
On our third night out we camped beside a water tank. Just on sundown
two aboriginal stockmen brought a mob of cattle into the neighbouring
yards. The cattle had had no water that day and were very thirsty,
fighting mad to get at the water troughs and one of the stockmen had to
keep riding his horse at them, laying about with his stockwhip, and
endeavouring to keep the beasts at the back from trampling on those in
front.
Next day the country changed from the mulga and spinfex plains
to the grass and tree covered Musgrave Ranges. It was a refreshing
change to see live and fertile country again! Along this section we passed
a group of wild looking aboriginals dressed and undressed in all sorts of
odd clothing, and carrying an assortment of weapons ranging from spears
and boomerangs to rifles. Shouting and waving friendly to us as we drove
by, they looked as though to be on their way to Ernabella Mission about
a mile down the road. The following day we arrived at Giles meteorological station, 560 miles west of Alice Springs and 60 miles inside the
W.A. border. The men who operate this remote place offered us cold
beer. That night there was a bit of a party as very few people pass
that way.
We didn't get away till 11.30 next morning, driving out west past the
last of the Rawlinson Ranges to enter sand dune country. The road was
by now, at the best, a set of wheel tracks in loose shifting sand, while
at regular intervals of each about a mile, long dunes stood at right angles
to the road's direction. To me it looked for all the world as though we
were driving along the sand at a seaside beach. This was where our
troubles began, as even four-wheel drive vehicles bogged in the dunes
for which it was necessary to winch the trucks across the worst sections.
In the last three hours of that day we made four miles. The pattern
of vehicles bogged and winched across sand dunes lasted another two
days, until early on the fourth day out of Giles and the eighth out of
Alice Springs we reached Mt. Beadell, the proposed camp site.
A whole day was needed in erecting the big mess and kitchen and
office tents. My own tent was a little distance away in a patch of mulga
which afforded some shade and shelter from the hot sun. With wall-towall coir matting on the floor, a table, chair, Tilley lamp and camp
stretcher, I endeavoured to make myself at home. The camp's water
supply came from a bore, some fifteen miles away, sunk by a reconnaisWALK
Page Fifty.five
ance party the previous year. Contact with the outside world was maintained by wireless through the Flying Doctor Service which acts as a
telegraph station for the outback homesteads.
The local scenery of my habitat for the next three months was more
rocky than what I had seen in the previous few days, although still
quite flat. A thin mulga scrub straggled in patches sometimes ten to
twenty miles in length, all a uniform dark grey, except for the dead trees
pointing their stark and jagged yellowy-white limbs into a hard, blue
sky. Scattered around in small clumps, not much higher than the mulga,
were sheoaks, always looking as though their strength had been sapped
by the heat.
Dotted here and there and usually towering over the surrounding
mulga, which has a uniform height of about fifteen feet, were occasional
ghost gums, white trunks and dark green leaves standing out in contrast
against the drab grey and redness of the general scene. Outside the mulga
forests spread the spinifex plains, the grass growing in large spiny clumps
knee-high and up to ten feet wide, usually a light greeny-yellow in
colour. Mount Beadell itself was about seven miles away, little more than
a rocky hill standing out from the surrounding plains which stretch for
hundreds of miles in every direction. Wildlife is rare in this remoteness;
the whole area seems to be given over to flies, dust and heat.
After about a week in camp the party leader decided it was time to
send a truck into Wiluna or Meekatharra for supplies. Roy, one of our
mechanics, and I were chosen to go and we eventually left the camp
after a delay of thirty-six hours due to vehicle trouble. It was mid-day
when we passed through Carnegie Homestead, our nearest point to
civilisation, about 200 miles from camp. Just before Carnegie there is
a stretch of 100 miles of rough road where we broke a front spring.
However, we had to go on to Wiluna another 200 miles because the
only replacements available were there. We arrived at 9.30 p.m. and
booked into the only hotel still operating. It was a sheer luxury to have
a hot shower and to sleep in a decent bed between clean sheets after
three weeks of camp life. A quick look around town next morning showed
that it wasn't big enough to provide the quantities of meat and other
supplies we needed. It was this town which, at the height of the gold
rushes of the 1930's had boasted a population of 8,000 and four hotels,
but now has dwindled to almost nothing.
