Murrindindi River Reccy

I made the run up to the Murrindindi on my own to have a proper look at the river and the country around it. There was no big walk planned and no real distance in mind. It was more a matter of seeing how the track followed the water, where the river could be reached easily and whether the place had enough about it to be worth coming back to for a longer day.

The road into the reserve gives little looks at the river before it properly shows itself. A shallow run appears through the gum trees and then disappears behind scrub. Further on there is a darker bend under the riverbank where the water slows and the leaf litter has stained it brown. Around the campgrounds the country feels fairly open and easy. The river is close by and the walking is simple enough, but it does not take long for the track to move away from that managed feel and start dropping in and out of colder gullies.

The first proper change came where the open bush gave way to a damp gully. Peppermint and messmate stood higher on the drier slope with rough bark and long strips lying across the track. Lower down the air cooled and the tree ferns took over. The smaller ferns ran down toward the water and the fallen branches were soft with moss. The soil stayed dark underfoot and the river could be heard below before it was visible through the scrub.

One small pool sat below a run of broken rock with fern pressed hard into the far riverbank. The current entered quickly and then slowed under a leaning gum tree before slipping away through a narrow line of rocks. Nothing much happened there but it felt like a place worth remembering. Those little corners were the most useful part of the reccy because they showed more about the river than the easy sections near the campgrounds.

The birdlife was steady through the morning rather than spectacular all at once. Crimson rosellas crossed high through the bush and grey fantails followed the track in loose loops behind me. White-browed scrubwrens fussed in the low scrub near the ferns and made the whole gully feel busy without becoming loud. Superb fairy-wrens moved through the scrub beside the river with quick nervous hops between the stems. The brown birds vanished almost at once in the cover. The blue male appeared only briefly and then dropped back into the scrub.

At one crossing the river widened into a shallow sheet over flat rock. The water was clear enough to show every mark in the rock. Ferns crowded the shaded side and the exposed side had the dry litter of peppermint and stringybark. The track rose again after that and the sound changed underfoot. Dry bark cracked across the path and loose leaves moved around the roots of the stringybarks. The river kept running below but the trees had taken it from view.

The manna gums were easiest to pick near the river where their pale limbs showed through the darker trunks around them. Some had dropped long curls of bark beside the track. Others leaned over the water and held the riverbank with exposed roots. Higher on the drier ground the messmate stringybarks gave the open bush a harder look with their rough dark bark and long strips across the ground. The shade under them was thinner and the wet smell of the gullies had gone.

Later in the afternoon a yellow-tailed black-cockatoo crossed above the river. It moved slowly across the gully on heavy wings and gave that long creaking call that always seems to come from somewhere older than the rest of the bush. It disappeared toward the higher trees and the river noise filled the gap again.

I kept stopping to check the smaller access points along the river. Some were easy enough with gravel underfoot and a clear way down through the trees. Others were a mess of blackberry and soft riverbank and would not be worth the trouble unless there was a better reason than curiosity. A good reccy is mostly made of those small decisions. You learn which parts invite you in and which parts are better left alone.

By the time the light started to fall the river had gone darker under the banks. Rosellas were still moving in the higher gum trees and the fantails were still working the track behind me. The gullies held their cold and the open bush had begun to lose the last warmth from the bark.

The Murrindindi is not remote country and it does not need to be made into something it is not. There are campgrounds and signs and well used tracks. Still the river has enough bends, gullies, ferns, gum trees and birdlife to make a few hours feel well spent. For a first look that was plenty.