Welcome, fellow wanderers, to a trail so mind numbingly boring you'll be glad you've watched this video, if only to avoid it. To reach O'Shannessy's reservoir there are a number of options. First of which is to walk or bike from various intermissions along the course of the aqueduct trail extending from O'Shannessy's weir to the Don Valley below. Or walk up and down a 20-meter wide slash through the bush, taking you as the crow flies from Woods Point roadside to weir. The slash of course acts as maintenance access for various authorities linked to the underground water pipe network now branching out from O'Shannessy's Reservoir found upstream from the Weir and protected from public access.
This journey while dull, contrasts nicely the engineering feats of today versus those that existed in the early 20th century. O'Shannessy's aqueduct, river and reservoir are named after Victoria's second premier Sir John O'Shanassy. Mysteriously the names are spelt differently but I guess once the first plaque was laid no one felt the correction was worth the expense.
O'Shannessy's Weir, is a tranquil oasis nestled amidst the beauty of the Upper Yarra's tall timber stands, mid level fernery and thick understory of shrubbery. Remnants of European exotics stand like welcoming columns to the entrance of the weir and you get the sense there would've once been a worker's cottage in the immediate vicinity.
The waters of the reservoir cascade over the weir's rock wall, which were once pooled in order to divert water through the aqueducts gate. Now the water glides endlessly past the closed gates, tumbling over the wall and downstream to meet with the Yarra River below. Circular hand cranks still stand as a reminder to the water flow's manual attention which existed prior to electrics, wi-fi and auto-driven rams.
Of course with such man-made and natural beauty blending together so effortlessly, it's easy to get lost in quiet reflection at the foresight, effort, mathematics and leeches the early planners would've no doubt endured. Realising a piece of cotton clinging onto my cheek bone is none other than a wriggly, lurching, leech I claw at my face like it's suddenly on fire and snap out of any meditative thoughts. After successive scrapes of the face, and a selfie to inspect the removal of my unwanted passenger I begin the long trudge back along maintenance track "Road One". Next time (and there will be a next time) the gravel bike with saddlebags will see me back here along the full length of the aqueduct. Until then, Get Terry & Get Outdoors.
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Purchasable prints from hiking adventures: galleries.getterry.com.au/gal...
26 апр 2024