We drove another 100 miles to Meekatharra, a larger town having
four hotels. It is the rail-head from Perth and is the focal point for
cattle shipping in the area, and also owes its origin to gold. It took us
two days to arrange and collect our supplies, and, as we had no refrigeration in the truck, the fresh meat was the last to be loaded. With
the prospect of a 500 mile journey in temperatures of 90° and over,
it was essential that the time taken should be kept to a minimum. Alas
for our hopes! We started early on Saturday afternoon to repair our
broken front spring but on account of previous damage the truck chassis
was so twisted that the spring could not be lined up properly and it was
not until next day that it was finally positioned. But just as the last
"U"-bolt was being tightened, the centre bolt sheared off and all our
work went for naught. Fortunately we had another spring and after
much cursing was finally fitted and we were able to set off, driving until
11 p.m. in an endeavour to make up lost time. still, bad luck dogged us
on this section when a tyre blew out.
Page Fifty-six
WALK
On Monday morning the noise of the truck scared off five wild
camels in our path. Later in the afternoon we passed through Carnegie
Homestead and started along the 100 mile bad stretch. Suddenly there
was a crash and a bang! The rear shackle bolts on the front spring had
sheared off. We could do nothing but nurse the truck along as best we
could at 15 m.p.h. with a fear that we would soon become completely
immobile. The steering became very heavy and the foot-brake was almost non-existent. We drove on and on into the night. About 10 p.m. I
went to sleep in the passenger's seat, letting Roy drive. Next thing I
remember was that I woke up and it was completely dark, the headlights
were off and Roy was fast asleep over the wheel, after stopping. We were
just able to crawl into our swags before falling asleep again. Next day
we were met by a Landrover sent out from camp to take the fast
deteriorating meat back as quickly as possible. As soon as it arrived in
camp the cook got to work butchering and washing it in vinegar; even
so we lost nearly half, about 100 lbs.
Great Sandy Desert
Route of Seismic Parry No.2
My life now settled down to a regular round of clerical work and I
was seldom able to wangle trips away from camp. Late one afternoon in
October we received a wireless message from our flycamp at Mt. Everard,
some 60 miles away, that they were short of water. A 44 gallon drum
of water was loaded on to a Landrover and I was detailed to make the
trip and return the same night. However, halfway there on the outward
journey my vehicle broke down, and try as I might, nothing I did would
restart the engine. So there I was, stranded in the middle of the desert,
with no prospect of being picked up until at least the next day. I had
plenty of water, but no food apart from a tin of "bully" and some sugar.
I had nothing to read and nothing to look at but an endless expanse of
spinifex. After the sun had gone down it became very chilly, as is usual
at that time of the year, I was wearing only a shirt and shorts and
there was a long, cold night before me. A search of the Landrover produced nothing in the way of protection against the cold but a roll of
toilet paper. W01king on the principle that paper is an insulator, I
WALK
Page Fifty-seven
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(KRAFt)
for good food and good food ideas
Page Fifty-eight
WALK
wrapped it around my legs, closed the window of the cabin and settled
down to get what sleep possible After that cold night, I was up at dawn,
stamping my feet and swinging my arms to restore circulation. About
10 a.m. the mechanic arrived from camp and fixed the trouble and I
completed my mission, returning to camp after being forced to spend
twenty-four hours on what should have been a four hour job.
By November the day temperatures had risen until there was seldom
a day when it didn't go above 90° and below 65° at night. By midNovember the maximum temperatures were habitually over 105° and
twice it rose to 116°. There was no escape from this heat; the tents were
like ovens and stepping outside was like entering a blast furnace. Everybody wore shorts and only a few bothered with shirts. The only enjoyable
time of day was at sundown when the heat and the flies were going so
you could relax and glory in the coming coolness, and watch the sun
sink as a golden ball leaving a vast orange streak across the horizon.
Five days before we were due to strike camp and move out for
Perth, Ned and I were told to take a truck and trailer to Carnegie
Homestead and pick up supplies and petrol, leaving some of the stuff
at the Lake Keene flycamp on the return trip. A couple of days later
we arrived in blistering weather at the latter place, a string of claypans,
the flycamp situated on a sand "island", only a Landrover marking it,
without which no one would have known the camp was there the place
was so barren. It was no wonder the boys disliked the place. The shifting
sand blew into everything, and the temperatures were constantly ll0°,
and there was no protection from the sun. They worked and ate under its
burning rays. After a day's "rest" there we drove back to Mt. Beadell
arriving thirty-six hours later to find the camp being dismantled in preparation for leaving next day.
