On top of the world (or at least Mount Sugarloaf)

Getting to know my local landscape

Mount Sugarloaf

One of the many features that drew us to purchase our property at Axedale in 2022 was the view from the front of the house across to Mount Sugarloaf, a low ridge standing around 230 metres above the surrounding plains. In the two years since moving here, I’ve never once grown tired of watching the sun (or moon) rise above the rocky peak, or exploring the wildflower laden Box-Ironbark-Yellow Gum forest of the Sugarloaf Conservation Area at its base. Somewhat embarrassingly though, up until now, I’d never actually explored the ridge line itself.

A carpet of gold-dust wattles in the Sugarloaf Conservation Area

After the severe storms of October 2022 and January 2024, a number of the tracks in the area have become washed out and impassable to vehicles, however there is foot access at least via a very rugged trail that runs straight up onto the ridge from Murphy Track, one of the main roads that traverses the Sugarloaf Conservation Area and Wellsford Forest.

A large Yellow Gum (Eucalyptus leucoxylon) near Murphy Track
Reflections in a bush dam near Murphy Track

After a brief stop to admire the reflections of the yellow gums in a nearby bush dam, I parked the car at the base of the walking track. My first move was to make a short detour in the opposite direction along another track, towards an anomaly I’d noticed on Google Maps along a trail named Soil Pit Track. After passing through a short section of stringybark and yellow gum woodland, thick with grevilleas and fringe myrtles, the track opened out into a large area of excavated ground. It wasn’t exactly clear what the purpose of this area was, but it looked like some sort of open cut mining venture, as there were large “mullock” heaps everywhere and it seemed to follow the line of the Sugarloaf, which was a well worked reef line that had been mined for gold since the 1890s. Unfortunately, it’s not the easiest place to find the history of, so for the most part I’m just guessing at that.

There had definitely been some sort of large-scale operation here at some stage
Large piles of rubble surrounded the pits
The line of excavation seemed to follow the main Sugarloaf line

Back at the ridge track, I headed up past the concrete barrier and was soon climbing steeply through thickets of stunted Red Stringybarks (Eucalyptus macroryncha). Having spent a fair bit of time exploring this reserve and the adjacent Wellsford State Forest in recent weeks, it amazes me just how different the vegetation is along this ridge compared to the taller forests below. Here the predominant understorey of wattles and melaleucas gives way to a sea of golden flowered Hibbertia crinata, pink fringe myrtle (Calytrix tetragona), gnarled, Bushy Needlewood (Hakea decurrens ssp physocarpa) with its vicious spines, and the occasional hairy Geebung (Persoonia rigida).

The track is now closed to 4WDs via a concrete barrier, but it is still used by trailbike riders and bushwalkers
The vegetation along the ridge is notably low growing and gnarled looking
The tallest sub storey plants along the ridge are generally Hairy Geebung (Persoonia rigida)

What is really amazing about the vegetation along the ridge is how quickly it changes as you climb – as the soil begins to thin out, the plants that have dominated the deeper sands and gravels below are very quickly replaced by hardier species. Even here, there are dramatic changes in vegetation from one spot to another, with almost pure stands of red stringybark giving way at times to Grey Box (Eucalyptus microcarpa) and even some stands of Bulloke (Allocasuarina leuhmannii) and Drooping Sheoak (Allocasuarina verticilliata). At one point along the way I found a large patch of Austral Indigo (Indigoferra australis) – a common shrub in Victoria but one I had not seen in this reserve until now.

The change in vegetation is most likely as a result of the deeper sands and gravels being replaced by much lighter, shallower soils over solid rock
Austral Indigo (Indigoferra australis) poking out from between two rocks
This was the only patch of Indigo I encountered for the whole day

By this stage I had left the old 4WD trail behind, preferring instead to traverse the edge of the ridge, where it offered better views of the land between here and Mount Alexander, 70 kilometres away to the southwest. The walking was steep at times, but it was pretty easy going, as the vegetation here was very sparse and low growing. It certainly looked easier than the track, which undulated wildly through several deep gullies that criss-crossed the ridge in places.

Probably the steepest part of the trail
But the views from the top were a great reward for effort
Mount Alexander dominates the skyline to the southwest, looking out towards Harcourt and Castlemaine

Not long into the trip I started seeing signs of the area’s gold rush history, with a number of abandoned diggings scattered around, and some precariously deep vertical shafts that had been sunk to chase the seams of quartz that ran deep through the mountain. While not as famous as the nearby Bendigo goldfields, there were still fortunes made at Sugarloaf, although it looks like the going was pretty tough, and by all accounts many of the most promising leads often petered out all too soon.

