MBW Walk magazine 1983 - Melbourne Bushwalkers

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Editor: Glenn Sanders
Advertjsiftr.Roy Watson
and Bob Douglas
Business Manqer: Mutin Ellu
WALK is a voluntary, non profit venture published by the Melbourne Bushwalkers to
enhance people's appreciation of the natural world and to encourage bushwalking as a
healthy and enjoyable recreation.
Printed by Humphrey and Formula Press, Bayswater, Victoria, (03) 729 4255
CONTENTS
Editorial .. . . . . . . . .. .. .
Campaigning for Wilderness, Geoff Law
Elyne Mitchell, Graham Wills-Johnson .
BMLC Course, Gail Pearson . . .
Snow Camping, Graeme Laidlaw . . . .
Bogong in Winter, Philip Taylor .. . ..
Valley of the Devil's Holes, Fred Halls .
Rock Climbing, Glenn Sanders . . . . .
Letter from Central Australia, Anne Walley
What's in a Name, Joan MacMahon .
Tasmanian Rivers Pictorial . . . . . .
First Aid, Ross Hoskin . . . . . . . .
Colo ... Solo, Graham Wills-Johnson .
Basic Mountaineering, Bill Metzenthen .
Mad Dogs and ... , Arthur Francis
Shrinking Snow Gums . .
Fire on the Snow, Yeti . .
Mapping, Philip Larkin
Book Reviews .
Track Notes . . . . . .
3
5
8
21
23
25
30
33
37
39
Centre pages
51
53
62
65
67
69
70
72
77
Cover photograph by Graeme Laidlaw
- Glenn Sanders
Frontispiece: Discovery Bay
The editor of Walk 1983 would like to thank all those who assisted in its publication
and who are not acknowledged in the text.
MELBOURNE BUSHW ALKERS
always welcome visitors on their walks which include easy one-day excursions and
weekend trips. Extended walking tours of three days or more are also included on
the programme. If you are interested, then call in any Wednesday night from
7.00-9.00 p.m. to the clubroom, Racing Club Lane, Melbourne (at the rear of
Bushgear, 377 Little Bourke Street). Details may also be obtained by writing to the
Honorary Secretary, Box 17 51 Q, Melbourne, 3001.
2
EDITORIAL
It was mid-February, 1982. For the first three days as fires raged around Strahan,
far to the north west, we had walked through a pall of smoke so thick that we could
hardly see Precipitous Bluff from Prion Beach. Now we stood at Deadmans Bay and
watched, helpless, as a fire destroyed the headland east of the shelter hut. Walking
around in the smouldering ruins it was easy to see how the fire had started: where
someone had camped a fire pit had been dug. They had probably even covered it
over before leaving, not realising that the ground was peat. Now, two days later, we
were woken several times at night as large trees toppled, destroyed from below as the
fire burned on far underground. Rangers we met later at Melaleuca said that the fire
was eventually put out by men with digging equipment and pumps, flown in by
helicopter.
Later, high in the Western Arthurs, we sat out a two day blizzard. Outside the tent,
the only signs that others had been there were the muddy foot tracks, filled now
with hailstones, and the ugly scar of a campfire. It was in too exposed a position to
have been for warmth and sustenance in an emergency. I wondered what they had
been burning, and how anyone with any sensitivity could think of lighting a fire in
that place.
I remembered the previous year, en route to Frenchman's Cap, looking at the
remains of a campfire outside the hut at Lake Vera where a bushfire had started,
burning out the Rumney Creek valley and well into the rainforest above Philps Lead.
Rainforest, unlike Eucalyptus forest, does not regenerate quickly, if at all.
There were other memories: once in the Budawangs, well away from the popular
tracks, I was absolutely disgusted to find the only clearing I had come across during a
long and exhausting day marred by an ostentatious ring of stones and a pile of
charcoal.
Last year Melbourne Walker suggested that bushwalkers use stoves instead of lighting
campfires. The Tasmanian Wilderness Society has proposed a ban on fires above
750 metres at any time, and in national parks and conservation areas from December
to March. Walk too asks all bushwalkers to preserve our few remaining bush and
wilderness areas by abandoning, however reluctantly, the time-honoured and
traditional campfire. Enough is already being done by others to erode our natural
heritage - let us not add to this process for transient and selfish reasons.
Fire is but one way in which bushwalkers damage the environment they enjoy.
Sheer pressure of numbers in popular areas creates foot tracks and obvious campsites.
Use of wilderness by organised, and, increasingly, commercial recreation groups
leads to pressure for trails to be cleared and marked, provision made for emergency
vehicle access, and restoration and construction of huts and snow pole lines.
This is a more subtle and insidious threat to the wilderness than the large 'development' projects. Each case, it is usually argued, represents only an insignificant
change, but taken together over time they add up to a massive intrusion into, and
destruction of, wilderness.
In many cases those who argue in favour of marked trails and other facilities do so
from a desire to see remote areas in safety, because they lack the skill and confidence
to do without such aids. But those who wish to surf must first learn to swim, and so
it should be in bushwalking, for to modify the wilderness to suit the walker is to
destroy the wilderness.
3
As more unskilled people venture into the bush we are in real danger of creating a
new generation of walkers who do not even realise that it is possible to enjoy the
bush without marked trails, and huts, and a group leader who does all the
'navigation'. It is very easy for experienced walkers to fall into the same trap - but
any walker who is pleased that it is now possible to reach Federation Peak in a few
days cannot logically complain if roads are pushed up Feathertop, or Bogong. How
close is close enough? We have already gone too far, and the time is long overdue to
call a halt. We have enough huts, tracks and trails: we have so little wilderness.
- Glenn Sanders
Runutjirba Ridge, above Simpsons Gap, near Alice Springs
4
-Anne Walley
CAMPAIGNING FOR WILDERNESS (AND SO ON)
IN TASMANIA (AND EVERYWHERE ELSE)
Geoff Law
In the May 1982 election, the Wilderness Society suffered one of its greatest setbacks.
All the indications had been that the conservationist candidates, behind whom the
Society had put all its resources, energies and hopes, would win the balance of power
in the new Parliament, possibly halting forever the infamous Gordon-below-Franklin
Scheme. That the party most committed to the building of this destructive dam could
be elected was unthinkable. And the unthinkable occurred. The Tasmanian Liberal
Party won government, and within months, minor works on the scheme had
commenced.
Given such a stunning rebuff, one might have been excused for expecting the
Wilderness Society to drift into obscurity and disrepute: a poor deluded band of
vociferous fools, clamouring futilely against the inevitable. Yet six months later the
campaign to save the South West is at its strongest. It is still growing. The Society has
moved its Hobart headquarters to a veritable mansion; in the wake of a mesmerising
national tour by the Director of the Society, Dr Bob Brown, new branches and shops
are sprouting like mushrooms; the issue still grabs insatiable media coverage nationally
and even internationally; the Federal ALP has adopted a strong 'No Dams' policy
for South West Tasmania; and, at the time of writing, pressure on the Prime
Minister to intervene on behalf of the World Heritage South West wilderness is
reaching a feverish climax. In September he had over 6000 unanswered letters on the
issue to contend with, and was being continually bombarded with expressions of
outrage over the project from international organisations.
The primary reason, of course lies in those untouched, hidden corners of South West
Tasmania. The mystery and grandeur of this wilderness, conveyed through the most
evocative photography, have aroused in people all over the world their natural
empathy for places wild and untouched.
But without the enthusiasm and commitment of the literally thousands of people
who have played an active part in the campaign, and the battle to save Lake Pedder,
the wilderness would be long forgotten and the scheme well under way: the visual
harmonies of forest, mountain and stream irrevocably violated by metal and concrete;
sudden sounds of chainsaw and machinery disrupting the murmurings and silences
of nature.
The Wilderness Society has become the cradling organisation of these voluntary
workers - the mechanism which allows the transformation of enthusiasm to work,
and facilitates the infectious spread of emotion. Feelings of anger, sadness and
frustration, when harnessed, lead to the positive actions and responses which change
the way we think and behave, and the way society works, whether these actions be in
the form of an angry letter, the purchase of a sticker, a meeting with a politician, the
writing of an article, or the organisation of a multi-media event. The Wilderness
Society, with its ready accessibility and infallible ability to create work for its willing
supporters, and through its communication of the magic of the South West, has
always been able to trigger these actions, thereby welding still further the ego, psyche,
personality, soul or whatever of each participant to our objectives, strengthening the
individual and collective resolve.
5
The Wilderness Society also allows the sharing of ideas, experiences and emotions of
those involved in the struggle. To campaign as an individual is to grope and stumble
in the dark. The unpublished 'letter to the editor', the exhaustive and polite, but
still somehow dismissive reply from the politician fill one with feelings of futility.
The essential faith that others care is too abstract. And the bland and objective
headlines seem to ram home a chilling message of defeat. One soon learns that the
only defence against depression is indifference.
When working with others, however, there is a reinforcement of resolve. Setbacks
can be suffered with humour, not despair. Shared difficulties promote friendship, and
with it the ability to bounce back. And the dreary, monotonous, tedious, repetitive
and boring tasks which any organisation necessitates, (the endless collating of newsletters; the interminable sticking of stickers on envelopes!) become jovial sessions of
cameraderie.
For spontaneous, confident people, an organisation such as the Wilderness Society
provides a source of achievement, satisfaction and personal growth almost without
limit. Projects barely conceived are initiated and suddenly reality. The flexibility
and openness to new ideas of the Wilderness Society, by encouraging such initiative,
have been its strength. (The inevitable consequence, of course, being our perpetually
'hopeless' financial situation. See advertisement.) But for shyer people, the road to
full involvement is harder. Hamstrung by self-consciousness, one suffers long periods
of feeling sidelined, excluded, unless powerfully committed, or until patience wins
out. The ability to overcome such weaknesses for 'the good of the cause' is perhaps
potentially the greatest personal benefit to be had from participation in something
perceived as being of slightly greater importance than the self.
The Franklin River will never be dammed. Yet even if this (now) six year campaign
were in vain in that respect, there have been many important consequent achievements. Those easily listed include the abandonment by Geopeko of its application
for a mineral exploration license covering part of the Cradle Mountain-Lake St. Clair
National Park. This came about due to the Wilderness Society's investigation and
vocal opposition to this violation, (the Tasmanian Government, of course, being
apathetically acquiescent to the whole deal). A similar outcome occurred in April
1981 when milk bottles were reintroduced to the Tasmanian market, thereby
allowing personal rejection of the formerly arboreal milk carton. A moratorium on
most development in the South West has existed for some years, (there are, of course,
certain exceptions), due to the efforts of conservationists. Another consequence of
the campaign has been the acceptance of many areas of the Tasmanian wilderness on
the prestigious and exclusive World Heritage Listing, from the South Coast to Cradle
Mountain. This will render subsequent exploitation of such areas almost impossible.
And when the pressure of the all-consuming (but vital) battle against that dam eases,
the Wilderness Society will be able to tackle properly the appalling woodchipping
problem that exists in Tasmania. A ruthlessly exploitative forestry policy by
successive governments has led to one third of the state's area being allocated for
clearfelling - this includes huge areas of rainforest, one of the world's most rapidly
vanishing habitats. The struggle against these companies, who have a stranglehold on
Tasmania's economy, may well make the present altercation with the dam-builders
look like a Sunday school picnic.
Of the achievements of the Society less easy to define, change in public awareness of
the environment is probably foremost. The campaign has often been referred to by
the Director as a 'public education program'. 'Wilderness' is now no longer an
entirely Biblical or derogatory term, (though it is still used in the latter sense with
considerable glee by many of Tasmania's politicians). And we are learning that the
processes that destroy wilderness spring from the same roots that cause some of the
world's environmental and social problems.
6
Whatever the outcome of the overall battle to save the South West, (and it certainly
won't finish with the halting of the Gordon-below-Franklin Dam), the time and
energies spent by those involved in this magnetic issue will have been put to
inspiring use. The skills learned will ultimately be used elsewhere, on behalf of other
wilderness areas, in different environmental movements, and other spheres of
humanistic achievement. Nobody can emerge from such a campaign unchanged. We
all feel more keenly our place in society and the environment. The interrelatedness of the way we regard ourselves, the way we behave towards others, and
the way we harmonise with nature becomes stunningly clear, as does the realisation
that this planet's salvation lies ultimately with the individual. So if you care about
our fragile and beautiful world, and are appalled and frightened by the way we are
treating it, don't despair! You are not alone. Anger can be put to good use. Just
remember to 'Think globally and act locally!'.
TO HELP SAVE TASMANIA'S WILDERNESS YOU CAN:
Join the Wilderness Society, and/or give a donation.
Write to the Prime Minister, any other politicians, AND your LOCAL Member of
Parliament expressing your fears for the Tasmanian wilderness. The Federal
Government has a legal and moral responsibility to safeguard this unique area.
Write to media about the issue.
Contact your local Wilderness Society branch (Melbourne phone number is
(03) 67 5884; Hobart (002) 34 9366 -ring for information about branches) to
see if you can help in the campaign. We are always in need of more helpers.
Suggest that your bushwalking/naturalist/nudist/etc club becomes affiliated with
the Wilderness Society.
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7
Some Australian Bushwalkers - 6:
ELYNE MITCHELL
Graham Wills-Johnson
'I was ashamed to realize that I could hardly think or care about bombed Darwin.
Nothing seemed to get past Singapore in my mind; but perhaps all of us unconsciously
increased the work's tempo on that day. What else could we do? Our right place was
here, our work was with the cattle and sheep, producing food for Australia and
tending the land.'l
At the end of a long, hot summer, early in 1942, Elyne Mitchell found herself facing
a grim, lonely and uncertain future in which sudden heavy responsibilities had become
hers even as the resources normally at hand to discharge those responsibilities were
dwindling inexorably away. Tom, her husband, had been captured in the fall of
Singapore. After the first few terrible weeks of uncertainty she was able to know with
some assurance that he had survived the fighting - word came through from men who
had escaped - but no one knew what had happened since the surrender, and she was
to hear nothing more for three and a half years. Towong Hill station was left in her
trust through those years of silence.
At times it was impossible not to compare her lot with that of the women who had
pioneered the settlement of the Upper Murray valley. They, too, knew loneliness, but
it was not filled with the dread that destroys. Accidents could, and did, happen, but
the men were not just 'missing'. Certainly those women would never have understood
that a time might come when there would be no men left to do the work; a time, moreover, when keeping up levels of production was vital as it had never been vital before.
To wong Hill station looks across the flat green valley where the Swampy Plains River
and the lndi meet, forming the Murray, to the western wall of the highest mountains
in Australia. 2 Those mountains and Towong Hill have become Elyne Mitchell's life.
She, in turn, has made those mountains her own as no other writer has done. There is
no doubt from the point of view of Australian bushwalking that the most important
of her books is ' Australia's Alps', published in 1942. With less than half its present
population, Australia was then almost the antithesis of the pluralistic society it has
since become. 'Australia's Alps' would then have addressed a collective Australian
consciousness in a way which simply is no longer possible. When, two years later, the
government of New South Wales moved to set aside the Kosciusko region as national
park, it found its pigeonholes well-lined with Myles Dunphy's plans for action3 ; but if
Dunphy, in his quiet way, succeeded at the bureaucratic level, 'Australia's Alps'
focused the attention of the general public on the area and the potential that it had.
The book had been finished and sent off to the publishers before the dire events of
1942 began to unfold. But the years of freedom in the mountains were over - not
indeed for a further seventeen would the snows of Kosciusko be as familiar with her
skis as in years gone by - and now there was Towong Hill. Towong Hill was
fortunate indeed in its manager, F.H. Herbert. Mr Herbert had been on the property
since 1906, the time of Tom Mitchell's father. Eve, Elyne's younger sister, not long
out of school, c:fme up to Towong to help out for the first few months. If they were
difficult times, one of the most potent weapons in the armoury was a good laugh. For
instance, trying to get a herd of bulls to cross the Murray River: 'The bulls gave endless
trouble. Ifoneofthemseemed to be willing to stand still for a time, Mr Herbert would
quickly tell Eve to watch it, saying 'Go on, they're perfectly quiet. Don't get in their
way, of course, if they're coming at you.' He and I splashed offacross the river to the
island where the others had gone, leaving Eve looking rather doubtfully at her
grumbling charge.', or again, 'We were relieved to find, that night, that the mutton
8
- Courtesy Elyne Mitchell
quite tender, because the sheep's adventures, before being killed, had been rather
extraordinary; it finished up in the Herberts' [ow/house. There we had tied its legs
and Mrs Herbert produced her wheelbarrow into which we laboriously heaved it and,
all pushing hard, wheeled it, looking like Pigling Bland, up to their stables- where it
did have a little time to cool off before being killed.'
\WS
In the dark days of winter, however, Eve had to go back to Melbourne, and Elyne
was alone in the large two-storey house on the ridge. By now even the domestic help
there had always been in the past had gone, attracted to the cities by new wartime
jobs that had come into being and the high wages that went with them. lf there was
any time to spare from concern with the land it was taken up by the demands of the
house. It was even a case of having to learn how to cook, since Towong Hill had
always had a cook in its employment in the past. Above all, however, she found herself fighting for the land itself. With worried eyes she watched the heavy winter rains
carrying more soil down on one side of a large erosion scar, and compared this with
the way it held on the other. There, with ideas then unfamiliar in Australia that they
had brought home from America, where the Tennessee Valley Authority was beginning
to show some successes, Tom had contour-ploughed the year before. She wished she
had the resources to plough the unprotected side. A cold, misty, drizzly day in
August found her with one hundred seedling trees in her rucksack, high up on a slope
which never should have been cleared decades before, planting. She fretted as wartime
shortages deprived her of wire netting needed to protect the gullies against further
scouring. There was the constant war against the rabbit plague, which she realised as
many then did not, was far more a menace because of the contribution the rabbits
made to erosion than because of the amount they ate.
By 1946, three years of active involvement in the fight for the land led her to the
publication of 'Soil and Civilisation'. 'He who rules the mountain rules the river', she
says, quoting an all-too-often neglected Asian proverb as her thinking on conservation
takes her back to her beloved mountains. She points to the importance of the condition of the soil of the high country and of the lower, forested foothills in controlling
the release of water to the streams and rivers. Floods, siltation, and the gross
reduction of summer flow, inevitably follow the deterioration of the catchments.
A soil grain holds no water by itself; it is the organic material, material which becomes
depleted if the foothill forests are cleared or burnt, which soaks up water like a
9
sponge. Concerning the snow-country itself, she could hardly be more explicit:
'Sheep should never be permitted to graze on these mountains. Their close eating
habits leave the soil unprotected and their small hooves beat down the springy bogs,
rrr1king the surface impervious to moisture. Yet hundreds of them are shepherded on
the vast Bogong Swamp below Jagungal and startled flocks go leaping down from
under the mountain's rocky head as one rides up out of the snow gums. Sheep range
all the country round Mawson's Hut up near the source of the Valentine, and they
are there in winter, fending for themselves in the snow. They graze on the Grey Mare
and the slopes of the Rocky Plains Creek, in the unexpected basin on the summit of
The Ghost, and round its lower slopes by the Valentine Falls. But there, at the foot of
the falls, it is easy to forget how heedless Australians are of the land that gives them
life..... >4
It seems ironic, therefore, that a completely harmless adventure in February 1949 was
to provide the opportunity, nearly thirty years later, for an ego trip by some unknown
armchair conservationist whose memory in all likelihood would not go back even as far
as Sputnik, and who has probably never published a word on soil erosion. By 1949
the war had been over for three and a half years. Tom was shortly to become
Victorian Attorney-General, and was to remain MLA for Benambra until 1976. The
politics was Tom's business; Elyne's place was with Towong Hill, with her family (Indi,
Walter-Harry, Honor and John were born between 1946 and 1955), with her writing,
and with the mountains. In 1949 the Upper Murray valley was a remote and isolated
corner. Corryong, then much smaller, was approached from the opposite direction,
there being no road over the Koetong plateau. No road crossed the mountains anywhere between the road from Tumut to Cooma and the road from Cooma to Orbost.
The town of Khancoban did not exist. There were, however, cattle tracks.
One track ran from Tom Groggin up the west side of the Indi before crossing over
and climbing up to Cascade Hut. From Khancoban (station) a cattle track climbed
the valley of Back Creek (rather than following the route now followed by the Alpine
Way) before dropping over the crest of the Geehi Wall to the Swampy Plain River.