Next morning the gear was packed and during the afternoon we
were able to start moving for Wiluna. "This is what I've been waiting for
all the year", said my companion as he let in the clutch. Naturally we
drove as long and as far as we could each day to cover the 400 miles
to Wiluna as quickly as possible. There was another reason as well. With
a flat battery and no generator we had to push our truck each morning.
Our vehicle was no exception as most had something wrong, in fact,
three were left at Meekatharra to be railed on to Perth as they were
unable to continue under their own power.
Wiluna was reached after two days' driving and the rendezvous for
the survey was, naturally enough, the pub, where we slaked our thirst
with the first really cold beer for three months. That afternoon we did
the next 100 miles to Meekatharra and parked the whole convoy in the
centre of the main street for the weekend. After spending an enjoyable
and lazy weekend there, we drove on through Mt. Magnet, Payne's Find
and New Norcia, arriving in Perth on Wednesday night, a total distance
from Mt. Beadell camp of 1,000 miles. Four of us, looking like tramps
in dirty clothes and carrying dust covered luggage booked in at one
of the city's leading hotels. The receptionist looked disapprovingly over
her glasses and asked in cultured tones if we had coats, as they "liked
coats to be worn in the dining room". We assured her we had, and
came to dinner dressed as though we were going to a ball. Nine days
were spent in Perth winding up the convoy, then we all flew back to
Melbourne arriving just a few days before Christmas.
WALK
Page Fifty-nine
DAY WALKS
CASTLEMAINE-GOLDEN POINT RACE-EXPEDITION PASS
RESERVOIR-CASTLEMAINE
Distance: lH miles.
Transport: train to Castlemaine.
Description of route:
Leave east side of railway station and walk east along the street
past the post office. Half-a-mile from the station climb a fight of steps,
from the top of which a small clear gully is seen below. Traverse this
still travelling east, until a boundary fence of Kalimna Park is crossed.
Follow a path east through the park to a road at 278268. Cross this
road and continue east through light scrub. Skirt a kangaroo fence and
join a dirt road running north and south at 284265. Travel a short
distance north then swing right (E.) over a small bridge. The road
is followed through undulating grazing country for a mile until it joins
a further road running north and south at Midnight Flat (291265). A few
yards south a track heading east is taken, passing through a young
eucalypt stand for two miles. Cross the Golden Point Race then drop to
the road at 321271 and go north for half-a-mile to the lunch site on the
western shores of Expedition Pass Reservoir. (5 miles from Castlemaine).
After lunch follow the western shore of the reservoir and pick up
a track, going north, which begins to climb Lawson's Lookout above a
large quarry. Drop down to the floor of the quarry from where several
tracks head west, any one of which should, before long, begin to climb
to the pine forest situated half-a-mile west of Lawson's Lookout. The
plantation provides pleasant walking as the track descends generally
west. Once again several tracks are available, any of which may be
taken in a westerly direction through the trees. Join the road running
S. to Moonlight Flat at approximately 295284. In one mile the road
junction at Midnight Flat 291265 is reached again. From here the outgoing footsteps are retraced to Castlemaine station.
MAP REFERENCE:
Castlemaine, military, 1 inch to 1 mile.
NOTES COMPILED: March, 1965.
G.E.
Page Sixty
WALK
LIKE
TO
HIKE?
••••••••••••••••••
Special tickets enable
hikers to leave Melbourne
on one line, walk across
country to join a return
train on another line.
FULL PARTICULARS AVAILABLE AT:
The Victorian Government Tourist Bureau
272 Collins St., Melbourne. (63 0202) or
Chief Commerical Manager, Railway Offices
Spencer Street (62 0311 ext. 1346)
WALK
Page Sixty-one
FOR A GOOD
N I G H T'S SLEEP
BUY A
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Manufacturers of
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SLEEPING BAGS IN HOODED OR QUILT STYLES
For very cold conditions our special walled Sleeping Bag is ideal.
This can be filled to your own requirements. Designed by an
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you will encounter.
OBTAINABLE AT ALL SPORTS STORES
PURAX FEATHER MILLS, PRESTON
Page Sixty-two
WALK
BALD HILL-WERRIBEE RIVER-MT. HOPE
Distance: 10 to 12 miles according to route.
Transport: Private.
Water: Must be carried for lunch unless the Werribee River is to be
reached.
