Ben Cruachan – natural history

It’s nearly 55 years since I first visited the Moroka River, in those days on a geared down, rigid frame, girder fork 1939 Levis motorcycle. The attractions then were the challenge of the ride up the steep rocky jeep track, camping in the old cattleman’s hut, the hike into the hidden lake, catching brown trout in the river, and just enjoying the special atmosphere of the prettiest river in the mountains. These days we travel up a better track in a modern four wheel drive, and the attractions now are birds, orchids and other rare plants, and my new interest Odonata, although the special feeling of just being on the Moroka is the same now as it was all those years ago.
Peter and I went up the other day, we got away at eight thirty and reached the foot track into the Moroka Hut at ten, after travelling through country that had seen the worst of last summer’s bushfires. In some areas the eucalypts were heavily clothed with epicormic growth and recovering well, other pockets including the big fern gully had escaped, while the forest on the dry ridges below Bleak Hill had been devastated. Twelve months on, the ground under the blackened tree trunks is still bare, and the trees that have survived are struggling to put on growth. Looking across towards Mount Wellington we could see bleached bands running across the ridges, looking through the binoculars we could see they were dead tree tops, probably Alpine Ash, that dies in a fire and regenerates from seed. Once over Bleak Hill, the country on the slope down to the Moroka had been burnt here and there but in general was looking good, and we were delighted to see small flocks of Flame Robins, all brown birds which suggested a successful breeding season.
On the walk down the track, flowering Royal Bluebells were beautiful, and when we neared the river flat, butterflies were flitting around the yellow Billybuttons. I noticed several species, but the most numerous were these Common Silver Xenicas, thanks again Charles for the ID.

The hut is in a clearing called Racecourse Plain, pretty small racecourse, just the right size for dragonflies though, and they were cutting laps. Happily the odd one settled for a spell, and gave me the opportunity I was hoping for, a photo of my first new species for the day. The field guide was back in the vehicle, but in any event I didn’t bother with identification until that night when Swamp Tigertail was added to my list.

We checked along the bank of the Moroka looking for damsels without success, so Peter and I followed the old track we used in the motorcycling days to a shallow ford through a small creek that feeds the river. It was only a minute or two before we saw large damsels, only three, once again a new species for me, the Bronze Needle. They were not easy to photograph, perching on the tall grass that was swaying in the breeze, but eventually one landed on the far side and gave me my best picture, albeit not in good light.

Well, that was a good start for the day, two new ones for my list, but I had high hopes for some more, our next stop would be Morgan’s Gully, a big sphagnum swamp that drains into the river. Surely there would be something new there, and we also were going to go into the Alpine Ash forest on the way home to try to find Fisch’s Greenhood, a February flowering orchid.
To be continued.