October 13th, 2024Walks of the Central Highlands
With Eve Lamb
Macedon Ranges Walking Track: Sanatorium Lake to Camels Hump and Return, 9.5km
While researching possible walks in the Macedon Ranges, it’s the name that catches my eye; the Sanatorium Lake Walking Trail.
Sanatorium? … More on that later.
It forms part of the Macedon Ranges Walking Track (MRWT) and at a very leisurely 2.6 km, joins nicely with a lengthier hike up to the Camels Hump, the highest point in the Macedon Range, making a more respectable 9.5km return walk all up.
So lunch, thermos, waterproof coats, camera and backpacks sorted we head off on an almost sunny Sunday.
Traveling to the Macedon Regional Park via Woodend we start to gain elevation and encounter a phalanx of motorcyclists out to grind their pegs on the sharper Mount Macedon bends.
Turning left off the main road that continues through to leafy Macedon, we instead take the Lions Head Road and continue on past Days Picnic Ground, navigating gravel and a serious pothole or two to arrive finally at the Sanatorium Lake car park.
Nearby a group of folk are on bent knees, all turned to Mecca, for afternoon prayer.
But for us, first up is the lake. From the car park it’s a quick little saunter to the tiny lake’s edge, beside which, towering exotic conifers are impressive while the native forest too presses in around the water’s edge.
Signage provides a potted history of this little artificial water body in the bush. The lake was built around 1899 to supply water to a tuberculosis sanatorium that was located several kilometers to the south.
Perhaps it’s the predominance of shade and shadow, or perhaps some lingering ghosts of history, but I find this little aquatic feature just a tad eerie, pretty rippling forest reflections notwithstanding.
We complete a lap of the little lake and then follow the Sanatorium Eco-Tourism Trail, part of the Macedon Ranges Walking Track, on to the Days Picnic Ground that we drove past on the way here.
“Keep an eye out for horses… and stags,” advises my sturdy walking accomplice, Paddy H.
“What?”
“We’re on a shared horse path on this section, and ‘stags’ is a name given to the big old dead trees that have become hollowed. Invaluable for wildlife, micro bats and the like,” my walking companion informs.
Turns out his assertion is spot on, confirmed by information signage a bit further along the trail.
We soon part ways with the horsey section and arrive at the Days Picnic Ground for our packed lunch and coffee with free entertainment courtesy of a large Aussie-Indian group locked in fierce cricketing combat.
Fortified, we again shoulder our packs and pick up the signposted MRWT just beyond the picnic ground’s composting loo block.
From here the trail quickly leaves the picnicking day trippers behind and wends through bushland including some imposing stags.
Carefully, we cross the main road that leads to Macedon, and we continue on the other side following the trail. From here the forest increasingly comes into its own.
Splendid tall eucalyptus tower while on our left glimpses of ancient rock formations impart a sense of drama in keeping with the fact that the Camels Hump is actually the weathered remains of a mamelon – a mass of sticky lava that oozed from the earth’s crust about six million years ago.
The walk now becomes a gradual gaining of elevation and by the time we emerge from the tall forest at the Camels Hump car park my walking companion and I have both worked up a respectable sweat.
From the carpark we tackle the last 1km push up to the summit. Short but sharp. The Camels Hump is 1011 meters above sea level and we’re rewarded with sweeping views across the northern plains.
We count our lucky stars that the rain which has vaguely threatened all afternoon has receded to be replaced by cool sunlight that now adds dazzle to the far-flung vista stretching before us.
But the wind is bloody cold and boisterous and we can only stay here so long to pay our due respects.
Just before hypothermia sets in we head on back down and retrace our steps all the way back to the start point at the Sanatorium Lake carpark to find the previously prayerful have departed, and ours is the only vehicle that remains, aside from a lone motorcycle.
“What stays with you the most about this walk?” I quiz my co-walker as we drive on to Macedon, reflecting on our expedition.
“The tall forest. The poignancy of the Sanatorium and the suffering of the people who had TB. And the resonance of past Melbourne glories when this area was a summer retreat for the wealthy, when the beach wasn’t so hallowed,” he muses thoughtfully.
And I have to agree. I also think this walk provides just the right degree of exertion and variety for a decent day hike. A gnarly little slice of elevation without leaving you too smashed to enjoy a trip to the Macedon Hotel for afters.
Words & Image: Eve Lamb