View from the ridge route between Millers Flat and Jay Creek (click for more)

The Larapinta Trail runs from Alice Springs to Mount Sonder though the West Macdonnell ranges and takes 15-20 days end to end. I wish we had that much time because it was a stunningly beautiful place to be. We walked for five days, starting at Standley Chasm and finishing in the town of Alice Springs. This covers sections 1, 2 and 3 of the trail. As we were only covering three sections we used John Chapman’s notes from ‘Hiking in Australia’ rather than the full Larapinta book or trail notes. Both the notes and the book are well produced and have good information on flora and faunas as well as the route and we will certainly be buying them when (not if) we return to complete the other sections.

Fish Hole (click for more)

We arrived in Alice Springs on Saturday and took a transfer from ‘Alice Wanderers’ out to Standley Chasm at 7 am Sunday morning. We had hoped to overnight at Miller’s flat, but as Fig Spring was dry we continued on to Jay creek (taking a high route over the ridge). This made day 1 the hardest day, both in elevation and distance. Coupled with packs full of five days of food, we arrived at Jay creek pretty spent. Luckily there were so many beautiful sights (Fish Hole! Rock Wallabies!) that our minds were distracted from the heat and weight of our packs.

The following days the temperatures soared far above the 21C-24C averages we had expected, reaching at least 33C and not dropping below 13C at night (we expected down to 0C). Every day we started earlier and earlier to beat the sun until on day five we rose 40 minutes before the sun and setting off and first light.

I can’t possibly describe the beauty of the trip in a way that could do it justice. Except for the crazy heat and subsequent thirst, everything was wonderful; the views, the trees, the terrain, the animals, the flowers, the incredible night sky and even the people we met en route (Hi Barbi and Thomas!).

Enjoy the photographs and the video. There is no question that it is hard; the heat, the lack of water, the remoteness and the terrain all contribute to this. But, if you ever get the chance, definitely do it anyway.

View from trails between Hotham and Dinner Plain (Click image for more)

Last week we spent four days in the Ovens Valley. This is a stunningly beautiful valley dominated by views of Mt. Buffalo and Feathertop. In summer you can canoe or swim in the Ovens river or climb the granite of Mt. Buffalo. The town of Bright is also popular place for paragliding. In winter you can access the downshill ski resorts of Mt. Hotham and Falls Creek as well as endless back-country terrain. I really want to live there.

There had been a fair amount of snowfall in the previous week and temperatures had stayed pretty low. The winds, however, were forecast to be high for all days and we were worried about how compacted and icy the downhill conditions would be.

Friday night was really, really cold and getting up, even in our little cabin in the valley on Saturday morning was a struggle. We ended up spending Saturday at Hotham (me boarding, Ross telemarking). The cover was packed and groomed but not icy until late in the day. Saturday night was cold and windy and only a little snow fell on the peaks. The high winds that had whipped us on the summit on Saturday were still raging, so we decided that it wasn’t worth the money and went up to Mt. Buffalo instead.

Mt. Buffalo is lower and the snow was heavier, wetter and there was much less of it. Its a beautiful place to be, though, so we packed up bread and a thermos of hot soup and set out on a long (about 4-5 hour) snowshoe around the plateaus and boulderfields and across to the viewpoints and waterfalls. Unfortunately, we were in cloud and didn’t get the good views!

Boulders on Mt. Buffalo

Monday, we were keen to walk out on the razorback towards Mt. Feathertop and board some of the slopes. We drove up there and the snow was deep and soft and neither icy or windpacked on the leeward slopes. The wind, however, was insane. When it gusted I could hardly stand up and an exposed ridgeline walk wasn’t that appealing. It was hard to tell how windy the valley was because there are few leaves on the snowgums, which are only starting to recover from the 2006 bushfires. After watching for some minutes, though, we could see that the wind was buffeting even the big old branches as was streaming though, leaving no place to shelter from the icy blasts.

