The CrossingNed Kelly Country
Such Is Life
I had been looking forward to Glenrowan from the moment I realised the route would take us through Ned Kelly country. The catch was that Day 86 took 56.9 km to get there, so I arrived after dark. Such is life.
From the moment I realised the route would take us through Glenrowan, I was excited.
Even though I had spent my first 36 years in England, I had learned about Ned Kelly as a kid and picked up more of the story through popular culture over the years. I know he is a divisive subject for some people, but in my head he had always sat somewhere around the idea of an Australian Robin Hood: more recent, more factual, and with that unmistakable metal helmet.
I loved history too. I loved Tony Robinson’s Time Team. So yes, I was definitely looking forward to Glenrowan.
First, though, I had to get there.
The day started from Lima South and moved through the sort of Victorian scenery that still felt like a complete change from the flat, exposed sections we had crossed earlier in HAA. There was sunrise through trees, little places like Swanpool, green paddocks, cows, rolling roads and enough moisture in the air to make everything feel properly Victorian.
The signs did their job as usual. Benalla. Shepparton. Wodonga. Wangaratta. Sydney. Those names were not background detail to me. Every new name made it feel like we were getting somewhere different.
There was other history along the way as well. Benalla gave us the Sir Edward “Weary” Dunlop memorial, and somewhere in that part of the day the information signs started to make it clear that we were properly in Ned Kelly country. That added something. I was walking through a story I had known about from the other side of the world.
Benalla also gave me an official welcome of sorts. Fran and Kerri pulled alongside me in their patrol car after seeing me further down the highway that morning. They were curious about what I was doing, and seemed suitably impressed that I had got there from Perth in the space of 12 weeks.
At 2:32 in the afternoon I posted a photo of the campervan ahead of me and called it “a typical view from the office”.
That was the practical side of the day. Ben and Ols up ahead, the campervan in sight, another session to get through, and Glenrowan still waiting at the end of it.
It was another long one: 56.9 kilometres across six sessions. By late afternoon Glenrowan was finally close, but daylight was almost gone. The sign said Glenrowan West six kilometres and Winton four kilometres, and the sky was already heading toward night.
It was just what it was. I had been excited about Glenrowan, but I arrived in the dark. With an early start the next morning, I would also leave in the dark.
Such is life.
I still took the photos. Glenrowan street signs. Ned Kelly signs. The post office. The hotel. Ned Kelly’s Last Stand. A giant statue in the dark. It was not quite the slow daylight wander a history fan might have hoped for, but I had walked there from Perth, so I was not going to complain too much.
The best part of the night was the welcome.
Steve and Amanda at Glenrowan Tourist and Caravan Park donated our fee to the Heart Foundation. After I had finished for the day, I popped in to say thank you. They were fantastically friendly, nice and supportive people.
Thanks guys.
After 56.9 kilometres, reaching Glenrowan mattered. Having people there turn a practical overnight stop into support for the cause made it land even better.
Images From The Day