From there it followed much the present line of the Alpine Way to Tom Groggin and
up the Leatherbarrel Spur to Dead Horse Gap, where it met the Cascades trail. Hannel
and Pierce in 1930 cleared another track for the cattle, branching off from this one at
the junction of the Geehi and Swampy Plains rivers, up what is now known as Hannel's
Spur. 5 Closest to Towong there was the heavily-used track up the Long Spur. During
the depression the government had put a relief gang on to build a road up to Bradney's
Gap, whence, marked on the map as the Waterfall Trail, it makes a short start up
towards the Big Darga!. 1f we can guess their purpose (other than to provide employment), perhaps they had in mind a link something like the present road past Tooms
Dam to Cabramurra and Kiandra (of which places only Kiandra then, of course,
existed). Further north a track ran up Welumba and Shingle Creeks. At intervals all
through the high country there were old track and trails made by the carts of miners
and prospectors. The benching which can still be seen at Pretty Plain (at grid
reference 156957) is that of one such track, used by bullock drays coming in from
Kiandra.
Such had been the march of technology - and the progress of general affluence - that
it is probably impossible to re-create for a generation which never knew it a time when
the motor vehicle was not ubiquitous and invincible. Nevertheless, when Tom
Mitchell decided to take on the western wall of the mountains he was taking on what
then was a true wilderness, with nothing like certainty of success. Olaf Moon's
summary of the adventure was transcribed from the logbook at Pretty Plain Hut into
an article in a past issue of 'Walk' 6 • Whoever subsequently vandalised it would have
done better to have saved his energies to be directed against those who are truly
responsible for the demise of wilderness: engineers with heavy earth-moving equipment, boundless empire-building ambitions, and unhealthy contempt for the authority
of Parliament, and a capacity to generate ridiculous demand projection data.
10
Sibyl Elyne Keith Chauvel was born in Melbourne 30th December, 1913 and grew up
in South Yarra. She married T .W. Mitchell 4th November, 1935. If we are struck by
the apparent inappropriateness of a city childhood as preparation for the responsibilities which later were to become hers, perhaps there is a better chance of understanding how it was that she carried them out with such success if it is explained that
she was the daughter of General Sir Harry Chauvel, who commanded the 1st Light
Horse Brigade on Gallipoli and later led the Desert Mounted Corps (the largest body of
cavalry ever used in modern war under a single commander) against the Turks in
Syria. Their successes did much to bring the Turkish military effort to an end in the
first world war. Horses, then, were always available from the remount section at
Victoria Barracks, and played a large part in young Elyne's life as she grew up. 7 Moreover, although generations of Chauvels had soldiered with the Indian Army, in
Australia the family had a pastoral tradition based on the Northern Rivers district of
New South Wales as well. When Elyne, newly married, moved to Towong Hill, it was
to a continuation of a life half lived on horseback.
The world, before the war, lay at the young Mitchells' feet. There was skiing in New
Zealand, skiing in Canada, skiing in Chile and Argentina, skiing in Europe, skiing in
the Rocky Mountains of the United States. True, E!yne's skiing career had begun
unpromisingly enough with a trip to Mt Buller just after she and Tom were engaged.
The weather was foul, it blew all the time, she didn't seem to be getting anywhere
with her skis, and she hated it! 8 Things seemed to be going from bad to worse on
their honeymoon in New Zealand. Tom had been the New Zealand skiing champion
two years earlier, so the skiing party they joined at Arthur's Pass consisted, apart from
one other woman, of experts. Fortunately one of the older members of the party,
George Lockwood, a solicitor from Christchurch, noticed that Elyne had been nervous
about going, and took some trouble to get them properly started. Once over this first
hump, Elyne took to skiing with such effect that she won the Inter-Dominion Slalom
TAX DEDUCTIBLE DONATIONS:
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through the Australian Conservation Foundation,
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11
at Kosciusko in 1937, the Canadian Womens Downhill at Banff in 1938, and the
Victorian Championship at Mt Buller in 1939.
This speaks much of youthful energy and robustness, but there were intellectual
pursuits as well. Elyne Mitchell tells us something in 'Speak to the Earth' of a
tradition of scholarship which has always been scattered in the most unexpected
places out in the untouched bush. Here and there lived men who read Latin and
Greek, and whose conversations, when they met, brought a piquant aura of ancient
cloisters to mingle strangely with the scent of gums. She tells a story of old Mr James
Finlay, who had To wong Hill before the Mitchells, sitting up a tree in the middle of a
freshly-sown paddock with a book in classical Greek on his knee. At intervals, when
the marauding cockatoos had gathered thickly, he would put down his text, and fire
at the birds with a shotgun before resuming his study.
Tom had read law at Cambridge, and added many books to the library at Towong
Hill. After they were married he took up his studies again with a post graduate course
at Harvard. Elyne enrolled in classes at Radcliffe College. More books came home with
them to Towong Hill: philosophy, law, biography, international affairs, skiing,
mountaineering, geography, travel.
Drenching, dagging, dipping, treating for fly strike, hoof trimming against footrot:
sheep were sheer hard work. Now it was October 1942, and there were sheep to be
shorn and no shearers to be had. Grimly, we may imagine (he was to take his first
holiday in years when it was all over), the steadfast Mr Herbert set about to shear
them himself. Elyne and the boy Alec were to catch them for him, but it soon became
clear that the two catchers were rather under-employed, and so '.... if I caught and did
my own, the work would be evened out a little, in spite of the certainty that I would
be slow, never having handled shears before. It was better to be slow and let the
method of trial and error be on the side of taking too little wool rather than a snick
out of the sheep, and the fear that I should suddenly find my sheep tailless weighed
rather heavily on my mind.' Were ever sheep more gently shorn? 'This was a job that
needed more knowledge and practice than foot-rotting, and far more lasting strength
on one's hands. It occurred to me that if I ever wore gloves again after the war was
over they would have to be a size or two larger.'
'In one of those inconsequential flashes of comparison, the thought of Melbourne in
the spring came into my mind - parties there used once to be, and Tom and I dancing
together. It was so rarely that I seemed to imagine Tom in anything but khaki drill or
his ski clothes. This time he was in his tails and I smiled to think of my white chiffon
dress in contrast with boots and overalls and the smell of sheep..... '
Elyne Mitchell is very, very tough.
But '.... .!knew, as I looked up at the mountains that were still snowy, that the white
chiffon and the parties were not missed in this life, only Tom - Tom and our hill
wanderings together.' At a moment when she could be spared during that year there
was a rather wistful, solitary climb up the Long Spur, carrying skis; but rain fell
heavily on her lonely tent, and there was no skiing.
By the time the winter of 1943 came around, Towong Hill had become more adapted
to a wartime routine. It was a very heavy snow year, and this time when Elyne took
her skis up the Long Spur, it was with a friend, 'Charles' Lane-Poole. The tragedy near
Summit Hut on Bogong had happened only weeks earlier, so, for the peace of mind of
those at home, the women promised they would camp below the snow line. As
recounted in 'Images in Water' 9 , however, the snow was lying very low indeed,
certainly where they pitched the tent near the creek at the bottom of the steep climb.
After a fine day's skiing around the Broadway Top they went back down to their
camp, where, about seven in the evening, it began to snow. It must have continued
snowing heavily all night, because they were woken at four in the morning by the
12
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13
sound of large tree limbs, laden with snow, crashing down all around them. There was
nothing they could do, apart from bringing that potent weapon out of the armoury
again, until daylight, when they were able to move to a small place that was a little
more open and light a fire and survey the wreckage of the forest.
With Eve (on leave from the WRANS) there was a skiing trip to Jagungal in 1944, but
after that it was not until1959 that she had the opportunity to do much skiing. These
were the years of raising a family, and it was then that she started writing her long
and successful series of 'Silver Brumby' books for children. Since 1959 she has again
become a familiar figure among the Kosciusko snows, and at 68 seems to have more
energy than ever. Speaking, for example, of 'The Man from Snowy River' I o, she
laughs and says 'I think that nearly drove all of us mad. We were very busy at the
time, and it came as a commission through my agent from Michael Edgley International, with a very short deadline. It was unthinkable that I should turn it down, of
course - that's my territory - but it got to the stage where I was typing pages
between sets during our local tennis tournament.'
It is, however, the world of 'Australia's Alps' and those carefree years before the war
which are our main concern here 1 1. Some of their summertime wanderings in the
mountains were on foot, usually those starting from the end of the government road
at Bradney's Gap where, like modern bushwalkers, they would leave the car. One such
walk was up over the Big Darga! to Smokey Plain and out to West Darga! Peak. By her
report, the ridge is very scrubby in places. On another occasion, when they knew that
Tom would not be there in the winter, he showed her the way from Pretty Plain hut
over to Grey Mare so that she would be able to find it on skis. Trips to more distant
parts were made on horseback, however. One such she made leading a party of twenty
Girl Guides. 'I don't know whether it's the skiing or the mountains', she had once
said to Tom. Now she knew it was some mysterious property of the mountains, which
forever seemed so elusive as to its exact nature, and wondered if it would vanish in so
much company, needing solitude for its effect.
It was a day's ride up over the Geehi Wall, and the party camped on Geehi Flat. They
were in what then was the wildest and remotest corner of the Alps, under Townsend.
A day was spent on a side-trip when from here they rode their horses up Read's Spur
towards The Pinnacle. High on the ridge, they ate their lunch looking up at the even
higher mountains. Somewhere in the lower country lying in between, tucked away in
a dense tangle of ridges, was Wild Cow Flat. 'It is very rare that a beast gets up there;
rarer still if it gets out again. But it has happened that one or two, missing for years,
have been seen there, and recognized by some cattleman with a horse good enough to
get him there and back again.'
They moved on over to Tom Groggin the following day and, after a day swimming in
the river and visiting the stockmen at the outstation there, rode on the day after that
up to Dead Horse Gap. There was then a hut there, owned by H. & A. Nankervis of
Tom Groggin. 'This was the threshold of the high mountains and the old excitement
came over me with its fervour and its hunger and its strange content.' The following
day saw them ride up over Ramshead to the summit of Kosciusko, then over
Carruthers Peak and down to Blue Lake for lunch. Their return to Dead Horse Gap in
the afternoon was by way of the Kosciusko summit road (which had been opened as
early as 1909), the upper Snowy crossing and Ramshead. Sudden rain and thunder
accompanied them, but even the hail which followed could not pierce the 'chain mail
of happiness' which the mountains had laid on them. Next day they rode to
Cascade Hut and down the extremely steep track from there to the Indi River. Sunset
saw them back at Tom Groggin by way of the bridle track along the river bank.
If the past two days had been long ones, the next was to be longer still. Elyne had
bribed Mr Nankervis, over whose land and snow leases they had been riding, with
several onions from the company's supplies, to take three of them up to the summit
of Pinnabar. She wondered several times during the long and tiring day which
followed whether he might be regretting having made the bargain.
14
- Courtesy Elyne Mitchell
15
Elyne and Torn had made the first ascent of Pinnabar on skis in 1939. Any claims
made to primacy, and there are several, are carefully considered. Not only were they
a part of the 'modern' skiing fraternity based on places such as the Kosciusko Chalet,
but they were familiar with the doings of the 'butterpat' brigade as well. Thus, in
'Speak to the Earth', 'The McPhees would not come down before the snow forced
them. No McPhee considered the time right for a trip over the hills with cattle for a
Corryong sale till there were belly-high snow drifts to bar the way. Had not old
Mr McPhee a"ived alone one midnight at Pretty Plain, driving about a dozen bulls
through an autumn snow storm? 'Shepherds and miners, going about their business,
had 'snow-shoed' (skied) much of the high country over the years; but they were busy
men who had neither time nor inclination for the steep western faces of the main
range, many of which saw no skis before those of the Mitchells and their companions.
The first ski known to have been on the Western Face was a single Kiandra 'butterpat'
in 1898.lts owner, one of the men from Wragge's Observatory who had inadvertently
dropped it over the side while skiing along the top of the range to Townsend, made
the long journey down to the tree line and back to retrieve it on foot. It was not until
1934, when Torn Mitchell and George Day skied down into the Northcote Canyon
and up a gully they named 'Little Austria' and back over Carruther's Peak, that there
were any skiers on the Western Face. In 1937 there were several exploring parties to
the same area in search of a suitable course for the Inter-Dominion ski races against
New Zealanders. Otherwise the western slopes had been left to their mysterious
silence.
As Elyne's strength and skill increased on the steep slopes in Europe and both
Americas, and as the gentler slopes of the eastern side of the main range became more
familiar and less challenging, the Mitchells' thoughts turned ever more to Torn's dream
of a systematic exploration of the spurs and gullies of the Western Face together. In
the event a twice-broken leg and an arm injury between them forced the project to be
postponed, and then the war carne and Torn was in Malaya. It was Elyne who was to
keep the appointment with the western slopes, in the winter of 1941.
With Toddy Allen, a woman skiing friend, she began to explore the western slopes of
Townsend and the gullies among Watson's Crags on the Twynarn West spur. A long
run down brought them into the gully dividing Sentinel Peak from the Twynam West
Spur. Skiing alone through a funnel-like opening at the bottom, Elyne found herself
rushed out onto a steep, sticky slope with a perilous-looking drop into the Geehi
valley far below. She looked long and hard at it before discretion at last claimed the
victory and she did a perilous kick-tum on the edge of space and began the long climb
back to where Toddy and two others who had come with them were waiting. Nevertheless, the whole perspective of the mountains had been altered. Twynarn no longer
meant a long run and a second-class test course, the scene of many races on frequently
icy ridges - or maybe even uncovered rocks and grass, but was now the way horne
from real skiing down the 'other side'. Carruther's, too, had an altered status, now not
only being the highroad to and from those magnetic western slopes, but a vantage point
from which new challenges among the spurs and gullies could be espied.
Later in the season Colin Wyatt, a friend of Torn's from Cambridge whose knowledge
of what would avalanche and what would not was a distinct asset to any Westernfacing party, spotted a long steep slope that looked like the slopes they had enjoyed
abroad, far down the Twynarn West Spur beyond any part they had been before. With
Curly Annabel, shortly to go into the RAAF, making up a party of three, they set out
from the Chalet at dawn one morning to try it out. On top of the range a wind was
blowing and the cold numbed their minds as they climbed to the top of the knob at
the beginning of the Twynarn West Spur at 7020 ft. The spur is narrow, so that they
could see off to both sides, but they left the wind behind on the tops and were in no
danger of being blown off it. Among Watson's Crags they paused to look back at the
face of the range. The sight was magnificent. Towering cliffs were interspersed with
16
gullies which looked skiable, but on which, in many places, a fall would undoubtedly
end over a precipice. Thousands of feet of snow slopes and crags rushed in their
alpine glory headlong down to Geehi. They skied out onto a narrow ridge ending in a
knife edge on which Colin did an unconcerned kick-turn. It seemed to Elyne as if
they had suddenly become figures in some lovely Swiss mountaineering picture.
Climbing back up a little way they found a broad gully, dropping swiftly, and swung
away down it, out onto a shoulder of the mountainside and a drop of 1200 ft. A few
moments later Elyne looked back up it at the others skiing down after her like black
flies on a huge, whitewashed wall. Another thousand feet of skiing lay below before
at last they pulled up at 4800 ft, just above the mountain ash, in sound of the crashing
waters of Watson's Gorge Creek. Despite the climb of 2200 ft back to the top of the
range that now had to be undertaken, it had been a day to remember. Even then the
upward-looking eyes sought new challenges, and they noted the steep gullies running
down off Mt Anderson; gullies filled with a promise which then was yet to be put to
the test.
One spur running down from Mt Anderson ended in a little clearing on top of a tiny
knoll. The resemblance, under snow, to a tonsured pate was irresistible, and Elyne
christened it 'Friar's Alp'. It would be a long day's ski down to that and back, but
slowly its attraction grew. A heavy freeze the night before they went had turned the
snow from glue to good spring snow, and the run down from Twynam to the saddle
below Anderson was glorious. A rather icy traverse took them up over the summit of
Anderson, which, with an altimeter, Elyne measured at 6300 ft. From the top of
Twynam they had already dropped 900 ft. They looked across at the entire 2200 ft of
the Twynam West Spur that they had skied, and marvelled that they had adhered on
such a steep slope to the snow. Then down they went on a snowy staircase towards
their mysterious little alp with its shining circlet of snow. Below 5300 ft the trees
began to get too thick for good skiing, and the saddle lay as low as 4700 ft before the
last 300ft of scrubby climbing onto the knoll with its little snow plain surrounded by
trees.
Elyne's first meeting with the Australian Alps on skis had indeed been from the
Western side. In June 1936 she rode with Tom over the Geehi Wall, the first time she
had been there, and up to the snowline on Hannel's Spur. From there they had skied
up to Northcote Pass at the head of Wilkinson Valley, down to the Snowy River over
the shoulder of Mt Clarke, and up through Charlottes Pass to the Chalet. Being very
early in her skiing career, it was a desperately tired Elyne who lost control at the
bottom of the last slope and floundered into an open creek, but next day they set out
on the return journey. A change in the weather threatened. As they came up out of
the shelter of Mt Clarke the wind began hurling flying snow into their faces and
repeatedly lifted Elyne off her skis. In a snow storm it would be a matter of luck
rather than judgement if they found the start of the Hannel Spur track. The consequences of failing to do so would be such that the risk could not be taken. They
returned to the Chalet. Two more attempts they made, with much the same result.
The bad weather lasted for a full two weeks.
In spite of these early reverses, her strength and her skill improved rapidly. Several
years later, by which time Tom was overseas serving in Malaya, she was able on a ski
tour from the Chalet out to Cascade Hut to compare with satisfaction the way she
was able to take the slope down from Ramshead to Dead Horse Gap with the cautious
traversing of a much earlier occasion, when it was always such a desperate struggle to
keep up. A passage from her description of this Cascades trip makes startling reading.
Standing on the spur not far above the gap, where a clear view is obtained down the
valley to the north east, she muses 'The valley of the Crackenback, below Dead Horse,
is one of the few places in our hills where a small alpine village would not look
incongruous.' She was looking at precisely the place where, years later, today's village
ofThredbo was to appear. South, in the Cascade country, the brumbies ran, and there
was great fun catching one in the snow and docking a swatch from its tail as a mark of
possession.
17
Earlier, Jagungal, at the north end of the snow country, had been her far-distant
beckoning mountain. The main range, from the Ramsheads to Tate, was by then
familiar territory. So also were their hills of home, the Dargals and Grey Mare, and
from these north-western arms of the alps the great slumbering white lion that is
Jagungal under winter snow loomed as a challenge that had to be met and a mystery
that had to be unveiled. In 19<41 she went on her fust long winter tour without Tom.
She met Toddy Allen in Cooma, from where they were to go in to Alpine Hut, on
the east side of the Brassy Mountains. This used to cater for parties of eighteen at a
time, and provided guides and pack horses to get the parties in.
At the last moment she got word from the management that neither guides nor
horses would be available, and found herself, with a much heavier pack than she would
have had if she had known it would not be carried for her, as the de facto leader of a
party in which there were two women who were complete novices. The party was slow,
a blizzard came on, and as darkness fell she realised she was no longer sure of the way.
With snow obliterating their outward tracks they made a hesitant retreat back to the
Snowy Plains hut. There someone from the Alpine Hut later found them and, in the
early hours of the following morning, showed them the way to the hut. As an
experience it had been a warning, and one which she did not forget, but it did bring
with it an increased sense of self-reliance. Several days later, after the snow storm had
passed, and after a preliminary trip over to Mawson's Hut, came the great day when,
in a fast-moving party of three, she skied to the summit of her lion-mountain and
looked across all the country where she and Tom had skied: a day to be in the
mountains, a day to be of the mountains.
And if, on the long, wonderful run down from the summit of Jagungal, she felt more
completely of the mountains, in the week that followed she made the mountains
more completely hers by putting a line with her skis through a diamond of territory
which until then had never known them, by skiing to the head of the Valentine, over
Gungartan, by White's River Hut and the Rolling Grounds, to Tate and Twynam and
the world she already knew. But if the mountains were hers, there was always some
elusive spirit entirely their own. She wondered, once, if it had something to do with
the South. Had she caught some fleeting glimpse of the same thing in New Zealand,
and in the Andes? No. It seems to belong to this ancient land alone.....