Views around Hotham

Instead, we drove right into Hotham village, where most of the chairlifts were closed or on standby for the crazy winds. I rented cross-country skis ad we continued out of the village to the trails and ridges between Hotham and Dinner Plain. This ridge has more trees and is protected from the wind. It was definitely the right decision as the snow was good there, the views were excellent and we were mostly out of the wind.

The final day, the sun was shining, the forecast high temperatures were insane (17C in July!) and the winds were due to pick up even more in the afternoon. Although the mountaintops looked appealing bathed in sunlight, they were probably icy and we also had to drive almost 4 hours back to Melbourne. Instead of lengthening this with the mountain roads we headed over to Beechworth. I’d never seen the town, so it was fun to walk around and look at the elegant remains of goldrush times. Beechworth is famous for honey and, as we are about to become beekeepers, we spent some time looking at honey and equipment in the honey centre there. We then did a walk for a few hours in the Beechworth historic park, visiting the Powder Magazine, the Spring Creek Cascades, The Precipice, the Reids Creek Goldfields, and Ingrams Rock.

Spring Creek Cascades in Beechworth Historic Park

Beeripmo Walk - Raglan Falls (click for more)

Not that I’d ever refuse a long weekend, but the Queen’s birthday weekend is a little odd. First, I don’t understand why it merits a holiday at all, secondly, it comes at really annoying time – it is cold and wet but not cold and wet enough to snow. Strangely, it is also meant to be the official start of the Victorian ski season. There isn’t any snow and there rarely is (i.e. never) this early in the season. I’m sure that a long weekend in the months with snow (July, August, September) would give a welcome boost to those businesses and villages involved in snow tourism. And yet there are no long weekends  in Victoria from now until the start of November !!! I suppose that if, for you, skiing is all about bars and parties, it’s probably a good weekend to head for the hills for drunken bar games. For me, it is about white, empty mountains and wide turns in soft, deep snow. So, this long weekend becomes three days that are too cold to dive or kayak and too wet to climb. Luckily, walking is less weather dependent, though high winds, sleet and fog certainly make exposed routes more treacherous and also limit the possibility of good views.

Bearing in mind the wet and windy weather forecast, we opted for an easy two day walk, not too far from Melbourne, where the attractions are mostly forests, boulders and valleys, rather than stunning views. Located an hours drive west of Ballarat, just off the Western Highway, Mt Cole State Forest is 25 kilometres from the township of Beaufort. The Beeripmo Walk winds its way through Mt Cole State Forest as well as Mt Buangor State Park. The trail rises through tall, moist gatherings of blue gum with ferny undergrowth, through messmate stringybarks and bracken, to mountain woodlands, dominated by snow gum.

Misty morning fog at the Beeripmo camp (click for more)

Late Sunday morning, we climbed through a steep gully of tall eucalypts and shrubs growing amongst many large granite boulders, until we reached the cliffs of Raglan Falls, where we ate lunch. The track continued to climb to Cave Hill where the forest changed to a more open sub alpine vegetation. From here it is possible to see extensive views towards Mt Cole and the western plains and, as you reach the summit, the Grampians and Mt Langi Ghiran, but the clouds were closing in and our views were obscured. Instead we kept going up a densely forested ridge to the summit of The Sugarloaf and onwards down to the Beeripmo campground.

With some perseverance we managed a fire which kept us warm enough to stay outside past dark.  The campsite was mostly protected from the winds that showered us with large droplets from the canopy. Luckily, however, not much more rain fell and, though we were always within the cloud, did not get too wet.

The following morning we headed uphill to the summit of Mugwamp Hill, which, had it not been raining ,would have given views to the east of Mount Lonarch State Forest. At the base of the Mugwamp Hill we met the Mt. Buangor lookout sidetrack. This is 2km side-trip, which I’m sure is worthy in clear weather. It was raining consistently, if not heavily, so we continued down past Dawson Rock, through regrowth forest before joining and following LongGully where the trees became much taller. From here the trail descended to meets the Grevillea Track, which traversed steep gullies lined with large tree ferns and brought us back to the trailhead.

The carpark has a covered picnic area with a nice stone fireplace where someone had left a small fire burning. We had lunch in front of the fire before heading home to dry out our tent and clothes.

Grevillea Track (click for more)

Welcome to Hanging Rock

Hanging Rock, Victoria is most famous for the 1967 Joan Lindsay book, Picnic at Hanging Rock, which was adapted for film by Peter Weir in 1975. Since the autumn colours were in full display, I thought a trip to Mt. Macedon and a walk up Hanging Rock would make a pretty day trip with my parents who have been visiting from the UK.

my parents on the "trail"

on the summit

It really is a very pretty and interesting place. The rock is, well, pretty cool. But how comes it is okay to put up ugly signs, lay asphalt pathways right up to the rocks and insert railings and steps but it’s not okay to climb?

There are several ‘Hanging Rocks’ around the world:

1. Hanging Rock, New Zealand, where you CAN climb

2 Hanging Rock, Iowa, USA, where you CANNOT climb

3. Hanging Rock, North Carolina, USA, where you CANNOT climb

4. Hanging Rock, Victoria, Australia, where you CANNOT climb

Only one out of four is open for climbing. (Actually, there are even more, but most are not even rocky.) So, except in New Zealand, there seems to be some bad karma for climbers associated with the name …

Some excerpts from the management plan published by the (Victorian) Hanging Rock Reserve:

The Committee of Management, being an incorporated body, are covered from liability by the insurance cover of the D.C.& E. The threat of potential litigation should not be a reason therefore for banning climbing.

The Hanging Rock Reserve Committee of Management should, however, make it clear that it does not actively promote climbing at the rock …

All reasonable precaution must be taken to minimize any potential risk of an accident occurring. Signage at the entry to the rock should clearly state that climbing is a dangerous sport, and should also set out any regulations regarding the control of climbing.

It is recommended that climbing be regulated.

Climbers need to be precluded from areas where they may conflict with the public

Removal or replacement of existing bolts that are loose or dangerous should be carried out by an expert from a recognised climbing organization e.g. the Victorian Climbing Club with its own insurance cover, contracted on an annual basis by the Committee of Management.

No new bolting will be allowed without the authority of the Committee of Management

An informal hardened access path will be constructed as appropriate around the base of the rock for the length of the climbable area. The path shall be out of bounds to the general public, being closed off by a locked gate in the vegetation protection fence, but able to be accessed by climbers when they pay a deposit and collect a key from the kiosk.

After all this, the last line is somewhat hilarious:

It is hoped that this approach will overcome the need to heavily police and further regulate the sport.

The VCC have been in negotiations for eternity to allow access again and, I know, if I cared enough (and could avoid bonking the heads of idiots together), I could get involved with climber access issues.  There are, of course, many, many places were climbing is banned and/or heavily regulated for a variety of reasons, some good, some completely inane.  I wish I had the patience to deal with people, but I just want a quick fix for the world, where people stop thinking that they ‘own’ things like mountains, have ‘entitlement’ over other people and can, instead, learn to work together to preserve, manage and enjoy the beautiful environments that we have around us.

I recently read an eloquently put observation from Steph Davis for the deregulation of base-jumping in the US after experiencing the easy experiences of mountain culture in Switzerland:

“There is no fuss, no disagreement, no cry for outlawing of anything, no criticizing certain user groups as being different or “crazy” or risky, no exclusionary rules that cost time and money to enforce. The Swiss simply evaluate potential conflicts, propose a reasonable solution, and everyone moves forward. It’s all so… easy.”

views from the rocks

]]> http://nicolaoutdoors.com/entries/2009/05/28/free-hanging-rock/feed/ 0 http://nicolaoutdoors.com/entries/2009/04/15/crosscut-saw-and-the-terrible-hollow/ http://nicolaoutdoors.com/entries/2009/04/15/crosscut-saw-and-the-terrible-hollow/#comments Wed, 15 Apr 2009 03:51:44 +0000 nicola http://nicolaoutdoors.com/entries/?p=377

Views across the Terrible Hollow from the trail down from Catherine Saddle (Click image for more)

Early European explorers must have been a miserable lot. A 10km x 10km square of the Australian Alpine Region contains Mt Despair, Horrible Gap, the Terrible Hollow, the Devils Staircase and Mt Buggery. (Though, perhaps the latter was named for recreation after all the other trials and tribulations.) And, the ‘explorers’ didn’t even have to deal with blackberry, this introduced and invasive bramble being one of the more painful complications of walking off-trail in valleys.

