This text was read by OCR from a scanned newsletter and has not been proofread yet, so expect odd characters and mistakes.
IN THE RUAFINES O« group of Medium trampers bundled into the Duchess on Friday night, along with Lisa’s party of Mediums and a large bunch of Fits. Special attention must go to Andrew, fresh off the plane from Frankfurt but raring to go (or was that afraid not to!).
On the otherwise uneventful trip Ruahine-wards we were
By Nick Wood lucky enough to have some inflight entertainment:— “The Further Exploits of Neville Ashley” as narrated by guess who! Unfortunately for many, there was no seat-side volume control. Nevertheless, after only 2 hours 45 minutes and 55 seconds, our storyteller ran out of hot air and turned comatose.
About elevenish, our driver performed a bit of downhill reversing practice and we ~founid our resting place for the night, only to discover a party from the Hutt Valley Tramping Club already in residence. Nevertheless, this was it for the night.
Dawn broke and Nola, our leader for the weekend, cracked the whip and we were away by 8:00, even beating the Fits to the blocks.
A short road bash got the legs working. The Hutt Valley’s prison-van-like-bus rumbled past along the way. We were naturally shocked and dismayed to see the other WT&MC Mediums had succumbed to the temptation of a lift. Worst of all, why hadn’t we thought of it?
Traffic on the first climb towards Longview Hut was heavy as our two parties and the HVTCs moved on up. The glorious weather, coupled with the tantalising glimpse of a sprinkling of snow on the tops ahead, was a great incentive to move on up.
Before long we were at the first peak with Longview Hut a short distance to the south. Fortunately, the Hutt Valley party headed off southwards. While Lisa’s bunch milled about, we pushed on over the Pohangina Saddle. We climbed on up a steady, but short, slog to Otumore at 1519m, with the last stretch through ankle-deep snow.
The glorious weather was holding and there was hardly a breath of wind, so along and I lazy lunch basking in the sun was in order. We were also treated to great views of Mt. Taranaki and the top of Mt. Ruapehu--peaking above the snowclad ranges to the north.
A brief discussion had us decide on dropping back down to the river valley to Daphne Hut for the night. For some, the superb weather made Howletts Hut, over on the next ridge, all the more tempting, but others nursing tired legs and the odd injury, carried the day. Shortly before we moved off, the other Mediums” arrived and promptly changed their minds from camping in the area to heading over to Howletts.
We quickly headed down along the ridge before dropping down a spur. Things slowed down as the tussock, leatherwood, and various other types of undergrowth set out to entwine, scratch, and otherwise hassle us. Even the odd hole found its mark, with Suzanne finding one just her size.
As we dropped down below the bushline, the track slowly ‘cleared, but not before Jane, tired of nursing her right hamstring, twisted her left I ankle which slowed her down, ! but fortunately wasn’t serious enough to totally take her out. Looking behind, we also saw that the other Mediums had changed their minds yet again and were following us down.
We kept heading on down with the sun slowly disappearing behind Daphne ridge. Daphne Hut was across the river at the foot of the track, at which we arrived at around 4:30pm. The hut is well designed and in good condition, but was just too much for John, who wandered muttering something about the stuff real Kiwi blokes are made of.
Ash set to with the axe and did a great job piling up a load of wood to keep us warm for the evening. Lisa and co. soon turned up. The more the merrier, as it proved to be.
Dinner of copious amounts of chicken and veges in cajun sauce with rice was soon under way and scoffed down before too long. Instant pudding with marshmallows and apricots was a very liquid affair, but tasty just the same. , The sun, fresh air, and exertions of the day were too much for most and pits beckoned, except for a keen clutch of card players.
A welcome slow start to Sunday had us moving off at about 10:00am, just as the Fits rolled on down from Black Ridge. Those still not fully awake soon were as we paddled across the icy Tukituki Stream a dozen or so times. A short climb had us at the track junction that we were to take. John and Ash had, of course, powered blindly on past. Nola dutifully ran off to haul them in, although some of us might have gladly let them work it out themselves.
Nevertheless, we were soon on our way with a gentle descent and another solid climb back up to the edge of the bush and a sunny, but coolish, lunch break. Then it was down across the farm back to the waiting Duchess.
A quickish drive back had us in Wellington early, and for my part, glad that I’d been able to enjoy such a glorious weekend out of the city with good company.
We were (alliteratively): Andrew, Ash, Jane, John, Nick, Nola, Steve and Suzanne.
[Photo captions and page text that interrupted the story:]
TRIP REPORTS
; off with a fly-in his arms,” 7