.... of Mountain Men, Moviemakers and Bushrangers - Part III


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Oceania » Australia » Victoria » Mansfield
May 24th 2014
Published: May 25th 2014
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We had decided that we would go up to Mt. Buller today which is about 60 km from Mansfield.

The road is tar-sealed all the way as we passed through rich, pastoral grazing land which, is very dry at the moment as there has been no rain for the last few months so, everything is looking very dry and brown but, good rain over the last couple of days, should help green things up somewhat.

It only took us about an hour to get there, arriving around 11-30am and, as we wound our way around and up the mountain and, the further and higher we went, the more dense the cloud, mist and fog became until, once right at the top, it was a complete whiteout with a stiff, cold breeze blowing and you could see diddly-squat! The temperature showing on the village clock said 7 deg!

Even though we were nearing the end of summer and with the ski season still several months away, with a little imagination when you looked around, it was quite easy to visualise what the ski resort would look like in the middle of the season – minus the snow of course! The visual effect was quite enchanting.

We had a bit of a drive around the village, imagining how it would be transformed when it was in full swing with an influx of skiers in the middle of winter. Today, it was a bit like a ghost town with hardly anyone else around besides the four of us – a couple of workmen here and there and, with the fog and low cloud giving the village a somewhat eerie feel.

One interesting thing we did come across was a sculpture I guess you would call it, of a collection of hundreds of old, colourful, skis stuck into the ground at varying lengths. There was a collection of three groups of these with a plaque at the bottom with the name “Emergence”. Guess the sculpture was done by a sculptress by the name of Deborah Redman as that was the name also on the plaque. Anyway, whatever the story behind it, it was very effective and looked really good.

Nothing much to see because of the low cloud so, we turned around and came down the mountain again towards Mansfield, turning left a few k’s out, towards Jamieson, a small village about 40 k’s away, down the other end of Lake Eildon.

By now, it was about 1pm and, we were looking for somewhere to have lunch so thought that we would get something in Jamieson but, once we were there, picturesque as it was, and apart from the pub, there really was nowhere else.

We had seen a sign and a turnoff to the brewery down there that also has a pub with a bistro so, thought we would go and see what it had to offer but, there again, when Ted went in to check it out, we would have been the only ones there and the prices were quite outrageous so, decided we would return to Mansfield and have lunch at “The Witches Brew” which, has become one of our favourite eateries.

We had to pick up a couple of things at the supermarket afterwards, including some more water that we use for our tea as it is all bore water at the resort which gives our tea a bit of a salty taste.

A little while to relax for what was left of the afternoon before we had to think about dinner. We had been wanting to have a barbecue since our arrival but, with the turn in the weather the last day or so, had to have a back-up plan ready just in case the weather had other ideas.

We had been dodging rain showers all day whilst we had been out and about but now, the weather seemed to be holding so, we decided to put the barbecue (which was just a little way down in the grounds from our bungalow), to good use. It had turned out to be quite a lovely afternoon after the wind dropped and the sun came out for awhile.

Great idea but, then we had to figure out whether the barbecue was lit by ignition or by the old-fashioned method of having to strike a match to ignite the gas.

After a bit of investigation, decided that we needed some matches which then posed another issue. Seeing that none of us smoke, we didn’t have either matches or cigarette lighter to hand so, the hunt was on to get hold of some matches.

Remembering that there is always an emergency lighting kit – torch/flashlight, candles, matches etc - somewhere in these rented properties, the hunt was on to find their location in our bungalow.

We scoured every cupboard and wardrobe that we could find, with no success until Ted went to ask Mr-& Mrs-Next-Door, if they had any idea of where they might be kept. Luckily for us, they had visited the resort before, and told him that the emergency candles and matches were kept in the cupboard up above the alcove where the fridge lived.

This was the only cupboard we hadn’t looked in as it was taller than any of the rest of us which then required one of us to climb up on one of the kitchen chairs, to be able to reach the cupboard.

This event yielded positive results and our problem of lighting the barbecue was solved. We didn’t need the candles but did make good use of the matches.

After this little exercise, my only thought was that, in the case of an emergency or blackout etc, I don’t think I would like to be having to climb up on a chair in the dark to be able to get my hands on the emergency lighting paraphernalia.

Whilst the men of the house did the bloke thing of manning the barbecue, Bonny and I saw to the rest of the dinner preparations, making the salad, etc.

We were going to eat inside but, when the afternoon turned out so nice, Bon and I moved everything out onto the table on the balcony.

We had just finished getting everything organised when, we had a couple of visitors come and land on our balcony railing in the form of two white cockatoos who came to check things out. Probably came to eye-off what they may be able to get their beaks into on our dinner table so, the salad and other edibles were hastily brought back inside again until it was time to eat.