•.....Starr were coming out in the rkyand the clouds were rolling away, Quiet now, after
the storm, the mountains hod sunk into their own hushed dreaming. Theirs not the
dreomr of the lnCill, the fierce Araucanians or the Co"'luistadors that the Andes hold
in their dust, nor the 11ilions of Europe's CO"'luerlng armies, but of some strange
secret that is ne11er remembered. Perhllps somewhere back in Australia's antiquity,
the mystery of eternal life was once unfolded. •
Written in 'Australia's Alps' in 1942, that brings one reader to a stop in 1982, at a
moment when the molecular biologists have re-set the clock, and are suggesting that
the origins of man should be sought not in Africa, but here.
References and notes
1
Speak to the Elznh, Elyne Mitchell (Angus .l Robertson, 19<45), page 13.
2
Official usage decrees that Strzelecki's 'India Creek', later known as the lndi
River, be discarded and the name Murray used all the way to the source, but local
custom was otherwise. There are many variations between official and local usage
- the former often (not only in this region) seeming to perpetuate spelling and
other errors made by busy cartographers. Thus Smokey Plain has become Snakey
Plain (grid reference 115045, Kosciusko 1:100,000), and there seems to be doubt
as to whether it should be 'Pinnibar' or 'Pinnabar', 'Byett's' or 'Byatt's', etc. No
attempt will be made here to follow a consistent line. Sometimes the actual place18
Ozmp near Blue Lake
- Graeme Laidlaw
ment of a name on the map or the malcing of a new road, can shift the locale of a
particular name. Thus 'Bradney's Gap' In local usage means the crossing from
Swampy Plain Creek to Khancoban Creelc, grid reference 054964; but the new
road (which is heading elsewhere), the usage of the National Parle authorities, and
the placement of the name on the map, which is ambiguous, have gradually transferred the name to grid reference 048960 (Kosciusko 1:100,000). The map omits
to name the spur which is ascended by Everards Flat Trail, but it is known locally
as the Long Spur. Interestingly enough, the Mitchells Insist that the correct
pronunciation of Jagungal is 'Jargnl'.
3
See the first article in this series, Walk 29, 12 (1978).
4
Soil and CiviliSiltion, Elyne Mitchell (Angus & Robertson, 1946), page 67.
5
Snowy Mountain! Walla, (The Geehi Club, 197l),ISBN 0 9599651 0 6, page 45.
6
Walk 29, 38 (1978) ; Walkabout 15 (4), 29 (1949).
7
There is a photograph of the whole family, taken the year before Elyne was
married, in Chauvel of the Light Hone, A.J. Hill (Melbourne University Press,
1978), ISBN 0 522 84146 5, page 20-.
8
Where no other reference is given the source is an interview with Mrs Mitchell at
Towong Hill, 23rd June,1982. The author wishes to thank her for kind permission
to quote passages from several of her books in this article.
9
Jmage1 in Water, Elyne Mitchell (Angus & Robertson, 1945), page 69.
10
11re Man from Snowy River, Elyne Mitchell (Angus & Robertson, 1982) ISBN
0 207 14539 3,1SBN 0 207 14858 9.
11
In a foreword to the 1962 edition of AU~tralia's Alps Elyne Mitchell outlines some
of the changes which the Snowy Mountains Authority has brought to the region. A
more recent book is The Snowy Mountain~, Elyne Mitchell and Mike James (Rigby
Umited, 1980),1SBN 0 7270 1128 6.
19
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DIRECTORS : FRITZ AND PETRA SCHAUMBURG
20
BUSHWALKING AND MOUNTAINCRAFT LEADERSHIP
CERTIFICATE COURSE
Gail Pearson
The aim of the BMLC Course is to enable men and women with some experience in
the basic skills of bushwalking to become qualified by training and further experience
to lead groups in this field of activity.
Applicants for the course must first satisfy the requirements of an appraisal/training
weekend. During this weekend, currently held at Kinglake West, candidates are
observed and assessed in various practical and written tests and situations, to show
that they have the basic skills to undertake the course. Tests include orienteering
exercises, tent pitching and fire lighting, use of map and compass, fitness, party
management and navigation.
This is an interesting though hectic weekend, spent in pleasant surroundings and
attractive country. Applicants are grouped, and you tend to meet only those within
your group, although being aware of many others completing similar activities,
running, searching for checkpoints, boiling billies, setting up tents and wandering
through the bush. It is a mammoth organisational task to co-ordinate so many people
so efficiently.
Having satisfied these requirements, candidates are then invited to attend the
residential training camp, held at Howman's Gap each May. The week-long camp is
designed primarily as an instruction and training week, and candidates complete both
practical and theory exercises. Leadership, first aid, weather, food, day and night
navigation, map craft and route planning, survival and river crossing sessions are
included.
This is an extremely valuable week, providing opportunities for both formal and
informal discussion with the instructors and other candidates. You can learn a great
deal from talking to people with differing experiences to your own, and by sharing
practical experiences. Wh en crossing icy creeks, or stumbling about on the Bogong
High Plains in the dark, or planning a route off a mountain peak, it is impossible not
to be drawn into sharing and calling upon each other for assistance.
After the training camp, candidates are assigned to an advisor, whose role is to
supervise the interim training section of the course. During a period of one or two
years, candidates are expected to lead and participate in as many walks as possible.
Candidates are encouraged to walk with many different groups and in as many
different conditions as possible, to broaden their experience. A log book is
maintained during this period.
Towards the end of the interim training period, candidates must lead two weekend
walks or one four day walk, during which they are assessed. The assessor attends the
walk as a normal party member and submits a critical report on the candidate's
leadership and navigational ability.
Providing that these reports are satisfactory, candidates are invited to attend the final
assessment week at the Shelley Forestry Camp. Navigational skills are particularly
emphasised during the week, which commences with a night navigation exercise.
Other navigation exercises include an orienteering-type exercise without a compass,
and a similar exercise with a compass but through large areas of pine forest. This is
rather demanding when you consider the similarity of one pine tree to another, and
also the limited view that is offered from within the depths of a huge expanse of
pine forest.
21
To increase the challenge candidates are sent out after a hearty lunch (the last
supper!) with just day walk equipment and meagre emergency rations. The exercise
is planned so that it cannot be finished in one afternoon, and candidates must make
their way in daylight hours through the pine forest check points and out into the
eucalyptus forest area before nightfall. The night is spent in a hollow log or under a
makeshift shelter beside a roaring fire. Of course you are lucky if you do not get rain
that night, but there are no guarantees.
Next morning candidates make their way to a designated point, collecting more
checkpoints if time permits, for a hot, wholesome breakfast. This is to give you
strength to handle the mock search and rescue exercise which is co-ordinated from a
base by some of the candidates, while the others go out searching. Naturally, when
found the 'victims' are suffering from almost every conceivable injury and must
therefore be treated, bandaged and then carried out - after the bush stretchers have
been made.
As a candidate you are under constant pressure, as your skills are very thoroughly
tested. In retrospect it is a very enjoyable week - a chance to meet old faces and new,
an opportunity to assess your ability, a learning experience, and you are always
learning, especially in the bush.
I have learned a tremendous amount as a result of completing this course and would
recommend it to anyone interested in learning more about leadership and bushcraft.
When you want the best.
See us!
377 Little Bourke St, Melbourne 67 3355
Caga Centre 38 Akuna St, Canberra47 7153
22
SNOW CAMPING
Graeme Laidlaw
Our weekend campsite in the Baw Baw Ranges was only a mile from the cars. We had
left the city before dawn so there were still hours of daylight. I always have a special,
contented feeling as I search around for the best spot for the little tent, but this time
there was an extra dimension: it was July, and the ground was buried under half a
metre of snow.
This was my first real snow camp. Before this weekend, I had no more experience
than an occasional family trip to Donna Buang. My knowledge was limited to what
I had heard and read. I was about to add some experience.
Because the wind can carry away bodily-warmed air and can also batter away at the
tent, the site must be sheltered. Overhanging boughs and foliage which could release
snow must be avoided.
A ritual dance to the weather god starts proceedings. The snow has to be stamped
down hard and then levelled. This took me about an hour. Billy lids went under the
tent poles to stop them sinking. Strong, dead branches, two centimetres or more thick
and about one metre long are used as pegs. Before the trip, loops have been tied to
the tent eyelets to allow for these. Then the tent was up and finally the bright red
nylon fly. It added a cheery colour, besides holding a blanket of warmer air,
relatively speaking, between the tent and the outside world.
After my pack was inside I fitted my cross-country skis and practised my snowplough
turns. Later, word came that the ranger had decided, in view of the constant snow,
that the cars had to go much further down the mountain. We went. Nobody wanted
to return to a car the next day able to see only the aerial. Little pools of water quickly
appeared in the car from snow blown in and also from my parka. When the car was
freshly parked I started back, a biting wind driving the snow into my face, but the
uphill walk soon warmed my body.
Now back with the others, I looked and looked: where was my red fly sheet? Was my
tent down already? The others all seemed fairly steady. Then the answer was clear:
five centimetres of Christmas card snow hid my fly sheet. It looked enchanting - but
my poles had almost broken under the strain. Ten minutes of pushing and scraping
had the snow off, but what if it snowed all night?
I decided the snow would slide off if it had somewhere to go. I had read that a
plastic plate made a passable snow shovel. I untied the door tapes, went in, fumbled
deep in the pack, found the plate, crawled out and retied the tapes. It was almost
dark. I could see candles and torches slight in the other tents. Even some of the
stoves were going. I was a long way from ready. It took almost an hour to dig two
trenches down t o ground level on both sides of the fly. All the time, snow was falling
and sliding into my freshly-cleared trenches.
Back inside, snow-covered and sweating, I folded the groundsheet back over the pack.
The main thing now was to keep snow off the top of the floor where it would soon
melt. (How do they manage with sewn-in floors?)
Sitting on my pack I carefully took off my snowy parka, overtrousers, gaiters and
boots. Everything else was quite damp with sweat so it all came off. Next it was out
with my insulating mat. Now I had something to sit on - and more head room.
I was holding the torch in my mouth and fumbling for the right plastic bags. Soon
the tent seemed full of them as I took out my dry clothes. At last came my reward.
I wriggled into my sleeping bag. This meant warmth and more room and order.
23
Finally I shook and brushed my outer clothes again and stowed them in plastic bags.
I planned to snuggle into my boots during the night hoping to keep them warmish.
Some campers put them inside their sleeping bags. I've heard about frozen boots a situation to be avoided.
Changing from wet clothing to dry, climbing into the bag and stowing away wet gear
had taken me an hour. I had not stopped since getting out of the car. That seemed so
long ago and I realised I was tired, hungry and thirsty. I had some chocolate, a few
Jollies and a glucose drink. Curling up in my bag, against my boots, I felt life was good.
I lay listening to the wind and believed the pegs would hold. Occasional thumps
against the roof kept the snow falling off.
During a longer lull in the storm I realised that everyone else was quiet. I still had not
had tea. I had been putting it off because it meant partly leaving the warmth of the
bag. After assembling my stove I opened out a door a few centimetres to avoid the
build-up of poisonous fumes in the confined tent. In doing so, of course, I lost some
of my warmer air.
After soup and cocoa, my biscuits, cheese, chocolate and sweets were enjoyed as
much as any haute-cuisine. I wanted to read by the candle light but was scared of
dozing off. The thought of a burning tent closed my book. I awoke often during the
night and was relieved to hear the snow slide off at every upward thump of my fist.
Next there were voices. Others were up, out and off on a half-day trip. Four handfuls
of snow hit the tent. Ian and Peter were soon made to understand I was not going
with them. As the sounds faded, I relaxed again, secure, content and warm.
Falling
24
- Graeme Laidlaw
BOGONG IN WINTER - A WEEKEND TO REMEMBER
Philip Taylor
The Australian Alps may lack the grandeur of the Himalayas, or the European and
New Zealand Alps, but they do have their own character which sets them apart from
the rest of the mountains of the world. In particular, Mt Bogong, Victoria's highest
peak, offers to the walker a challenge that the hardiest of mountaineers would find
fascinating. And so it is that a group of five walkers collect at Mountain Creek on a
crisp Saturday morning to attempt to climb Mt Bogong in winter.
Victoria has been provided with one of the heaviest snow covers for many years. We
know that the next two days will be remembered for years to come.
Actually there should be eight of us but Peter's car has suffered mechanical troubles
on the way from Melbourne. However, we receive a message that they hope to catch
up with us later in the day. We shoulder packs full of winter gear, plus ice-axes,
crampons and ropes, and head up the mountain.
I have climbed Mt Bogong many times from all angles but the beauty of it never
recedes. The steepness of the track, the tightening of the leg muscles as they fight
against the pull of gravity, the heavy pack: fun, isn't it! (So I keep telling myself.)
The morning commences fine and clear but clouds soon roll in and engulf the
mountain. A recent snowfall has sprinkled on the ground and trees, its thin layer of
white providing a fairytale scene of snow and cloud.
A sad reflection on today's walker is the amount of damage being done to the
environment. The track up Staircase Spur is heavily eroded in places and the litter of
past walkers lies amongst the ground cover, providing a sharp contrast to the natural
surroundings and a reminder that we are not the only ones to venture this way.
The hill seems to grind on forever. Panting, puffing, groaning, the group moves up. We
spread out along the track, the speedier ones hurrying along while those of a more
deliberate pace have the occasional rest to recapture the breath. As we gain height the
snow becomes more constant. Up into the Mountain Ash we meet the first permanent
winter snow. It is old snow covered with fresh which makes a crisp crunch as the foot
sinks in. Further up the mountain the snow becomes deeper and we start to flounder
up to the mid leg. We hope it is not like this all the way to the top.
An hour and a half from Mountain Creek we arrive at the new Bivouac Hut recently
completed by the National Parks Service to replace the one mysteriously burnt down
several years ago. It is primarily designed as a refuge shelter but we all appreciate the
chance to get out of the wet drizzle which has now settled in. The fire is soon going
and clothes drying commenced. During the long break Peter and his group catch up
with us. Choofas emerge from the packs and plenty of boiling water is soon
available for hot drinks.
The weather is not improving. Much as we dislike leaving our warm shelter we are not
going to reach the top sitting here. Packs are lifted onto rested shoulders and off we
set. Fortunately someone has been through on the route the previous weekend and
made the trail, but with the fresh snow those in front are having a torrid time.
Snow walking is different to normal walking. The steps that the walker takes are
rather unnatural. High leg movements, heavy pack and the constraints placed on the
ability of the walker to adopt a natural rhythm provide demanding conditions. Snow
walking is the realm of the fitter walker prepared to meet the wide variety of weather
conditions and with the physical and mental stamina to cope with difficult conditions.
25
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26
As we move slowly up the trail it all seems rather strange and not how I remember
the track from the last time. Then I realise what the difference is: instead of walking
at ground level we are walking amongst the tops of the trees, on about five metres of
snow! A short rest and a quick breather before continuing, and then an amazing
thing happens.
The mist stops and we walk out into bright sunshine. The sun shines out of a cloudless
sky. Below our feet the valleys are full of swirling, surging cloud. We drop packs and
rummage around to find cameras, sunglasses and sun lotion. After all, we have
carried them all this way, they might as well be used. Numerous photographs are taken
of a sight not many people would witness, a wonder of nature.
Time is moving on and we are still another hour from the summit. We push on as the
sun gradually sets in the western sky. This is truly a memorable time. We seem to be
so isolated on this mountain but are all aware that not too far away people are busy
skiing at Falls Creek, and no doubt other groups are on Bogong enjoying the same
experience as ourselves.
The last part of the climb to the summit provides a chance to use the ice-axes and
crampons. A quick practical lesson on how to use the rather vicious-looking axe and
we head off to the top. The crampons provide excellent grip on the icy patches and
are well worth the extra weight to bring them.
Finally the top is reached, in time to see the other side of the mountain. Feathertop,
Nelse and Spion Kopje poke their summits out of the cloud. (The cover photo of
Walk 82 was taken on the summit on this trip.)
The sun is now close to the horizon so our thoughts quickly turn to establishing a
camp. Our original intention had been to camp on the summit if the weather
permitted, but it is becoming quite cold with the wind gradually rising. A decision is
made to establish camp about one hundred metres on the south slope down from the
summit. This provides some protection from the prevailing northwest wind.
Tents are erected and everyone settles down into their sleeping bags, truly on the top
of Victoria. The wind gradually increases during the night. The sound of flapping
tents provides a rhythmic inducement to sleep, even if some people have to get up
during the night to repeg their tents.
Camping in the snow provides an environment for walkers willing to pit their wits
against the force of nature. Cold is the greatest danger. It is imperative that all those
attempting snow camping have the best equipment they can afford. There are no short
cuts and the time to find out that the sleeping bag you bought is not warm enough is
not on the top of Bogong in the snow. Likewise it is necessary to have a tent that is
designed to stand up to the winds and capable of stopping the snow that seems to
blow in all the little gaps. A small stove is important to enable warm brews to be
made. All this takes time and especially money to accumulate but the rewards are
immense.
Next morning the sun rises to reveal a desolate sight. Seven tents pitched in the snow,
semi-covered with blowing snow, a stiff wind coming from the north and heavy cloud
sweeping across the scene.
We lie huddled in bed for a while longer, hoping that the weather may improve, but
to no avail. We decide to pack up quickly and get off the mountain as soon as
possible. Tents are collapsed, packs packed and we return to the summit to locate the
snow pole line and the way back down the Staircase Spur. The summit is soon
reached and we set off along the pole line to find the intersection with the other pole
line we require.
27
Taylor's party, tiny figures just aboJ'e the cloud on the Staircase Spur
- Ken MacMahon
A signpost comes into view encrusted with snow and ice. A few chops with the iceaxe soon reveal that this is the sign to the spur, but it seems to be pointing in the
w:ong direction. Are we imagining things in the poor conditions? A hasty conference
is held in the cloud with the wind tugging at our clothing. We retrace our steps to the
summit and set off on a compass course, arriving at the same spot. Another discussion
and we conclude that someone has reversed the sign. The unwary would have followed
it and ended up in the Big River Valley - unbelievable actions from unknown
individuals.
The snow is quite icy as we descend the ridge. Ice-axes and crampons are very handy.
We are quickly back down to the warmth and shelter of Bivouac Hut for a second
breakfast. From there it is a pleasant afternoon walk down to the cars and the end of
a weekend that none of us will ever forget.
28
... the physical and mental stamina to cope with difficult conditions
- Ken MacMahon
29
THE VALLEY OF THE DEVIL'S HOLES
Fred Halls
South from Moree in northern New South Wales, in the rich fertile lands just to the
north of the Nundewar Range, the rich black soils that have broken down from past
volcanic activity now support lush green pastures and fat beef cattle. Not far to the
south are the dark indigo outlines of the domes, cones, mesas, ramps, terraces, cliffs
and gorges of the northern Nundewars, that spectacular region of high contrast
adjoining peaceful farmlands.
The valley of the Devil's Holes is situated just inside the northern boundary of
Kaputar National Park. Access is south from Moree and Terry Hie Hie, following farm
roads upstream along the course of Terry Hie Hie Creek. Shortly after 'Allambie' (a
farm house) the track passes through the northern boundary of the national park and
eventually reaches the Devil's Holes.
There are several fine camping spots on grassy flats hidden among the sheltering
Cypress pines not far distant from Devil's Holes Creek. Other flora on the flats
includes White Box, Narrow Leaf Ironbark and Wild Hops. Soon after reaching the
creek the road peters out into a rough stony track clambering over a steep hillside,
then plunging into the confined valley of Devil's Holes Creek, part of Waa Gorge, a
spectacular complex with a shape in plan view like the letter 'h'. Some of the smooth
sided arms of the tortuous ravine are filled with plants of a rain forest nature, such
as Rusty Fig, Pittosporum, Rasp ferns, Maiden Hair Fern and various hanging vines.
A most spectacular gorge tract is centred about the so-called Devil's Holes - deep,
rounded ice-smooth rocky basins filled with dark wat er, situated in the bed of the
creek coming down from Mt Waa. The stream seems to progress in a continuous
swooping movement, as is indicated by the smooth-sided rocks and rounded basins
along the creek bed. There are at least six such large waterholes following one after
the other.
This gorge cuts back deeply into the southwest flanks of volcanic Mt Waa (966 m)
and here are some of the most impressive geological features of the entire region.
There are many fine examples of organ pipe formations, geometrically uniform and of
hexagonal shape. Some can be seen in the rugged western face of Mt Waa, and others
along either side of the gorge walls.
