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Canberra-based naturalist, conservationist, educator since 1980. I’m passionate about the natural world (especially the southern hemisphere), and trying to understand it and to share such understandings. To that aim I’ve written several books (most recently 'Birds in Their Habitats' and 'Australian Bird Names; origins and meanings'), run tours all over Australia, and for the last decade to South America, done a lot of ABC radio work, chaired a government environmental advisory committee and taught many adult education classes – and of course presented this blog, since 2012. I am the recipient of the Australian Natural History Medallion, the Australian Plants Award and most recently a Medal of the Order of Australia for ‘services to conservation and the environment’. I live happily in suburban Duffy with my partner Louise surrounded by a dense native garden and lots of birds.

Thursday 30 January 2020

Remembering Namadgi: celebration of a great park #1

As I write this, Namadgi National Park, which comprises some 45% of the area of the Australian Capital Territory where I live, is burning again. So far it has already consumed some 15,000 hectares of habitat (14% of the park) but in a situation of extreme drought, with two 40+ degree days coming, that won't be the limit of it. Nonetheless I am cautiously optimistic that this time won't be as bad as the cataclysm of January 2003 when 95% of Namadgi burnt, plus some 500 Canberra homes. (I retold the story, from my perspective, here on the tenth anniversary; I won't revisit it now.) My optimism is based on more benign predicted wind conditions, the early attack made possible by the fact that it started in the ACT and was immediately identified (the 2003 fire roared over the range from the west, already a raging monster, completely invincible), and lessons learnt from the past.

[Update, Saturday morning, 1 February. The fire has already doubled in size, spreading south, east and north. So far it has not moved into the high western ranges where it would, I believe, do the most ecological damage.]
Looking north out of the Ororral Valley; the current fire started somewhere near here.
(It was a terrible accident which probably shouldn't have happened, but my interest today is not in laying blame.)
The great granite tors that are a feature of this part of the park are visible on the ridges to the right.
Today I don't want to dwell on what's happened this dreadful summer, and is still happening while our Federal Government is paralysed by denial as to the role of climate warming. We've all been assailed by shock and grief for what's been lost for too long already and our health is doubtless suffering. Today I want to share and celebrate with you some of the glory of this magnificent park, with photos taken from walks and drives we've done over the years. Much of what you see will hopefully remain unburnt at the end of this summer, and the rest will recover in time - remember that all you see here was burnt in 2003. Moreover, apart from the couple of pics of the Orroral Valley (towards the south-east of the red circle in the following map) all the scenes to follow remain unaffected by the fire, at least for now. Another reason for presenting this now is that we will almost certainly not be able to go and see for ourselves this summer.
A somewhat crude map of the Territory (from the Federal Health Department, curiously),
with Namadgi represented by the green area in the west and south, with Canberra to the north-east.
I have added the red circle to indicate the approximate area of the current fire as of 30 January 2020.
The rugged wilderness of the Brindabella Range runs down the western border.
This is the first of three posts I've planned on Namadgi. Today will be just an introduction to the landscapes, with a post each on plants (especially wildflowers), and animals to come. Rather than leave my usual fortnightly gap, I'm going to run them over the next two weeks. 

Let's start with the high Brindabellas (the Brindies to their friends). They represent the northern-most extension of the Australian Alps, and Namadgi is managed cooperatively with the New South Wales (NSW), Victorian and national parks services as the Australian Alps National Parks, a mighty and nearly contiguous wilderness of some 1.6 million hectares and 12 parks and reserves. They together form one of the world's great park systems, though they've been hard hit by fires in recent years.
This is a low-resolution map I'm afraid (courtesy of the Australian Alps NPs web site) but gives an idea of
the extent of the combined alps system; Namadgi is at the northern end of the strip of parks.
It's an easy drive on a good gravel road down the ridgeline on the western border with NSW, as far as Mount Ginini, where there are great views out into Kosciuszko National Park in NSW, and into southern Namadgi. These four views start out to the west, and work round to the south and south-east. In each of them tree skeletons from the 2003 fires are visible.
Across the Snow Gums to the Bogong Peaks in Kosciuszko.

South-west, still looking into Kosciuszko, to Tantangara Reservoir on the Murrumbidgee.
Beyond again, not quite visible at this scale, are the peaks of the Main Range,
including Mount Kosciuszko itself, Australia's highest peak.