There is an abundance of wildlife here – magpies, white cockatoos, ducks on the lake, the occasional pelican and quite a lot of kangaroos. It’s lovely to hear the magpies carolling away early each morning when they wake us with their melodious singing. Much rather that than the raucous screeching of the noisy cockatoos we get at dawn some mornings. Definitely not my favourite birds.

Dinner finally cooked (the barbecue wasn’t the quickest we’ve seen) and, just sitting down to eat when a rather cold, brisk wind sprung up again which really heralded a bit of a squall and some light rain showers but, at least they held off until we had finished eating around 8pm.

Tomorrow, off to Glenrowan ……





Today was to be a day full of surprises.

Leaving the resort at 10-45 am with Ted at the wheel to give Glenn a break from driving, we planned to go to Glenrowan about 90kms away. It has been many years since any of us have been there so, felt it was time to go back and re-visit the town where Ned’s reign finally came to an end.

It only took us about an hour to get there and, after a pit stop, thought we would begin our Ned Kelly experience at the site of the infamous siege where Ned Kelly was finally captured after yet another shoot-out with police.

The site of the siege is right in the middle of town so, you don’t have to go miles away to see it. As a comparison, the infamous Gunfight at the OK Corral that we have heard so much about in western movies and American gunfighter folklore, lasted a total period of 3 minutes. The siege of Ned and his gang at Glenrowan, lasted a staggering 12 hours.

The trail is well marked out in seven sites over the area where the siege took place, which probably only covers about 2 acres in actual land area.

With the Kelly Gang holed up in the Glenrowan Inn, awaiting the arrival of the police by train from Beechworth (where we had been yesterday) where Dan Kelly and Joe Byrne had just killed other Kelly Gang member and police informer, Aaron Sherritt, they had removed part of the train track just outside Glenrowan in an attempt to derail the train when it arrived.

Their plan was that the derailment would kill the troopers and police blacktrackers on board when they came after the Gang in the aftermath of the murder of Sherritt. However, their plans went awry, when instead, the Special Police Train came many hours later from Melbourne, in the opposite direction so, no derailment occurred and the police arrived, very much alive.

We followed the first three sites then, came to the blacksmith’s shop where we had a bit of a look around and began chatting to the smithy there.

He told us some of the history about Ned and how he still makes replicas of Ned's armour for various people and reasons. Ned and his gang's armour was made from the mouldboards of farming ploughs so, you can imagine how heavy it was just to stand up in, let alone to walk around. Each "suit" weighed around 97 pounds. The smithy then asked us if we had been to see where Ned is now buried.

Afterwards, we planned on making a visit there after we had finished our visit to Glenrowan so, continued along the site of the siege route before making our way to Greta, a local cemetery not far from town.

We headed off out of town towards the cemetery where Ned is now buried and, got close to where we needed to go but, being on narrow, country dirt roads with limited sign-posting, just couldn’t seem to find how to get there even with the help of the map that we had.

We drove around a bit, down this road and that until, we thought we had almost found where we had to go. We knew we were close but, just couldn’t quite find our way when we saw a local farmer driving towards us in his ute so, flagged him down to ask for directions.

Glenn got out to talk to him and as it turned out, we were only about short distance from the turnoff to the cemetery. They chatted for a minute or so then, the next thing we knew, he told us to follow him about a mile down the road where he would stop and give us further directions.

Following along behind him, we continued for a short distance until he pulled over to the side of the road and got out so, we pulled in behind him.

In true country style, we stood chatting by the side of the road for about 20 minutes while we talked about Ned and what the times must have been like back then.

Our benefactor knew a lot about the local history, families and folklore as well as how to find the cemetery. However, we did become a bit concerned when he told us that Ned’s grave was unmarked so, unless you knew where to look, you would never find it. Thankfully, from the information he gave us, we were able to do this.

After the siege and Ned’s ultimate capture in Glenrowan, he was committed for trial in Melbourne and went to the gallows in Old Melbourne Gaol on 11 November, 1880.

Ned’s remains are only a fairly recent burial in Greta (just over 12 months) when, after his hanging in Old Melbourne Gaol back in 1880, his remains were then buried in the grounds of the prison.

For some reason, years later, they were exhumed and re-buried in an unmarked grave in Pentridge Prison in Melbourne along with 24 other prisoners, where he lay until recent times.

His remains are headless for, after his capture in Glenrowan and subsequent hanging in Old Melbourne Gaol, his head was removed, a death-mask made (as was a common practice in those days for notorious convicted felons) and sent back to England. The whereabouts of his head still remains a mystery.