Despite the name, this area holds great attractions. The mountains are steep, the valleys are wooded, the rocks are spectacular and the trails, where they exist, offer fabulous views. It’s a very rewarding place to walk.

The most popular circuit is a four day walk starting at View Point on the Howitt Road. From there you head north to Macalistair springs and out along the Crosscut Saw, up and over Mt Buggery, down through the Horrible Gap and up again to a high camp at Mt Speculation. The second day is a drop down to Catherine Saddle, up and over Mt Despair, past the Razor and down into camp at Viking Saddle. The third day takes you over the Viking and South Viking and down, down, down to the Wonnangatta River to camp before the final day climbs the Zeta track up, up, up the Wonangatta Spur and back to the trail head. The camps have springs for water and, at the end of a hot, dry summer, like this one (and most others), they may be dry and water very difficult to find.

We set out with this in mind, prepared to alter our route if the springs were dry. Setting out at 11am from View Point, it was a beautiful walk along the crosscut saw, the rain-clouds making a beautiful backdrop for the steep, rocky mountain peaks. We reached Mt Speculation at about 5pm and set up camp and watched lighting flash over the ranges around us. It rained in the night and we awoke to a moody, foggy mountain vista. Though we had found water at Macalister Springs and at Mt Speculation, we found Catherine Saddle to be dry and, using this as a ‘canary’, decided that the Viking Saddle would also be dry. We had the choice of returning to the Mt Speculation spring and loading up with another 3-4L of water each, or to alter our route.

We decided to descend into the Terrible Hollow where we would certainly find water at the Wonnangatta River. Neither of us were disappointed withe change of plan; I’ve had yen to camp in the Terrible Hollow for a while. It’s remote, deep, wooded and somehow… secretive. Plus, I love to visit the sites of fictional novels. The Terrible Hollow, Devils Staircase and Crosscut Saw are much, much more famous as Hell, Satan’s Steps and Tailor’s Stitch, respectively, in John Marsden’s ‘Tomorrow‘ series.

The route down from Catherine Saddle begins easily on a old, presumably logging, road. Pretty soon it is lost in vegetation and you have to navigate you way down to a point where the valley floor is wide enough to pitch a tent and the spur from Mt Speculation meets the river. We, um, lost the track, descended far too soon down a very, very steep slope and thick, brushy vegetation. We came down to the river at a steep angle, up against an equally steep slope on the opposite bank. We then traversed the opposing slope (the side of the ridge running down from Mt Speculation) for some time (it was marginally less brushy) and descended the ridge until we reached the point we wanted to be. We set up camp by the Wonangatta river and it was as different as you can imagine from the previous night on Mt Speculation.

The third day we pushed on through the Terrible Hollow, following the river and, in places, the barest remnants of a path, all the way to the base of the spur that descends from the South Viking. Here we spoke to some walkers we met who carried enough water for two days, who had camped at the Viking and confirmed there was no water. They also said that another group on the circuit had sustained an injury and had taken another spur to a four-wheel drive track in the hope of reach help sooner.

The fourth and final day was a long (1km elevation gain) ascent up forested slopes, with some time on a four-wheel drive track, eventually coming into long grasses beneath (burned) snowgums.

All in all it was an adventurous and varied trip, much more so than the ‘Viking Circuit’ as there is the contrast of the deep valley and high alpine. There really isn’t a trail through the Terrible Hollow any longer, however, and this makes for some remote and tough (but fun) walking (or scrambling). At least right now, water is much more available in the valleys than on the peaks, so it’s a good alternative option for a late summer or autumn circuit. And it certainly isn’t as awful as the name suggests!

