This text was read by OCR from a scanned newsletter and has not been proofread yet, so expect odd characters and mistakes.
As all who have had the good fortune of tramping with Marilyn would know, taking it Easy is an art form. An art form that many of us are on the way to perfecting after a very enjoyable weekend at Parawai Lodge.
The aim of an Easy tramp is to do it with grace not pace. Many an obstacle was thrown in our way but with some applied intelligence (or should I say ‘implied’) and many a snack break, we conquered them all.
We were confronted with our first challenge on Friday night. The Duchess had delivered us safe and sound to the roadend at Otaki Forks. We had been informed that it was only a short (five minute) jaunt to the hut so we kicked back, relaxed, and left our lives in the hands of our fearless leader. We managed to traverse the tramping equivalent of the Sydney Harbour Bridge before someone asked the inevitable question, “So which way to the hut, Marilyn?” The puzzled look on Marilyn's face said it all.
Once we arrived at the hut, a bit later than we expected, tents were pitched, the billy boiled, and yarns were told. There were ten-in_our.group;-four-from. the Queen's country, five from God’s country, and one from over the ditch. We fell asleep to the sound of raindrops on the roof.
We woke up to the sound of raindrops on the roof. Then with bleary eyes cleared we hit the track. Twenty minutes into our journey we came across some old machinery relics left over from the days when the forests were logged. This provided the ideal setting for our first stop. The weather was clearing so layers were peeled. Our resident engineer gave an interesting overview of the - nineteenth century technology that lay before us and then we were once again on our way.
The track followed the Waiotauru River. Occasionally a break in the trees would reveal sensational valley views set in a hundred shades of green. The mist and rain only added to the feeling of the area. With boots muddied and legs weary we settled for lunch under a clump of tree ferns.
We had planned to walk back to the hut along the same track. However, the scent of challenge led us to the river and what better way to feel at one with nature than to go waist deep in icy cold water. So for the next few hours we criss-crossed our way down the river. Spirits were high and so were the --Vvoices.—_lt-was-one-of-those-af-— ternoons where you think ‘what on earth am I doing here’ But when you are back at the hut, warm, dry and cosy you can reflect on how much fun you have had and enjoy that satisfying feeling of physical exhaustion.
With bellies full and chores done we settled around the blazing fire for a chat. Peter thought he would take a moment to have a quiet read of a “men’s” magazine he had brought with him. The sharing, caring attitude of his fellow trampers meant the magazine quickly became communal property and provided hours of entertainment as the group discovered the do’s and don’ts of being a sensitive, new age bloke.
To Easy trampers Sundays are sacred. It seems everyone has a special way of celebrating the arrival of a Sunday. Some put on fresh socks and others have a bit of a longer scrub. Keith did it with true Easy tramping style, cooking bacon and having a pot of tea before getting out of bed.
The walk on Sunday was pretty cruisey, following an old rail line up toward Waitewaewae Hut Lunch was on a quiet grassy patch near a sidestream. Rest stops were proposed whenever the sun managed to break through the clouds. It was the ideal way to rejuvenate the soul.
The Easy trampers returned to -reality-at-about-2pm--Trampers——-—— from all corners began to converge on the hut telling stories of wild and rugged weekends. We cleaned the hut and walked back to the Duchess, this time taking the direct route, ready for the journey home.
A brilliant weekend was topped off by arefreshment stop at the ice cream factory on the way home. The group was entertained by the ice cream-eating antics of the English, and that magazine emerged again for a few more giggles.
Congratulations Marilyn on your
first official trip as Trip Leader. A brilliant time was had by all. The proof is in the pudding. All the first timers are keen to come back for more.
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By Kirrily Dear