This text was read by OCR from a scanned newsletter and has not been proofread yet, so expect odd characters and mistakes.
My first fit trip ... a silty move? That there were ten others risking it was some comtort. And Graeme assured us it wouldn't be too tough. Well we piled into the truck at 6pm - but where's Tony? Austin assured us he was definitely coming and stalled very skifully until about 6.30pm but there was still no sign. So off we went, one casualty already! Picking various bods up on the way we headed up the coast,'some of us in pleasant Friday night office drink dreams, talking, sleeping (so much room with only fourteen in the back oi the truck!) and those down the back end bouncing around sampling the low tech shock absorbers. Dinner was had in Levin - WHAT? NOT BULLS??? - and on we went, arriving in the cold and dark at a paddock strategically covered in unsavoury brown piles. The truck was parked admirably, so that I stepped straight out into one. The fit trippers hastily donned warm clothes while their isader Graeme emphatically insisted he was going to sleep in the truck with the mediums. Peer pressure is very effective, a few minutes saw us all plodding off to Heritage A
Lodge leaving only the mediums to the comfort of the Duchess. Bunks were found and pits got into, but the night's sleep (for those of us who were warm enough to get some Graeme) was shattered by high decibel snoring ... the culprit unknown. Up to frozen condensation on the windows in the morning, soon we were off up the spur towards Tunopo, snow making an appearance very soon amongst the ferns. It got thicker as we climbed, and Austin, getting rather bored with alt the white, brightened things up a bit for us by slitting her wrist (it wasn’ that bad a climb!) and leaving pretty red paiches on the snow. On reaching the ridge overtrou and parkas were donned, at least by some ... Josh soon learned the hassle of plastics and overtrou without side zips! The snow on the tops was soft and knee-deep - very considerate of some other party to plug steps for us! The cloud and wind came and went and with them the views, Taranaki and Ruapehu occasionally making an appearance. Lunch was briet due to the cold but for those of us who accepted Rex's proffered hard (!!) jubes the chewing continued for some time after we'd started walking again. They‘re probably marketed by dentists. Mid-atlernoon we reached a junction of ridges and stopped for a rest and to decide which of two huts to go to. Rex gave us a short map reading lesson and solemnly advised us 'Never follow footprints and assume they're going in the right direction’. Wise and knowledgeable, and with an undemocratic decision made on which hut we were going to, we headed off again, Rex in the lead. A short while later we were at the end of a small spur fooking at a seemingly inpenetrable mass of leatherwood, and there, about 80m across this jungle was the ridge we were meant to be on (What was that you said about following other's footsteps Rex?). We fought our way through the jeatherwood which was hell-bent on preventing any such passage, and the mandatory grovelly bit on the tramp over, the rest of the descent to Iron Gates Hut was unremarkable (except for Roger posing as an angel under the snowy trees - an unconvincing attempt indeed - the halo was missing!}. We were happy to find the hut empty and the evening passed pleasantly. Dinner was eaten, 500 played, ghost stories told, and then sleep - Rex providing the background music (7) this time..With five people sharing three mattresses at least Graeme was warm this night - quite a bit warmer than the ferret found frozen outside in the moming. Revival was attempted but to no avail. The walk back to Heritage Lodge was leisurely, lunch was eaten and then we retumed to the truck. It was now Graeme really showed his class as @ leader ... as we sat around getting changed, a car arived with a middle aged couple in it. With more than a hint of sarcasm Graeme said ' Oh look, here's Mum and Dad’, just as Stuart arose and went to greet his parents who'd driven up to say hello. Graeme's probably still disentangling his foot from his dentures ... We had expected to see the medium trip back but there was no sign of them, So, as the rain started, we snuggied into our slesping bags in the truck and amused ourselves with jokes from the ‘Bad Taste Joke Book’. We were pretty desperate for entertainment .... Increasingly concerned about the medium party we headed off to the nearest farm to phone the Chief Guide and then returned to the road end, prepared to wait another hour before panicking utterly. And there they were, wet and bedraggled, but still smiling (How much did you have to pay them Bill?). Then it was off to Levin for dinner again and home with a few bruises but not too much the worse for wear. I might even risk another fit trip sometime ... We were: Graeme, Anita, Rex, Austin, Roger, Daryl, Murray, Josh, Delmar, Stuart and me (Julia).