A couple of years ago, a headless skeleton was discovered in the grounds of Pentridge and, opinion was strong that they were those of Ned Kelly. After many months of forensic and DNA investigation, it was proven that it was indeed, Ned.

After the positive identification, it was decided that his remains should be returned to the Kelly family for proper burial in a place of their choosing.

When Greta cemetery was agreed upon to be his final resting place, this brought closure for the Kelly family many of whom still live in the area today and, fulfilled Ned’s dying wish to be buried in his own locality.

On 20 January, 2013, 132 years after his hanging in Old Melbourne Gaol, Ned was returned to his homeland to be laid to rest in his own beloved Kelly Country in this north-eastern part of Victoria, which he loved so dearly. This young man was only 25 years old when he went to the gallows with his immortal last words of, “Ah, so it has come to this” or, “Such is life” – whichever version you wish to believe. (There again, there is some confusion as to which ones he actually uttered)

Ned also finally got his dying wish of being buried close to other members of his family, with his mother Ellen, sisters, Margaret, Grace and Anne and brothers, James (Jim) and Daniel (Dan) buried close by.

His cousin, (Peter) Tom Lloyd is also buried in Greta Cemetery and, is the only one of the whole Kelly Gang who lies in a marked grave. For the most part, Tom Lloyd didn’t really take an active part in any of the Kelly Gang’s exploits and robberies but, would often be the one, in the background, holding the horses, etc. He died in 1927 at the age of 72.

It seems such a pity that, after being exhumed twice and buried three times, and moved all over the state, Ned still lies in an unmarked grave. Public opinion remains divided on what should be the correct course of action to be taken with such an historical figure.

Should he lie in a marked grave so that the public can visit his final resting place to pay their respects or to reflect or, should it remain unmarked to keep sightseers or perhaps looters away (even though his coffin is encased in concrete to prevent this from happening)? Or, should his grave remain unmarked as a private interment out of respect for the Kelly family? There again, I guess it comes back to personal opinion.

Much has been written about Ned and the Kelly Gang - more than any other group of Australian historical figures. Like most aspects of folk-lore, some of it is fact, some of it is fiction. Many learned people have spent their entire lives in documenting the life if this young man and the circumstances leading to his demise and still continue to do so to this day.

I guess it is up to the individual to try and decide from their own research and investigation before coming to their own conclusions as to what they want to believe. Much of what has been written is historical fact. Alternatively, some of the accounts of the actual events that took place back then, can be somewhat muddled, having been taken from supposed personal accounts of witnesses of those events that occurred at the time. A lot of that information can be conflicting and confusing as to what actually did take place.

Nonetheless, Ned and the Kelly Gang will always remain an important part of Australian history.

After our visit to the cemetery, we headed back into town for we wanted to go to the theatre in the main street of Glenrowan to watch “Ned Kelly’s Last Stand”, an animated show about the siege and his capture, which goes for 40 minutes every half hour. This audio with animated and hologram figures enacting the siege, is well worth a visit as it re-enacts the actual events that took place on that fateful day of Monday, 28th June, 1880.

We had so enjoyed our day in and around Glenrowan with the highlight for us, being able to visit Ned’s final resting place. We had never imagined that we could be so privileged to be able to do so. This really had been, a very special day.



EPILOGUE:

Our week in Mansfield was now quickly drawing to a close and we still had one place that we especially wanted to visit and that was to see the iconic “Craig’s Hut” of “The Man From Snowy River” movie fame.

“Craig’s Hut”, so named after the main character of the movie, Jim Craig, it featured in the movie as Jim’s mountain home. It has become an Australian icon since the movie was released back in the ‘80’s and people now come from all over the world just to see it and marvel at the stunning mountain views that surround it on all sides.

Cattleman’s huts are still a feature of this rugged part of the High Country of the Australian Alps. They have saved many a life of, not only the cattlemen themselves, but also hikers, bushwalkers and skiers who have been caught in snowstorms, blizzards and freezing conditions in the Alps.

The hut is not the original built for the movie. That was built in 1981 and, after the movie, sat there, disused, for a number of years at the mercy of the weather. The heat of the summer, wind, rain and covered in heavy snow for 3-4 months every year. The weather taking its toll, the hut gradually fell into disrepair.

It was rebuilt in 1993 and survived until 2006, when it was burnt down in the devastating Northern Victorian bushfires that swept through the High Country. Finally being rebuilt again in 2007/2008 in a combined effort of the Mansfield 4WD club and community effort, the hut now stands as we see it today.

We had made several enquiries as to what the road conditions were like up to Mt. Stirling (1,742 metres) to be able to get there and if it was accessible by 2WD vehicle. Some said it was, others said that the last 1.7 kms was walking only or by 4WD.