The main or inner gorge region is composed of at least three sections. The northeast
side gorge is a dead end ravine where vertical and often overhanging walls tumble down
to a smooth sided creek bed highly polished by the flow of water, the rocky bed
being quit e dangerous for walking. Walls on the north side consist of fretted grey lava
columns, and a vertical arch where a patch of blue sky peeps through from outside
the gorge.
The southern walls are fluted, and overhanging to a marked degree, being eroded and
painted by the weather to the brightest colour combinations that nature can provide.
Between the two walls at the upper end of the gorge, a tiny stream trickles from
above, through a large slot shaped like a keyhole. It is almost as though this is the
spot where the devil turned the key on the poor demented souls imprisoned in the
depths of the gorge.
Another arm of the gorge, running straight ahead in an easterly direction, also ends
abruptly, in an overhanging ravine near where a waterfall sometimes plunges from
above, flowing out to the north. Nearby there are other rocky niches hidden deep in
the ever-crowding scrub. Then there are fig-tree jungles and deep, smooth sided holes
along the steep creek course, and high above on distant lava terraces, forests of
parklike Snow Gum.
30
Kaputar country
- Fred Halls
On the dry plateau above, a waist high spiny Grevillia, probably Holly Grevillia,
makes the walking quite difficult, and accompanies. Micromyrtus, Calytrix and blue
Caladenia orchids, with occasional areas of slick rock and loose, rolling stones. From
the plateau summit (680 m) there are views of volcanic Waa and its gorge tract of
red painted cliffs and hexagonal columns.
Only two kilometres away southeast across the broken plateau is the impressive
double headed lava mountain, Bobbiwaa Peak (1090 m). Dominating all, four kilometres southeast, near the lava layers and terraces of mighty Grattai Mountain
(1311 m), sometimes seen distantly from mountains further south as a large blue
dome.
By reputation, this northern section of Kaputar National Park is considered rightly to
be the wildest and most spectacular of the three sections of that great volcanic park.
Although relatively small compared with the two southern sections, its reputation is
quite justified, mainly because of the extreme wildness of the terrain, the outback
atmosphere of the approaches and the slight spice of danger involved in wandering
through rough bushland amongst loose rock.
On the approach to the Grattai Mountain section from the south, in the vicinity of
Killarney Gap, the terrain is dry, rocky, rough and in many scree areas, treacherous
underfoot. The mountains support dry sclerophyll forests of White Box, Cypress Pine
and Snow Gums, while everywhere there are Wild Hops of every reddish hue. There
are also fruiting Grass Trees, colourful purple Hardenbergia and various golden
wattles.
The road between Narrabri and Bingara passes through Killarney Gap, and from the
high rocky peaks south of the gap there are sights of the superb volcanic peaks
further north, thrusting high into the blue sky. The best of these northern peaks are
superb Couradda or Castletop Mountain (1122 m) with its pinnacles and the
'Breadknife', the spectacular Ginns Mountain (1128 m), Ginns Bluff and Bobbiwaa
Peak, while peering around the overhanging shoulder of Ginns Mountain is the
massive dark blue dome of Grattai Mountain. The deep gorge flanking the rock wall
of Ginns Mountain is spiked with vertical rock pinnacles.
31
Consider a walking trip through the wilderness centred about Ginns Mountain.
Leaving the Narrabri-Bingara road where it passes through Killarney Gap, the climb
northerly upwards along the steep ridge will provide a grandstand view into the
gorge just below Ginns Mountain, dominated by the spectacular lava columns of the
Lost World. Soon after, camp will be made near Grattai Spring in the wild valley of
Curramanga Creek, at the far side of Ginns Mountain, this spot to be used as a base
for walks to Castletop Mountain (14 km return), the Devil's Hole lower down along
Curramanga Creek (8 km return), the bluff northeast of Ginns Mountain (1.5 km
return), Ginns Mountain (7 km return), Lawlers Spring (11 km return), Mt Lawler
(875 m, 15 km return) and, most important of all, to the lava flows and domed
summit of Grattai (4 km return).
Other natural features worth visiting when approached from the north are Mt Waa
and Bobbiwaa Peak.
Since the Grattai section of the Nundewar Range is situated about 1150 km from
Melbourne, it is also worth visiting other sections of the Kaputar Park, particularly
features such as Yulludunidah Rock Top and Crater from Greens Camp, Mts Coryah
and Mitchell from Coryah Gap, Corrunbral Borowah (the Governor), West Kaputar
Rocky Top, Kaputar, Horse Arm Creek Gorge, Ningadhun, Euglah Rock and Sawn
Rock, situated on Rocky Creek southwest of Killarney Gap.
If your proposed approaches to the northern Nundewars are by way of back roads
from Narrabri or Terry Hie Hie, or by farm roads south along the valley of Terry Hie
Hie Creek, take care in the black soil farm country: even after only moderate rain, you
can easily become bogged. Please leave all gates as they were found.
Because of magnetic interference in the northern Nundewars, compass error may
sometimes be as great as thirty degrees.
Not Falling
32
- Graeme Laidlaw
ROCK CLIMBING
Glenn Sanders
You learn many things on a rock climbing course: how to use the equipment, to
belay and abseil, and to move safely over the rock. You quickly learn whether you
like climbing or not, and how to push yourself, extending the limits of the possible:
to know yourself, and to climb better, are done in parallel, neither comes first.
You also learn how to interpret the words of the instructors. It soon becomes
obvious that when Keith says 'That hold is not quite what you are after, is it?'
as you hook half a finger over a small bulge, he really means that it is as good as you
are going to find so you had better make the most of it. Or when Heather says
'I think you should lead this one' she really means that you have been lazy all day
and it is about time you pushed yourself a little. And when you struggle onto a
ledge, using both knees and your chin, Kieran does not actually say anything, he just
looks. He also displays a remarkable inability to remember the grade of a climb until
after you have finished it.
Each year around but not at Easter, the Victorian Climbing Club conducts an
introductory climbing course, with one lecture night and three weekends of climbing.
The cost is sixty dollars, which also includes membership of the VCC and a copy of
Basic Rockcraft by Royal Robbins. Additional expenses are for your own food and
transport, and you must have a webbing belt, leather gardening gloves and a screwgate Karabiner, these three items costing about fifteen dollars. Other equipment can
be purchased after you decide you like climbing. You do not need a full frontal
lobotomy : rock climbing, as distinct from mountaineering, is in my estimation no
more dangerous than downhill skiing. A jaffle iron is highly desirable.
All three weekends on the course I attended were held at Mt Arapiles in western
Victoria. This superb cliff provides enjoyable climbing of a wide variety for all grades
of climbers. There is a camping area close by, with water, toilets and fireplaces.
The aim of the course is to see that each person completing it is of a sufficient
standard to continue climbing safely at their own level of competence. It is not to
teach students how to be 'gun' climbers in six days. All the climbing is free, not aid,
that is, you climb entirely without assistance from the rope and related equipment,
which is there only in case you fall. Pitons are not used, all protection being
artificial chockstones which do not damage the rock. There were never more than
two students per instructor.
There are hundreds of different climbs at Arapiles, each having been named and
graded by the first to do the climb. You soon learn that grades are only a guide and
your success will depend on how you feel on the day, and the type of climb, to
mention but two factors. Mickey Finn and Muldoon, overhanging but with good
holds, gave me little trouble, apart from the usual blood, sweat and curses; Panzer
involves mainly friction and balance on its lower half, and I slid off five times trying
to get off the ground. I have come off Camelot twice while seconding, yet it is graded
much lower than Muldoon. I really must go back and lead it, to make myself take it
seriously.
Once the basic techniques are mastered, students are encouraged to lead, which is
more difficult than coming up second. If you slip when seconding you will fall only
as far as the stretch in the rope, but when leading you will fall twice as far as the
distance between you and the last chock you put in. You must also be careful routefinding, as it is all too easy to get off course and end up on a climb a little harder than
expected.
33
That is why you learn to abseil, which, contrary to those films you may have seen, is
done slowly and carefully, if only because bounding down fast ruins the rope, which
is expensive. Abseiling fast is also very dangerous.
I thoroughly enjoyed the course. The instructors were very patient, tolerant and
friendly. Some of them even fell off too. The course certainly achieved its aims,
converting a group of novices into climbers who can without supervision climb
safely, whether they continue on to higher grades or not.
The course has several benefits for the bushwalker. You learn to move with
confidence over steep ground. You learn to use a rope and to belay another climber
(have you wondered if those parties carrying ropes up Mt Anne or Federation Peak
know how to use them properly? You do not just tie one end around your waist and
amble off up the hill). Abseiling too can be useful in emergencies, and is necessary
for related activities such as canyoning and caving. The course does not answer that
often-asked question 'What am I doing here?' but nevertheless is highly recommended
for all bushwalkers interested in more than plodding along marked tracks.
The Victorian Climbing Club (GPO Box 1725P Melbourne, 3001) meets on the last
Thursday of each month except December, at 188 Gatehouse St, Parkville, Vic.
at 8 pm.
Mark Lemaire on Arachnus (8), Mt Arapiles
34
- Courtesy Mark Lemaire
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35
Palm Valley, near Alice Springs
- Anne Walley
36
LETTER FROM CENTRAL AUSTRALIA
Anne Walley
6.00 a.m. Summit of Mt. Zeil. Needles of Spinifex danced softly in the gentle morning
breeze, silhouettes before the orange glow of dawn. Wisps of ice laced the groundsheet. I stirred from my flat slab of rock to gaze at the soft pink light tinging the top
of Mt. Liebig. This, slightly higher than Mt. Zeil, is the highest mountain in the
Northern Territory.
Bodies emerged from hollows between clumps of Spinifex and clustered around the
small summit fire, while we probably broke the record for the highest altitude
barbecued breakfast in the territory. We picked the previous day's Spinifex out of
socks and set off down the mountain. Our two litre bottles of water were emptied
when we came across a Cycad-lined creek filled with deep rock pools. The mid-day
sun was already hot enough for continual refreshing dips in between sliding down
slabs and clambering over boulders to the foot of the mountain.
'You can't bushwalk in Central Australia.'
'Why not?'
'It's too hot.'
'There's no water.'
'Too many flies.'
'Anyway, it's flat around Alice Springs, isn't it?'
Thus forewarned, I left the Victorian Alps behind and headed off to a job in Alice
Springs.
Hot and arid it certainly is. We have been particularly fortunate this year because,
after good summer rains, waterholes have remained full into the winter months. The
best walking weather is from April to about October, but it is possible to go bush
even in the height of summer, providing you stay near water, wear a colossal hat and
do not attempt too much. Lilo-ing down gorges is a feasible summer activity.
Lack of water is a potential problem at any time of year and overnight backpacking
trips need to be planned with this in mind. In waterless areas one is recommended to
carrY four litres of water per person per day. As tents are rarely needed, the extra
space in the pack is handy for carrying water. Solar still experiments using Spinifex
grass may not be very effective, but even on mountain tops shrubs such as Acacia a:nd
small trees are to be found if required.
Flies are not much of a problem during winter months and are, in any case, only a
nuisance in warmer months in pastoral areas. Provided you wear a finely-meshed fly
net, keep the wood smoke billowing, use mugs with tightly fitting lids to keep the
thirsty insects out between sips and do not mind a bit of extra meat in your sandwich, there really are no worries.
Thanks to the fascinating and well-exposed geology of the region, the terrain is rough
and anything but flat. The hills near Alice are composed of particularly well-jointed
quartzites which are a common cause of the magnificent red-walled gorges which
slice through the ranges. The most endearing vegetation to be found hugging the
angular blocks of rock is Spinifex, usually a painfully sharp species which grows in
loving clumps so large that you often have to push through them. As Spinifex can
quite effectively pierce thin shoe material, sandshoes are out and a good pair of boots
are in. The most indispensable item is a pair of knee-length snow gaiters - canvas is
more breathable. The only disadvantage of these, I have found, is when, in hot
weather, you step on an active anthill. In such cases the quick-release variety are to
be recommended.
37
Access to walking areas is little problem in the National Parks, of which there are a
number near Alice Springs. Outside these, one may be on station property, where it is
advisable to consult the owner with regard to access. In addition, there are a number
of Aboriginal reserves which one should not enter without the permission of the
Central Lands CounciL Minutes away from the main tourist spots, one is in wild,
remote country into which few people venture.
The variety of scenery in the Centre is illustrated in the sketches.
An informal bushwalking club has now been started in Alice Springs and this is an
exploratory venture at this stage.
The following maps are available from the Division of National Mapping:
1:250,000 Topographic maps available for general planning.
1:100,000 Alice Springs topographic sheet only. No others are to be produced.
1:100,000 Orthophotomaps for other areas of Central Australia are being prepared
and in many cases already exist. Some of these can be purchased with contour overlays showing contours at twenty metre intervals.
Air photos at various scales. The orthophotomaps have been prepared from these, with
scale distortions removed.
Mt Leibig from Mt Zeil
- Anne Walley
38
WHAT'S IN A NAME?
Joan MacMahon
Have you ever wondered as you wandered through the bush what name to attach to
the tree or shrub you were passing? Is it an Acacia, a Gum, a Hakea, a Grevillia.... ?
In the preface to his book 'Native Trees and Shrubs of South-eastern Australia'
Leon Costermans has some pertinent words to say on the subject :
Now, in the latter part of the twentieth century, we are seeing a new concern for the
preservation of the remaining natural features of our country. However, it has been
my experience that only a small percentage of the adult population has acquired any
real knowledge and understanding of the country's life, and of its vegetation in
particular. Indeed, many people seem virtually blind to the endless variation in their
natural surroundings, and the Australian bush is often seen as little more than 'gum
trees'!
Have you ever wondered how plants are named, what criteria are used? Are they
named after a place, a person or a characteristic feature? If a person, is it perhaps the
first to collect an example, or the first to describe it in a scientific fashion, or even
more remotely, the person who financed the original expedition during which the
plant was discovered? Perhaps the name is to honour someone outside the field of
botany? If a characteristic feature, which is the most important? Is it height or shape
or the colour of the whole plant, flower structure, flower colour or leaf shape?
Why is it that two plants which may superficially seem so different may yet be closely
related? An example of this puzzle is provided by Hakea launna and Hakea nodosa.
The first is a tree of Western Australian origin with large flat leaves and globular red
and white flowers, while the second is a shrub from Victoria and South Australia
which has pine-like foliage with tiny yellow flowers.
In order to answer these questions we need to have a knowledge of modern
botanical nomenclature. The system in use today was devised by Linnaeus, a Swedish
scholar known as the father of modern botany, in 1753 and is binomial, or consisting
of two words. Many of these are derived from Latin or Greek, as is much of the
English language, so it is not always as bewildering as may initially be thought. The
system is universally recognised and any botanist, no matter what language he or she
works in, will be able to determine which plant is being referred to.
The binomial system consists of the generic name followed by the specific name and
can be likened to the method we use for naming ourselves. The generic name or genus
is the equivalent of our surname or family name while the species is equivalent to our
given or Christian name, the name which makes us unique. The first name is
capitalised, the second is not. Both are usually written in italics, e.g. Banksia ericifolia.
The following list includes some of the more common plant genera and shows their
accepted meanings. Most were taken from a series of booklets published by the
National Botanic Gardens entitled 'Growing Native Plants'. Common names, if any,
are given in brackets at the end of each meaning.
Acacia
Opinions vary. It may be derived from a Greek word meaning to sharpen, referring to
the prickliness of the first specimen discovered or it may refer to a member of the
genus which occurs in Egypt, the Akakia or Egyptian thorn. (Wattle)
Anigozanthos
From two Greek words, anoigo, to expand, and anthos, flower, referring to the shape
of the flower stems. (Kangaroo Paw)
39
Above: Callistemon
- Glenn Sanders
- C. Noone, TWS
Opposite: Second Split, Gordon River
40
Baekea
Dr Abraham Baek, a Swedish naturalist and physician, and friend of Linnaeus.
(Heath-myrtle)
Banksia
Sir Joseph Banks, the most famous patron of Australian botany. He sailed around the
World with Captain Cook and collected the largest private herbarium in Europe,
containing about 30,000 species.
Blandfordia
George, Marquis of Blandford. (Christmas Bells)
Boronia
Francesco Borone, an Italian plant collector.
Calytrix
From two Greek words meaning calyx and hair, referring to the long, fine calyx
bristles. (Fringe-myrtle)
Callistemon
From two Greek words meaning beautiful, and stamen, referring to the fact that in
the Callistemon flower the stamens are much more conspicuous than the petals.
(Bottle-brush)
Correa
Jose Correa de Serra, a Portuguese botanist.
Dampiera
William Dampier visited the northwest coast of Western Australia in 1688 and 1699
and took back seventeen plants which were the first Australian plants to be taken to
Europe.
Darwinia
Erasmus Darwin, a botanist, poet and physician who was Charles Darwin's grandfather. (Scent-myrtle)
Epacris
From two Greek words, epi meaning upon, and akris meaning a hilltop, referring to
the location of some species. (Heath)
Eucalyptus
From two Greek words, eu meaning well, and calyptos meaning covered, referring to
the cap which covers the bud. (Gum, Box, Peppermint or Ironbark)
Grevillia
C.F. Greville, a botanical patron.
Centre photo: Irenabyss, Franklin River
- D. Noble, TWS
Left: Federation Peak
- J. Moore, TWS
45
Ste 1/aria pu ngens
46
- Les Kriesfeld
Goodenia
Dr. Goodenough, a bishop of Carlyle and first treasurer of the Linnean Society.
Hibbertia
G. Hibbert, a London merchant who developed a botanical garden at Clapham.
(Guinea-flower)
Hakea
Baron von Hake, a German botanical patron.
Helichrysum
From two Greek words meaning sun, and golden, referring to the flower colour and
shape. (Everlasting)
Indigo ph era
From two Latin words meaning indigo-bearing, referring to the fact that indigo is
found in the leaves of some species.
/sopogon
From two Greek words meaning equal, and beard, referring to the hairy fruits of some
species. (Cone-bush)
Isoto rna
From two Greek words meaning equal, and slice or section, referring to the parts of
the corolla.
Jacksonia
George Jackson, a Scottish botanist. (Broom-pea)
Kennedia
John Kennedy, a nurseryman at Hammersmith, London. (Coral-pea)
Kunzea
Gustav Kunze, a professor of botany at Leipzig.
Leptospermum
From two Greek words meaning thin seed. (Tea-tree)
Lechenaultia
Jean-Baptiste Leschenault de Ia Tour, a naturalist who collected in Western
Australia between 1801 and 1803.
Melaleuca
From two Greek words, me/as meaning black, and leu cos meaning white, referring to
the colour contrast seen on trunk and branches of some species. (Paperbark or Honey
myrtle)
Micromyrtus
From two Greek words meaning small myrtle, referring to the size of the plant.
(Heath myrtle)
Olearia
From a Latin word meaning olive-like, referring to the leaves of one of the earliest
species described. (Daisy bush)
Pelargonium
From the Greek word pelargos, meaning stork. This refers to the appearance of the
fruit. (Stork's-bill)
47
Ranunculus
From a Latin word meaning small frog, referring to the semi-aquatic habitat of some
species. (Buttercup)
Sollya
Richard Solly, an English botanist.
Stackhousia
John Stackhouse, a Cornish botanist.
Thryptomene
From a Greek word meaning broken or made small, presumably referring to the size
of the flowers. (Heath myrtle)
Telopea
From a Greek word meaning from afar, referring to the brightness of the flowers.
(Waratah)
Utricularia
From the Latin word utriculus, meaning a small leather bottle, referring to the airfilled bladders found in some species. (Bladderwort)
Wahlenbergia
Georg Wahlenberg, a professor of botany at Uppsala, who specialised in European
plant distribution. (Bluebell)
Westringia
Johah Westring, a lichen expert who was physician to the King of Sweden.
Xanthorrhoea
From two Greek words, Xanthos meaning yellow, and rheo to flow, referring to the
gum which exudes from the stem. (Grass tree)
The use of common names should be avoided, even though they are often easily
remembered and attractive, e.g. Bluebell, Hop Bush, Velvet Bush, Guinea Flower,
Rice Flower, Water Gum, Bottlebrush, Honey Myrtle and Flame, Beard and Broom
Heath. Three main problems arise when common names are used. The same common
name may be applied to two or more different plants: Correa reflexa in Victoria and
Epacus longiflora in New South Wales are both known as Native Fuchsia. Or, one
plant may have several common names: Eucalyptus leucorylon is known both as
Yellow Gum and White Ironbark. Finally, quite a large number of plants do not have
a common name.
