This text was read by OCR from a scanned newsletter and has not been proofread yet, so expect odd characters and mistakes.
FY 2nd June; 18 independent sane persons and the weather report indicated that the Queen’s Birthday would not be the best for tramping, 4 of the 7 original group had dropped by the wayside - my last attempt to avoid the endurance was waiting in the wrong place at the Railway Station - still, I was spotted and found myself in a mobile padded cell, the very comfy “Duchess”.
I wasn’t really very sure of where these “Ruahines” were, who I was going with, and whether a relaxing weekend with a book in bed would — trampers.. Anyway, it_was very” ably classified racisb: We hadtunchbe a better idea. On Saturday moming when| awoke to the sound of rain on the tin roof I felt sure the latter would have been the best option!
However, nothing ventured, nothing gained, so having breakfasted in the: truck (very generous offers from Roger who obviously had found apples going cheap somewhere and was desperately trying to flog them off) the three of us on the medium trip left the derelict settlement at the Makaroro River with the fit team (jo inher new boots!) We were heading up towards Parks Peak Hut.
Of course, true to all New Zealand tramping that I’ve done (which admittedly isn’t much), the first day consists of anuphill grunt - orin fact a plethora of sounds which one tries to disguise whensupposedly conducting a “nonbreathless” conversation with fellow pictureskew - we had a few botany discussions - moss and lancewoods are fascinating when you need a break -in fact who needs a break; did youknow that the podocarpic acid in the heartwood of rimu can increase the flow of bile? - a useful tip for the gourmet weekends.
By Kara Mulvein
The snow (predicted to fall as low as 800m in the forecast) added a magical quality to the trog up the hill and frequently the bush opened out to afford spectacular views down the valley as we were crunching through the snow with the pale sun trying to reach through. ‘Twas magic!
We arrived at Parks Peak Hut in about 372 hours. No shortage of billies or cooking utensils there, and a few empty bottles of good wine too! Four bunks and plenty of room (by Bengali standards - sorry, that’s probthere and discovered that John had not followed the strict menu instructions of our leader - the implications on our evening meal would only be revealed later!
It was then an easy walk to the Upper Makaroro Hut where John collected wood and built a stonking fire while
I exercised pyromaniac tendencies with the billy and Greg whisked up a quick cheesecake. Despite John’s deviance from menu planning he did supply alarge quantity of garlic which is always essential in secluded areas to ward off evil spirits and the Asian flu. Unfortunately the garlic did not have the desired effect on a rather persistent possum who obviously intended to share the warmth of the hut. However, he hadn’t helped collect wood so was left out in the cold!
Sunday was intended as a day of rest not a 122 hour tramp with the last 3 hours inthe light (in the light, in the light -morale booster) of the silvery moon. Fortunately, we left the hut fortified with porridge and had the gentle warm-up of a vertical ascent of Totara
Spur. Two hours later, at the bush edge, more clothing was donned, a small amount of sustenance thrown down, and mean faces adopted as we prepared to negotiate the ridge in 8 - 9 inches of snow and horizontal snow flurries to follow. We seemed to walk for an awfully long time (in fact we did) but were quite happy doing so; we knew where we were and made slow but steady progress towards Colenso Spur where we descended from the ridge - in the early evening). There were no botany discussions on the ridge; there was no lunch on the ridge, and no specie views - but at leastit was snowing and not raining, so who cares! Walking down Colenso Spur in darkness was interesting - makes you appreciate all your faculties - I think everyone should be made to do it. As we approached Barlow Hut I! thought my sense of smell was hallucinating - woodsmoke, a warm hut, a brew awaiting. No, the mushrooms weren't magic - the fits had arrived before us (well, they would by the time it was 8.30pm) - another luxury dinner awaited, ending with Xmas cakes and custard - YUM!
Monday - Happy Birthday Lizzie (who? Ed. and off back to the Duchess down the Makaroro River. Glorious day, fab river cliffs, and 35 river crossings - but who’s counting - same route as the fit trip so read that report! Allin all a very varied and interesting trip. The weather was okay and I've decided small groups are easier - I only have to convince two people to stop for all my photos! “(At MOT OME FOR GOSSIP BUT...