With this knowledge in hand, we headed off to, at least, see how far we could go. Maybe we would be lucky.

We left home at 10-50am in brilliant sunshine and a beautifully clear day. It only took us about an hour and a bit to get there. We didn’t really expect to be able to get right up to Craig’s Hut as, the last 1.7 kms, is marked as 4WD only. Anyway, we set off, with the intention of getting as far as we could in Glenn’s 2WD Toyota Camry.

From Mansfield, you take the Mt. Buller Road but, turn off 14k’s this side, onto a gravel road. The Mt. Buller road is tar-sealed all the way. The Mt. Stirling road is a gravel road which is quite good and easy to travel on if you just take your time.

The drive up, after leaving the main road, was twisty and windy, climbing all the time as we wound our way around the mountain through heavily timbered eucalypt forest.

Great excitement a little way into our drive, when Glenn spotted a lyrebird, running across the road in front of us, disappearing into the bush on the other side. You so rarely get to see them in the wild as they are very timid and shy birds, so usually keep to quiet locations in the bush. They are also the bush’s greatest mimic, often imitating the calls of a variety of other birds, making it very difficult for you to determine the real thing when walking through the bush.

We finally came to the turnoff for “Craig’s Hut” with the 4WD symbol on the post. We looked at the road in front of us which didn’t look too bad and we debated whether to keep going or not.

We set off, taking things very easy as the road was quite steep with high ridges in places and, not really suitable for 2WD but, we crept on.

I knew that Glenn wouldn’t attempt it if he didn’t think we could make it and also knew that his many years of driving rough outback roads in Qld in his wool classing days, would come in handy and also give him the experience and knowledge to be able to navigate the rough road if he thought he could do it. I also knew that he wouldn’t take any risks.

We bottomed out numerous times on the mostly soft, sandy track but, had to be really careful of any rocky outcrops by dodging those and crawling over the humps and bumps at a snail’s pace, sometimes just slowly rolling over them. The scraping sound coming from underneath made it seem worse than it was but, the main thing was to be patient and go slowly.

1.7 kms seemed like forever but, finally, we rounded the last bend and, there was “Craig’s Hut”, right in front of us, sitting up on the grassy level clearing on top of the mountain, sitting humbly on the top of the world.

There were a number of other people there, some workmen, some others picnicking and, all of them in one of the half dozen 4WD’s of some description, that were parked there. You could see the incredulous looks on the faces of all of them, when we pulled into the car parking area in our 2WD. We did get some bemused looks and several big grins and a couple of,“well done’s”.

We walked the short distance from there up to the hut itself, perched in an open clearing with spectacular 360 deg views for miles around over the surrounding mountain ranges. What a sight and the stunning panoramic views, just took your breath away.

We could have been standing on the movie set of “The Man From Snowy River”, itself. It was exactly the same as a scene from the movie.

“The Man From Snowy River” is a work of fiction, adapted from the poem of the same name by famous Australian poet, Andrew Barton (Banjo) Patterson, just as “Craig’s Hut” is not typical of a high country mountain hut the cattleman in years gone by would have built.

This one is much bigger and more substantial than any of those would have been but, they do epitomise the lifestyle of high country cattlemen and the conditions they would have had to endure in the unpredictable mountain conditions in those days. They often constructed mountain huts as a refuge in inhospitable weather conditions and, these basic huts, dotted throughout the high country have, then and now, saved many a human life, whether they be cattlemen or modern-day skiers, caught in adverse weather.

We spent about ¾ of an hour just wandering around, taking photos and reading the stories about high country cattlemen and a bit about the making of the movie.

Back down in the car park we were the topic of conversation as we prepared to leave and got talking to some of the other people there, they asked how we had managed to get up on the Circuit Road in our 2WD. How had we found it? They were genuinely interested as to how we had done it.

Guess we will remain a topic of conversation for some time to come for some of them. “Remember the day we saw those people come up in their Toyota Camry?” We can hear them now. However, we do have to say – that we wouldn’t recommend it. We were very lucky not to have suffered any adverse damage.

We left there around 1-25pm to head back home and seemed to get back down the 1.7km stretch, quicker than we went up. The added bonus was that it was all downhill which made it easier to negotiate because you could see where you were going.

Once back on the “main” gravel road, we stopped to give the car a bit of a check over, just in case, and, within a couple of minutes, a couple of the 4WD people, coming along behind us, stopped to ask if we were okay, which was nice of them.

Headed straight for home with a stop half-way down the mountain to get a long-range photo of Mt. Buller village in the distance on the opposite mountain which was as clear as a bell today, unlike the other day when we went up there and it was a complete whiteout as we were up in the clouds.

We had fulfilled a dream today or, at least a lifetime ambition anyway ….


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