Old Cattle-race and C. J. Dennis

Nestled between the raucous bitumen riband of the six lanes of Geelong Road (Princes Freeway), the principal motorway between Melbourne and Geelong in the State of Victoria, and the brooding, towering bulk of the You Yangs Mountain Range, is the small town of Little River beside a River of the same name. Located 50 kilometres/32 miles from Melbourne it was first settled by Europeans in 1839. It is one of the oldest townships in the State. Today, it has a modest population of a few hundred: a General Store, Pub along with an assortment of old and new housing, schools, churches and community facilities, all in a neat unobtrusive package. Too, a gorgeous, circa 1876, Bluestone Railway Station is still in use today (though unmanned) with well over a dozen services stopping on the line between Melbourne and Geelong. Being relatively close to Melbourne, it is undergoing a slow revival with house prices to match. I believe Little River is one of the most beautiful and underrated locations near Melbourne. Add to this the gently flowing Little River itself, which rises some 30 kilometres/18 miles away in the Brisbane Ranges and passes through the town. This River is one of the cleanest Rivers flowing, (its mouth is on Port Phillip Bay). I have enjoyed many walks over the years following this River along its gentle course and enjoyed a swim in its chilly waters on more than one occasion in the midst of a baking summer's day.

I had chosen for a mid afternoon's walk a trundle from Little River to the nearby You Yangs Mountain Range, about 6 kilometres one way starting from the Railway Station along quiet and flat country roads. The day being cool, though calm and sun bathed offered ideal walking conditions. With a light pack and my pocket radio tuned to a Classical Music FM Radio Station, I was set for a few hours of contentment. My aim was to reach the base of the You Yangs and follow a familiar circuit track (that traverses the base of its highest mountain, Flinders Peak 352 metres/1,158 feet. This modest skyscraper is named after the English Explorer and Naval Navigator, Matthew Flinders RN (1774-1814), who during his survey of the southern Australian coastline in HMS Investigator, was the first European to climb the mountain together with three of his crewmen. Though the local Wathaurong Aborigines (of the Kulin Nation) had lived harmoniously in the area for tens of thousands of years and consider the You Yangs a spiritual (or sacred site).

The name You Yangs is an English kerfuddle of the indigenous words, 'wurdi youang' or by other accounts, 'udde youang', which roughly translates as 'a large mountain in the middle of a vast plain'. It is a series of distinctive granite rises being the remnants of a magma plug that rose up through surrounding sedimentary rocks in the Devonian period and later solidified. The rocks have been estimated to have a geological age of about 365 million years, almost as old as a meat pie I once had the misfortune to encounter. The Range extends in a north-south direction for 9 kilometres/6 miles with a lower extension of approximately 12 kilometres/8 miles turning away to the north-west. The You Yangs tower over the flat plains that sweep toward Melbourne and up to the encroach of Geelong. The Range can be clearly seen from all parts of Port Phillip Bay and most of Melbourne's inner and western suburbs. I have been visiting this area since I was a child, where my parents would regularly take us on Picnics. I have a rather strange memory of being viciously bitten by some rather irate Bullants that I apparently, as a four year old, provoked with a small twig out of curiosity. The event is still laughed about in my family to this day. I suppose I got what I asked for as you do not mess with Bullants! These little demons seem have an in built radar to find you (something to do with acute ability to detect scent, I gather). Or they may have a very good memory too, as I have been bitten innumerable times on Bush walks since.

Today the area of the You Yangs is a well looked after popular State Park covering most of the Range except for a part on the northern aspect which has been the home of the Ford Motor Company proving ground for many years. If you want to get a squiz at the latest model Ford, you could try your luck by sneaking into the proving grounds. But being cars and trucks why would you? I would be throwing mud pies at these wretched four-wheel clappers and letting their tyres down.

As I plodded west from Little River township under benign skies, I could hear the faint roar of the madness travelling along Geelong Road with its 180,000 vehicles a day traffic. Though the further I stepped westward the fainter the sound became before it surrendered to distance and some law of physics. As I neared the You Yangs, their imposing bulk loomed great (despite their moderate height). I spotted a magnificent Wedge-Tailed Eagle (Australia's largest land based Bird) soaring on the updrafts, its eyes searching the landscape for booty. I tried a few times to photograph this wonder of flight but it was beyond my camera's humble capabilities - I was crying out for a DSLR and a 300mm lens at this moment! Reaching the base of the You Yangs, I struck upon the track that would take me on a leisurely anti-clockwise circuit, gently climbing along the way with some rollicking dips and drops over and past huge boulders that dwarfed me. I was interested to see how the Park Authorities were dealing with the rapacious African Boneseed Plant (an introduced alien floral bandit) that over some decades had taken root to a vast extent on the slopes of the Range, causing misery to the natural order. Pleasingly, I could see much eradication had occurred with native flora beginning to reclaim the soil lost to this ugly, prickly plant. After completing the 6 kilometre/4 mile circuit I headed up the short but steep (though well stepped) climb to the highest point with the reward of elevating my heartbeat and a grandstand vista. It is a fabulous near 360 degree compass, where you can see all of Melbourne and its suburbs, Port Phillip Bay, Geelong, and away to the west the long eucalypt clothed fingers of the Brisbane Ranges. I ended up just lazing on a rock slab, shirt off, (it was still cool enough to keep the mossies away and no children were about that I would frighten them or their parents with the plod torso) soaking up the Sun. Over an hour or two I did some reading and listening to the sounds of the many Birds that frequent the Mountain Range. Unfortunately, mid afternoon beckoned and it was time to reluctantly descend. On the way down (or up) you are greeted with another fine vista of a massive Geoglyph depicting Bunjil, an Eagle like mythical creature that is important to the local Aborigines. With a wing span of 100 metres/320 feet laid out with over 1,500 tonnes of rocks, this rock sculpture (Geoglyph) was constructed by Australian Artist, Andrew Rogers in 2006. It is an impressive and astonishing sight, especially when viewed from a special viewing platform just off the pathway to the summit. Bunjil will be the subject of a future essay and photo alone and is worth a visit to the You Yangs just to see this spiritual artistry and to learn of its place in Aboriginal lore.