If you want to learn more about native plants there are several avenues you can
explore:
(1)
Reading books. There are many excellent books available at the moment in
bookshops or libraries. The following are especially helpful for beginners:
- Native trees and shrubs of South-Eastern Australia, by Leon Costermans.
- The Australian gardener's diary, edited by Margaret Barrett (a month-by-month
guide to all aspects of gardening, with a strong emphasis on native plants).
- Flowers and plants of Victoria and Tasmania, by Cochrane, Fuhrer, Rotherham,
Simmons and Willis.
- Field guide to the wildflowers of South East Australia, by Jean Galbraith (the
most comprehensive but also most difficult to use).
-Australian native plants, by Wrigley and Fagg.
-An introduction to the Grampians flora, by Roger Elliot.
- Grow native, creating an Australian Bush garden, by Bill Molyneux.
48
(2)
Doing an adult education course. Various institutions run night courses in
which they teach basic information relating to native plant propagation and
landscaping.
(3)
Joining a club. The Society for Growing Australian Plants (SGAP) is an
excellent organisation open to any interested person. They have talks, demonstrations,
excursions, book and plant sales. In Melbourne at present as well as the main
(Victorian region) group which meets in the city once a month, there are eight
district groups scattered through the suburbs. If you are interested, come to the
Victorian Horticultural Society Hall in Victoria St between Russell and Exhibition
Streets, on the second Wednesday of every month (except January) at eight pm.
( 4)
Visit a native garden. A lot can be learnt in a short time by visiting a garden
with well-labelled plants. Examples include:
- Maranoa Gardens (Melway 46 F7, between Whitehorse Rd and Yarrbat Ave in
Balwyn).
- Kawarra (Melway 120 B9, off Mt Dandenong Tourist Rd near the Kalorama Oval).
-Burnley Gardens (Melway 45 A12, a small section behind the Burnley Horticultural
College).
- National Botanic Gardens at Canberra, and their newly established annexe at
Nowra, N.S.W.
(5)
Start your own native garden. A great way to learn! Even people living in the
confines of a suburban flat can participate since as more and more knowledge is
gained about native plants, it has been found that quite a few will grow successfully
in pots and hanging baskets.
By becoming more familiar with Australia's flora, you will find that bushwalking or
even driving through the countryside becomes much more meaningful. Do this and
you will find yourself developing an affinity with our land - a sense of belonging.
Xanthorrhoea
49
- Glenn Sanders
BUSHWALKING
EQUIPMENT
AT LOWER THAN USUAL PRICES
•
PACKS- KARRIMOR , BERGHAUS, JANSPORT, HALLMARK, FLINDERS
RANGES.
• SLEEPING BAGS- TORRE MOUNTA I NCRAFT, PADDYMADE, AURORA.
•
TENTS- U.S.A. EUREKA, JANSPORT.
• BOOTS- ROSSI, BLUNDSTONE, DIADORA, PETERSON EUREKA.
•
JACKETS AND TROUSERS- HALLMARK Z-KOTE JAPARA, EIDEX
SUREDRI OILED JAPARA, PADDYMADE
NYLON AND GORETEX, SUPERIOR OILED
JAPARA.
SAM BEAR
SPECIALIST CAMPING STORE
225 RUSSELL ST. MELB. 3000. PH.663·2191
BETWIIN LITTLE BOURKE AND LONSDALE STREm.
WE'VE GOT VICTORIA
COVERED ... with maps!
The Department of Crown Lands and
Survey's
specialises in Vicmaps, including topographic
and photomaps at a variety of scales.
Map Sales Centre
They may be inspected at the Centre on
the Ground Floor, 35 Spring Street,
Melbourne, between 9 a.m. and 4:45p.m.,
~,~o~<IA-c-~-t,.,"'
Monday to Friday
DIVISION OF SURVEY AND MAPPING
50
-j
SO YOU RECKON YOU KNOW ENOUGH FIRST AID?
Ross Hoskin
The bush is a great place- a place of fun and relaxation; it is full of nature's wonders;
it offers challenges to our adventurous spirit and a test of our physical endurance.
We meticulously plan our trips by making sure of our physical condition, food and
equipment, and navigation requirements. Yet, so often we overlook or choose to
ignore one of the most important aspects of our safety precautions - First Aid skills.
The bush is probably safer than any urban environment, but when an accident or
illness does arise and if we do not have ready access to full medical facilities, then
there is a real risk of aggravating injuries or illnesses and possibly causing loss of life,
not to mention the inconvenience and hardships imposed on our fellow walkers,
loved ones, employers, and the community as a whole.
So often there is little or no warning of danger, and then you are suddenly put into a
situation of having to rely upon your own resources to render emergency care to the
injured or sick. Does your mind go crazy in panic as you grasp for glimmers of First
Aid principles you learned ages ago, and at the same time desperately hoping that
someone else will step in and take over the proceedings? Remember, time is critical.
For instance, when breathing ceases and the heart stops, clinical death occurs. Without
effective cardiopulmonary resuscitation within three minutes, brain damage occurs;
after five minutes, biological death. It is essential not only to know the theory of
emergency procedure, but also to have practical training.
First Aid can:
• preserve life,
• protect the unconscious,
• prevent the injury or illness from becoming worse, and
• promote recovery.
The First Aider must be able to:
• make a diagnosis,
• decide on the treatment required and commence treatment promptly,
• arrange further care of the casualty. 1
It should also be remembered that First Aid ceases when qualified medical help
arrives.
There are many books and articles on First Aid principles, but until you put your
knowledge to the test, you do not know how you will perform in an emergency. One
of the best ways of learning and practising the elementary skills is to complete one of
the excellent First Aid courses offered by such organizations as the Red Cross Society
and the St. John Ambulance Association.
I recently completed the St. John's basic training course and offer the following
comments. The course was conducted on one evening a week for seven weeks. Each
session lasted approximately three and a half hours. The cost of the course (1982)
was $40, which included the First Aid manual, bandages, and the use of First Aid
apparatus. At the end of the course, we were required to pass the theory and
practical tests to prove our competence to qualify for the certificate which is valid
for three years.
The instructors are from all walks of life and give their services on a voluntary basis.
They have wide field experience and expect a reasonably high standard of competency
from their pupils.
51
The following accidents and illnesses may be encountered on bush walks and are
covered in the course. Just consider how you would cope with them without adequate
training: asphyxia; head injuries; heart attacks; strokes; haemorrhage; infection;
fractures and dislocations; bites and stings; burns; exposure (climatic hypothermia);
frostbite; heat exhaustion; poisoning; fits and convulsions; abdominal, pelvic, eye,
ear, nose and throat conditions.
Much emphasis is placed on routine emergency procedure for both conscious and
unconscious patients. Believe me, after the golden rules have been indelibly
imprinted on one's memory and after dogged perserverence in practical sessions, one
should be able to cope reasonably effectively in real life situations. In the diagnosis
and treatment of respiratory and cardiac arrest, St. John's uses life-like dummies to
practice on, where you can actually see the lungs inflating and deflating; the heart
being compressed; and can view the simulated circulatory flow.
Detailed instruction is given in the application of dressings, bandages, slings, and
splints, which are often essential in protecting wounds and supporting injured parts.
Other aspects covered in the course include the structure and function of the body,
handling the casualty, emergency rescue, and the legal aspects of rendering First Aid.
It should be realised that some of the First Aid treatment has to be adapted for bush
conditions, but the course does cater for specific needs when requested. Incidentally,
much material on improvisation is contained in various bushwalking publications and
can be learned by attending bushwalking instruction courses.
The St. John's course also develops a sense of safety awareness and certainly
emphasizes that most accidents are preventable.
If you have already' had some First Aid training, then the course is an excellent
refresher and also updates your knowledge of recent developments such as the
treatment of unconscious patients, snake bites and burns.
In closing, l hope l have stimulated your interest in this most important aspect of
safety in the bush. Take a step in the right direction and become a qualified First
Aider, and consequently a more competent bushwalker.
REFERENCE:
(l) First aid: the authorised manual of the St. John Ambulance Association in
Australia. 2nd ed., 1980, p.l.
INTERESTED IN BACK ISSUES OF WALK?
Backsets for the years 1974- 1982 can be obtained for $7.50 p & p by writing to
Melbourne Bushwalkers, P.O. Box 1751Q, Melbourne, Victoria 3001.
52
COLO .......... SOLO
Graham Wills-Johnson
THURSDAY 3 JANUARY:
I am camped at the confluence of Rocky Creek and the Wolgan River, about 10 km
below Newnes. It's nine years since I did a bushwalk on my own, I suddenly realise before I joined the Melbourne Bushwalkers. Had forgotten all about those things that
go bump in the night. Now they come crowding back again. Just before I started
writing this up I heard bull-type noises up on the hill. If there are cows around (there
were some further back) they will probably come down to have a look at me, which
is harmless enough..... unless there is a bad-tempered bull with them. Hastily set a fire
and can have it going in seconds if need be, but it's the first time in nine years I'd even
have taken any notice. Less fantastical have been encounters with two red-bellied
black snakes. The second one moved off pretty smartly, but the first would not leave
the 4WD track (at the end of which I am now camped -bush after this) and eventually
I had to detour round him. So I am going to have to be very careful. Left motel at
Wagga this morning at 8.15 am. Petrol at Cootamundra, lunch just after twelve at
Bathurst and filled the tank at Wallerawang. The sudden sight of the clifflines from
the top of the gap into the west Wolgan is still as exciting as ever, and there have been
fewer changes than I feared might have taken place. The old pub is still at Newnes.
I didn't stop there, but I guess it still has its licence. Notices on the trees now welcome
campers provided they don't make a mess, but there were very few people camped
there. Parked the car near the ford, changed, and went for a sentimental visit over to
our old pepper tree. It is now more gnarled than ever, and part of our old campsite
has a 4WD track through it. Splashed across the ford with my pack and left Newnes
at 2.40 pm. Passed two local campers who asked me where I was going. They said a
party of four set off to walk right through a couple of days ago. Later passed another
couple (daywalkers only), but since then there has been no one. Got down here about
six - I'd had it half in mind to camp here right from the outset. It's not strictly
terra incognita after this - we went four or five km further downstream at Easter
1972 - but the confluence is not quite as I remember it. There seem to have been
massive floods at some time and I think it is possible that Rocky Creek has altered its
course since then. No further sounds from Taurus, and as it's now 8.20 pm and
starting to get dark I must put up the tent and go to bed.
FRIDAY 4 JANUARY:
A perfectly good night's sleep, in the course of which nothing at all went bump. I was
just about to get up at seven am when it began to rain. So I went right back to sleep
again to wait for it to stop. That is something you can't do when you're with a party:
some idiot always insists on sticking to the schedule and everyone gets wet. Rain
stopped at 8.45 am and I got up at nine. By the time I'd breakfasted, shaved (for
comfort - I hate having a greasy, prickly face), packed up, waded across the Wolgan
River and got my boots on, ready to leave with dry feet, it was 10.20 am. Climbed up
onto a terrace with open forest on it, but after walking about two hundred metres
along it I looked down to see a very distinct 4WD track below me. That hadn' t been
there eight years ago. Dropped down to it and followed it, wondering how far it now
went, far from pleased to see it. A steamy, overcast morning and I got quite damp as
I walked along the track, even though there was no further rain. Stopped several
times to photograph the cliffs, as impressive here as further up the valley: three
hundred metres high and absolutely perpendicular, hanging overhead on either side.
Had a ten minute rest at a place where the track commands a view from a high bank
of a very fine stretch of river and of the cliffs on the other side. I may try to arrange
things so as to camp there on the way back. A bit hard to remember exactly where we
turned back in 1972, but I think it was at a sharp spur running down to the river just
downstream from there. Anyway, the four-wheel drives have brutally punched and
ground their way up over this in almost vertical climbs that are already washing out
quite severely and will, in unstable country like this, lead to landslips in a few years.
53
Write for information to Eureka Tent
Ian Aitchison and Co Pty Ltd 42 Douglas Street Milton Queensland 4064 Phone (07) 360965
Increasingly scandalised, I followed the track down the further side to where it crosses
the river. On the south bank they have made an encampment. I have no doubt that
when it came to doing the right thing as far as 'Don't Rubbish Australia' is concerned,
they felt very pleased with themselves. Three 44-gallon drums have been placed there,
and apart from a few bits that had been dragged out of these by the wildlife in its
search for food there was no litter lying around the site. I cannot imagine who they
think is going to come and take the drums away, however. These are already almost
full. Future conscientious visitors will no doubt pile their rubbish neatly around the
drums when they do overflow and after that it will be a case of just chuck it anywhere
as the site deteriorates further. Yet it is clear that these early conquerors of the
wilderness are quite proud of the care with which they imagine they have tidied up
after themselves. Why can't they take it home? It is not even as if they have the
weight of it on their backs as we do. Turned my back on a scene that will soon be
much worse than it is now, sat down on the bank of the river, and began to unpack
for lunch. Just as I was about to take the flrst bite I heard the unmistakeable sound
of trailbikes. With dreadful inevitability two trailbikes in due course appeared on the
other side, slithered down the steep slope bringing half the hillside with them, charged
through the river and drew up steaming and smoking and smelling beside me. I didn't
bother to hide my disgust, so the conversation was rather slow to get started. They
asked me when I had left Newnes. They were astonished when I told them. They said
I must have been walking very fast. I told them that, on the contrary, I'd been very
much slower than if I'd been with a party. I had in fact been very slack. To them we
were in the remotest wilderness where every mile seemed like flve. I was discovering
that I was still squarely in 'Civilisation' -roads, rubbish, racket, fumes and all. I told
them that when I was here eight years ago there had been no track and the country
was unspoiled. However, being antagonistic would probably achieve nothing except
to convince two more bikies that bushwalkers were impossible to get along with, so
54
I turned to another tack. They said they thought the road went right through now,
and I expressed dismay and said how terrible that would be - I was trying to get off
the road. They looked blank - as though such a possibility had never occurred to
them. Then, with sudden inspiration, they said they would go and find out where the
end of the road was, and come back and tell me. They roared off in a cloud of dust
and stench. Finished my lunch and continued on along the track. After the encampment it is very much fainter - clearly still frontier territory as far as 4WDs are
concerned, into which only the most intrepid drivers venture and from which they
doubtless return with almost unbelievable stories about how brave they have been. A
little while later I heard the racket of the trailbikes returning. They skidded to a
triumphant stop beside me, and told me that the road finished 'a good three miles' (it
turned out to be only a little more than one) further on. It was clear that they had
reached their ultima thule, beyond which it wasn't really possible to go. I said good! I would be off the road at last. They grinned uncomprehendingly ..... then waved
goodbye and shot off back to the pub and their campsite at Newnes. Maybe someday
the penny will drop that the place which to them was the end of the line was the
same place where my journey only really began- but I doubt it. Track dies out on a
grassy flat at Annie Rowan Creek, 20 km below Newnes. Even the most determined
4WD pioneers will never get more than about another two km below that - a really
rough section starts then, where the Wolgan Gorge gets very much narrower and
steeper. Had to take it very carefully: nobody would ever know if I broke a leg, and it
began to rain again during the afternoon, making the rocks rather slippery. Trying
sometimes higher, sometimes lower, I came to a little sandy beach where someone else
- maybe the party that is two days ahead of me? - had had a campfire. Decided to
stop for a cup of coffee and a think, and inevitably the old argument that it didn't
really matter where I ended up today suggested itself, particularly as the sun began to
some through for the first time all day. By the time I finished the cup of coffee it had
become necessary to say 'camped 3.40 pm'. A pretty woeful day's effort, really.
Hung things up to dry off and then started scribbling this nonsense. Wildlife: saw
three quite large grey roos yesterday, very dark in colour. Snakes have already had
their mention. A black-headed ibis on the river this morning - got a very good look
at it (a party of one is very much quieter!). Quite a few eastern Rosellas - a water
dragon - and a collection of skinks. Must start to think about something to eat it's 6.40 pm.
SATURDAY 5 JANUARY:
Up 7.45 am - slack! - and did not get away unti19.20 am. I was gradually forced
higher and higher up the slope by rocks and scrub and tangled vines, and eventually
found myself at the base of the cliffline. Hot work, and very slow progress. At last
I decided maybe it would be easier and faster going down by the river again, even
though the place where I left it had not been promising. Quite a long way down to
get to it and by the time I reached it I had been going for one and a half hours and
covered no more than fifteen hundred metres net distance downstream from my
campsite. Soon discovered what I had until then been too busy to notice - that it
was a very pleasant morning indeed, with not a cloud in the sky, and, more important,
cool. The sun got rather fierce in the middle of the day, but it has clouded over in the
late afternoon, and in spite of there being a bit of thunder around and the flies being
an absolute nuisance, there is now quite a pleasant cool breeze blowing. This will
probably turn out to have been the best day's weather for the whole trip - it will very
likely be pretty hot again by the time I get out of here. Anyway, after my sweaty
descent from the cliffline I cooled off a bit in the river, took some photographs and
then started down the river banks or at times wading in the river itself. Surprised at
how easy the going was - the place where I camped last night and the terrain which
forced me towards the cliff apparently are not typical. Stopped for lunch at the large
creek coming in from the south, 2.5 km before the Wolgan/Capertee confluence. The
creek itself was dry, but I had a very pleasant swim in the Wolgan in a neck-deep
sandy-bottomed pool before I began hacking into the cheese and salami. Lay on the
sand in the sun for a while after that, and did not get on the go again until 1.45 pm
55
Wolgan River about 3 km down from Newnes
56
- Graham Wills-Johnson
Finished the last stage to the Capertee, where I have camped, at 3.15 pm. As I
arrived, seven wild ducks flew off. They have just returned, somewhat more than
three hours later, to the point where I saw them about 100 metres up the Wolgan, so
I think they must live there. Also heard quite a chorus of bellbirds during the afternoon, and saw two black cockatoos. I was rather surprised at the Capertee, which the
map shows as much the larger river and which (I thought) drained a much bigger
watershed. In fact there would be only about a quarter as much water coming down
it, and it is certainly not the Wolgan which deserves to lose its name here. (Of course
when they join Wollemi Creek a few miles further down, the whole lot becomes the
Colo.) Anyway, here I will make a base for a daywalk up the Capertee tomorrow and
down it on Monday, and then hope in a very long day on Tuesday to get back to the
place I said would make a good place to camp about an hour below Rocky Creek.
That would leave four hours back to the car on Wednesday. Had tea rather earlier
tonight- then wrote this up. Now for a cup of coffee- it's 7.15 pm.
SUNDAY 6 JANUARY:
Yes - well something really did go bump in the night. Had not yet gone to sleep
when I heard something scratching on the groundsheet next to my head. Shot bolt
upright and got the torch turned on just in time to see a five or six inch centipede that's a good 12 em on the Richter scale - crawl onto my pillow. It was huge.
Fumbled around for the only offensive weapon I carry on bushwalks - a blunt table
knife which has even been known to have difficulty with salami if the skin is tough and began trying to figure out which end of the centipede to hack off and how to do
it without making holes i·n the groundsheet. The centipede, sensing that it had made
something of a mistake, meanwhile darted hither and yon and finally slipped out under
the side of the tent. I dived out through the front to give pursuit, but by the time I
got round the back and got some torchlight on the scene it had vanished. It really
could move surprisingly fast when it put its mind to it. Strangely enough I did not
suffer a bout of insomnia after that. Maybe the 'lightning never strikes twice'
psychology came to my aid. Up 7.45 am to the sound of two lyrebirds scratching
and whistling in the bracken only ten metres away from the tent. They didn't seem
to mind my looking at them and in fact completely ignored me. (There's another one
on the other side of the river right now trying to pretend it's a black cockatoo - at
least it was until I whistled a couple of bars of a song to it several times. It tried to
imitate these, but wasn't at all satisfied with the effect and has now lapsed into
disgruntled silence. The wildlife is surprisingly tame around here. A small grey heronlike bird repeatedly let me get within about twenty metres of it, and would each
time move only a short distance off, when I was on my way home this evening.) Over
breakfast I decided to go down the river today instead of my previous plan, and allow
half a day to go up the Capertee tomorrow. That way I will get an afternoon's start
back up the Wolgan, which will make Tuesday less strenuous. Set off at 9.30 am
with a daypack. Things are a bit untidy just here, where floods have dumped large
quantities of sand and debris at the meeting of the two rivers, but downstream, where
a square, northwards-pointing loop of the river preserves an ancient meander, the
scenery becomes very fine indeed. Long reflecting pools in the river are flanked by
yellow sandy beaches and bright green casuarinas with black bark on their trunks.
