This text was read by OCR from a scanned newsletter and has not been proofread yet, so expect odd characters and mistakes.
15 - 17 April 1994 The weather forecast promised us a wet weekend in the SouthIsland. thought to myself, “Ohno, not another wet weekend in the bush!” So, off we set into the wild blue yonder, The rocking motion of the ferry got to a few of the punters, and so did the taxi ride. Those feeling the worst chose window seats just in case they wanted to inspect the road at a moment's notice, just to make sure it was still there, if you know what I mean. Finally the roadend was reached and we set off into the night, a new experience for some of my punters. After a wee walk, we came across the designated campsite, toilets and all. I personally wanted to camp down by the water's edge, a nice spot although a tad windy perhaps. However, I was out-voted by the rest of the party who just walked off to a campsite they had chosen. After a practise session in putting up flies, we kipped down for the night .. . Jo made her usual complaint of some rumbling sounds she heard during the night; I personally did not hear a thing! The next day dawned fine as! peered out frominside the fly and thought to myself, “those weather forecasters have got it wrong again!” The day tumed out to be a scorcher, too hot to luga pack around the hills, asit turned out, The heat brought out the wasps in somewhat alarmingnumbers. Ibeganto overheat and removed my shirt. Suddenly everybody reached for their sunglasses and the wasps disappeared. I wonder why?! After many spectacular views, we finally reached our destination, The Portage, where we replenished our somewhat
dehydrated bodies before heading for Cowshed Bay and its free camp ground - the best kind you know, ask Harry!! We chose a secluded spot away from the road and any possible road noise. Well, how wrong can somebody be! Not only were we buzzed by the wasps, but by a group of over-sized youngsters on those little scooters. This would not normally be a problem, but at tlo’clockat night ...!!_ not to mention waking up eyeball to eyeball with one weka, and another, which at 5.30 am decided he was a rooster, kindly gave us the most incredibly noisy wake up call one could imagine. I could have throttled it.
Another fine day dawned, and the thought of walking out and back over the same track didn't really appeal to me in the slightest, so it was decided to head over to Torea Bay andits jetty to spend the day in the sun. A few of us adventurous ones braved a swim, and the others piked on the jetty, awaiting the water tax.
I believe most of the punters enjoyed the trip although I didn’t ask. I would recommend this trip for those starting . out tramping, and not for those hardened trampers who want to escape into the real wilderness areas.
I would normally mentionmy punter’s names at this stage but I have forgotten them. I apologise, but you all know who you are.
Scribe, Woody