After the 6:08am train from Flinders Street R/s

Some years ago, when I started my plodding odyssey, it was suggested to me that I tackle the many Rail Trails that string across those meridians near I live. These Rail Trails follow, for the most part, old railway Right of Ways and offer walks of short or long duration, generally with gentle inclines and declines, ideal for wobbly knees and moody ankles intent on reminding one of the domicile of his years. Many of the Trails have been redeveloped to cater specifically for walkers (plodders), cyclists and horse-riders with places of interest (such as old railway stations, bridges, cuttings, tunnels, information bollards etc) featured along the route.

On the eastern outskirts of Melbourne, approximately 40 kilometres (roughly 25 miles) from the City centre, is the once rural location of Lilydale. The 'dale' is nestled beneath the Dandenong Ranges and the Yarra Ranges - prominent eucalypt carpeted bulwarks that dominate the eastern flank of the suburban slouch. Close to these rolling clusters one arm of the Melbourne suburban train network ends its steel riband (after about 30 or so stations and hour's travelling time from the City). It was from Lilydale station that another railway once continued through the picturesque Yarra Valley, thereabouts following the Yarra River for a further 40 kilometres onto the bush settlement of Warburton with its imposing phalanx of forests. The Yarra Valley is notable, these days, for its orchards, vineyards and associated horticultural endeavours and is arguably one of the most beautiful locations close to Melbourne. A favourite place for daytrippers, overseas visitors and those seeking to 'get away' for a few days or a weekend.

The Lilydale to Warburton passenger & goods railway ran from 1901 (built after extensive lobbying from residents) until its untimely closure in 1965. It was not until 33 years later in 1998 that the old Right of Way re-opened as a Rail Trail and it is one of the finest, most developed, and well patronised in the Country. At weekends and in the warmer months, the Trail can be quite busy with all manner of folks enjoying its many benefits. You'll see a miasma of lycra clad types puffing on two-wheels, walkers with designer boots, kids racing ahead of their unfit parents, horses baying in the clean airs, walking groups chattering faster than they walk and babes in pseudo-Ferrari designed strollers content to be pushed along in the sunshine.

In the winter of 2008, I finally tackled the Trail for the first time, intending to complete its 40 kilometres over three very modest walks, roughly 12-15 kilometres (7-9 miles) each time. I ended up doing 32 kilometres (about 20 miles) in day (to my then astonishment, without the least ache or grumble) and within a day or two after that barrelled along the last 8 kilometres (5 miles). Now with winter 2010 into its stride, it was time to return to the Rail Trail fray and retrace my steps building upon the happy malmsey of the earlier walks. The train journey from my home on the opposite side of the suburban madness takes near on 2 hours. I'm not much of suburban Train traveller these days, (country train travel is the opposite as I enjoy such jaunts) though for the most part, with my near 5:00am start I was avoiding the claustrophobic morning 'peak period'. I did have the daily Crossword to torment me on the way (it did mercilessly) and a volume of Poetry written by Dylan Thomas to delight, irritate, baffle, enlighten, cringe and sigh with:

'The hand that signed the paper felled a city;
Five sovereign fingers taxed the breath,
Doubled the globe of the dead and halved a country:
These five kings did a king to death ...'

A shiver went down my spine (I was not cold for I was quite smug in the cocoon of the train's carriage) as my jaw dropped reading this at once wonderfully accessible yet difficult and unique poem, 'The hand that signed the paper', amongst a rummage of many.

Too, there is an essence of melancholy, seeing the bleak faces on the train. In these glum mugs, you sense a resignation to routine, their shackling by mortgage or rent, a weight of indifference through the mind numbing, crowded, rattling journey on a train system becoming disputed for reliability and safety, let alone the debatable pleasure of work induced travel.

Without too much fuss, with now only a few hardy pre-dawn souls on board, Lilydale was reached with a heavy fog mugging its textile roofed landscape. The station was abuzz with arrivals, commuters pouring out of their cars parked on massive slabs of line marked bitumen and the stumbling off moist windowed Buses, as they headed to the City on graffiti smeared trains.

Very quickly I acquired the well signposted Trail, seeing remnants of the former railway. Its old wooden sleepers slowly being consumed by the dew topped earth still visible. As the Trail began its curl to the east toward the old stations of Mount Evelyn, Wandin, Seville, Killara, (the imaginatively named) Woori Yallock, Launching Place, Yarra Junction, Millgrove and the terminus at Warburton: the fog, begrudgingly it seemed, started to lift. With this demise its grey hued layers started to flee before the rising Sun and here was the photo I wanted.

My journey continued steadily across the morning, though the day was indifferent, neither bathed in sunshine nor muted by a cataract wind. I passed many of the old stations, photographing as I went and enjoying the gentle clines as the Trail wound into forest, through town and across paddock interdicted by the occasional creek. At my reaching of Woori Yallock station, having tramped 23 kilometres, this was good enough for the day. For the next couple of hours I sat and read, sipping coffee from my thermos, munching on an occasional chocolate bar in defiance of calories (or in this metric age should that be kilojoules). I was a reluctant to leave, though a rollicking Bus ride back to Lilydale and the indifferent train journey, returned me home, the day having long disintegrated.

Like the earlier walk of two years ago on this fine Trail (also commenced through a fog laden morning), it was a terrific plod. The air was crisp with winter but not malevolent (it will be tomorrow as zippy winds along with hail, rain and thunderstorms are in the mix). So, if you are ever in Melbourne (Victoria, Australia), you'd do well to walk a part of this Trail, though bring a large sized memory card for your Camera; it'll fill up quick enough!