The ever-present vertical cliffs tower up sheer for 300 m on either side, grey and
black and tinged with purple, and if you are looking along the length of a straight
stretch of the river it is possible to see incredibly high country, remote and rough,
back beyond the tops of the cliffs. It is another world up there, suspended almost
unbelievably far above this one. You wade the long pool, feeling about the size of an
ant. The river turns suddenly east, and the beaches and pools give way to a rocky
section with deep black waterholes, where it's easier to scrub-bash along the steep
sides for a while. Flood debris is left among the branches to an amazing height above
the river. I'd hate to get caught here when it's like that - in places the river rises more
than twenty metres! Below a place where two creeks come in almost opposite one
another the valley (gorge, rather) becomes even narrower and the river spreads out to
take up all the space between the walls. The only way then is to wade it. Quite a lot
of worry with quicksand. Completely unpredictable and impossible to tell where you'll
strike it. Went down to the top of my thighs several times. Probably there was no real
57
danger in the sense that there were no places where it was any deeper than that though that assertion could perhaps only be disproved at the cost of not coming back!
It all made for rather slow travelling. Time seemed to be passing faster than my
approach to the day's goal, which was at least to reach the Colo. In the middle of the
flooded section I tried to take a photo - only to find that the shutter on my camera
had jammed. Don't seem to be able to un-jam it, so I guess that's the last of the
photographs. The last bit proved quite awkward and I had to retrace an attempt to
get round on ledges on the south side and tackle some large boulders and a deep pool
in the river which I'd tried to avoid. Finally reached the start of the Colo at 1.45 pm
Wollemi Creek was another disappointing, sullen trickle. The bushlrres which were
such a worry last week had burnt right up the cliffs on the east side of Wollemi Creek
and the Colo - it must have been a fearsome blaze. However, the Colo valley was
much wider than the Capertee gorge and looked like the start of some fascinating
country. Crossed a wide sandy beach to put my feet in the Colo, took a last longing
look down the valley to where it disappeared around a bend, and then started on my
return journey without further ado. This was an uneventful slog, except that at four
pm a thunder storm began and warm rain poured down until half past five, long
before which time I had become indistinguishable from a drowned rat. The reverberation of the thunder among the gorges was deafening and I wondered as I
floundered from one quicksand debacle to another what would happen if lightning
hit the river. Got back here at 6.15 pm.
MONDAY 7 JANUARY:
Rain again in the morning, so I stayed in bed until it stopped. Got away 9.50 am to
walk up the Capertee. Once I got above some stagnant pools at the confluence it
turned out to be a better stream than I had imagined, although much smaller than
the Wolgan, as I have noted. Met a party of four men coming down the Capertee about
an hour out from camp. They asked me where the Wolgan was - starting to worry
that they might have missed it! As if what that said about their navigation wasn't bad
enough, they said they'd met a party further up the Capertee who imagined they
were on the Colo!! These people shouldn't be out here. Walled in on either side, you'd
58
think it would be impossible for anyone to go wrong. I told them to watch out for
my tent, an hour away right on the confluence, and to turn right when they got to it.
I carried on up the Capertee as far as Mt Morgan Creek - not so named on the map,
but it should be quite clear from the map which creek is meant. Back to camp 12.45
pm. Lunch, packed up, and off 1.30 pm. Saw the seven ducks again. They flew ahead
of me up the Wolgan for quite a long way. Came across the bloated corpse of a cow
which had got stuck in quicksand. The stench was frightful, but worse was the fact
that the hide was so distended that it looked as if even an incautiously heavy footfall
would be sufficient to set off an explosion with utterly unthinkable results. I edged
past lightly and nervously as fast as I possibly could. Found before long that I was
overtaking the Capertee party, even though I was not travelling particularly fast. Had
a few further words with them before they dropped behind. Stopped just before four
pm on the sharp bend where Mt Morgan comes into view and it is possible to see
both ways along the valley. Tomorrow will be a very short day if I go only to the
place below Rocky Creek; but it would be a very long day to go right back to Newnes,
and I have no particular desire to spend a night camped at Newnes anyway. We'll see
how things go. Had long had my tent up and was finishing a cup of coffee by the
time the other party came through at 4.30 pm. They are hoping to get to Annie
Rowan tonight. Travelling at their speed it will be a late evening! Anyway, it's time
I started doing something about something to eat.
TUESDAY 8 JANUARY:
Overcast in the morning, but scattered cloud and some sun this afternoon, and when
that sun comes out it is hot! However, the air is pleasantly cool and I really have very
little to complain about weather-wise. Up 7.40 am and left 9.20. The first bit was
just as tedious and tiresome as it was on the way down. This time I tried staying more
in the river, and if I left it, did so on the north side - but it really didn't make any
difference. However, got clear of the bouldery bit in about ninety minutes and
carried on upstream. Saw a very large monitor lizard which had started to climb a
gum tree moments before I came along. I got a very good look at it - what a pity
the camera is on the blink. It stayed still the whole time I was there. It would have
been more than four feet long. Beautifully camouflaged to match the bark of the gum
tree. I was rather surprised at the length of its snout, protruding well in front of the
eyes. In fact with that and a rather snake-like tongue which it kept darting out, anyone who hadn't located the eyes would probably have said it had a very snake-like
head and cobra-like shoulders. The rest of the beast, however, was reassuringly fourlegged, though I don't think I'd like a scratch from some of those claws! I refrained
from walking under the tree it was on in case it got frightened, fell out of the tree, and
then, in the confusion, tried to climb up me. Lunch at Annie Rowan, back in snake
territory: a large red-bellied black rushed into the river as I approached and swam off
underwater for the other bank. Doubled back up the 'paddock' (as the bikies had
described the flood flats) until I found the 4WD track and from there it has been an
uneventful plod to the planned campsite which I reached at 2.40 pm, a ridiculously
early time to stop. Had a really good bath in the river and stood around in the sun to
dry. My right wrist is quite swollen as a result of a bull ant bite on the inside of my
lower forearm yesterday morning. I reckon there was more than just formic acid in
that shot. By the fire this evening I got a really savage bite on the left instep from a
jack jumper, so I suppose that will swell up too. However, one very pleasant surprise
has been that there have been almost no mosquitoes - certainly none whining around
inside the tent keeping me awake. That is an even greater and more pleasant surprise
than the weather.
WEDNESDAY 9 JANUARY:
Up a little after six. Spectacular early sun colours on the cliffs and I wished my camera
was still working. Set off 7.35 am and got to Rocky Creek in just on an hour as per
estimate. Wildlife more prolific than ever, though apart from one nearly black
kangaroo and many birds it was almost entirely reptilian - and dismayingly active,
too. First another monitor lizard, only about half as large as the one I saw yesterday,
but with the same superb, patterned hide. Later, as I came over a rise, a goanna,
59
North side of Wolgan Valley , 8 km from Newnes
60
- Graham Wills-Johnson
suddenly seeing me, rushed off the track. When I got to the place where it had been I
looked into the bush where it had gone to see if it was still in sight.. ...and was
confronted, in a defensive attitude, by a black snake! I retreated hurriedly, realising
that I had interrupted an incident which would otherwise presumably have ended
with the snake becoming the goanna's breakfast. I hope it remembered to come back
for its meal later. There were the marks of the chase along the track for fifty metres or
more. I had several other encounters, but really began to wish things would quieten
down when a rather smaller black snake than most of the others, leaping and
springing, rushed across the road in pursuit of something. I realised it was chasing its
breakfast - a grasshopper or cricket - and was so intent that it didn't even notice
me. It caught its prey in mid-air a short distance off the track. I was very thankful that
the grasshopper had gone that way, instead of springing in my direction. I have never
seen a snake leaping like that before, and didn't realise how fast they can move when
they are really excited. Very sobering. The later part of the morning got very hot and
my shoulders and neck rather stiff and sore, so it was a relief to get back to Newnes at
11.45 am - ten minutes over the four hours I'd estimated. To the pub, where the
licensee sold me a can of beer just before he locked up. Then he got into his utility
and drove off. After he had gone I was the only soul in the 'township' of Newnes.
I sat on the verandah and drank my beer. I went to the river for a wash. I got into
the car and started out for Sydney. And there was nobody left at Newnes at all.
Postscript
The pro's and con's of solo walking were discussed by Michael Griffin in Walk 81 . I
have little to add except, 'Walk with a club'. Walk with a club for several years at least.
In neither of the two most unpleasant incidents in my bushwalking career, one of
which failed only by the most incredibly lucky chance to result in a fatality in a party
of which I was a member, and the other of which did result in a fatality in another
party we had met up with - in neither of these incidents did the size of the party play
any part. Both incidents were directly traceable to inexperience. Experience is the
prime necessity, regardless of party size. The most reliable place to gain it is with a club.
Almost as important as experience for the solo walker, and I feel sure my story
clearly shows it, is a healthy streak of cowardice. 'The valiant taste of death but once... '
- sometimes pretty early in the piece if they're too bloody stupid not to keep
thinking ahead.
Alone- Corella Creek, near Red castle
- Philip Larkin
61
BASIC MOUNTAINEERING
Bill Metzenthen
By late 1979 I had had a number of years of experience in outdoor activities. Although
I felt reasonably confident in most circumstances my confidence waned when large
vertical drops were involved. A natural concern for my own safety led to an interest in
mountaineering - I had no interest in mountaineering for its own sake, being somewhat suspicious that all mountaineers are crazy.
The way I reasoned, if you had some basic mountaineering skills then you were
unlikely to get into much trouble with the assorted relatively easy obstacles normally
encountered in the Australian bush. Thus I decided to go on one of the basic
mountaineering courses available in New Zealand. Besides, I was to make my first
trip to NZ and the course should provide some sort of introduction to the place.
At $NZ165 for 6 days, the 1:ourse at Alpine Guides (Mt Cook) was reasonable value,
including as it did, accommodation and meals. A tourist bus goes to the Hermitage at
Mt Cook, which is convenient because the Alpine Guides office is in the Hermitage.
What was not convenient for me was the fact that the reporting time for the course
was mid-day whilst the bus arrival time was in mid-afternoon. So, arriving a day early
I camped at a suitable site just past Foliage Hill, which is about 1.5 km up the
Hooker Valley from the Hermitage. Fortunately, the reporting time for the course
has been changed and is now the same as the scheduled arrival time of the bus.
Basic equipment was not a major problem, normal bad weather gear suitable for the
Australian Alps is sufficient. Crampons and other specialised equipment can be hired
or purchased from Alpine Guides. Because the course is held in summer, extra attention
needs to be paid to protection for the skin and eyes from the strong UV encountered
at altitude.
To ensure a place on a course it is wise to have a booking confumed well before the
course is due to begin. However, the course I attended was not full and one
participant was able to join the course more or less on the spur of the moment.
Things moved slowly after reporting to the office. An hour or two was spent getting
personal equipment ready and sharing out common equipment and food to be
carried to the venue for the first stage of the course. At about 3 pm the eight of us,
including two instructors, piled into the Land Rover and drove to the Tasman
Glacier. There were two Australians, two New Zealanders, two Americans, an Alpine
Guides instructor and a visiting instructor from Ruapehu in the north island.
After a short swim in one of the Blue Lakes and an easy walk of a few kilometers we
were in Ball Shelter, which is built on the moraine beside the Tasman Glacier.
The weather on day two was abysmal and was passed in the hut discussing the theory
(or what passes for it) of mountaincraft.
Day three delivered weather which was marginally better and we headed up the
valley to the Ball Glacier and then down the moraine wall onto the Tasman Glacier.
Full use was made of some of the huge melt holes in the ice to practice the use of ice
axe and crampons. A large overhanging ice formation provided an ideal site to learn
the use of ice screws and ice bollards as secure anchor points for the rope whilst we
abseiled down and ascended using prussik loops. Well, some of the others ascended I discovered that a certain form of improvised harness made the effective use
of prussik loops virtually impossible.
62
.... assorted relatively easy obstacles (near Mt Lot)
63
- Ken MacMahon
Day four greeted us with the spectacle of new fallen snow. The instructor decided
that it was about time that we moved to another location to continue the
course. So it was back to the Hermitage and then a hike and a one thousand metre
climb up to Mueller Hut on the Sealy Range. A break of a few minutes on the way up
allowed time for a swim in the Sealy Tarns. The temperature of the water at this
altitude ensured that the break was not long.
The fifth day was spent practicing self arrests on the snow slopes and indulging in
some pleasant rock climbing.
Day six turned on weather bad enough to force the cancellation of our plan for an
alpine start (about 3 am) to climb a local peak. In fact the weather also caused us to
abandon a less ambitious attempt later in the morning and the rest of the day was
spent in practicing the techniques we had learned on the course.
The final day began with similar weather. The morning went in discussion of mountain
safety and after lunch we descended to the Hermitage where the group rapidly
dissipated as each individual departed for his own destination. For my part, I had
another two weeks in New Zealand and the next day crossed the Copland Pass ... but
that is another story.
near Mt Aspiring
Two and a half years after finishing the course it is difficult for me to say whether
my objective of enhancing my safety has been fulfilled. I am almost certainly able to
assess the risks of a particular situation much more accurately. On the other hand, I
suspect that I am more likely to take calculated risks for their own enjoyment. In
other words, my outlook has changed as a result of a number of experiences including
the course, to the degree that I now have an interest in mountaineering for its own
sake.
New Zealand seems to be suffering from severe inflation, the fee for the 1982/83
introductory course is $NZ383 - more than double in three years. The address of
Alpine Guides Mt Cook Ltd is PO Box 20, Mount Cook. An alternative to the
Alpine Guides course is one run by Mountain Recreation based in the Mt Aspiring
National Park. Their address is PO Box 204, Wanaka. Their course appears to be
similar and their charges are comparable.
Two books which I consider worthwhile buying are the New Zealand Mountain Safety
Council publications Manual 3 - Mountaincraft, and Manual 5 - Exposure or
Hypothermia. The first covers virtually everything dealt with in the course and a lot
more. I would recommend the second book as being easy to understand and, perhaps
more important, interesting.
64
MAD DOGS AND ......... .
Arthur Francis
Fire, fire, burn stick;
Stick, stick, beat dog;
Dog, dog, bite pig;
Pig won't jump over the stile
And I shall not get home tonight.
The Old Woman and her Pig
Second Book of Victorian Readers, 1930.
It could have been Batman Avenue, Melbourne, on a Sunday morning. A quiet day
with a strong sun, and walkers congregating to board the coach.
But it was Wellington, Shropshire, England, and the fox terrier sitting on his master's
knee across the aisle of the coach, looked as if he'd been on club walks for years.
A floppy red setter raced a shaggy Afghan up the aisle for the remaining territory up
the back, and as the coach pulled out of the Victoria St., bus station, we had fiftyfour East Shropshire and Shrewsbury ramblers, five dogs, and one Australian on board.
Up the AS we went, skirting around Shrewsbury with its streets Wyle Cop, Butchers
Row, Fish Street and Bear Steps, through prosperous looking rural Shropshire, into
hilly Wales.
We all travelled well, and the dogs were content to lie under seats, on laps, or in the
aisle.
Britain was having one of those marvellous summers. The pageant was over, the royal
honeymooners had sailed away, the skies were cloudless, the sun bathtime warm, and
Ian Botham was knocking the stuffing out of those pretentious cricketing colonials.
The walk started at an ancient ferry crossing on the Conway River by the Tal-y-cafn
bridge, and the pace was extremely comfortable. The dogs however, wanted to get on
with it and leashes strained as owners were pulled through leafy lanes, and along
footways that at times sliced, hardwon, through farms, and even between outhouses
and barns.
But it was the stiles that slowed those dogs down, and time after time the walk
came to a grinding halt as a stile took on a dog, and won.
The walkers formed a typically British queue while owners and helpers tried to
extricate fifty pounds of writhing dog from a non yielding stile.
Stiles have character, and some of them are as hard on dogs as they are on pigs and
little old ladies.
Some stiles are high and upright, of the cold tubular steel johnny-come-lately variety.
Others are middle of the road, clean and strong, of well grained, well bred wood. My
favourites though, are as old as the hedgerows they straddle, aged and crumbling
with the wood of years.
It was lunchtime before we knew it.
65
Lunch, British rambler style, seems to be invariably taken at an accommodating little
pub in an equally accommodating little village; and this day was no exception. The
accommodating little pub was the Twy Gwyn and the accommodating village was
Roewen, a small place tucked into a fold between the Carneddau mountains; white
stone, grey slate roofs, brilliant red geraniums in pots, petunias in the window boxes,
and roses up the walls.
The publican was proud of the local chilled lager which I sipped under a bright
umbrella in a sunny beer garden through which flowed, yes you guessed it, a crystal
brook.
The dogs were quiet after lunch, and their tongues lolled as we climbed the steep
shady lane up to the youth hostel at Rhiw, to share its superb view of the valleys, so
verdant below.
Somewhere, on an ancient Roman road, the party divided and through a moments
inattention I found myself missing out on a side trip to the 2000 ft summit of
Tal-y-fan. But it was too nice a day to castigate myself, the company was good, and
anyway before long, the party rejoined on scenic moorland overlooking the sunlit
Welsh coast, the seaside town of Llanfairfechan, the Menai Straits and the island of
Anglesey.
Airey 's Inlet
- Philip Larkin
Here, I quote from the walks program. It says, 'on reaching Llanfairfechan there will
be time for bathing before the coach returns'.
Now when the tide goes out at Llanfairfechan, it goes out about half a mile, leaving
piles of grey rocks and oozy, sometimes muddy sand. This, combined with the
thought of cold Menai Straits water deterred me from trying to live up to the bronzed
Bell's Beach-Bondi image.
Nothing however, deterred those dogs. They raced that half mile to the waters edge
spraying the wet sand with flashing paws, gambolled in the shallows, dashed back,
shook water all over us and took off again.
Soon it was time to go home for fJ.fty-four East Shropshire and Shrewsbury ramblers,
one bemused Australian and five sopping wet dogs.
It was hot in the bus, and the wet dogs began to smell as only wet dogs can.
But it was all part of the day. We had a bit of a sing-a-long on the way home. Someone asked me to sing Waltzing Matilda but I couldn't remember the words.
66
SHRINKING SNOW GUMS
Contributed by Graham Mascas
If you are the skiing type, ponder the snow gum next time you indulge in your
favourite pastime. Those little trees on the snow field are probably quite a bit thinner
than they would be in warmer weather.
This rather unexpected fact came by chance from some CSIRO research into the
ecology of snow gums. Mr Eddie Pook and Mr Terry Hall, of the Division of Plant
Industry, were routinely measuring year-round the growth of the boles of 10 mature
trees in south-eastern New South Wales at an altitude of 1250 metres.
At dawn on one particularly cold August morning, for example, when the
temperature was -7°C, their trees had slimmed down by amounts varying between
one-half and four times the additional width put on during the previous growing
season. All the trees had more or less recovered their original dimensions when remeasured a week later under warmer conditions.
Actually, it's not only snow gums that contract in cold weather. Conifers and
deciduous hardwoods growing in the cold high latitudes of the Northern Hemisphere,
have been known to do so for many years. But this was the first time this shrinking
had been recorded in evergreen hardwoods.
Until recently, nobody has been able to prove why this phenomenon happens. Mr
Pook and Mr Hall think that they have now satisfactorily done so - thanks to the
rather more amenable type of bark found on snow gums.
This bark is live tissue almost all the way through. Only a very thin dead outer layer
covers the living tissue, and making measurements of growth and interpreting them
are relatively simple. By contrast, barks of cold-climate and deciduous hardwoods
have a fairly thick corky outer layer of dead cells, which complicates things greatly.
To locate where the shrinkage was going on, the two scientists measured the thickness
of the bark and the diameter of the woody cylinder. Shrinkage seemed to occur
mainly in the bark, not in the wood.
To track down the source of shrinkage more closely, they then cut logs about 30 em
in diameter from sound mature trees. To maintain the logs' water content the
researchers sealed their ends with waterproof silicone grease, wrapped them in plastic,
and placed them in a cold room. With appropriate measuring techniques they were
thus able to accurately follow what was going on in the bark and wood under
controlled conditions of freezing and thawing.
To begin with, the dimensions of the logs remained unchanged as their temperatures
dropped to freezing point. Water in the outer layers of the bark began to freeze only
when the surface had cooled to about -4°.
