N.M.Nelson Trip

Nov. 1965.

Route - Graham Valley, Flora Saddle, Flera Hut, Sal-isbury Hut, Belloon Hut, Peel Hange, down Mytton Stream to Cobb Valley, Cobb Hut, Lockett Hange, down to Waingaro River, Upper Takaka.

Three encountered hazards even before packs were hoisted, for, [unclear: braving] stormy Cock Strait on the [unclear: Aramoana] they had to resort to certain paper bags.

Tramping started on Sunday after a delicious meal provided by [unclear: Mrs] