This text was read by OCR from a scanned newsletter and has not been proofread yet, so expect odd characters and mistakes.
BY DANIEL MEARES We went to the Ruahines. Don't ask me which bit - I haven't a clue Stuart Palmer, Harry Smith or Robert Cross can tell you that, but not me. I can tell you it was beautiful though. oo Where to start? We started by going across a a mechanically operated cable car which went, say, 150 metres across a gorge. One person sat in the box and people at either end wheeled you across the river. For me, only recently arived in this country, it was a first. And fun too. After this novelty, we started by (surprise surprise) a long uphill climb to the tops. Of course, being ftw we eventually got there, emerging from the bush into a clear expanse of high altitude snow, so you realised you had left the ‘lower world" behind. Crystal white mountains stretched into the distance. - the way we were headed. The air was as thin, I thought, but I must have been imagining it! Shortly after this, we broke for a rest at a small tan where Lyndsay (FE Tip) and Robert and others played a game of hurling in a friendly competitive way, sliding snowballs the length of the frozen surface. Others, myself included, cracked the ice and topped up our depleted water bottles.
Leaving the tarn behind, we continued our steep ascent with clear views for miles around. We were up to our ankles in snow and at times had to negotiate treacherous. Spaniard grass. Still we pressed on, of course, to the local . high spot where we stopped for lunch and where the FE party joined us not too much later. (In fact, we had all” wanted to go on Anita's original FE trip but it was full. Fortunately, however, Stuart was courageous enough ‘and ~ motivated enough to organise this: alternative FE trip - nominally a ‘Fit: trip - at short notice, at the previous Wednesday's Club meeting). ~ Even though the sun was shining, it was still cold and a little breezy, so it was not long before we decided to move on. The hard work was behind us. We looked forward to along aftemoon of stepping out across:the tops. What fun! Breaking the snow crust, and leaving only our footprints behind we sprang across the barren beauty of this white landscape. . The FE trip hounded us across the tops as we went, doggedly following our tracks and giving us no ground. Pitting our skinny legs against: their chunky thighs and aerobically conditioned physiques, we knew we were no match for them. Or at least that's what we thought! 7 We stuck to the high ground and tramped for some time until eventually we'came to a 12 foot high wooden cross, laden thick with icicles and looking like something out of a Russian movie. Harry took photos of our group here and Im sure he would be happy to show. you them. , Here we parted company with the’ FE’s and, saying our goodbyes, made ¢ our way down ‘ a steep ‘cheek ' to our intended camp, 20 minutes downstream of Waterfall Hut ‘The route was ‘treacherous, however. Because it was 7 - winter, the sun was low and never had a ‘chance to thaw this part of the mountain. ‘It Was how that we ‘wished we - _ had our ice-axes which were back at the Duchess!!! Page io
Robert fell, head first, sliding over a small bluff and grazing himself over some rocks. He put on a brave face but there's no doubt that it hurt. Sensibly, Stuart and Harry tried a safer alternative route. I! was confident I could descend this steep part if 1 could just make those 3 metres to that..... aargh..... I fell and scraped my behind and leg on some rocks.
We limped on home, to our camp site by the river. We made camp, lit a fire and enjoyed a hot meal that was filling even by tramper's standards. And this was followed by an impromptu dessert, delicious all the same, of home-made banana cake, pineapple and custard. Harry and Stuart made a brief excursion to Waterfall Hut. Robert and I nursed our wounds.
The night was clear and starry and we fell peacefully asleep to the sound of the river. Apart from a horrific nightmare induced by my wounded leg, the night was uneventful. We woke to blue skies - but to a sun that would not shine down into the dark valleys where we would be tramping for many hours to come.
We melted (?) our frozen-solid socks and boots by soaking them in the river. Then on, downriver, in the river. Once again the FE's were on our trail. It was a long wet slog. At one point we had to strip and carry our packs head-high as we waded through deep water. But we made it well enough.
I can't remember what happened after we left the river. It's a sort of blur. I remember walking uphill for hours. Then a brief respite in the sun and now steeply downhill (Stuart hammering his toes against the end of his too-small boots - he has a pair for sale if you're interested) all the way back to the cable car. We had made it - and even though we were two hours late, we were safe. Robert and I were going to survive.
Trip Members: — Stuart Palmer (Leader), Robert Cross, Harry Smith and Daniel Meares.