Saturday, November 17, 2018

Mt. Dromedary Unconquered



Start of the Mt. Dromedary Track, eventually - unmarked as well

I can confidently assert that my reputation as a slothbagger remains unblemished. I blame Google Maps for this at least in part, for first sending us up a couple of backroads that ended in large gates and private property signs. The signs may not have deterred me all that much, but the slavering dogs behind them certainly did.
After a roundabout journey which involved an assault from the back of New Norfolk, we did eventually find ourselves on another track which did not however, bear any relationship to the first one. 
 
It looks like a waxflower but is in fact a lemon -scented boronia (Boronia Citriodora). I didn't think of smelling it


Mt. Dromedary has a couple of claims to fame. It does have a distinctly camelid shape and at 989m it supposedly gives excellent views of the surrounding countryside, especially up and down the Derwent, so good in fact, that famous bushranger Martin Cash used it as his lookout to check for the arrival of stage coaches and or passing strangers who might be worth robbing. At least he was a gentleman about it, always polite to the ladies and kind to the poor, public protest being the only reason he wasn’t hanged and was able to end his life peacefully as police constable and orchardist in the foothills of Claremont below. Mount Dromedary is also reputed to have some interesting geological features – tafoni, which are very popular with striated pardalotes (not the extremely endangered ones).

One of several kinds of berries - possibly a Cheeseberry (Cyathodes straminea) or one of its relatives


We wandered up and wandered down. After a few hours we came to a t- junction and the second of a little clutch of tape markers. Unfortunately, they seemed to point mainly in the direction from which we had come, with no indication of whether to turn right or left.  My walking partner took the high road to the left and I proceeded down what looked like a gentle slope to the right. In case one of you bright sparks suggests we should have used the TasMap for this area, the latest walking guide says that the Tasmap isn’t correct either. Next time I will tape a GPS logger and a camera to my forehead, so that both Google and TasMaps will know exactly where to go. I will also take along a supply of breadcrumbs.

The mountain berries were especially bright here - (Leptocophylla junipera) Don't get excited though they have the taste and texture of polystyrene

After a kilometre or so, it looked as if neither of those tracks went anywhere, so we drew lots and headed south west on the assumption we should at least meet up with the other track from Platform Peak which was the alternative but longer route at the first junction. After another couple of kilometres we came to another track  which veered off confidently to the right – this in my estimation  could have led to the point where the track was to climb steeply uphill for 50 minutes, but instead it made another lunge downhill and in the wrong direction. My friend who is on the whole more cautious than I am, decided that we should quit while we were ahead and turn around before we got terminally  lost. 


White hakea was very prolific here too, though mostly this forest is rather dry and sparse


The tracks may well have been woodcutters’ tracks –there was a lot of sawdust and fallen timber about and the whole area had been burnt out a few years ago, which may have been the reason there were so few markers, as was the case at Little Fisher River a few weeks ago. This is getting to be a habit. I am a bit disappointed with my walks this year.

Three way junction - if anyone recognises this and can tell me which way to go I will give it another try. At least Mt. Dromedary isn't as far as Ben Lomond or the Hartz


By the time we got back to the car my feet felt like bleeding stumps and I had the distinct feeling that I should have stopped about three kilometres earlier. Secretly I am rather relieved that we didn’t find the ascending track. I don’t think I could have survived the 50 minute “Moderate” climb.  My friend estimates that we walked ten or twelve kilometres as it was, and it has taken me at least three days to get over it.  Soon I should be able to get to the upstairs bathroom without my trekking pole.(Don't worry, just joking. No need to send condolences).
 
Zoom still not working on my camera, but I think this may be a Hobart Brown Butterfly (Argynnina hobartia) Tasmania's one endemic butterfly - there were lots of them on this walk though Tasmania is not blessed with a large number of species, only 39 compared to the mainland's 400 or those in more tropical regions, but this too is an area which has not yet been well studied.

Still, if walking is about leaving the city behind and getting some exercise and fresh air, rather than achieving loftier objectives, we succeeded admirably and also saw some pretty wildflowers and dancing butterflies, not to mention a forlorn lilac tree in full bloom (not a native). You could say we had a lovely walk around Mt. Dromedary, if not exactly up it. However, this walk also reminded me  how truly wild Tasmania is, even just beyond the city fringe. It's no wonder our houses huddle together around a narrow coastal strip and generally turn their backs upon the bush.   


 
Last rays of sunshine as we head back down

Monday, November 12, 2018

Behind the Wall - Hill Street Reservoir

Gulag Architecture  - not her Majesty's Prison but a historic waterworks begun 1861



It's Architecture Month in Hobart and over the weekend many buildings both public and private, were open to the public. You can have a look at some of them here.
Alas, many places were already booked out even before the brochure was published and the times of several which I would have liked to see, clashed with others I wanted to visit.  From the website, you will see that Hobart certainly has a range of intriguing architecture. I have visited or mentioned some of these buildings such as the Markree House Museum or the charming Egyptian -style Jewish Synagogue previously, and for a short time we lived opposite the Tate House in Taroona, so I thought I would just take a peek at the Hill Street Reservoir which is only a short walk from my house. Alas, this too was already pre -booked out, but after a bit of pestering and pleading, Taleah agreed to let me know if someone failed to turn up and I managed to go on the last tour of same.