Description of the Route:
Leave transport on Ballan-Blakeville road about 3 miles from Balian
(292678) where a track branches W. Follow track over fairly level open
country for i mile to a cross track, then another ! mile ending in a
N.-S. track (267680). Follow this track N. 6 miles up a hill and through
two gates. At the second gate (266695) Bald Hill is immediately to the
N. but as it is in private property it is better to detour around it by
following the fence W., then N. for ! mile, then W. again between paddock fences to a gateway leading into the forest (about 263700). Once
through the gate, tum sharply right along a track leading N. through
the scrub. Keep a N.-N.N.W. course among the timber tracks for about
a mile until an E.W. road is reached. (Not marked on the map but
links the Blakeville and Daylesford roads). This road is followed for
a mile W. until reaching the junction of a road running N. (also not on
map but should be about point 240720). This point will be reached about
lunchtime so that the junction could be a lunch site, or, if a longer walk
is desired, the Werribee River is a further mile W. along the road.
Now go along the northerly road for about 200 yards looking for
a track on the right leading into the scrub. Follow this until it peters out
then keep N. up the hillside to the top of a spur. From here follow tracks,
keeping in a N.E. direction for I! miles eventually crossing a large creek
(not on map) and coming out on the Ballan-Blakeville road on the S.
side of Blakeville. From this point Mt. Hope is visible to the N., but
it is better to follow the road than cross private farmland.
Approximately i mile N. of Blakeville leave the road and follow an
overgrown track on the left (about 265745). Where this ends in a private
paddock keep W. for about ~ mile across another creek (marked on map)
and up a steep climb to the remains of the old fire-tower on Mt. Hope.
Alternatively, Mt. Hope can be reached by skirting Blakeville and
following a more northerly course from the spur taken after lunch. If
the party reaches the Werribee River, Mt. Hope can be reached by
following a N.E. course through the forest without returning to the road
junction.
After reaching Mt. Hope follow track N. to the junction of three
roads (257753). Take left fork W. for 3 miles to Spargo Creek Hotel on
Ballan-Daylesford road (212758). About a mile along this road there is
a northerly road (Spargo Ck. Rd.) not marked on the map, and a little
further on is a southerly one, also not on the map, which links with the
road junction at the campsite.
MAP REFERENCE:
Balian and Daylesford, military, 1" to
mile.
NOTES COMPILED: September, 1964.
S.E.
WALK
Page Sixty-three
AVONSLEIGH-COCKATOO CREEK-LAVENDER HILLHULTGREN'S BRIDGE
Distance: 10 miles.
Transport: Electric train to Belgrave, Gembrook bus to Avonsleigh.
Description of the route:
300 yards along the Gembrook road past the Avonsleigh Store-P.O.
take a road going up the hill on the left until it branches near the top.
Follow the lefthand road going N.N.E. then N.E. for ll miles along ridge
with the last section dropping sharply down to crossroads. Take centre
road (N.) for ! mile then turn right (E.) along a side road climbing to a
high open hill. The made road ends at a farmhouse but continues as a
track along a timbered ridge with occasional clearings on the left. Ignore
any side tracks until meeting a wire fence. Here the track turns to the
right and follows a spur E. then N.E. down to a sheltered valley where
the Cockatoo Creek is crossed by a sapling bridge. A suitable lunch
site can be found in a grassy clearing on the far side of the stream.
(4 miles from Avonsleigh).
The track now continues for 3 miles through timber to meet the
Cockatoo-Worri Yallock road. Walk north for 100 yards and cross small
bridge. Turn into paddocks (E.) keeping creek on right and climb hill to
reach farmyard in 1 mile. Turn right, keeping outside fence, and follow
wheel tracks through banksia scrub until overlooking dam. Turn left to
climb to the highest point of the ridge thus gaining an excellent view of
the surrounding ranges. This spot is landmarked by an old fibrous plaster
bungalow.
Continue S. and S.W. along ridge track for another mile passing
through a large patch of timber before reaching "Lavender Hill". A
sharp turn to the right (W.) leads in 1 mile to crossroads. (Poultry farm
on N.E. corner). Follow right hand branch N.W. for ll miles to regain
the Cockatoo-Woori-Yallock road. Turn right for 1 mile, go round corner
to cross Hultgren's Bridge and climb gravel road for about 200 yards.
Look in scrub on left for a track going steeply up spur. In i mile this
track becomes a formed road following ridge S.W. then W. for the last
mile back to Avonsleigh.
