3 Rivers - Victorian High Country - Pt 3

"WHEELER CREEK" | April 2026

The final of the three rivers of this trip, and possibly my favorite out of the places I had visited.

I ended up leaving Big River in the mid afternoon on day 2 of this trip, because the third river really had my anticipation running high and I wanted to start making my way there. I wasn't sure how long the drive might take, so I decided to pack up. Trips like this are funny, on one hand I felt like I rushed, but on the other hand I felt like I spent just enough time at each river to get a feel for the places I want to get back to and target next time. I knew I wouldn't spend multiple days on one river during this trip, even though part of me wanted to do so, that wasn't part of the plan. I was on brand new water, I had limited time and I wanted to see at least three of the Victorian rivers I had read so much about.

After packing up my gear mid afternoon at Big River, I made the decision to jump in the car and head south to the sweet little town of Omeo, and make a further plan from there about where I might be able to get to that afternoon. On the way, I was able to see more of Big River as the road followed it for some time, it's a good looking river. I also drove over the renowned Cobungra River, the water was so clean and inviting and I managed a few photographs and a few lazy casts but once again, I moved on, making a promise to myself that I would return hopefully next season. There was so much good looking water in this region, it's hard to choose where to go and what to fish. Wheeler creek really was different though, it was more remote than some of the other waterways I had seen so far and I really felt the need to get there.

COLD STARTS AND MISS FIRES

As it panned out, this story almost contained four rivers, I ended up getting a few supplies in Omeo, talking to some locals about the fly fishing in the area and then headed north into a completely new system of rivers, on my way to Wheeler. As the sun started to get lower and the shadows longer I realised my original plan was going to change, it was just getting too late. So I made my way to Gibo River instead, which is on the way to Wheeler, with the hope of finding a quiet camp site. I did just that, I drove into an almost empty camping area next to the river well after dark, made some dinner, met some kind people and shared some time with them around the camp fire, swapping stories. It was the perfect way to end a great day.

The next morning I rose early to really cold conditions. I thought why not, and put on my gear and planned to give the Gibo an hour of casting, just for a look, I figured I was here and might as well and I had read that it did have a population of trout. This turned out to probably be a mistake in hindsight. The river was mostly shallow, the water was very cold in this area and the better runs were harder to find, spaced out by long slow moving pools. I did manage one very small Rainbow, which made it all worth it though. Perhaps other areas are more conducive and as usual, one day I would really like to get back here with more time. I got out after about an hour and a half and made my way further north.

INTO WHEELER

The drive into this final location got rougher and rougher the further north I traveled. A windy, corrugated dirt road that passes through some stunning and somewhat remote country to the right of Lake Dartmouth cuts its way through rugged mountains. Soon enough, I arrived at my entry point and slowly guided my car down a skinny and steep side track to allow access to the creek. At first glance the creek itself looked beautiful with clear flowing water with a mix of shale, boulders and some sand on floor. With most of the day ahead of me it took little time to get my gear together and start a bit of a trek into the creek. First impressions flooded into my head, this looked like a good trout stream. Beautiful runs broken up by deeper pockets with plenty of habitat. The water was so clean, as clean as upper Snowy Creek. But I could feel the potential here, so I tied on a dark coloured Royal Wullf dry fly, with a smaller brown pheasant tail nymph underneath, as a dropper, and started casting in this amazing location.

A FEW RUNS LATER

It took a few runs to find water that held fish and it wasn't until I ventured up stream for maybe five hundred meters from my starting point that I started to see trout. The first of those runs was waist deep and sunlit, with large boulders through the run to offer cover, with a deep, calm tail out pool that had all the hallmarks of good water for trout. I could clearly see a brown sitting in that tail out pool and it was feeding from the surface, as clear as anything. I quickly removed my dropper and made my cast with just the Royal Wulff dry, the fish looked at the dry and then swam off down stream. Not too put off, I made my way around the deep pool section and started casting into faster running water. Once again I could see a couple of blurs in the water, it was so clear, and made my first cast. A smaller Rainbow came straight to the surface about a meter from where my dry hit the water and smashed it. He went on a screaming run up stream and then back towards me and seemed like a bigger fish than what it actually was. In such healthy condition.

I managed to miss another Rainbow of around this same size from the top of the same run, the fish just never connected with the dry fly and then I never saw it again. So I moved up stream.

The next run wasn't too far and it looked really good, not quite as deep as the run prior but it had a sweet looking corridor down the center which just looked fishy. I decided to stick with just the dry fly but switched over to a slightly smaller Patch Adams pattern with a bright pink post, given the fish I had missed earlier and the reality that I had started to see medium sized Mayfly's hatching and landing on my vest. About half way through the first drift I saw these brown lips just break the surface of the water and sip in my fly. I thought this was a brown from the style of the eat and knew it was a slightly larger specimen. In general, the fish were in great condition, it made an already great afternoon even better. Both fish swam away strong, this was an immaculate system.

RUNNING OUT OF TIME

Before I knew it the light was starting get low. I am always caught out with how time can just seem to melt away when I am fly fishing, often left wondering where the day went. But that is part of the reason I enjoy this so much, just escaping into nature with only focus on my dry fly or indicator. I fished a couple of further runs with no real action but did come across a longer run that looked very promising. Over the next fourty five minutes I slowed down and made sure to put my dry fly through all of the likely looking spots. On the same Patch Adams, I once again watched as this smaller brown sipped in my dry fly with a very gentle eat, and it really rounded off the time I had spent here. Each of the fish I had caught whilst not really large, were in great condition, they were so healthy and eager to eat. It's great to drop into new water and find this type of healthy system in the mountains.

I still had a bit of time to fish the very top end of this longer run I had found, and I did see one more fish, a similar sized brown. But the fish was just looking, on three occasions it drifted under my dry fly presentation, but wouldn't eat. I tried a number of different flies but he wasn't happy with what I had put on offer. I let him be, it was time for me to leave and take the six hour drive home.

TIME TO REFLECT - "3 RIVERS - VICTORIAN HIGH COUNTRY - PT3"

I had a long drive home, back through the Snowy Mountains, it gave me plenty of time to think about the trip I had just undertaken and the reasons why I decided to drive south in the first place. To re-iterate, the 2025/26 trout season in the waters I very regularly fish in the New South Wales high country, was really tough, it had been marginally better than the year before, 2024/25, but all in all we weren't seeing many trout. I traveled to Victoria to see if I could find good water, better populations of trout and new places to further explore in the future - and I found all of that. I also found some re-assurance that some trout populations were still thriving, and that I hadn't lost my abilities as a fly fisherman, a bit redemption.

Snowy Creek was probably the quietest fishing of this trip, but it held a lot of promise and I suspect the trout are there, I just have to figure things out with more time and some re-visits. Big River was magic, that system looks pretty special, I caught the most fish there in what was a short time period. And then to finish off in Wheeler Creek, which was classic small stream mountain country fishing with amazing runs, very clear water and what I suspect to be areas that don't see huge amounts of pressure. I have fished in my regular waters for days on some trips lately and only spooked one small fish, it's concerning. But to come down to Victoria and catch reasonable numbers and see the health of the systems and the trout within them, was confidence building and a little relieving.

About an hour after leaving Wheeler Creek, I drove into a valley that I won't soon forget. I followed, to some degree, Wheeler Creek into Nariel Valley where I was pretty captivated by the rolling hills, autumn colours and the immaculate looking river running through it. the river is Wheeler Creek, all though it changes names a few times and takes on a different look and feel. It's wider and runs through farm land that offers good access to anglers. It was too late for to stop here and fish on this occasion, I needed to get home, but I did commit to returning one day soon.