This text was read by OCR from a scanned newsletter and has not been proofread yet, so expect odd characters and mistakes.
nniversary Weekend Sunday saw six T&Ms arrive at the Catchpool carpark at 8.00 am for a Sunday tramp to Tapokopoko and back via Paua hut. On board were: Judy Armstong, Kaisu and John Elgar, Lorraine Nielsen, Diana Strang and Lloyd Wilkin. At Paua we were to be joined by Alex Cathro, Heather Jones and Don and Ben O’Brien who had tramped in the previous day and were “weekending” there or at Riverside Hut. Don O’Brien was the leader and did the organising prior to his departure on Saturday. Sunday was perfect weatherwise when we started along the Orongorongo Track and we stopped briefly at each side track to discuss where it would take one if it was followed. The Orongorongo River was reached at about 9.30 am, and we were soon at Paua Hut where we met the others. The weekenders had some company including a couple of young T&Ms and their friends with whom Paua was being shared. A motorist was using a chainsaw in the riverbed nearby and the racket was — simply terrible.
Paua was left behind at 10.30 am and John had elected to forego the climb and instead enjoy the surrounds of the huts on the basis that the chainsaw wouldn’t keep running forever! That left nine of us headed for Tapokopoko (843m). Leader Don had previous experience of the track, which was helpful. Behind Paua the route lies through a silver beech forest and climbs gently as it swings towards the far left and the far right of a very broad spur-top. One section runs close to a clifftop above Nettle Creek. The rest of the track was hazard-free and bone-dry. Don remembered a grassy clearing which he planned as the lunch site. The narrow view from this lofty perch included Mt Baker (465m) opposite
us and on the other side of the river below. Behind Baker there was Wellington, and Judy, who had her pair of binoculars, gave us a running commentary of what she could see. While munching my sandwiches I noticed that the top flap of my Bergen was being used as an airfield by a certain type of mosquito or blowfly equipped with big thighs on each leg, and these thighs were bright gold in colour. The insects would spot something to eat, zoom off to the attack, and soon return for another sortie. They were every bit as busy as the household bluebottle but were smaller, faster, and prettier. The tranquillity was then shattered by Don, normally not the noisy type, discovering that he had been sitting on an anthill. Lunch over, we pushed on towards the summit while the track in this middle section was very steep in some places, less so in others. At 650m, I felt exhausted and arranged to stop and await the return of the party from the top. They pushed on now at a faster pace and reached the summit. Don and his scouts moved north along the Rimutaka Range first down and then up to the next bump to get close to the big slip at the head of Green Stream as Don considered that a commanding view over both sides of the range should be available from near there. However, high undergrowth obstructed all views to both east and west of the range. This was a disappointment as we had been looking forward to the tremendous views in all directions which our leader had expected. About this time, 1 walked in on the summit party, having got bored with doing nothing when only 200m short of the goal.
At the summit we sat down and munched and drank. Throughout the entire day the sun shone brightly from a cloudless sky and the expected stiff wind was absent. The shade from the canopy of trees very densely surrounding the summit cooled us off as we sat there and thought about where we were and what we should now do. Lorraine, who was seated on a log, suddenly looked concerned and said that she had just felt a sharp earthquake. It had been generated by young Ben at the other end of the same log. Ben then noticed that the metal pipe on the base trig point was unburied and therefore portable. Don was relaxing close to me and I looked at his deep blue singlet which he often wears on our tramps. It was rather full of holes and I estimated that the amount of material that was absent would exceed the amount present. I guessed that it was of sentimental value as I leaned towards him and said: “Don, your blue singlet. A treasured possession?” “Oh yes,” was the reply. He leaned over and lowered his voice and said: “you know, one day it was nearly gone. My wife Erin had it in her hand and was going to use itas a duster!” I couldn’t suppress a smile. We set off back down to Paua Hut which was reached at about 5.45 pm.
Those in residence were there to greet us. John was waiting for Kaisu and on our return those two were off like a shot to get their car out of the carpark by 8.00 pm, which they said was the gate closing time. We set off in pursuit of the Elgars, but never saw them or their car again that day. Judy is a real flyer over bush tracks, both level and steep, and many times on the Orongorongo Track Judy had to sit down and wait for the two slow coaches behind to catch up. We had time in hand and motored out before the gate closing time.
The highlight of the whole day was, in my opinion, arriving back at Paua after the climb to find the young people outside to welcome us back. Their sparkling eyes and friendly smiles will be remembered. It’s an experience that Sunday trampers don’t often get. And well done Don. Pages
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Lloyd Wilkin