The Razor and the Viking with the Terrible Hollow beneath, from Mt Buggery (Click image for more)

I went for a walk back up the track, to the last of Satan’s Steps. The sun had already warmed the great granite wall and I leaned against it with my eyes half shut, thinking about our hike, and the path and the man who’d built it, and this place called Hell. ‘Why did people call it Hell?’ I wondered. All those cliffs and rocks and vegetation, it did look wild. But wild wasn’t Hell. Wild was fascination, difficult, wonderful. No place was Hell, no place could be Hell. It’s the people calling it Hell, that’s the only thing that made it so. People just sticking names on places so that no one could see those places properly anymore. – ‘Tomorrow, When the War Began’, John Marsden (1995)

Springtime on the Razorback (click image for more)

It’s springtime and the snow is slurpee.
But it’s still better to be in the mountains!

Hinchinbrook Island (click image for more)

Location: Queensland coast halfway between Cairns and Townsville.

View Map

Access – By boat from Cardwell or Lucinda.
Description Australia’s largest island National Park. Almost entirely wilderness area. One trail along the east coast and small wilderness/eco lodge at the northern tip.

We had an inauspicious start to our trip. The longterm parking at Tullamarine was almost full and the Jetstar personnel were crazy zealots who wanted us to confiscate our (empty, clean, aired, wrapped in cloth) fuel bottles and pump, contrary to their own regulations. I can’t be bothered to recount the story now, but, after some very tense moments, we boarded the plane with all equipment required to live on a wilderness island. Qantas will be getting a very stern letter.

We arrived in Cairns, mid morning and took a Greyhound bus 3 hours South to Cardwell, a small, one taxi town with stunning views out to the mountains of Hinchinbrook. The next morning we were taken South to the even smaller ‘town’ of Lucinda to catch the ferry to Hinchinbrook. Finally we arrived at George point at a fabulous wide beach fringed by rainforest with mountains peeking up behind them.

The first day was a two hour beach walk including the crossing of Mulligan creek followed by a turn into beautiful forest, thick with vines and palms, ferns and epiphytes. A very short ascent and we were at the first campsite, Mulligan Falls in time for lunch. We ate on some large granite boulders in site of the falls. We watched fish in the clear waters of the pool and ulysses butterflies in the treetops and spied orchids growing on the tops of boulders. We set up camp, swum in the pool, re-warmed ourselves on the warm rocks and deeply relaxed :)

Day two we walked from Mulligan Falls to Zoe Bay, a steep ascent and descent of about 300m over a saddle. There were spectacular views from the top of Zoe falls down to the Zoe bay but no actual view from the high point as the vegetation was too high. The trees on the hills were entirely different and it seemed as if we were truly in the mountains with the rainforest a long way down. We also took a side trip (in rain) to Sunken reef bay and I speared my calf with the exceedingly fine and sharp laywer’s vine spines, which took some time to remove with tweezers. The camp at Zoe bay was in lush, dark mangrove forest, that opened up onto the beach with a beautiful, crocodile inhabited, lagoon. We saw a couple wading back out to their boat with their poor dog leashed as what seemed to be decoy bait!

Day three was a beautiful walk around the back of a large swampy (crocodile infested) area. Apparently the walk used to stay close to the coast as crossed the creek near the beach but crocs were seen, hence the diversion. I think it is a great addition as we skirted through mangrave and swamp, crossed rives that only flow in the wet seasons and also passed through some grasslands where we found different orchid species high in the trees. Ross lost his water after some more pesky lawyer’s vine rent a large hole in his water-bladder. After another climb up to a saddle we were at yet another series of pools where we restocked our water and had a short swim to clean up. We then descended to Banksia Bay, a small ba fringed wth low mangroves and another tidal lagoon. As the tide came in we saw rays and a baby sharks in the shallow waters on the estury.

Day four we walked back up to the main track from Banksia Bay and continued North across Little Ramsay Bay and Boulder Bay. At the latter we spied turtles in the water and a beautiful sea eagle. We also got our first really good views of Mt Bowen, the island high-point that we had not managed to obtain permits to climb. The top was lost in cloud and the granite sides and steep ridges, not to mention lack of trail made it seem high and dangerous. Still, I vow to return with the damn permit one day! We set up camp at Nina Bay then progressed onwards to make an ascent of the smaller Nina peak. From here we had fabulous views over the mangroves on the north west of the island as well as the bays that we had passed that day. We also had an even closer look at the peaks of the island’s interior.

