This text was read by OCR from a scanned newsletter and has not been proofread yet, so expect odd characters and mistakes.
Names have not been changed fo af to ridicule and psychologically scar people far into the future. And fo... ...on a starry, starry friday night in the middle of march, a group of nervous newbies, all bright eyed and bushy-tailed, turned off their tv sets off and made their way to holdsworth lodge to learn the craft of bush.
For anyone not used to it, that first night was hell. You actually had to W AL K about 10 whole kilometres paces to the hut. And there were no gentlemen present! Well, no-one willing to carry my pack for me, anyway. No-one massaged my poor tired feet, there was no supermarket handy, there wasn’t even a shower, let alone anywhere to plug in the hairdryer! (Personal note: Bring an extension cord next time.) We settled in, grabbing the best mattresses (a bit of stealing for the tents there, Mike... and back again, Becky!) and over a cuppa (the nearest thing to civilisation the whole weekend) and discussed ways of looking after the bush. Reminder here for all trampers, even biodegradables (such as apple cores etc) should be carried back out as they attract rats, wasps, possums and bad karma. None of which is wanted on a trip into the wilds.
Following a few Easter eggs, we then put our weary heads to bed with sleep following soon after. The snorers were gentle, the queue to the ladies was non-existent (and the loo flushed!) the night was clear with beautiful views of the Milky Way and the weekend to come was full of promise.
The following morning, we were shown how to pack a pack and what all those confusing straps were for — they actually make things more comfortable when you pull the right ones in the right order! I won't be cutting them off just yet. My pack the most comfortable it had ever been since buying it, we left them behind and went for a walk in groups according to directions given by Becky. I'm very glad that Becky was on my team, because her writing was occasionally a little... indistinct, shall we say.
Becky must have snuck in some alcohol into her morning Weetbix, because we all walked ina circle and found we hadn't gone anywhere at all! And THEN we had to draw a map of what we'd seen. AND calculate our speed.
Fortunately, we swapped to a proper map and we made our way to Donnelly Flats. Waiting for us was a group of about 60 Duke of Edinburgh students. Tents were everywhere and they were cheering us on our way, the girls squealing at the flies in the long drop. We pitched the other kind of flies around the corner, well out of sight (but not out of sound!) After discussing the weather (the Coreolis effect isn’t just for bathroom sinks?), and a little compass work, and we went up a side spur up to Rocky Point Lookout. The highlight of my weekend occurred on the way, with the raucous call of the kaka to accompany us. Stunning views all around (well, maybe only 270°) with some well earned munchies.
On the way back, disaster struck when I sat down rather suddenly. (Personal note: Eat more for a softer landing.) Toward the end of the walk, we took a wee side trip to Holdsworth Lodge (better toilet facilities) and disaster struck again. Jim Kimber was heading to the hills on one of his final tramps before going home to England. (Please don’t go - who'll provide the biccies on Wed nights?) Karen must have been distracted by something, because she did a face plant on the concrete leading into the hut. Fortunately only her pride and a knee were mildly wounded.
Braving the D of E students again (all gone except an extremely strong smell of deodorant and some tents) we had a little R& R, picked out sleeping spots under the flies and started dinner. There were 3 groups: Carnivores, Vegetables and Allergies (allergies to olive oil, tuna fish and strawberries??? We must be pregnant...). The Carnivores were finished washing up by the time the Allergies finally got something to eat — evidently worthwhile food takes time to prepare... but the Carnivores were kind enough to offer chocolate rice bubble “cupcakes” to everybody. In fact, they had so many, we were still eating them when the whole weekend was over. Swimming exercises were led by Geoff for those who wanted to participate and another day was over.
The night was again clear and starry and was warm and comfortable for those who did NOT sleep at the opening of the flies. (Personal note: Sleep in the middle next time. Kill everyone in their sleep who prevents this from occurring.) Trips to the loo without a torch were made possible by a guiding rope. (Personal note: Remember to ask the warden to have a flush loo installed — with electric light and preferably carpet too.) Sunday dawned with yet another perfect blue sky and only a light breeze on the valley floor. (The two rain gods of the WT&MC were both in the area and cancelled each other out.) We wandered down to the riverside and stumbled around the dry bed, pretending we were getting wet and swept away, initially taking turns with a blindfold. Finally, the Moment of Truth. We put our packs on and walked and walked and walked. After an hour or so, we dropped down to the river again and into the gorge that shadows the track and had an early lunch. Then the real fun began. We took the riverbed back downstream (Personal note: Always stick to the marked track.)
While the rest of us managed to walk most of the way, one of us chose to show the rest how to pack float. (I'm sure it had nothing to do with height, eh Ruth?) We passed the bones of a previous Bushcrafting trip - or so we were told... And Rachel discovered why. A particularly tricky bit where you had to get your footing just right, claimed our third victim (it also got Becky, but she just got wet). Rachel soldiered on, but eventually had to take the track back, along with a few slowbies. (Personal note: Must get fit for next trip — new regime of 1,000 situps every night and bike to work every day.) Back at base, we packed up the flies and regrouped at Holdsworth Lodge for dry clothes, debriefing and tales of other trips that lost navigators during a loo stop...
Weekend Quote: “The wheels on the bus yo vound and round...” Eugenie A most enjoyable, successful trip and thank you to all the organisers, both seen and unseen, The Nervous Newbies ave now IT — Initiated Trampers. Written by Margaret Craigie