Diggings along a gully at the top of Mount Sugarloaf
One of a number of deep, vertical shafts along the top of Mount Sugarloaf

As technology changed, and the ability to dig deeper and extract more gold from the ore became a reality, these seams became highly sought after again. To this day, the Fosterville Gold Mine, adjacent to Mount Sugarloaf’s eastern flank, has become one of the richest and most productive gold mines in Australia. You catch occasional glimpses of it through the trees, and the constant hum of machinery and pounding of the ore crushers reminds you that it is there, but for the most part it is just background noise, drowned out by the numerous bird calls you hear as you walk.

From time to time you can catch glimpses of the Fosterville Gold Mine from the ridge
The view to the southeast across the mine, with Mount Ida in the distance

After over an hour of walking I re-joined the main track at a large gap in the ridge. Here, a steep gullies gouged their way down each side of the ridge, dry for now, but showing obvious signs of the torrents of water they would disperse during a rain event. One that dropped to the west followed an exposed seam of quartz that the diggers had obviously been chasing – waters from this creek eventually find their way into Kangaroo Creek, a tributary of Axe Creek that joins the main creek just upstream from our house.

An exposed quartz reef at the top of the ridge, with diggers’ workings in the background

By this stage my legs were telling me that I should head back, but the scenery ahead kept me pushing on, determined to reach a point along the ridge where I could get a glimpse of our house below. At a junction in the track I was surprised to see a dumped car; and while for the most part I cursed at the mongrels who would do such a thing, part of me did have to admire the tenacity of those who would drive an ordinary sedan that far along a track that I’d struggle to take my 4WD onto.

The dumped sedan at the junction in the track

Putting the vandalism behind me, I made my way up the steep slope, past more gold diggings, until the track began to level out again at the top of the ridge. Here it was possible to leave the road behind again and walk closer to the edge, which afforded much better views to the west. In places, the understorey here gave way to what appeared to be a lush lawn, but on closer inspection turned out to be masses of Rock Fern (Cheilanthes austrotenuifolia).

Rock Fern (Cheilanthes austrotenuifolia) giving the appearance of a lawn beneath the stringybarks

The ridge line continued in a dead straight line until it reached a point where Sugarloaf Track intersected the ridge line. Here, there was a large gap between the peaks, before the main ridge started again slightly further to the west. By this stage I had been walking for well over two hours, and I was starting to get some not-so-subtle reminders from my legs that I’m no longer young, but I still hadn’t managed to spot our house, so I willed myself on across the rise and made my way up to the next track, which climbed almost vertically to the highest point of the range.

The junction with Sugarloaf Track
The last climb up to the highest point of the ridge

After scrambling my way up what was no better than a goat track, I finally made it to the top, to be rewarded by the sight I’d been after – there, through the trees, I could see our house! I walked around on top of the peak for a while, trying to find the best vantage point to take a few photographs. I was a little surprised at just how clearly I could make out the new planting I’d been doing along the edge of the dam, the very thing that had inspired my interest in researching the local flora in the first place. I’m keen to go back up there in future, to see what difference this revegetation project is making to the overall view.

Our house, with the new tree-plantings on the hill behind the dam clearly visible
The house at bottom right of the frame, in relation to the surrounding landscape – that’s Mount Alexander off in the distance

One of the challenges I have set myself with the dam revegetation project is to try and mimic as closely as possible the vegetation communities found here in the Sugarloaf Conservation Area. This means I’m not only looking at planting the same species of plants that are found here, but also planting them alongside other plants that would naturally be growing with, and in areas they are most likely to be found in the wild. For instance, in amongst the stringybarks, a lot of the sub storey plants are small and spiky, offering great protection to the little robins, thornbills, and wrens that abound in the area. I’ve tried to duplicate this with the dam plantings by surrounding my taller trees with lots of spiky plants like Spreading Wattle (Acacia genistifolia) and Bushy Needlewood (Hakea decurrens ssp. physocarpa).

A spiky leaved heath species that I believe may be Spoon-leaf Beard-heath (Styphelia rufa)
Another very viciously spike wattle, this one Ploughshare Wattle (Acacia gunnii)

For my walk back to the car, I decided to mainly stick to the track, to see if there were any interesting features in the gullies that I might have missed while traversing the ridge. I did see a number of additional abandoned gold diggings, including a couple of areas that were dotted with deep shafts, and even a horizontal “adit” that had been driven in towards the main seam.