MAP REFERENCE:
Broadbents No. 278E.
Emerald-Gembrook District.
NOTES COMPILED: May, 1965.
A.S.
•
•
•
There was once a young walker named Porth
Who took care in which way he stepped forth,
Points south, east and west
Being never his best,
He invariably kept to the north.
Page Sixty-four
WALK
TWO DAYS
ACHERON RIVER-MT. RITCHIE-MARYSVILLE
Distance: 16 miles.
Suitable seasons: October to December, or, as a snow walk, in July to
September.
Transport: Train to Lilydale, bus to Warburton, hire car to Acheron
River. Return bus from Marysville.
Description of the route:
About 1l miles past the Acheron Gap the main road crosses the
Acheron River where a jeep track will be seen on the right (E.) Commence walking along this track climbing the northern side of the river
valley to reach a junction in !- mile. One track continues ahead but the
main path swings to the left climbing up to a fire-break approximately
H miles from the start. Disregard a jeep track on the right heading east,
and keep going north on the fire-break track, rising steadily to Mt. Ritchie.
About !- mile before the summit a branch road on the left (W.) leads
out, in 1 mile, to a snowplain. If camp is made here, water may be
obtained from a tank at an old derelict hut. Generally, water is scarce
along the ridge and is mainly obtainable from tanks. There are three
small huts on the summit of Mt. Ritchie (4,100'), one with a fireplace
and tank. The firetower offers extensive views of the surrounding mountainous countryside.
Just past the huts the fire-break and jeep track separate, the former
dropping steadily westwards, while the latter takes an easier gradient
down to the east, but both rejoining at a saddle some 300' lower in the
north-west. The fire-break ends here leaving the track to continue along
the ridge, then through a gate (l mile before summit) where there is a
small hut but no water. After passing the hut on the right the track
sharply right turns (E.) heading for the Paradise Plains area. A fire-break
has been cleared on the summit, running north and south, and extending
200 yards north of the hut. Ignore a jeep track leaving the clearing to the
left (W.) and continue north to the end of the clearing where the remains
of a timber tramway will be found beside an old fallen firetower. The
tramway is rather indistinct and covered in fallen timber. However, to
avoid the steep western slopes of the north running spur, keep a little
to the west of north (350° true) and so arrive at the winch-head of a
second tramway where there are more huts.
This tramway, or High Lead, descends a steep 1,200' on a bearing of
309° true. It is overgrown but easy to follow. Three-quarters of the
way down a flat point is reached from where the rest of the track has
been recleared, with snig tracks running off at right-angles until finishing
at a log-loading platform by the road (Anderson's Mill Road). Turn
north into this road, passing an abandoned settlement on the right. Continue straight ahead to ford a creek, and in l mile a signpost and road
junction will be reached. Take right hand branch leading into Marysville
in ll miles. The left hand branch-Taylor's Road-goes to the St.
Fillans road further west.
MAP REFERENCE:
Juliet, Quarter Sheet Sections, A, C & D.
Lands Dept. 480.
NOTES COMPILED: September, 1964.
R.S.
WALK
Page Sixty-five
INDEX TO TRACK NOTES PUBLISHED IN "WALK"
DAY WALKS
DANDENONG RANGES
Vol. 3-63
Avonsleigh-Shepherds Ck.-Beers Hill-Cockatoo. 12 miles
Vol. 17-64
Avonsleigh-Cockatoo Ck.-Hultgren's Bridge. 10 miles
Vol. 6-64
Clematis-John's Hill-Kallista-Belgrave. 111 miles . . . .
Vol. 15-65
Emerald-Hultgren's Bridge-Cockatoo. 10 miles ..
Kallista-Olinda State Forest-Olinda Falls-Olinda. 10 miles Vol. 16-55
Vol. 1-23
Lilydale-Olinda Ck.-Lilydale. 14 miles ..
GIPPSLAND
Vol. 8-67
Bunyip-Two Mile Ck.-Mt. Cannibal-Garfield. 13 miles
Egg Rock-Blue Range-Tomahawk Falls-Beenak Falls. 11
Vol. 8-64
miles . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ..
Ewart's Park-Blacksnake Valley-Tomahawk Valley. 10 miles Vol. 10-61
Narre Warren North-Listerfield Hills-Heany Park-DanVol. 4-62
denong . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Robin Hood-Brandy Ck.-Camp Hill. 11 miles ..
