We left Daylesford in cool sunshine with Marysville, Yarra Valley entered into Google maps but it wasn’t far up the road that we saw the sign to Hanging Rock and an adjustment had to be made.
As a teenager I was fascinated by the story of “Picnic at Hanging Rock.” For those of you too young to remember, it involves the mysterious disappearance of a number of schoolgirls and their teacher on Valentine’s Day in 1900. A critically acclaimed film in 1975 was based on Joan Lindsay’s novel from 1967, Joan was deliberately ambiguous about whether the events actually happened or not but I was sold and have always wanted to visit the spot.
The car park, which also accommodates the picturesque Hanging Rock racecourse, was almost empty as we drove in and we started the climb with no one but Eastern rosellas for company. The very eerie soundtrack – Gheorghe Zamfir’s ‘Doina Sus Pe Culmea Dealului’ – was a persistent ear worm as we climbed and the monoliths came into view.
Glorious views of surrounding farmland from near the summit were almost eclipsed by the spectacular rock formations themselves and we took many photos before we were joined by several groups that had followed us up.
After descending (just as hard on the knees) we briefly visited the Discovery Centre and then had morning tea in the picnic grounds before resuming our journey.
We had traversed another 20kms or so of undulating countryside when we entered the small town of Lancefield, we made a left turn at the T junction, heard a terrible bang and scraping noise and to my horror I could see the Jimny coming up our right hand side, seemingly about to hit the Moho. I pulled over as calmly as I could and we jumped out to find the whole towing system had come out of the towbar and was sitting on the road. Fortunately the emergency breakaway system had done exactly as it should and the Jimny was stopped about two feet from the back of the Moho. Feeling more than a little weak at the knees we collected the various parts of the towing system, disconnected the Jimny and drove separately around the corner to a safer spot than the bus park I had stopped in.
Despite having a good look back to the intersection that we had come from, we were unable to locate the hitch pin or R clip that holds it in and were completely mystified as to how it could have come out on its own….. I was so relieved that it had happened at walking speed and not coming down a hill at 85 kms/hr and to be honest was very shaken. Ironically we were now parked in front of a hardware store and Russell was able to buy a replacement hitch pin but I was reluctant to hook up again until we had had a chance to recover form the ordeal and take stock about what might have happened so we continued on in separate vehicles, intending to stop at the next caravan park which would be at Kilmore, about 20 minutes away.
Unfortunately Kilmore was fully booked and our next option looked to be a promising free camp on the bank of the Goulburn River, about 50 mins to our north east. Google maps decided to take us on a quintessential Victorian single lane ‘C’ road for most of it and was I needing a drink by the time we pulled in to the camp site!
It proved to a very pretty and popular spot with about ten other rigs already parked up for the night and several campfires burning. I noticed on the map that nearby Seymour had a Maccas and feeling the need for comfort food persuaded Russell that a burger would go OK with wine and by 6 pm we were sitting beside a fast moving Goulburn River debriefing with our wonderful fellow motor homers via Facebook. The general consensus seemed to be that this was unlikely to have happened without human intervention which is a very sobering thought… we had only stayed in caravan parks up to this point and couldn’t imagine this level of vandalization but decided to drive to Shepparton the following day and buy lockable hitch pins recommended by the ever reliable John.
We purchased the last two that BCF had on the shelf, I had a short back and sides hair trim and we headed back to our campsite feeling somewhat more insured against disaster! Our neighbour had spent the afternoon with his chainsaw chopping up a fallen branch and generously donated a pile of (slightly damp) wood and more importantly, half a bag of heat beads and we eventually got a smoky but atmospheric fire going 🤣
Feeling refreshed and with our confidence returning, the next day we hitched the Jimny without incident (taking a large detour so as not to go under the railway bridge in Seymour, although we should have had 10cm to spare..) and headed toward Marysville in the northern Yarra Valley.
The reason for including this part of Victoria is the famous Black Spur drive, allegedly the most scenic drive in the state and recommended by my son, Ben. We weren’t game to traverse it in the Moho but instead drove to the pretty village of Marysville (which is quiet at the moment before gearing up for the ski season), booked into the Caravan Park and set off in the Jimny for the scenic drive south to Healesville.
The scenery didn’t disappoint and we were able to get some lovely shots of the massive tree ferns and towering mountain ash trees before stopping off for a picnic lunch and completing the drive in Healesville . This village was noticeably busier, understandable as it only 60 odd kms from Melbourne and we were happy with our decision to stay in Marysville.
The road was much quieter on the return trip and we decided to celebrate an incident free day by having dinner at the local, The Duck Inn which proved to be more than OK 😉
Tomorrow, not sure where but en route toward Bright.
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