You could be forgiven for thinking this was designed to stop people escaping, but it's designed to stop people falling into a vast empty reservoir

Taleah of Taswater

The exterior of the Hill Street Reservoir and Pump Station which I pass on my way to the local shops, had always looked rather grim and Alcatraz –like  with its high fences, barbed wire and  intimidating “No Standing” signs, so I was quite curious as to what lay inside. Besides, I have always been rather intrigued by our industrial heritage. The grand houses and stately homes are usually well -preserved and much is known about them, but our more utilitarian buildings are only now starting to be appreciated when we have lost most of them.  I think of the charming power station on Lake Margaret with its brass fittings and clerestory windows, or the gracious lines of our early, usually Art Deco Hydro buildings or the quaint pump houses in the Derwent Valley, so my expectations were rather high.  [In regard to Art Deco, see for example, the Jet Service Station built in 1936, number 26 in the brochure, which was also on show].

Interior of original reservoir


In terms of the beauty of the architecture, the reservoir didn't exactly leave me breathless. Only function and necessity have dictated its form, but there are some intriguing details. For instance, as Damian, engineer with Taswater explained, in the early days of the colony, when concrete had not yet been invented and the colony had little limestone, Aboriginal shell middens were burnt and used to make mortar to line the brick cistern. If you look closely at the walls of the first Hill Street Reservoir, built in 1862, you will see bits of shells and burnt wood. 

Damian from Taswater also expounds on the difficulty of maintaining pressure, purity and supply as Hobart grows and the climate warms

Midden shells and charcoal still show in the mortar of the original reservoir built in 1862

The old Reservoir now houses pumps and valves

Unfortunately, these walls leaked like a sieve and as Hobart grew, a second reservoir was built in 1883. By this time, materials had improved and this one still serves as auxiliary storage today with most of the old reservoir now occupied by a pumping station built in the 1980s. This regulates flow to various parts of Hobart and provides supplementary water from the river in summer when mountain supplies run low. The style of the pumping station is utterly Spartan with no concession to any artistic sensibilities at all. Its most remarkable feature beyond a mundane collection of pipes, valves and gauges is its very neat cleaning station, but perhaps that’s a comforting thought. 

Incidentally, Taswater staff have noticed changes as the climate warms – not just in the greater need for back up supplies, but also the increasing growth of algae and other organisms in our catchments, which mean far greater costs to keep water clean and pure.

I probably prefer this end of our water supply, but it's good to know how it gets into our houses

Regardless of its architectural merit, the Hill Street Reservoir plays an important role in the history of Hobart’s water supply -an intriguing story in its own right, and one which we often take for granted. A visit to the original pumphouse at the Waterworks Reserve is very instructive in that regard, or as you walk along the Pipeline Track either from Ferntree to Ridgeway or up to Wellington Falls. In my case today's tour at least represents a mystery solved.

Historic photo of the RidgewayDam given to me by Taswater


Wednesday, November 07, 2018

One for the Birds



Crimson Rosella -  Cluan's photo - much better than my bird pics.



Oh dear,  looks like I missed the Great Aussie Backyard Bird Count which ran during Bird Week from 21 – 28th of October, but never fear, I am keeping an eye on those in the backyard. The Birds in Backyards program still allows citizen scientists to contribute not only to our overall knowledge about the health and distribution of our birds, but also about how our environment is changing. Like frogs and other sensitive creatures, birds are literally the canaries in the coalmine of our world. 

My bird photography is a lot like my seal photography. 
If you play this at fullscreen you may see the rear of a Yellow Throated Honeyeater


For instance, last year’s Backyard Bird Count involving 72, 421 people and 1,972, 250 birds, noted a decline in Kookaburra populations right across the south eastern states, though the reasons have thus far remained elusive. However, there are already indications that the drought is causing birds of prey to seek out coastal cities and driving other birds out of the bush.   

Alas, the most significant numbers of birds in the Tasmanian count for 2017, were for starlings, blackbirds and sparrows, all of them drab introduced species, not our wonderful Scarlet Robins, Superb Fairy Wrens (that is their name) or Firetail Finches, much less the endangered ones, such as the Forty Spotted Pardalote or the Orange Bellied Parrot. The Tasmanian Geographic - an excellent publication by the way, has lots of information with really good photos of many of these.  See for example, what is happening to our Shearwaters or the Forty Spotted Pardalote.

Still, Tasmania remains a great place for twitchers.* It has over 200 species packed into a compact area -68,401 square Km - about the size of Ireland, Switzerland or the State of Virginia, according to Google. At least twelve of the species are unique to Tasmania largely because of its island status and long isolation. 

It turns out that our current visitor is most likely a young or female Yellow Throated Honeyeater Lichenostomus-flavicollisone which is endemic to Tasmania, though I have yet to see its throat. (The birds in backyards website has a great bird identifying feature and also tells you what you could plant to help encourage birds into your garden). Through watching our bird we have become much more aware of the other birds in our immediate environment and also the seasonal changes –swallows and gulls swoop and dart overhead  and we see a young sparrow’s first tentative attempt at flight. Despite   the traffic noise, roadworks and renovators, there is also an amazing array of bird calls and songs. You can also hear some of those on the Birds in Backyards website.


Preparing for take -off. At least this little sparrow stood still, 
and yes, I should definitely wash that window

Any Aussies reading this can of course download the app and register on the Birds in Backyards bsite and join in on their next survey in December and January, but there's no reason why anyone with access to a window can't make their own observations and or keep a visual diary.
I have also just read that Cornell University's Ornithology Department held its first World Wide Bird Count last May and will now conduct  them in May each year. I will be interested to see whether the results of the Great Aussie backyard Bird Count will be merged with it, since the numbers listed there for Australia are only a fraction of those counted by Australians.

http://www.birdsinbackyards.net/

* Twitchers = Birdwatchers to the uninitiated