Leaving the slopes of the You Yangs and back again on the quiet road heading toward Little River, I chanced upon an old Cattle-race that seemed in pretty good nick and which forms my photography subject. The Cattle-race is a reminder of the days when the Australian Economy rode on the Sheep's (and Cattle's) back. This contributed in no small measure to enable this country for many decades to enjoy a very high standard of living. Fortunately, our mostly Merino Wool is still prized for its consistent quality. I confess a fondness for wearing wool based garments with cotton a near second - I eschew all artificial fibres - and make a point of wearing only Australian grown wool (or cotton) not so much from a sense of nationalism simply because I like the quality of the home made product better. The Cattle-race invoked a time in the Australian ethos where, notwithstanding the murder and displacement of the Indigenous custodians, when there was a uniquely Australian identity, tied to its Bush heartland. This identity had many flaws and contradictions, but these were mostly home-bred. Now, it has all but evapourated in this Global age, where cultural imperialism imposed by other countries, seems to swamp my country, not necessarily for the better. Of course, over 80% of the 21,000,000 plus Australians now live in the major coastal Cities (Perth, Adelaide, Hobart, Melbourne, Sydney, Brisbane and Darwin) and the link with the landscape is truncated. Whereas, at the end of the 19th Century, this population ratio was more in favour of country and country towns. Like most western Societies over 100 years ago, ours was indentured by back breaking labour and toughness to its land and its bounty. Australia, apart from the likes of Japan and some European Countries, is now one of the most urbanised populations of the World. As I photographed the Cattle-race it brought to my thoughts the Poetry to of A. B. (Banjo) Paterson (1864-1941), the laconic Henry Lawson (1867-1922) and of course the unique and treasured C. J. Dennis (1876-1938); the Poet of Australia that I love and cherish the most in our weakening lexicon . These voices are long gone and hardly known in the Australia of today. Ask a schoolchild here who C. J. Dennis was and you will probably get a response that he was some sort of American Rapper or a boyfriend of Paris Hilton. I recall, fondly, a poem dear to my heart by C. J. Dennis that I loved as a child when it was read to me by my Grandmother and the delight still remains: (try this aloud as it is real treat and a challenge as you will see). It messes with word and spell checkers wickedly!

THE TRIANTIWONTIGONGOLOPE

There's a very funny insect that you do not often spy,
And it isn't quite a spider, and it isn't quite a fly;
It is something like a beetle and a little like a bee,
But nothing like a woolly grub that climbs upon a tree.
Its name is quite a hard one, but you'll learn it soon, I hope.
So, try:
Tri-
Tri-anti-wonti-
Triantiwontigongolope!

It lives on weeds and wattle-gum, and has a funny face;
Its appetite is hearty, and its manners a disgrace.
When you first come upon it, it will give you quite a scare,
But when you look for it again you will find it isn't there.
And unless you call it softly it will stay away and mope.
So, try:
Tri-
Tri-anti-wonti-
Triantiwontigongolope!

It trembles if you tickle it or tread upon its toes;
It is not an early riser, but it has a snubbish nose.
If you sneer at it, or scold it, it will scuttle off in shame,
But it purrs and purrs quite proudly if you call it by its name
And offer it some sandwiches of sealing-wax and soap.
So, try:
Tri-
Tri-anti-wonti-
Triantiwontigongolope!

But of course you haven't seen it, and I truthfully confess
That I haven't seen it either, and I don't know its address.
For there isn't such an insect, though there really might have been
If the trees and grass were purple, and the sky was bottle green.
It is just a little joke of mine, which you'll forgive, I hope.
Oh, try!
Tri-
Tri-anti-wonti-
Triantiwontigongolope!

As I slowly walked with the declining Sun behind me that lit the farmscapes with a soothing yellow/golden hue and just a hint of an early evening frost, I was humming the C. J. Dennis poem aloud as if not a care in the world. I can only imagine what the occasional passing Motorist must have thought with me two stepping to the metric of the poem's rhythm and laughing. But here again is the beauty, of poetry, of plodding in a landscape albeit not much adrift of the hostility of a City yet still welcomes you. There is a grandeur in this beyond mere words, beyond measured value. I am glad, in this example, to be an Australian.