This text was read by OCR from a scanned newsletter and has not been proofread yet, so expect odd characters and mistakes.
A group of five departed from the Railway Station at some early hour of Saturday morning to go to Ohau in the Tararuas with the promise that for some of us, it would prove to be our first trip with the Club free of the added incentive of rain to keep us moving.
It wasn’t long before we found ourselves on the dirt track to our destination. As we passed what looked like a rickety sus-: pension footbridge, our leader, Wendy, informed the driver, Dan, that we were intending to drive the car over the aforementioned bridge. The bridge was wider and more sturdy than it appeared from the track. It was just wide enough to take a large car, and we waited on the __other side for Chris and. Ray. to arrive in the other car. Wendy was distinctly heard to crow that we should trust our leader because she knew what she was doing.
There was a small carpark two minutes drive from the bridge,
Page 10 a
10 - 11 FEBRUARY 1996
By Phillip Drew
where we left the cars. At this point Wendy filled in the route book and promptly headed off in the wrong direction. The error was quickly spotted and we went back the 10 metres to the stile at the start of the footpath. At this point, I realised that I had left my coat in the car and had to go back to get it. I had also left a copy of the road code. Not quite up to Peter’s “Yuck” magazine of previous trips, but I thought I had a test the following Wednesday and would only allow myself to go on the trip if I took the code to read. Finally we succeeded in completing what is often, for me at least, the most difficult part of a trip - getting out of the carpark. We had a short stretch of open grassland to cover before the bush started. After about an hour of gentle ups and downs in, we arrived at Ohau Shelter, which had clearly seen better days. The weather was fine and sunny - honest it was - so we made our way to the river and started up stream, stopping for an early lunch. As we made our way on after lunch, I had to remind myself several times that I should stop to look at the view occasionally, rather than just watching where I placed my feet. The rewards of a wonderful view were there to be taken when I remembered.
After another three hour’s travel and a generous rest in the sun, we arrived at North Ohau Hut. The hut looked far less inviting than a grassy patch near the river, so we decided to pitch the fly there. As we brushed past, the hook grass seemed to shoot out and embed itself in the hairy male legs. Now that we had stopped; I looked-out-on the view and remarked how hard it was to believe that there were still views available anywhere that were unmarked by human endeavour - at least to the uneducated eye - let alone, in driving distance of a national capital.
The following morning was cloudy but dry. After breakfast we packed up ad retraced our steps down the river, meeting only three other people all day. Back at the carpark, it was agreed that an excellent weekend had been had by all, and Wendy had once again proved herself to be a remarkable leader. I would personally sell my house, my car, or my wife to go on a Wendy-led trip in the future.