Vol. 3-61
Tynong-Cornucopia-Nar Nar Goon. 15 miles ..
Vol. 7-63
Vol. 16-59
Shelly Beach-Portsea-Koonya Beach. 11 miles
YARRA VALLEY & NORTH-EAST HILL COUNTRY
Vol. 15-67
Bald Spur-Strathewen-Mt. Sugarloaf. 12 miles ..
Bruce's Creek-Morrison's Ck.-Cottrell Spur-Wescott Ck. 12
Vol. 12-62
miles . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Vol. 13-53
Clonbinane-Shepherd's Hill-Mountain View. 10 miles
Vol. 6-60
Healesville-Mt. Riddell-Badger Creek . . . . . . . .
Vol. 14-65
Killara-Warramate Hills Tarrawarra. 15 miles . . . .
Kilmore East-Dry Creek-Mill Range Road-Wallan. 15 miles Vol. 16-59
Kinglake-Jehosophat Valley-Bald Spur-Strathewen. 10 miles Vol. 4-60
Vol. 4-60
Mernda-Arthur's Ck.-Yan Yean. 12 miles ..
Vol. 16-57
Mt. Hickey-Strath Creek. 11 miles . . . . . .
Mount Tanglefoot-Mt. St. Leonard-Maroondah ReservoirHealesville, via Meyers Ck. 10 miles or Condon's Gully,
Vol. 7-62
12 miles . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Seville-Warramate Hills-Killara. 10 miles . . . . . . . . . . Vol. 4-64
Sylvia Creek-Blowhard Range-Victoria Range. 11 miles .. Vol. 15-68
Sugarloaf Hill-Mt. Disappointment-Toorourrong Reservoir.
Vol. 14-63
9 miles . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Vol. 14-64
Warburton-Mt. Donna Buang-Milgrove. 12 miles ..
Wattle Glen-Pretty Hill-Kangaroo Ground-Warrandyte.
11 miles
.. .. .. .. .. .. ..
Vol. 6-60
Whittlesea-Toorourrong Reservoir-Jack's Cascades . . . . Vol. 2-63 &
Vol. 6-59
Yarra Glen-One-tree Hill-Yarra Ridge-Yarra Glen. 12 miles Vol.12-63
NOTE: Back copies of "Walk" are available at room 110, Railway Building, Flinders Street, Melbourne, on Friday evenings. Also obtainable
from Auski. Vols. 1 and 12 are out of print.
Page Sixty-six
WALK
DAY WALKS-continued.
WESTERN & NORTH-WESTERN
Bald Hill-Werribee River-Mt. Hope. 12 miles
Vol. 17-63
Ballan-Moorabool River-Mt. Egerton. 13 miles
Vol 13-54
Ballan-Whipstick Scrub-Ballan . . . . . .
Vol. 10-60
Castlemaine-Golden Pt. Race-Expedition Pass Rsvr. lli
miles . . . .
.. .. ..
.. .. ..
Vol. 17-60
Daylesford-Hepburn Springs-Mt. Wombat ..
Vol. 6-57
Diggers Rest-Organ Pipes-Keilor Plains-S. Albans. 12 miles Vol. 9...59
Fern Hill-Coliban River-Coliban Reservoir-Kyneton. 10 miles Vol. 9-58
Golden Point-Blue Mountain-Barry's Reef. 10 miles
Vol. 14-64
Geelong Area . . . . . . . . . . . .
Vol. 14-68
Vol. 15-63
Macedon--Mt. Macedon-Woodend. 13! miles
Sunbury-Emu Creek-Sunbury. 12 miles ..
Vol. 12-64
WEEK-END WALKS
GIPPSLAND
Deep Creek-Franklin River-Boolarong-Turton's Ck.- Tarwin
Vol. 13-56
.. .. .. .. .. ..
East. 20 miles
Vol. 9-61
Dromana-Cape Schank-Flinders. 23 miles ..
Harkaway-Upper Beaconsfleld-Caversham Hill-Beaconsfield.
Vol. 4-59
18 miles . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Vol. 7-59
Wild Dog Creek-Korumburra. 20 miles
YARRA VALLEY & NORTH-EAST HILL COUNTRY
Acheron Rv.-Mt. Ritchie-Mt. Strickland-Marysville. 16 miles Vol.
Old Warburton-Mt. Bride-Blackwood Gulley-Big Ck. Road
Vol.