The logs started to contract some time after ice formation began. Shrinkage occurred
only in the bark; indeed when the sapwood froze it expanded slightly. If allowed to
thaw out, the logs expanded once again practically to their original dimensions.
What was going on? Mr Pook and Mr Hall did further experiments in which they
checked the changes in the dimensions of isolated pieces of living bark as these were
frozen and thawed. As a result of their experiments they support an already-existing
explanation that says that ice forms in the numerous small spaces between the cells of
the live bark tissue.
67
Snow Gums
- Glenn Sanders
It seems that when the tissue temperature fell to about -4°C, ice began to form in the
spaces, but not inside the cells. Ice formation and tissue shrinkage in the pieces of
bark began at exactly the same time. Ice did not enter the cells. Rather, water
diffused out through the cell walls and formed more ice in the spaces.
If the temperature rose again, then the process was reversed - and water vapour
diffused back into the cells. The shrinking of the bark was thus caused by the cells
becoming smaller as water diffused out of them. Water diffusing back into the cells
made the bark thicken again as it thawed out.
This explanation isn't actually so surprising. One of the reasons for snap-freezing
fruits and vegetables to preserve them in the best condition is that if they are cooled
too slowly sap diffuses out of their cells and they shrink - just like bark.
The two scientists have now checked other species of gum trees in Canberra, and it
appears that they too contract on some very frosty nights.
REFERENCE:
Studies of the volumetric response of snow gum bark to freezing. E.W. Pook and
T. Hall. Forest Science, 977, 23 (in press).
Acknowledgement is made to the editor of ECOS magazine for his permission to
reprint this article.
68
FIRE ON THE SNOW - FOR THE BEGINNER
'Do you think', I asked, waving an enamel dinner-plate at them, 'that it would help if
I flapped?' Baleful eyes emerged from a thin column of acrid smoke and glared at me.
They returned, having delivered their contemptuous message, to their task of trying
to coax some life into the campfire, without a word having been spoken. None, if it
came to that, was really needed. 'A fire on the snow is an unforgettable experience',
they had said. 'All that is required is a little patience and the correct technique.' Well,
there was no denying their patience, nor, for that matter, their stamina. They had
been at it now for three quarters of an hour (though my cold wet feet seemed to
think it was much longer than that) and I could not but be amazed at how much air
they could still blow into one small pile of damp sticks, particularly as their lungs
must by now have been liberally coated with pungent smoke. If it was not patience
that was lacking, dared one speculate that they might have been a little short on
technique?
'A fire on the snow', I said, proffering them a small tin containing several broken
pieces of meta-tab, 'is an unforgettable experience. All that is required is a little
patience and the correct technique. Do you think another one or two of these might
help? ' There was a derisive snort somewhere near the base of the column of smoke,
followed, not as expected by a stream of invective, but by a veritable eruption of
coughing and spluttering. Ah well - Yetis are used to being ignored. Some people
don't even believe we exist, and it's hard to be more thoroughly ignored than that.
Putting out of mind my cold wet feet, which were complaining again, I fell to
cogitating.
'There is something on this one', I muttered, chasing a seeminglyTudoresque phantom
through my vague, shadowy memories of our vast and ancient Yeti folklore. Now,
what was it? It was a little bit later, wasn't it? Aha! Yes! About the time of the
dreadful spotted flin, at the time the Moguls were restored. As always, there was a
Yeti at the centre of the action. A youthful and libidinous Yeti at the time he was,
who rejoiced in the possibly unusual, but by no means inappropriate name of
Yetipeeps.
'I've got it!', I cried. 'You'll get it', they growled, 'if you don't get off that wood heap
and start passing us some more wood, instead of just getting in the way.' Yes! Master
Yetipeeps of Old Katmandu: insatiable sizer-up of exotic bellydancers on the local
stage. He, having seen and admired, confided all to a little black book, using a cursive
Runic script in which he usually wrote all the naughtiest words backwards, in the
fond but deluded belief that nobody (particularly his wife) would ever decipher the
steamy and salacious details. Now, it is one of the darkest secrets of the Yeti clan that
there was the closest possible connection between the overheated imagination of
Master Yetipeeps, and the outbreak of the calamitous Great Conflagration of
Katmandu!
'What on earth', you are heard to ask, 'does any of this improbable-sounding
nonsense have to do with a shivering group of miserable idiots, standing knee-deep in
snow at the top of the Diamantina Spur around a steaming pile of damp wood, at the
onset of a dark night early in August? ' Surely, what the amorous thoughts of one
Yeti in seventeenth-century Katmandu could accomplish, could likewise be accomplished by those of another on the wintery slopes of twentieth-century Feathertop!
I cast about for inspiration. None was to be found in the dark huddled shapes in wet
parkas, persisting even yet in exercising their tired lungs at the base of the fire. None
was to be found in the icicle hanging dismally from a dead branch nearby; none in the
sigh of a chilly wind in the frozen snowgums. I cast about more desperately .... and
knew, then, that I must fail. Have you ever tried to have amorous thoughts when your
feet are in a bucket of cold water? It doesn't work.
'A fire on the snow is an unforgettable experience', they had said. As usual, they
were absolutely right.
.......Yeti.
69
MAPPING
Philip Larkin
Before looking at how to find the information or map you need, it will be helpful to
explain some map terminology.
Many misunderstood terms are freely used in referring to the scale of maps, such as
fifty thou, large scale, and one in a million. Small and large are comparative terms
referring to the image size appearing on maps of different scales. On a large scale map,
1:10,000 for example, one centimetre on the map equals 10,000 centimetres or
100 metres on the ground. On a small scale map, 1:100,000 for example, one centimetre on the map equals one million centimetres or ten kilometres on the ground.
You are more likely to get the maps you want if you know how Victorian mapping is
organised. Victorian mapping in turn is more clearly understood if we start with an
overview of Australian mapping.
In general the Division of National Mapping (Natmap) and the Royal Australian Survey
Corps map Australia at 1:50,000, 1:100,000 and 1:250,000, and produced imperial
series at 1 :63,360 before metrication.
Each state makes maps for its purposes, usually including maps of the whole state at
small scales, medium scale maps of major cities, and large scale maps for cadastral and
engineering purposes. Each state has an agency whose major purpose is mapping, and
many other agencies that produce maps in the process of carrying out their works
projects.
Topographic map coverage of Victoria is generally provided by the Victorian Division
of Survey and Mapping, Department of Crown Lands and Survey, and by the Division
of National Mapping. They sell standard series and provide information about maps
in progress. Large scale maps are also made by works agencies such as the Melbourne
and Metropolitan Board of Works, the Gas and Fuel Corporation, the State Electricity
Commission, the State Rivers and Water Supply Commission, the Forests Commission,
the Department of Minerals and Energy and the Ministry of Conservation.
Hence, if Lands or Natmap are not adequate for your needs, you may find that some
other agency, as part of its operations, has mapped the area you want.
How do you find out which agency is mapping where?
The Division of Survey and Mapping can tell you where detailed mapping of the area
you are interested in may be found. Also check the Lands Department Map Sales
Office to find out what published maps are already available.
The information you are seeking might not best be found on a topographic map. An
aerial photograph or an orthophotomap, made up of many aerial photographs, may
be more appropriate. If you tell the map officer the area you are interested in and
why, he or she will help you get the best information.
NEW MAPS ISSUED FROM AUGUST 1981
The various mapping agencies kept up a steady supply of maps over the past twelve
months.
The Crown Lands Department of Victoria have issued several new maps in the
1:25,000 series. By using the 1:100,000 name as a basic reference, and adding the
subsection name of the map, you should be able to obtain the map you want. The
maps are: Bacchus Marsh 7722-Yaloak; Bendigo 7724-Crusoe, Epson and Maldon;
70
Nobby's, Phillip Island
- Philip Larkin
Castlemaine 7723-Newstead; Melbourne 7822-Bullen Garook and Toolem Vale;
Mortlake 7421-Allanford, Bushfield and Mepunga; Warragul 8021-Jeetho and Lang
Lang; Warrnambool 7321-Lady Bay; and Wonthaggi 8020-Dalyston.
In the 1:50,000 series there are no new issues, but all the out of print issues have been
reprinted and are now in stock.
In the 1:100,000 series all of Victoria, including Bogong 8324, is now covered, except
for Melbourne 7822 and Ringwood 7922.
The 1:63,360 series is now out of print and no longer available except for:
Tocumwal770; Buraja 771; Howlong 772 ; Albury 782 ; Wangaratta 791; Bendigo 807;
Pyalong 818; Balian 837; Sunbury 838; Rosewood 846; Melbourne 848; Bairnsdale
854; Hartland 855; Beeac 856; Geelong 857; Moe 861; Rosedale 862; Sale 863;
Stockyard 864; Anglesea 866; Korumburra 869; Mirboo North 870; Stradbroke 872;
Woolami 874; Wonthaggi 875; Foster 876; Alberton 877; Liptrap 880; Cliffy 881A;
Penshurst 918; Chatsworth 919; Lismore 920; Nelson 922; Heywood 923; Hawkesdale 924; Mortlake 925; Bridgewater 927; Portland 928; Port Fairy 929; Panmure
930; and Port Campbell 932. All these are still available from the Map Sales Centre,
35 Spring Street, Melbourne, until sold out.
Whilst on National Mapping, the NSW Central Mapping Authority has issued a
number of maps in the 1:50,000 series, which cover the NSW-Victorian border on
both sides. They are: Delegate, Numbla Vale, Suggan Buggan, Threbo and Tombong,
which cover the southern end of the Kosciusco National Park. Further along the
Murray they have published Barham, Keely, Kerang, Swan Hill and Wakool.
71
The Forest Commission has published two new colour maps. The first is the Macedon
Forest Park Map at 1:35,000, which covers Macedon, Woodend, Mount Macedon
and east of the Calder Highway to Riddells Creek and Mount Charlie. The other is the
Wombat State Forest Map at 1:25,000, which covers an area north of the western
highway including Wallace, Gordon, Balian, Bacchus Marsh and Melton, through to
Mount Franklin, Daylesford, Malmsbury, Kyneton and Woodend. This map also
covers the Lerderderg Gorge State Park.
The MMBW has published a limited topographical metric series of twenty-one maps
at 1:50,000. They cover an area including Daylesford, Licola, Winchelsea, Traralgon,
Torquay, Kyneton, Leongatha and Jamieson. These maps are coloured and feature
drainage patterns, roads, municipal boundaries, railways and river and stream
catchments. They have twenty metre contours. They are numbered but not named.
The Mount Baw Baw map has been revised at a scale of 1:25,000 with five metre
contours and printed in colour. The map is by Fritz Balka of 46 Napier Street,
Fitzroy.
The Mount Buffalo Plateau map has been reprinted and revised at 1:35,000 by Geoff
Lawford of 19 Montal Avenue, Toorak. This map is coloured and features fifteen
metre contours, streams, ridges, rock formations, walking tracks, ski runs and sightseeing vantage points. It also has information on half day and day walks.
Algona Guides have issued three new maps and revised two older issues. The maps
feature walking tracks, ski trails, streams, huts, camping sites and contour intervals.
All maps are printed in black and white and most use red and blue for highlights.
The three new maps are: Lake Mountain, Marysville and Mt Bullfight, with twenty
and forty metre contour intervals, printed at a scale of 1:15,000 and 1:50,000 on the
reverse side; Little Desert National Park and Mt Arapiles, printed at scales of 1:100,000
and 1:25,000; and Mt Stirling features twenty and forty metre contour intervals and
is printed at scales of 1:25,000, 1:12,500 and 1:50,000.
The two revised maps are: Falls Creek, Mt Nelse and the Bogong High Plains, with
twenty metre contour intervals, printed at a scale of 1:25,000 ; and Wyperfeld
National Park and Approaches, printed at scales of 1:250,000 and 1:100,000.
John Siseman's The Alpine Track has been revised and reprinted.
The Mt Buffalo National Park map and the Mt Hotham, Mt Feathertop map are
being revised for the 1983 winter season.
All these maps are available from retail outlets and from Algona Publications Pty Ltd,
16 Charles Street, Northcote.
BOOK REVIEWS
Bushwalking and Mountaincraft Leadership: Manual of the Victorian Bushwalking
and Mountaincraft Training Advisory Board. Melbourne: Victorian Department of
Youth, Sport and Recreation, 1978. Reprinted with corrections, 1981. ISBN
0724186824
This publication was frrst reviewed in Walk 19 79 and has now been reprinted. It serves
primarily as the manual for the BML Course successfully run for many years now in
Victoria.
72
It is extremely practical, and is basically an extended checklist of the skills required
by a leader, and of all the things which must be done to ensure a successful trip. Some
of the sections are relevant only to Victoria. Others presume a level of competence
prior to starting the course, so this is not a book entirely suitable for the beginner. In
each case however, reference is made to the comprehensive bibliography if the
reader needs more information.
Other chapters expand on information available elsewhere. The section on first aid
makes an admirable supplement to basic works such as that published by the
St John Ambulance Association. Very useful information is given on the use of
fuel stoves, and on river crossings: it is good to see that the relevant photo now
shows what the text has always stated about using a stout pole: the pole must be
pointed upstream. An astounding number of books and walkers state that the pole
must point downstream. I can only assume that they have never tried it in a fast
river, or that those who have, have not returned to admit and correct their error.
This is an excellent book and should be required reading for all walkers. All leaders
should re-read it every year. Walk commends the Board and the Department for
republishing it, and for continuing to run their BML Course. The review copy cost
$2.80.
Venemous Creatures of Australia: a Field Guide with Notes on First Aid, by
Struan K. Sutherland. Melbourne, Oxford University Press, 1981. ISBN 0195543173;
0195543181 (pbk)
Struan Sutherland is possibly Australia's leading expert on venemous creatures. He
has written and lectured widely, and if this book is any indication, has developed
considerable skills at communicating his knowledge clearly, simply and effectively.
He presents information on sixty venemous creatures, including snakes, insects,
spiders, ticks, jellyfish, stinging fish, stingrays, cone shells, octopuses, centipedes,
scorpions and platypuses. Many of these are not lethal to man, though venemous,
while the author points out that many non-venemous creatures are lethal, such as
sharks and crocodiles.
The book opens with a concise section on first aid, one of the best I have read. This
is not unexpected, as Sutherland was actively involved in the development of the
latest technique. Then follow two pages on each creature, with a distribution map,
photograph and text describing it and its habits. A typical set of history, signs and
symptoms of victims is set out, and treatment recommended. There is a short
bibliography and an equally short index.
I was quite impressed by this book. Each entry is clearly set out and easy to read,
although the text becomes a little technical in parts, particularly in describing the
'killing power' of the snakes. I have never been particularly interested in how many
times one snake can kill me with one bite! This does not however detract from the
book's value as an essential starting point for all medical personnel who may have to
deal with bites and stings from these creatures. As a general purpose guide for
potential victims it is also very useful.
The paperback edition which I bought would have to be treated with some care as a
field guide, but at least the pages are sewn rather than glued, so the book would hold
together even if it gets a little battered. It measures 230x135x10mm, perhaps a little
large for a field guide, and weighs in at 210g.
My main objection is to the cover, which is a dreadful mish-mash of four colours,
three small photographs and 121 printed words. It really is the worst design I have
come across in many years. Other than that, the layout, printing and quality is
adequate and appropriate for the purpose, and for $9.95 the book represents good
value.
73
Notechis ater, near Red Tape Creek
- Glenn Sanders
74
Above me Only Sky: a Portrait of the Tasmanian Wilderness. Text and photographs
by Martin Hawes. Hobart: Drinkwater, 1981. ISBN 0949903027
I write with great pleasure these few words as a preface to the work of Martin Hawes.
The mountains, the valleys and the rivers of Tasmania are like listening to music, or
like being in love, or like religious belief They help us to know ecstasy and exaltation:
they take us up into the high places. Martin Hawes has the gift to use the camera with
the eye of the artist. He has the gift to put on record the beauty and the mystery
which makes every journey into places of such wonders into a pilgrimage. This work
helps us to see that such places belong to the whole of humanity, that we Australians
must treat them as a sacred trust.
-Manning Clark
Martin Hawes has been walking in Tasmania, often alone, for over twelve years, and
visited the real Lake Pedder before it was destroyed. This book is a collection of
photographs made during those years, photographs which reveal the author's love
for and empathy with the South West.
Many of the photos are of places familiar to walkers, including the Arthur Ranges,
Mt Anne and the South Coast, while others are less well known, such as the
Franklands and the Weld Valley. A few of the photos are somewhat contrived, with
intrusive rainbows and other lighting effects. In comparison with Truchanas, Hawes
has yet fully to learn how to let the subject speak for itself. Most of the photos are,
however, very good indeed.
The text is simple and effective, recounting episodes from trips made by the author.
An occasional self-indulgent passage marrs an otherwise elegant presentation, at least
for a reviewer more used to the great Australian understatement.
Above me Only Sky continues the tradition of The World ofOlegas Truchanas. The
photographs are superbly printed, and the making of the book is a bibliophile's
delight. It is rare, in these days of coffee table quickie rip-offs to come across a book
created and manufactured with such craft and skill.
The day I sat down to write this review, The Age quoted the Tasmanian premier,
Mr Gray, as saying that the Franklin River is for eleven months of the year 'nothing
but a brown ditch, leech-ridden and unattractive to the majority of people' and
further, that 'the environmental significance of the area has been grossly overstated'.
Even those who have not seen the South West should be persuaded by this book that
Mr Gray is tragically wrong. The man must be completely insensitive - but then, he
is an Australian politician.
$24.95 is a small price to pay for such an emotive and personal statement of one man's
commitment to a wilderness -buy it, and weep for Tasmania.
75
Ti/iqua nigrolutea
- Glenn Sanders
A Field Guide to Reptiles of the Australian High Country, by R. Jenkins and
R. Bartell Melbourne: lnkata Press, 1980. ISBN 0909605165
How do you get good photographs of snakes? Well, they are cold-blooded, so you
just pop them in the fridge for a while. Once they have slowed down, you can arrange
them suitably for your photographs, turn oR the studio floodlights and start clicking
away. But floodlights : that means that things get hot, doesn't it? And when the
snakes warm up .....
Such dedication, and six years of work, has produced a superb book which Walk has
no hesitation in recommending to anyone interested in the reptiles of south eastern
Australia. Although the coverage is specifically of the southern highlands, many of
the reptiles are far more widely distributed, so the book has general applicability. The
authors aimed to fill the gap between the superficial treatment of the popular and
coffee table books, and the detailed textbooks, and have succeeded admirably.
The first 7 5 pages contain a description of the physiographic features and reptile
habitats of the region, and a general discussion of the characteristics, identification
and classification of reptiles. This is easy to follow, even for the lay reader, and well
illustrated with colour photos, diagrams and maps.
The next 171 pages contain descriptions and photos of the tortoises, lizards and
snakes represented in the area. Each is described in detail, as are its habitat and habits,
and there is in every case a photograph.
The remaining 31 pages contain a brief and up to date section on the treatment of
snake bite, a comprehensive glossary of terms, bibliography, general index and an
index of scientific terms.
The book itself is well designed and produced. Its compact size (187x130x21mm)
and sturdy, hardback format should stand up well to the rigours of field use, and at
150g it is not too heavy to be carried. I did not find any typographical errors, and the
printing and binding are a credit to the craft. The colour plates are in general very
good, considering the difficulty of getting accurate colour reproduction from Asian
printers: an occasional plate is too blue, although this may be the fault of the
purveyors of modern, high speed colour film, who seem determined to persuade us
that the world is naturally viewed through ice-blue filters.
My copy cost $19.95.
Jenkins, Bartell and Inkata Press can be proud of this one.
- Glenn Sanders
76
TRACK NOTES
These track notes are published to assist new and experienced walkers. Every effort is
made to ensure their accuracy. Permission should always be sought prior to crossing
private land. Walkers should always carry map and compass, appropriate clothing and
first aid equipment. A reliable person not going on the walk should know your plans,
party size and expected time of return. And please be warned: information given in
these notes will become out of date as man-made features come and go. Walk accepts
no responsibility for misinterpretations by the reader, or for changes in track conditions
and descriptions.
Walk will be pleased to receive corrections and amendments to these notes.