Some of the shafts were obviously quite deep, although I wasn’t game to get too close to find out just how deep they were
They must have been quite dangerous to work, judging by the crumbly soil above
The rare site of an adit, a horizontal mine entrance, that pushed back into the side of the hill

As I reached the junction that featured the exposed quartz seam again, I couldn’t help noticing a single Eucalyptus tree that seemed obviously different to those around. On closer inspection, I believe it to be a specimen of Long-leaf Box (Eucalyptus goniocalyx), which would make sense, as the location was a close match for one of two sites within the reserve where that species has been recorded.

What I believe to be a single Long-leaf box (Eucalyptus goniocalyx)

Climbing up from the diggings again, I had a sneaking suspicion that I was being watched. Sure enough, as I stepped closer to the outcrop where I’d previously spotted the Indigo bushes, a family of Black Wallabies (Wallabia bicolor) scattered off into the undergrowth, each one pausing after a few bounds to stop and watch me from the safety of the trees.

Wallaby country
A Black Wallaby (Wallabia bicolor) beside the track
Watching from the safety of the trees

With the morning having given way to the afternoon, and the prospects of a late lunch looming back at the house, I retraced my steps back along the ridge to Murphy Track, and headed for home. I think the next time I do this walk, I’d like to coordinate it with some fellow walkers, which would allow us to park cars at both ends of the ridge, and do the full traversal along the entire length of the Sugarloaf. I’ve already put out some feelers with various other interested parties, so watch this space.

An impressive Buloke (Allocasuarina leuhmannii)

The Axe Creek Protection Project

One of the big drawcards for us moving on to this property in 2022 was the fact that one of our boundaries is formed by Axe Creek, a major tributary of the Campaspe River. While it is usually referred to as a “seasonal” stream that is dry for much of the year, there’s good evidence to suggest that this is only a recent phenomena. In fact, when we first mentioned to an old fisherman friend back in Mount Dandenong that we were thinking of moving here, he waxed lyrical about his time spent as a young man fishing for perch along Axe Creek at Axedale.

Streams of native Water Ribbons (Triglochin procera) at the tail of one of the pools on our property.

Nowadays however, the creek tends to flow well in wet winters and springs before drying up completely through summer – although we were lucky to witness an exception to that last year, thanks to the unseasonably wet spring. Of course, that unseasonable wet weather led to devastating floods in October 2022, with the creek bursting its banks multiple times and turning our paddocks into raging watercourses, taking our fences along with it.

Axe Creek resembled a large inland lake for much of September and October 2022.

Fast forward a year, and we’ve seen a couple of very dry months that have thankfully had little impact so far thanks to all that water last year, but which will no doubt start to bite as the weather continues to warm up. Whether you blame this on climate change, or natural weather cycles, or poor land management practices – or as I suspect, a combination of all of the above – it’s clear that the health of the creek has been suffering for many years, and so when the opportunity to become involved with a project called the Axe Creek Protection Project came along, we jumped at the chance.

Axe Creek at its most serene.

Essentially, what this project aims to do is to restore valuable riparian habitat along the creek, in the hope that improved erosion controls, better shade coverage and reduced weed infestation will all help to conserve water within the creek, restore environmental flows and improve the chances of native fish, amphibians and even platypus returning to the area.

A large area of cleared land beside the creek.

When our next door neighbour approached us about repairing the shared fence line that had been wiped out not once, but twice last year due to flooding, we agreed that it would be crazy to replace like with like and just simply put up another sheep mesh fence. Whenever the creek floods, the debris that is carried with the floodwater builds up in the mesh and acts like a dam, bowing and stretching the wire until the whole thing gives way. Instead we decided to run individual strands of wire that are much more flexible and allow all but the largest of logs and branches to pass right through. We also agreed that the initial 50 metre stretch back from the creek was the most prone to flooding, and as such we finished our fence shorter, creating a fenceless corridor that we could then devote to streamside revegetation.

One of the flood damaged fences, where debris has managed to build up along the sheep mesh.
Replacing the sheep mesh with individual wires should alleviate some of the issues with flood damage.

On our property especially, there are some magnificent River Red Gums that remain along the creek, but pretty much all of the native vegetation besides that has been removed. Through consultation with Tim Jenkyn of BushCo Land Management (the company leading the project), we’ve come up with a plan to return a small but significant area of grazing land to native habitat, and to diversify the number of plant species along our stretch of creek frontage.

One of the large River Red Gums (Eucalyptus camaldulensis) that dominate the lower part of the property.

The project has predominantly been funded via a $450,000 donation by Agnico Eagle, the operators of the nearby Fosterville Gold Mine, in collaboration with a number of community groups including Landcare, business groups, and the amazing volunteer group FOSSALS (Friends of Strathfieldsaye Streams and Land). More than 50 landholders, ourselves included, have signed up for the project and have given access to Tim and the BushCo team to conduct walkthroughs of our paddocks, identifying and spraying out any serious weed infestations and running rip lines along areas that are then going to be planted up.