24 miles . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Marysville-Keppell's Falls-Lake Mountain. 16 miles . . . . Vol.
Wesburn-Britannia Falls-Mt. Myrtalia-Big Pats Ck.-Warburton. 23 miles . . . .
Vol.
Yarra Glen-Paul's Range-Healesville ..
Vol.
Yarra Glen-Mt. Everard-Hurstbridge. 24 miles
Vol.
Yarra Junction-McCrae's Creek Falls-Gembrook. 22 miles Vol.
17-65
10-59
13-58
11-64
5-55
5-57
1-24
THE NORTH-EAST
Seven Creeks Gorge-Wombat Gorge-Charman Falls. 15
Vol. 13-57
miles
.. .. .. .. .. .. .· .. .. ··
Vol. 6-55
Charman Falls-Mt. Wombat-Seven Creeks Gorge ..
Wandong-Sunday Creek-Mt. Disappointment-Sugarloaf Hill.
Vol. 16-51
24 miles ..
WESTERN & NORTH-WESTERN
Blackwood-Old River-Darley Ford. 21 miles . . . .
Bullarto-Lerderderg Rv.-Blue Mountain-Trentham. 15 miles
Gisborne-Pyrett's Ck.-Mt. Bullengarook-Trentham. 34 miles
Lerderderg Ford-Bear's Head Range-Long Point-Ford. 15
miles . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . · · · · . . · · · · · · · ·
Taradale - Fryerstown Tower-Crocodile Reservoir-Spring
Gully-The Monk-Castlemaine. 20 miles
WALK
Vol. 14-65
Vol. 7-60
Vol. 5-59
Vol. 12-61
Vol. 14-62
Page Sixty-seven
LONG WEEK-ENDS
Baw Baw Plateau-Walhalla . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Castlemaine-Vaughn-Mt. Franklin-Daylesford. 25 miles ..
Fry's-Lickhole Ck.-The West Governor-Lickhole GapLyrebird Hill-Eagles Peak-Sheepyard Flat. 23 miles ..
Gilderoy-Seven Acre Rocks-Gentle Annie Gap-Gentle AnnieTarago River Falls-Neerim. 31 miles . . . .
Melville's Caves Reserve . . . . . . . .
Mt. Cole State Forest-21 miles ..
Mt. Stirling-Stanley Name Spur-Crosscut Saw-King River.
30 miles . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Taradale-Glenluce Springs-Loddon Falls Glen-Lyon-Lyonville. 26 miles . . . . . . . .
Vol. 1-26
Vol. 11-67
Vol. 13-60
Vol. 9-55
Vol. 8-11
Vol. 16-53
Vol. 15-61
Vol. 12-56
EXTENDED TOURS
Four days and more.
Benamba-The Cobberas-Mt. Kosciusko. 115 miles. 10 days
Beverage Flats-Mt. Selwyn.Mt. Murray-Mt. St. Bernard.
4 days . . . . . . . . . .
. .....
Castleburn-Jump Up-Mt. Kent . . . .
Licola-Middle Ridge-Mt. Skene-Licola. 55 miles. 4 days
Licola-Wellington Rv.-Bennison Plains-Mt. WellingtonTarli Karng. 85 miles. 7 days . . . . . . . . . . . .
Mt. Wills-The Long Spur-Mt. Bogong-Tawonga. 6 days
Narrabarba-Nadgee-Mt. Nagha-Genoa Bridge. 60 miles.
8 days . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Tarli Karng-Mt. Wellington-Mt. Arbuckle--Kelly's HutDennison Plains. 44 miles. 4 days
Western Approaches to Mt. Feathertop
(1) From Freeburgh 2 days.
(2) Via Bungalow Spur i day.
Vol. 13-63.
(3) Via Bon Accord Spur 1 day.
Vol.
2.53
Vol. 12-52
Vol. 15-58
Vol. 3-58
Vol.
Vol.
1-30
2-60
Vol. 14-55
Vol. 14-58
If you are interested in ...
DAY WALKS
WEEKEND WALKING
EXTENDED TOUR WALKING
Then write for details to the Hon. Secretary at our Clubroom,
Room 110, Railway Building, Flinders Street, Melbourne, or CALL AND
SEE US any Friday (8 to 10.30 p.m.).
MELBOURNE BUSHWALKERS
VISITORS are always WELCOME on our walks.
80 Walks a year are listed on our Walks Programme!
Page Sixty-eight
WALK
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