Day five we packed up our camp for the last time and walked to the pick up point on Ramsay Bay, a 10km perfect beach with gentle waves. I guess gentle enough that crocs might still be present! The strip of mangrove behine the beach is very shallow and a few minutes walk brings you to the ends of the waterways of the north east. Our boat pulled into one of these waterways and transported us through the maze of mangroves and across the bay to Hinchinbrook lodge. Arriving at the lodge, complete with bag-carrying staff, toilets and showers seemed like a cultre shock. But a brief lunch in our beach cabin later and we were ready to play with kayaks on Orchid beach. Orchid beach has the best boulders I’ve seen in ages and many many orchids. It was the location set for the recent Jodie Foster movie Nim’s Island. Best of all, though are the many many turtles that play in the waters. They emerged just metre from our kayak and we got better photos that I would have thought possible.

The last day on Hinchinbrook we did a short walk through some rainforest, which was different again to the rest of the island. We saw orchids and a lace monitor, butterflies and all kinds of different trees. After lunch we were lucky to get on a boat out to the Brook Islands, which have magnificent fringing reefs. We snorkled with giant calms, turtles, a remora and all kinds of tropical fish. No photos of these though as we didn’t take our camera housings on this trip. Later that day we transferred back to Cardwell and ate a ‘famous Barra burger’. The following morning we took the return bust trip to Cairns. Having some time before our flight we watched the mudskippers on the mud flats, drank our first coffee in a week, researched various boats for a Barrier Reef dive trip in the future and perused the waterfront markets. Virgin Blue presented no troubles for our return trip and we were back home in bed by 1am.

Camping close to the Bluff Spur hut (click image for more)

This weekend was a SNOW weekend. And also my birthday-trip weekend (my birthday is on Monday).

We snowshoed overnight packs and snow toys 5km (and 0.5km of elevation) up Mount Stirling on Saturday afternoon. My pack was almost intolerably heavy… but It was gorgeously white and fluffy everywhere we looked :) We set up camp close to Bluff Spur Hut, which had a deliciously warm pot-bellied stove burning ferociously inside. I got a surprise when I opened my pack and found that my regular, tiny, summer sleeping pad had been replaced with my birthday present; a beefy four season pad! And so, after a cosy (well as cosy as a tent at -3C can be) night, we walked up to the summit to play on the slopes. Unfortunately, the cloud was fairly low and we didn’t take many pics up there, but the snow was deep and dry (if heavy) and we wore ourselves out having fun. We came back to the hut for lunch, packed up the tent and then, somewhat incredulously, I rode my board the whole 5km down the winding, narrow tracks with my weekend pack on! My thigh muscles were rock hard and my ankles were burning by the time we were back at the car. But it was worth it :)

Camp in Lerderderg Park (click image for more)

This weekend is the Queen’s birthday long weekend. It’s also the official start of the ski season for reasons I can’t really fathom since it doesn’t actually start snowing properly until late June or July.

Our first thought was to do a two day kayaking trip on the Murray River that we have been planning for a while but we unsure how cool it would be that far inland and also, since we are pretty busy at present, unwilling to travel that far and wind up more exhausted at the end of the weekend than the start. We settled on an overnight walk in Lerderderg State Park, a steep sided gorge with (mostly dry) river bed at the bottom. It only takes about an hour to get there from our house so we set off Sunday after breakfast and started walking late morning. Once inside the gorge we took a steep trail (several hundred metres of elevation) up to the ridge for wonderful views down into the gorge. The trail met up with a track built by the water authority to a weir that used (before the big dry, I guess) diver some of the water to the town. We followed the track down to the river, looked at the weir (dry on both sides) and the fish ladder (also dry) and then walked down-’river’ until we found a bend that still had water. We set up a nice campsite, built a fire and relaxed. Next morning we walked out the whole way along the river bed and got back to the start/end just after lunch.

