The Big Tree.
Jul 3rd, 2006 by Duncan
I’ve been meaning to do this piece for a while, and now Cindy’s great post, and The Festival Of The Trees have stirred me into action.
If you look to the north-east from the Orbost district in Far East Gippsland, you can see a pale blue conical mountain on the horizon, its name is Mount Ellery. Thirty odd years ago it captured my imagination, mainly because my reading told me it was the home of the Gippsland Waratah, Telopea oreades, and the Monkey Mint Bush, Prostanthera walteri. At the time, bushwalking was my other big interest, and it came to pass that a trip to Mount Ellery went on to the club’s walks calendar with yours truly as leader.
It had to be checked out first, so a weekend in October saw a friend, my young son, and myself camping at Marlo on the Friday night, ready for the climb up the mountain on the Saturday. That night it rained non stop, and next morning we had to fit snow chains to negotiate the logging road as we gained altitude on the drive to Ellery Saddle, our kicking off point. As we drove I saw for the first time the waratah, a never to be forgotten sight, slender trees up to thirty feet tall in full flower with spectacular terminal crimson flower racemes.
We were tackling the ascent from the south side, which meant climbing the steep slope through luxuriant cool temperate rainforest, but on that occasion we didn’t have the opportunity to appreciate its wonders due to the weather conditions. We were sopping wet from pushing through the vegetation, and when we were about two thirds of the way to the summit the weather closed in again, lightning was flashing around us accompanied by deafening peals of thunder, time to beat a retreat and pick off the leeches back at the vehicle.
Fortunately, when the walks took place we had beautiful weather, and I led two climbs to the top, one on the Saturday and one on Sunday. The waratahs were still in flower, and this time, despite the extremely steep climb, we could take the time to marvel at the forest on the southern slope of the ridge. The Shining Gum, Eucalyptus nitens is the dominant tree there, and it grows to a great height above an understory of tall treeferns. What an experience to stand in the coolness under the treeferns, their canopy virtually blotting out the sky, and look at those immense smooth shining trunks disappearing upwards into the blue beyond.
On reaching the ridge top we found the mint bush, and the flowering Dusty Daisy-bush pollen had us all sneezing. Ellery is a granite mountain, the highest point is a huge egg shaped tor standing over seventy feet tall, and to reach it from the eastern side you have to negotiate dark passages beneath the surrounding huge boulders.
Nowadays there is a steel ladder to the top, but in those days it was a scary climb with no hand-holds, and on the Saturday only myself and two lads in the party made it to the top. On the Sunday we had a bigger crew, and that time three girls put the men to shame, joining myself and a mate on top of the rock. Going down was tricky, you had to make your way down a smooth forty degree slope, then drop three feet on to a narrow ledge with a sheer drop below. I acted as anchor man, steadying the girls until they were safely on the ledge.
In the cool recesses below the jumbled granite tors, bogong moths in their millions covered the rock like a living tapestry, they must have one of the most unique life cycles of any moth in the world, and there is an excellent account of it here.
All the foregoing has been something of a prologue, because the star of the show is a tree that grows fifty metres up the saddle from the road. The first time I saw it I found it hard to comprehend its size. Massive is a very descriptive word, but one that really doesn’t do justice to this tree, a Mountain Grey Gum, Eucalyptus cypellocarpa. It’s a tall tree, but it is the sheer bulk of the trunk that makes one stand and look in awe and wonder. How old must it be, and to think that it started life as a tiny seed smaller than a grain of sand makes it all the more remarkable. On my second trip in to see it I took a steel measuring tape, and if my memory serves me correctly, the circumference was forty seven feet about two metres above the ground. Pictures speak louder than words however, here’s a picture of the trunk with my family in front, taken in February 1979, scanned from one of those good old Kodachrome slides.
Click on the pictures for larger versions, and there is another picture of the tree here.
That was a very enjoyable read, Duncan. That Mountain Grey Gum is quite the tree! Also found the page about the Bogong moths quite fascinating. Indeed, what an odd life cycle.
what a magnificent tree.. and thanks for providing the links for the bogong moths too, they’re gorgeous. So now I have moths on my list I’d like to see when I visit
I love the photos- they capture the thrill of just being there, something you do so well.
Glad you enjoyed it Bev and Cindy, it’s a special place. The Shining Gums were saved from logging due to the steepness of the terrain, and thankfully it was then given the status of a scenic reserve. They still managed to desecrate the summit though by installing radio antennae and steel ladders on the big rock.
There’s some interesting info on the area here
That’s one big tree.
Those granite boulders look wonderful for bouldering, especially in an environment like that. As for that tree, well, I feel very small, very young, and very insignificant whenever I stand at the foot of something like that (we have trees of similar stature here). Humbled, I think, would be an appropriate word.
Loved this post, Duncan.
Dave and Pete, what makes that tree remarkable is that it is a giant of its kind. Mountain Grey Gum can grow to be a large tree, my text book quotes 120 – 150 feet high and 3 – 5 feet in diameter in good mountain forest areas. The Big Tree obviously never heard about that! Pete, you hit the nail on the head with the word humbled, makes one feel very insignificant standing beside something like that.