Every distillery has a story behind its water source. Ours just happens to involve gold miners, bush tramways, leeches... and one small creek that's still shaping every whisky we make.

Every drop of water used to make Kinglake whisky begins its journey in Chyser Creek.

That doesn't just mean the water that becomes part of the whisky itself. It also supplies almost every stage of production, from mashing and cooling to cleaning equipment. On a typical production day, around 30,000 litres of water pass through the distillery, all beginning in the same small creek that rises on the edge of our property.

Although it feels like a quiet bush stream today, Chyser Creek has witnessed much of Kinglake's history.

Back in the late 1800s, this part of Victoria was swept up in the gold rush. Long before Kinglake became Kinglake, it was known as Mountain Rush, and prospectors spread across the ranges searching every gully and creek for alluvial gold.

Local folklore says that one of those groups was made up of German miners who spent time working along this creek. Unfortunately for them, they found very little gold. Legend has it that, frustrated by their lack of success, they christened it "Scheisser Creek." Thankfully, over the years the name softened into the rather more respectable Chyser Creek!

Whether the story is entirely true or not, there are certainly reminders of those early prospectors still scattered across the property. Just below our dam, hidden beneath the trees, are the remains of old mine shafts dug more than a century ago by people hoping to strike it rich.

The creek itself begins from a spring that rises just on the boundary of our land. Even through the hottest summers, it continues to flow. After leaving our property it winds through neighbouring farmland before disappearing into the state forest, eventually emerging again several kilometres downstream near the Flowerdale Road.

When the gold began to run out, Kinglake's next boom arrived.

The towering mountain ash forests became enormously valuable for supplying timber to the rapidly growing city of Melbourne. Old maps show logging tramways criss-crossing the hills, including one that supposedly followed Chyser Creek through the forest.

Naturally, Chantal and I couldn't resist trying to find it.

Looking at the map, it appeared to be a pleasant three or four kilometre walk through the bush. We confidently set off one morning imagining we'd be home in time for lunch. Several hours, countless fallen trees and more leeches than I'd care to remember later, we finally emerged wondering how such a short distance could have taken so long.

We never found the tramway.

Many of those early logging lines were built from timber rather than steel, and whatever remained was likely destroyed in the devastating bushfires that swept through Kinglake in 2009. The same fires also erased much of what was left of the old mining infrastructure hidden in the forest.

In a way, that's rather fitting.

Nature has gradually reclaimed the landscape, leaving behind only the occasional hint of the people who came before us.

Today, Chyser Creek continues its journey just as it has for centuries. It flows quietly through the bush, carrying with it a small part of Kinglake's history before eventually making its way downstream.

For us, it's far more than simply a source of water. It's part of the story of this place, and one of the reasons we believe our whisky could only ever be made here.