This text was read by OCR from a scanned newsletter and has not been proofread yet, so expect odd characters and mistakes.
Trip Leader: Lyndsay Fletcher
Crew: Robert Cross, Stuart Palmer, Gerard Galvin, Peggy Christianson, and Daniel Meares (= words).
_ Way back in January, Lyndsay led a four day trip down to Lewis Pass over Wellington Anniversary weekend. Here’s what happened. We had some pretty fit and keen trampers along, so we had high expectations. Wesailed south on Thursday evening, ona calm crossing and with a clear sky, and then caught a shuttle. At about 2 in the moming, the driver dropped us off at Palmer ~ Lodge on the Lewis Pass Highway. I told Stuart it was nice of him to let us sleep in his hut. We slept under the leanto round the back, squeezing in over the broken wood chips and sawdust. Just the sort of place big spiders would lurk.
Five hours later we were away. It was a so-so sort of day but we didn’t linger over breakfast since it was we who were on the sandflies’ menu! Crossing the road we headed up the Nina. The plan was to follow this river to the head, then cross over into the
Doubtful Valley and do a bigloop around the tops. I think.
Gently climbing through beech trees on a nice even track with some flowers, by the side of a river was very pleasant. There were no wasps and no other people. What less could you ask for! No-one had said anything but I hadan eye onthe weather to see which way it was going to tum. It started to drizzle.
We broke forlunch at Nina Biv out of the rain. The air was clean and fresh and the country open and inspiring.
After, we pushed on up the Nina onto the head. We were climbing and the river gathered pace. That was exciting. Lyndsay pointed out glaciated valleys and moraine.
We pushed on until it was time to camp. After a recce, we decided just across the river from where we stood was best, ona small soft flat, barely big enough for the fly. You were right next to the rush of the water. While Robert cooked up a delightful spaghetti bolognaise, we helped Lyndsay with the fire (we collected the wood). It had been a good day. Next day was good too. For a start, it was my birthday.
Today we would get into the high country. The river ~ flowed faster in the steeper terrain and with power that it lacked in the valley.
We followed a steep, well-defined deer track up through the bush. Here and there you got open views over the ranges and the country. Everywhere was high up, and you felt it.
Above the bush line, the wind really started to pick up. We stopped and put on our windbreakers. Ahead, a stream gorged its way through the land, splitting the scene in two. Seeing the “steam spray”, we though maybe we had discovered some natural hot springs on the windy tops. Nope. It was simply spray being blown high into the sky by the wind funnelled up the deep gorge of the stream.
Close to the tops it was really windy. Peggy and! crawled our way up, rushing from tussock to tussock to stop ourselves being blown away. We finally made it to the top and caught up with the rest of the group, and caught our breathin a relatively sheltered spot. The weather was too foul tostay highso we dropped down to the Doubtful River valley, one over from the Nina.
We were cold, wet, and hungry as we headed down to the protection of the bush. It was time for Lyndsay to use his “special techniques” to light a fire in the rain. The fire, lunch, and brew lifted our spirits.
We went on to follow the Doubtful River. There were gorges all the way down. You had to cross the river endless times or bush bash up and over. Robert went on ahead while Peggy and I followed Lyndsay at the back.
Not knowing better, ! found myself “water-squashed” against a log in the river. My pack was pulling me down as thousands of gallons of water rushed past. Peggy, from the safety of the shore, lifted my pack away and I managed to push myself vertically up onto the log and clear of the water flow. I was safe. Lyndsay was not impressed.
Once the river flattened out, we soon arrived at the hut, at about four. Robert had the brew and fire prepared. Thankfully, there was no-one else there and just enough bunks. We enjoyed the dry. Now I had the chance to cook up the billy full of vegies that had been weighing me down so heavily. The Cous Cous was good, even if l say so myself. And a great place and people to celebrate a birthday with.
As we dined, the Kiwi Conservation Corps arrived, washed out, looking for shelter. Their leader was disappointed that the hut was full. She told them to camp as best they couldin the surrounding marsh - and after some food, to go looking for kiwis - which I don’t believe any of them had the slightest intention of doing. After warming themselves, they left. I felt sorry for them. One couple snuck back to the hut when the coast was clear and took the last bunk. The ground was too sodden to camp.
We gave them some food and birthday cake. Sunday morning we followed the Doubtful down to the flats. There were cows and it was pastoral. The sole of Peggy’s boot was halfway off. I tied it on withsome nylon cord which did the job.
We headed back over the range we had come from. There was some confusion while we searched for a bivvy. We wanted to find it because we were cold, wet, and hungry again. Gerard and I both had red, sore chaffing from wet shorts rubbing all day long. We found the bivvy and huddled close to the stove,