A patch of Scotch Thistle that has been sprayed, and has started to die off.

Now before I go too much further, I do want to address the elephant in the room. There’s a small but vocal group of locals who are vehemently opposed to the gold mine and everything it represents. Mining companies, and especially multinational gold miners, don’t always have a great track record when it comes to the environment and as new arrivals to the area, the last thing we want to do is throw shade on these folk and their sometimes quite legitimate concerns. But at the same time, we’re also well aware that there’s a lot of good things that the mining company do for the local community, through sponsorships and grants, and if it means having to dance with the devil sometimes to get a positive outcome, then strike up a chord and let me put on my dancing shoes. Call it guilt money, or blood money if you like, but whatever the case, it’s money that is being handed back to the community, and I for one intend to make sure that it gets put to good use. Besides, with modern society’s love of technology, including mobile phones and electric vehicles, it’s not like we’re going to be curtailing our need for more gold any time soon, and we do happen to live smack bang on top of one of the richest gold deposits in the world.

Sorting out plants into buckets for dispersal among the volunteers.

With that out of the way, I can get on to describing the way the project is currently progressing. After a few false starts (why is it that it only ever seems to rain on a Tuesday?), the weather finally stayed clear enough in early October to allow about a dozen or so volunteers from FOSSALS to turn up for a tree planting day across the two properties here, and they managed to make short order of the 400+ native trees and shrubs that Tim had selected for our stretch of creek.

Planting underway.

At this early stage, we have concentrated on colonising Acacia species such as Blackwood (Acacia melanoxylon), Early Black Wattle (A. mearnsii), Silver Wattle (A. dealbata) and Wiralda (A. retinoides). Along a slightly elevated line further back from the creek we’ve also planted Yellow Box (Eucalyptus melliodora) and down in the lower parts of the creek bank we have planted River Bottlebrush (Callistemon sieberi) and Tall Sedge, (Carex appressa). The plan is that once these plants become established, (and these are all fairly fast growing varieties), they will offer protection for a secondary round of planting that will include some of the more delicate, lower growing shrubs such as Correas and Grevilleas and native grasses and sedges.

The rip lines slowly started to fill up with trees and tree guards.
The planting extends along the creek edge across the two properties.
With a lot more young red gums on Fraser’s property, the species planted here were predominantly wattles.

With a dry summer threatening, the important thing now is going to be to keep the watering up to the plants, but thankfully we have recently had more than 50mm of rain, which has managed to penetrate a long way down into the rip lines. That should encourage these fast growing species to send their roots down deep into the soil, binding it far better than the pasture grasses could ever do, and helping to minimise any further erosion.

On some of the more slightly elevated areas on my property, we also planted a number of Yellow Box.
Within the confines of the creek banks, more than 40 River Bottlebrush were also planted.

In addition to the planting along the creek, I have been working closely with Tim on a plan to revegetate one of the main flood paths, directly above our dam. The large soak here is currently full of Juncus, but we want to diversify this to include swamp-loving natives like Totem Poles (Melaleuca decussata) and Heath Tea Trees (Leptospermum myrsinoides), as well as planting up the higher, erosion-prone top of the mound behind the dam with drier woodland species such as Grey Box (Eucalyptus microcarpa) and Red Ironbark (E. tricarpa), interspersed with Rough Wattle (Acacia aspera) and Common Fringe Myrtle (Calytrix tetragona). On the face of the mound, the plan is to have a mass of Gold-dust Wattle (A. acinacea), Showy Parrot Pea (Dillwynia sericea) and Cats-claw Grevillea (Grevillea alpina), which should create a stunning visual each spring that will be visible from the house.

The soak area around the front of the dam that is also going to be revegetated.
This lower area leading up to the dam was inundated during 2022’s heavy flooding.
This slightly elevated area above the soak will host a copse of Buloke (Allocasuarina luehmannii)

Unfortunately for most of the morning on the Tuesday, Fraser and I both had to work, with several remote meetings on the agenda, however we did manage to join Tim and the FOSSALS for a bit of morning tea (including carrot cakes supplied by Vanessa), during which the crew presented us with a couple of plaques to go on the front gate, celebrating the fact that we’re now making a contribution to such an important local project. We look forward to continuing this new collaboration for at least the next twelve months that the project officially has to run, but hopefully for many more years to come. It may not happen in our lifetimes, but hopefully somewhere along the line, a young fisherman might one day wander the banks of Axe Creek once again. And if he were to stop for a moment under the shade of a Blackwood tree to watch a platypus paddling in a deep pool, then I know I will have done my bit.

Commemorative plaques for the front gate.