Lake Eildon (click image for more)

I still can’t climb (yes, I’m having physio) and must also rest from repetitive upper arm movements, so no paddling either. We were pretty much down to diving or walking this weekend! For some reason diving didn’t appeal; I feel like I’ve been on and off fighting a cold for the last couple of weeks and cold and wet, along with unknown visibility & quality from the continuing dredging couldn’t entice me in. Probably just as well since hoiking heavy diving rigs on and off my back probably doesn’t fall into the rest category either :)

We decided on Lake Eildon National park since I have not been there and Ross hadn’t been there since a school camp (of which is strongest memory was breaking his nose by running into a classmate playing some-kind of running game in the woods near the lakeside).

Lake Eildon National Park is only a couple of hours from Melbourne (just beyond Cathedral ranges where we walked last spring). It is not a natural lake but was created, first as ‘Sugarloaf’ lake in the early 1920s when the Delatite river was dammed. Before that, the Delatite valley was inhabited by Yauung Illam Baluk aborigines who were driven out in the 1830s by European squatters who set up a few homesteads. In the 1850s gold was found and several mines operated until the 1880s when the land was farmed. To ensure water for irrigation and the small town the river was dammed and the ensuing lake became a popular boating and vacation spot. A much higher dam was constructed in the 1950s, flooding a huge area and covering several homesteads. It seems that year was particularly wet and the lake filled rapidly to a high level. Since then, though with a few fluctuations in wetter years, the water levels have been going down due to drought and the privatization of the state water supplies. Today, the lake is less than 10% full and the boating and tourist industries that thrived at the lake edge have been left high and dry. Literally. The current state government thinks it can solve Melbourne’s water problems by building a pipeline from the Goldburn, which feeds Lake Eildon, to this side of the dividing range. I think they must be hoping that nobody from here will go to look at how very little there is to that promise …

We drove up Saturday morning, had lunch and walked up a steep track to one of the ridges. The forest is nice and open to walk through, though thick enough to prevent any spectacular views. We set up camp and a campfire and read books until night fall when we cooked a spectacular curry to eat with roti, heated on the fire grate.

Next day, we thought we would check out the boating area close to where we camped since, in season, houseboating and fishing is very popular, though not as popular as when the lake was actually full. The road down to the area is actually the old boat ramp. But now there are a few hundred metres of dry mud slope before the useable boat ramp… The high-water edge was visible high above us.

We then headed north into another part of the park, where Ross had had his school camp. The visitor centre is not open at this time of year so we picked an area and hoped to pick up a track to the lakeside. We found a track but after a few metres we decided it wasn’t heading in the right direction. The vegetation was pretty light (kind of) so we decided to walk straight through it to the lake. We walked and walked, pushing branches and small trees aside. Eventually we came to a dry creek and jumped down into it, thinking that it would open up to the lake. It did, kind of. the lake here must have been shallow because the water has receded a long, long way since Ross’s junior camp.

We walked for quite a while across the old lake bed, disturbing groups of lazy grey kangaroos. Eventually we came to some large dead trees, fences and building remains. Without a map or guide (and without having followed a track) it is hard to be certain but we think that we were in the old Merlo (or Coller) Homestead. This was covered by the lake when the 1950s dam became operational but is now dry again, revealed by years and years of drought …

The largest of the area’s goldmines was the Solferino Mine operated by John Merlo and Co. between 1868 and 1881. He stayed in the area and built a homestead called Glen Hope. In 1924 this was sold to the Coller family who farmed there until the land was claimed for the reservoir in 1952. The arm that covered the homestead is known as Coller Bay. The homestead was covered until a dry spell in 1968 uncovered some of the roofs. Again in 1983 there are reports of boats and jet-skis touring the flooded and fragile buildings. The farm was covered again for a couple of years but since 2002 they have been visible with the lake receding further and further from them. Now they stand on dry land with small trees growing through them and grey kangaroos lazing in the mussel shell strewn paddocks and sheep pens …