As I start this, my dear husband is lying prone on the bed resting after having spent the day negotiating over a couple of hundred kilometres of narrow winding road. Soon he will wake and cook dinner, as he usually does and then hopefully be alert enough to enjoy the Paris-Roubaix Cycle Race that will go well into the night. And so I am being as quiet as I can be to allow such well-deserved rest.
We have had an absolutely marvellous day, having woken to much improved weather as promised by the weather forecast. It was so cold this morning; we were reminded of the freezing temperatures this time last year when we were heading through the Blue Mountains west of Sydney. Here it is again, on schedule albeit some hundreds of kilometres further south.
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| A view over La Trobe Valley's chimneys |
Today we set off on Route 91, mentioned several times in both our travel bibles and the tourist brochures, as being one of the must-dos when in the Latrobe Valley. The road headed north past our camp of the other night, through farmland to Tyers and then on up through beautiful forest lined road toward Walhalla. Just north of Tyers, we pulled into a lookout from where we enjoyed panoramic views of the Latrobe City and beyond, chimneys of the four power stations and one pulp mill standing proudly in the landscape; three belching out steam. Once the road turned north east, it narrowed and wound itself down into the Thomson River Valley. There we stopped at the railway station where a tourist train runs three days a week from Walhalla. The railway opened in 1910 but was never a success, closing in 1944. The line was torn up but then much more recently, rail enthusiasts restored the line and now operate the trains to delight themselves and of course the tourists, which serves to justify all the hard work.
Here at this lower station, the Stringers Creek meets the Thomson River; we wound our way up the gorge until we came upon the delightful heritage village of Walhalla.
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| Walhalla fire station |
From 1863 through to 1914, Walhalla was a booming gold mining town with a population of over 3,000 people. There were ten hotels, seven churches, several dance halls, a school and over thirty shops. Of course we have come upon so many places with this kind of story, but Walhalla charmed us more than many because of the geographical nature of the township. The buildings lie snuggly in the narrow gorge, some higher up peeping out from the dense bush. Space was so precious that even the fire station was built straddling the Creek. Old photos show that those perched on the hill were once just part of the town with no large spaces between; now forest has taken up all those abandoned areas. These days there are apparently only about twenty folk who live permanently in the village, but today there were hundreds all about. The camp site up the northern end of the town was chocker with tents and those who had arrived too late had erected their tents on every available patch of grass on the side of the road the length of the township. The lodges, cottages, B&Bs and hotels had no vacancies, and even when we arrived about 10am, there were dozens of day trippers such as ourselves parked up in every available space. We walked the length of the town and up and along the track from where we could see the remnants of the workings and down over the residential and business area. When we returned to the land cruiser, the car parks were even busier and the modest cafes quickly filling with latte lovers and muffin munchers.
These few remaining permanent residents entertain and serve the 80,000 visitors Walhalla attracts each year. Not only are there the normal cafes, bars and craft shops, but ghost tours, mine tours, walking tours, and the provision of a great variety of accommodation.
The track above the town is in fact the beginning of the 650 kilometre Australian Alps Walking Track which we encountered as it passes through the alpine area south of Bright. What an amazing walk that would be to do, however with parts of the track not clearly marked and enough warnings about the difficulty and danger, Chris and I decided we should probably give it a miss.
There were some excellent interpretive panels in the fire station, including a time line of fire events over the centuries. Such dreadful accounts of bush fires cause one to think this would be a very dangerous part of the world to live, even today, still relatively remote and totally surrounded in the forests of the Baw Baw National Park.
We were also amused to find that the Walhalla Cricket Ground is situated 200 metres above the street level of the town, flat land being at such a premium. The path up the side of the hill is a mere kilometre and takes spectators and players alike a full forty five minutes to walk to.
Soon after 11 am, we set off once again, this time heading back to the road to Rawson. This tidy little town of Rawson, was established in just 1979 to house and serve the workers who constructed the Thomson Damn completed in 1983. Nowadays it has a population of about three hundred and acts as one of the gateways to the Baw Baw National Park.
We took the South Face Road northwest of Rawson, showing as being under construction on our map. It has in fact been open for about four years although seems older with the regenerated plant life well established. The first half of the road is a relatively well maintained gravel affair with few corrugations but after crossing the western branch of the Tyers River, it deteriorated to a gravel track. This caused no problem for us in our four wheel drive however we did catch mutterings on the CB radio from other motorists.
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| Trails through snow gums on Mt Baw Baw |
When the road emerged on to seal, we turned north and drove on up the very steep road through mountain ash to the Baw Baw Alpine Village. Mt Baw Baw is just 1,563 metres above sea level, somewhat less than the other alpine peaks in Victoria we have visited over the past month or so. Today it was very cold; my five layers plus anorak did little to keep the cold temperatures out. There were many day visitors, it being Easter Sunday, and we all parked outside the Resort gate in the free car park and wandered around the spaces inside all suggesting the activity to come after the first snowfalls. There are many club lodges, a couple of café/bars, lifts half covered with tarpaulins but other than that, little but the snow gums and open paths inviting walks. We wandered through the gums, all far more healthy and vigorous than those seen at Mt Buffalo or on Mt Hotham, and tried unsuccessfully to imagine it all snowbound crowded with skiers.
We had originally intended to return to the Route 91 tour, which would have taken us back to Rawson and perhaps up to the Thomson Dam, however on perusing the map, we decided on an entirely different route. Instead we came down off the mountain and headed west to Tanjil Bren, a thriving mill town from the 1930s through to the early 1950s. Now there are apparently just nine permanent residents, although more houses than that, some probably accommodation for skiers and the like during The Season. Like Walhalla, Tanjil Bren has been victim to many severe fires, which again came as no surprise, with the mountain ash all about.
The road continued on through the mountain ash, a narrow twisting very beautiful road, taking us on down from the heights. We turned back south east soon after Icy Creek, and came through more lovely forest until we emerged into stunning dairy farmed hill country which continued all the way on down to the base of the Latrobe Valley where we reached Moe. There we turned east and came on home along the Princes Highway without further event.
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