TWO DAY BASE CAMP AND ONE DAY WALK
LORNE FOREST PARK: CUMBERLAND RIVER BASE CAMP AND CUMBERLAND
RIVER DAY WALK
Transport: Private. Take the Great Ocean Road through Lome to Cumberland River,
approximately seven km from the Post Office at Lome. Turn right at the
Cumberland River, over the stream into the camping reserve. The reserve is a
public camping area: phone Lome (052) 89 1552 for bookings.
Features: This area is notable for its sheer beauty, scenic coast and peaceful forest
reserves. It offers a natural forest backdrop to the ocean and includes several
swiftly flowing streams offering numerous waterfalls, cascades and rapids. The
walking tracks follow approximately 24 km of historic timber tramway routes
and wind through fern gullies and gorges, past many cliff faces. There is an
abundance of fauna such as the Echidna, Platypus, Possums and Glider
Possums.
Best Season: Early Spring for the wildflowers, to mid Autumn, when the weather is
still quite mild for swimming after the walks.
Standard: Easy-medium.
Map References: Lome 1 :50,000; Lome Forest Commission map and information
sheet.
CUMBERLAND RIVER BASE CAMP (2 DAYS)
First day: allow approximately nine hours.
The first day's walking starts from the Cumberland River Reserve (047426), following
the Great Ocean Road north to the St George's River, and finishes at the Erskine Falls
(010507) west of Lome. Use a car shuffle between the start and finish of the walk.
Start from the Cumberland River camping reserve, following the coast north to the
St George's River estuary (072449). Take the walking track following the river to
Allenvale, passing under the shadow of Teddy's Lookout. Turn west at a Forest
Commission sign pointing to Lome (069453). Climb out of a gully, following a minor
stream, to above Allenvale. At the top of the ridge (062458) continue along an
undefined track until reaching a vehicle track. Turn right, following this track around
the ridge to the main Lorne-Allenvale road. At this point turn left and proceed to
Allenvale, following the main road until reaching Forest Commission signs to Lome,
the Great Ocean Road and Phantom Falls (054456). From Allenvale (Forest
Commission signs) proceed to the Phantom Falls via a small farm hamlet and the St
George's River valley, upstream along the walking track.
From the Falls, take the track above the falls and cross over the weir to the northern
side. Proceed to the left through open timber until reaching a vehicle track (044465).
Turn left onto the track and continue until reaching the junction. Take the left hand
fork and proceed up the valley to the lake on the StGeorge's River, an ideal spot for
lunch.
77
Take the vehicle track around the edge of the lake to the northern shore. Follow the
shore line of the lake through the scrub to the northern tip of the lake (037473). At
this point proceed north through the bush, climbing onto the ridge to the Cora Lynn
vehicle track. Turn left and continue along the St George's - Cora Lynn divide until
the track forks. Take the right hand branch and proceed north-west until the vehicle
track disappears (030482). Continue into the scrub for approximately 20 m, then
turn onto a Forest Commission walking track (030483), following the Cora Lynn
Creek south-east. Descend into the narrow fern gully and proceed for approximately
100 m until the track levels out. At this point (034480) turn north into the bush and
cross the Cora Lynn Creek, reaching a very steep bank. Continue north, climbing up
the bank, travelling through very dense bush onto the Cora Lynn - Erskine divide
until reaching an overgrown vehicle track.
Turn left and follow the vehicle track to the main Lome - Erskine road (035486).
Turn right and continue for approximately 100m to a farm gate on the left (038484).
Go through the gate, passing a private property sign, and cross the open farm land,
walking north to the edge of the bush. After reaching the bush continue in a northwesterly direction, descending gradually into the Erskine valley, following the ridge
line down and crossing over a fern gully (042488) . Follow an overgrown walking
track for a small distance before reaching the Erskine walking track. Proceed north
along this track, following the river upstream and crossing it several times before
finishing the walk at the Erskine Falls (010507).
Second day: allow approximately four hours.
The second walk also starts from the Cumberland camping reserve. Follow the
Cumberland River track to the Cumberland Falls (026435). This track passes under
the shadow of Castle Rock and continues to the Langdale Pike cliff face (043431).
Cross over the stream at this point. Follow the track upstream to the cascades
(042432), an ideal swimming spot.
Cross to the southern bank and follow the track upstream, traversing along the top of
the cliff faces to another river crossing. Continue on the opposite side until the track
disappears. Keep going along the river, fording it several times, until reaching the
Cumberland Falls (026435). Return by the same route.
CUMBERLAND RIVER DAY WALK
Allow approximately seven hours.
This walk takes in the upper and lower Kalimna Falls, Sheoak Falls and two swiftly
flowing streams. It starts and finishes at the Cumberland River camping reserve
(047426).
From the reserve follow the Cumberland River, passing under the shadow of Castle
Rock to the Langdale Pike cliff face (043431). Cross the stream at this point and
follow the track to the cascades (042432), an ideal spot for lunch and swimming.
Leave the river valley and climb north above the cascades (045433), following the
ridge line through the bush to the Sheoak - Castle Rock vehicle track (04543 7).
Follow this west to the Garvey track, passing a track on the right down to the Sheoak
picnic ground, and continue on the Castle Rock track to a vehicle barrier (034444)
onto the Garvey track.
Turn southwest for approximately 2 km along the Cumberland - Sheoak divide until
reaching a Forest Commission sign (017436) on the right. Take the foot track behind
the sign and descend to the Little Sheoak Creek and up on the other side of the gully
to the junction of the forest tracks (015439) where there are Forest Commission signs
to the upper and lower Kalimna Falls and the Sheoak picnic grounds.
78
Turn left for the short walk to the upper Kalimna Falls. Return to the junction and
continue downstream to the lower Kalimna Falls where there is further opportunity
for swimming. After the falls the track passes a junction on the left. Keep to the right
and continue along the track, crossing several foot bridges over fern gullies, until
reaching the Sheoak picnic grounds where there is a tourist guide, toilets and
barbeque.
From here take the Sheoak walking track through fern gullies to the Sheoak Falls and
out to the ocean, to finish the walk along the shoreline back to the Cumberland
reserve.
Philip Larkin
November 1981 and May 1982
ONEDAYWALK
ROYSTON VALLEY FORESTS
Transport: To, and from Gerratys Car Park (G/R 882756) situated below Lake
Mountain at the end of the road, 21 km from Marysville.
Features: Forests of tall White Mountain Ash and Woolybutt, groves of lovely
Myrtle Beech trees. Sphagnum Bog morasses in shallow alpine valleys,
sheltered amid glades of silvered snow gums. Walking in peaceful upland
valleys draining mostly into the Royston River.
Distance: 20 km.
Standard: Medium.
Best Season: December- January.
Availability of water: No shortage.
Map Reference: McMahons Creek 1 :50,000; Taggerty F .C.V. 1": 1 Mile.
Leave the car park, walk uphill north and east along the track to Echo Flat, the
shallow sloping valley and sphagnum bog morasses at the head of the Taggerty River
(2 km). Continue north past clear alpine ponds on the left, upwards easterly through
grassy green flats amid dappled silver snow gums, and at 2.5 km arrive at a track
junction, 'The Camp'.
From this point follow the left track out across corduroyed bog to Royston Gap Road
(3.5 km). Turn right, and follow that road downhill through Woolybutt for 2.5 km
to Royston Road, a soft vehicle track to the left (6 km). Turn and follow theieafy
track down northwest to the main head of the Royston River, which tumbles down
from the west through glorious Beech groves (6.5 krn).
Continue downhill northerly through tall, excellent Ash forest into the depths of
Royston Valley, to the spot where the track crosses a main tributary creek coming in
from the west (10 km). The purpose of this walk down into the Royston Valley is to
appreciate the experience of walking through tall, verdant ash forest, seldom seen
since the 1930s. Return to Royston Gap Road and turn left (14 km).
In about 600 metres, cross one of the head waters of Royston River at a Beech grove.
In a further few hundred metres look for an obscure track, leaving on the right
through thick scrub; higher up the track becomes more clearly visible. The track
climbs steeply south-southwest up the timbered spur, with one of the head waters of
the Royston in a deep gully to the right. Climb on to the north end of Jubilee Ridge,
then walk across typical high plains and snow gum country along the cleatly-defined
track past Echo Flat, down to the finishing point (20 km).
F.W.H.
7 July 1982
79
ONE DAY WALK
SfARLINGS GAP TO BIG CREEK, VIA HORNERS TRACK AND THE HIGH LEAD
Transport: To Starlings Gap (G/R 809370) . From Big Creek car park (G/R 857292).
Features: Easy walking through first class Mountain Ash forest, and lovely groves of
Myrtle Beech.
Best Season: Spring and early Summer.
Distance: 15.5 km.
Standard: Easy.
Map Reference: Neerim 1:50,000.
Leave Starlings Gap following the most southerly track, leading south-east and south.
In 1 km. reach Big Creek Road, turn left and walk south to Homers Track (G/R
806355, 2 km). Turn right, walk south and south-west down through good Ash
forest to Fitzpatricks Road (G/R 795339,4 km).
Turn left (east) and follow Fitzpatricks Road, crossing Mackleys Creek at a verdant
gully. At 5.5 km turn left on to Fitzpatricks Fireline. Walk east to Big Creek Road
(6.5 km)
Almost immediately eastward, look for Dowey Spur Road. Walk east along that bush
road, avoiding a road to the right at 9 km and at 10.5 km reach the top of the High
Lead.
Turn right on to the High Lead Track, follow this, climbing past the rusting hardware
and metal junk of the old High Lead (G/R 848330). From this point, look up to see
the high lead trees and the winching points where all the big timber of the past was
winched steeply down the High Lead south into forested Big Creek Valley. Follow
the track down taking great care on the slippery incline, there are four particularly
steep section of this track which plunges 290 metres in 1 km. Pass through magnificent
stands of tall straight Ash.
On reaching the bottom at Big Creek (G/R 846313) turn left and follow the old tram
track south-east through beautiful Ash forest and groves of Myrtle Beech (G/R
859300). From here, follow south and south-west to the Powelltown-Noojee Road,
crossing the Latrobe River over a derelict old log bridge (G/R 857293).
F.W.H.
6 July 1982
ONE DAY WALK
MOUNTTANGLEFOOT- ST LEONARD RIDGE
Transport: To Kalatha Saddle (G/R 557741) from Watts River (G/R 540589) 1.5 km
north of Healesville.
Features: Fine forests of Mountain Ash, Shining Gum, Narrow Leaf Peppermint and
Messmate exist along the ridge north and south of Mount St Leonard. There
are huge Mountain Ash trees adjacent to the Monda Patrol Track, remnants of
the old-time giants typical of the Dividing Range. This is a straight-forward
walk along good, though at times slippery tracks, with no navigational
problems.
Best Season: Late Spring or early Summer.
Distance: 20 km.
Standard: Long easy-medium.
Availability of water: Carry sufficient water, there are no streams along the ridge
route.
Map Reference: Juliet 1:50,000.
80
From the site of the old Kalatlla Saddle forest camp, walk back along the road west
and south to where (G/R 552737) a track leaves towards the south, climbing parallel
to the course of a small creek - the head of Bull Creek. About a kilometre from the
road a track junction is reached. Follow the narrow track steeply uphill, north-west to
the radio ntast on the timbered summit of Mount Tanglefoot (1 ,030 metres, G/R
547732). Return to the track junction (3 km).
Continue south along the ridge, down through Shining Gum and Mountain Ash forest.
The track undulates along the ridge, and at 6.5 km climbs between the trunks of a
forest of giant Mountain Ash trees, up to join the Monda Patrol Track (G/R 550680,
7.5 km).
Turn right, and follow the track along the wide firebreak through an old forest of
giant Ash. In a kilometre, pass through a barrier at a road on the left - the road to
Mount St Leonard Tower.
Follow the steeper track off to the right of the road and climb steeply to the large
tower on the summit of St Leonard. Good views. (G/R 542668, 9.5 km)
Continue over the top, and on along the road to the point south of the summit where
the St Leonard Track leaves the road, steeply down along the well-defined southern
spur. After 2 km down through good Mountain Ash and Shining Gum forest, a road
joins the track, coming in from the right (11.5 km). Continue down along the ridge
track through a sunlit forest of Mountain Ash, Blue Gums, Peppermint and Messntate, through many scenes worthy of photographic record.
Continue south, and at G/R 540617 climb south-west over a timbered bump, then
the somewhat obscure track plunges down south-east into a range saddle (G/R
544611, 15.5 km). 2 km further south, look for phone wires leading down the hill
to the left (east).
Avoid the Donnellys aqueduct area, walk along a track eastwards out to Donnellys
Creek Road. Turn right and follow that road south across green flats dotted with
handsome Manna Gums. Shortly after crossing the Watts River, turn right (west) and
walk 800 metres to the finishing point.
F.W.H.
8 July 1982
ONEDAYWALK
BEENAK FORESTS
Transport: To a point on Beenak Road, 1.6 km east of Soldiers Road, from the
junction of Beenak Road and Soldiers Road.
Features: Excellent forests of Mountain Ash, Shining Gum and Blue Gum. Groves of
Myrtle Beech, Blackwood and Silver Wattle deep in ferny valleys.
Best Season: Spring and early Summer.
Distance: 18 km.
Standard: Medium.
Map Reference: Gembrook 1":1 Mile; Neerim 1:50,000.
From the starting point, situated 700 metres east of Beenak Cemetery, look for the
old vehicular track leading south-east up on to the ridge to the south, the ridge above
Tomahawk Valley. Shortly, the track turns to the east; at 700 metres reach the old
hilltop settlement 'Hunters', the site of the old Beenak P.O., on Ochil Hill.
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Continue east along the walking track through forest along the ridge, and at 2 km
reach Beenak Road. Follow that road east to Basans Corner, an old four way road
junction (3.5 km). Walk southerly along Beenak East Road to Tomahawk Gap
(5.0 km)
At Tomahawk Gap, look for the leaf-strewn wide benched track leading south-east
and east down through dense forest into the Bunyip River Valley. In a further 3 km
down the winding track, reach a junction with another track coming in from the
north-west. Follow that track upstream by the beautiful infant Bunyip River, then
climb steeply along a rough track back to Basans Corner (11.5 km)
The first track on the left (Hunters Road) winds downhill westerly through the dense
forest of Tomahawk Valley. After about 1 km the soft leafy road wanders through a
beautiful gully sheltered by tall Mountain Ash. The road then follows down close to
the creek course. After about 2 km a raw newly-made road leaves on the right, even
closer to the creek. Its purpose seems obvious, a logging road to exploit excellent
regrowth Ash timber downstream along the valley. Follow this road to see some of
this prime forest, then return to Hunters Road (14.5 km)
At about 15.5 km look for a track on the right leading to the top of the mossy
Tomahawk Falls. Return to road (16 km) At the point where Hunters Road first
reaches the SEC Transmission Line, follow the SEC Road north-west a few hundred
metres, then cross Tomahawk Creek. Immediately avoid a rough road uphill on the
right. Follow the left road winding uphill through excellent tall Ash timber to
Soldiers Road. Turn right, and follow that road to its junction with the Beenak Road
(18 km)
F.W.H.
5 July 1982
ONEDAYWALK
AT THE HEAD OF BLACKWOOD CREEK
Transport: Private, to and from the picnic ground situated at the north side of Powelltown Road on the western side of that town. Directly opposite the Powelltown
District Office of the Forests Commission.
Features: Logging roads and fire trails through large stands of mixed mountain forest,
Myrtle Beech groves and lovely fern gullies. Fine forests of Mountain Ash and
Shining Gum. Good stands of tall Silvertop Ash and Messmate growing on
steep, stony spurs. An enjoyable walk over some steep grades, with some good
views over forested ranges towards Mount Beenak and Hyde Hill.
Best Season: Spring and early Summer, particularly September when Silver Wattles
bloom freely.
Distance: 18 km.
Standard: Medium.
Map Reference: Neerim 1:50,000.
Water: The only streams crossed during the walk are the Little Yarra River and Tin
Mine Creek.
Walk through Powelltown and one kilometre east of Powelltown, Monett's Road
leaves on the left. Follow that earth road across the Little Yarra River, almost
immediately starting to climb north and east above the valley of Mackley's Creek. At
5.5 km pass the southern end of the old Blackwood Gully Track. Climb steeply up
through the forest on the north side of Tin Mine Creek. At 7 km join the much
wider Fitzpatrick Road. Continue north along the beautiful valley of Tin Mine Creek
passing the north end of Blackwood Gully track on the left, at 8.5 km reaching
Black Sands Road, a soft, earth road along the ridge between Hyde Creek and Blackwood Creek, pleasant walking indeed through a forest of straight Mountain Ash.
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At 11.5 km pass Airstrip Track leaving on the right, and shortly after, Sumner Spur
Road, also on the right. On this section, Black Sands Road passes through a fire
ravaged area, now replanted and showing vigourous regrowth of Mountain Ash and
Shining Gum.
About a further 1 km past Sumner Spur Road, look for Big Bertha Firetrailleaving
sharply back on the left (easterly). Follow this soft track and in a few hundred metres
avoid the track back on the left, continue down along the heavily timbered spur in a
generally southerly direction, first of all through tall Mountain Ash and Shining Gum;
later, on the steep dry slopes there are the dark, corrugated barks of tall Silvertop Ash
and shaggy Messmates, lit by the late sunshine of a September day.
Lower down at a signposted track junction, avoid the Big Bertha Firetrail westerly
straight ahead, turn left, and walk steeply down, fording the Little Yarra River at the
bottom. Shortly after, pass through a barrier and reach the Powelltown Road, Turn
right and return to the transport.
F.W.H.
9 February 1981
Crossing the Wonnangatta
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- Philip Larkin
ONE DAY WALK
AMONG TALL TIMBER OF THE MURRINDINDI
Transport: Private, to and from the junction of the Dindi Log Road and the Yellow
Dindi Road, situated 2.5 km north-east of Kalatha Camp, 7 km north of
Mount St Leonard.
Features: Easy walking along logging roads and fireline tracks through superb Mountain Ash forests, and above lovely ferny gullies. Good walking through the tall
Mountain Ash timber along the course of the Murrindindi River, north of
Siberia Bridge. There are wide views over the blue timbered ranges and valleys,
from Camms Survey road just north of the Narbethong Plantation.
Best Season: Spring and early Summer.
Distance: 18.5 km.
Standard: Medium.
Map Reference: Taggerty 1:50,000;Juliet 1:50,000.
Leaving the Dindi Log Road at the junction, follow the left road (Yellow Dindi Road)
south-east, in less than 1.5 km rounding the northern end of the Devil's Backbone,
where a rough track can be seen ascending a steep, rocky slope towards the south.
The forest of the Devil's Backbone area appears to have been badly burnt during a
recent fire. Continue easterly around curves along the Yellow Dindi Road, mostly
earth-surfaced, then winding south-east upwards along the beautiful timbered slopes
at the head of Yellow Dindi Creek, at 5.5 km reaching a junction with Camms Survey
road, Plantation Road and Black Range Road (G/R 616728) .
Turn right, and follow Camms Survey (earth road) south-west. In about 400 metres,
the track round the southern corner of the range (G/R 613725). From this point,
there are good views across the valleys of Stony and Crotty Creeks to the high blue
of the Great Dividing Range, with Plantation Road down below penetrating the
depths of Stony Creek. For the next few hundred metres, there are occasional good
views off to the south and south-west. During October, the dull golden glow of
Hickory Wattle in the distance signifies the crown of Wattle Path Spur, south of
Crotty Creek.
Follow Camms Survey through plantation growth of colourful eucalyptus around the
north side of Narbethong Plantation, reaching Siberia Gap (G/R 595715) at 8.5 km.
Cross Plantation Road and follow the 'To Crottys Creek Road' track south-east and
south through the outskirts of the plantation. Climb up through good Mountain Ash
forest, and after 1 km look for the giant Eucalyptus regnans tree situated just to the
left of the track (G/R 594706).lts approximate girth at one metre above ground level
is 14.21 metres, probably one of the largest trees still growing in Australia. In the
nearby bushland there are probably several others of similar size.
100 metres further on avoid the track leaving left or north-east along the range.
Continue southerly and east steeply down joining Crottys Creek Road at 11 km.
Turn sharply right and follow the earth road down through a verdant creek valley, to
reach Siberia Road traversing the valley of Beech Creek. Turn right, and walk north
to Siberia Bridge (14.5 km)
Follow the Dindi Log Road, keeping to the right (east) bank of the Murrindindi
River. Continue north along the river course through a dense forest of tall slender
Mountain Ash to the fmishing point at Yellow Dindi Road (18.5 km)
F.W.H.
28 October 1980
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