Due south along the range to Mount Gingera.
South-east into the Bimberi Wilderness Area of Namadgi, accessible only on foot (though closed this summer
for obvious reasons), including the hump of Mt Namadgi, the highest peak entirely within the ACT.
The vegetation up here is dominated by Snow Gums Eucalyptus pauciflora, tough and resilient.
Snow Gums on Mount Ginini.
In summer the understorey, of shrubby golden peas or snowy white paper daisies, glows in sunshine or cloud.
Leafy Bossiaea Bossiaea foliosa.
Alpine or Hoary Sunrays Leucochrysum alpinum.
Common or Golden Shaggy-Pea Oxylobium ellipticum.
Just below the Snow Gums grow the magnificent Alpine Ash E. delegatensis wet forests. Unlike most other eucalypts these are killed outright by intense fires and regrow from seed in even-aged stands; hence most Alpine Ash in Namadgi now are saplings. However some survived around Bulls Head on the western ridge. Bulls Head was the headquarters of the fire-fighting effort in 2003 until it became too dangerous for fire crews to stay there. Meantime though they were back-burning, which I think explains the survival of mature Alpine Ash nearby, as the subsequent wildfires were somewhat less intense there.
Alpine Ash stand on a sheltered slope near Bulls Head.
Fishbone Fern Blechnum nudum recovering in a moist Alpine Ash gully.
Towards the centre and east of the park the ranges are just as rugged but mostly dominated by granites, forming great tors, rather than the old sedimentary shales of the high Brindabellas, and are interspersed by broad grassy frost-hollow valleys. The access to most of these is via the Boboyan Road which runs south from Tharwa into New South Wales and ultimately to Adaminaby.

One of these of course is the Ororral Valley, currently in the midst of the fire ground; the ridges above the valley are noted for their great granite standing stones. (I'm using 'granite' here in a general lay sense for igneous rocks formed deep underground and revealed by natural erosion; geologists would roll their eyes at my imprecision.)
The tors will still be there, and in time the forests will regenerate yet again.
 

Further south are other major valleys, including Gudgenby, the site of a historic homestead and an well-preserved Indigenous art site, and Grassy Creek in the far south. The next few photos were taken in the Gudgenby Valley, along the walking track to the Yankee Hat art site.
Granites above Bogong Swamp.

Bogong Creek.
Snow Gum and granites with the hill known as Yankee Hat in the background.
The centres of these valleys were naturally treeless because of cold air drainage,
but settlers cleared outward from the edges of the grasslands to expand grazing.
Yankee Hat art site, above and below.
The granite 'canvas' is huge, and its overhang protects the art.


Grassy Creek valley, near the southern border of the ACT, contains the beautiful Mount Clear Camp Ground above the creek.
Grassy Creek Valley; the delineation between frost hollow and forest is sharp.

Grassy Creek, alongside the camp ground.

Wombat burrow in the creek bank.

Looking east to Mount Clear on the eastern border from the camp ground.
Another view of Mount Clear can be gained from the Shanahans Mountain walk, a little way back up the road to the north. 
Looking from Shanahans Mountain, part of the Booth Range, across Naas Creek Valley to Mount Clear.
Mountain Gum E. dalrympleana among the smaller Snow Gums on Shanahans Mountain.
On the other side of Boboyan Road near the Shanahans Mountain car park is another very rewarding walk, the Yerrabi Track to Boboyan Trig which was designed and constructed by members of the ACT National Parks Asssociation in the early 1980s.
View from Boboyan Trig to the southern border.
Tors below Boboyan Trig.
But all this has shown Namadgi in the warmer months; needless to say it's not always like this! So let me end with a couple of photos from a June walk on the Square Rock Walking Track, in the centre of Namadgi by the Corin Dam Road.



Ah Namadgi, I still hope we can leave you in good condition when we go. I'm not wildly optimistic, but maybe nature can yet adapt to us or even perhaps we can still begin to do the right thing by her. Meantime I hope this post has brought you some happy memories at a time when I think we all need them. Next time, some Namadgi wildflowers from years past, in place of the ones we're missing this season.

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2 comments:

SWalrus said...

Wonderful to see these photos Ian, hope there are many more photo opportunities as we, and the environment adjust to the new normal.

Ian Fraser said...

Thank you. At the moment hope is all we have available to keep us going it seems.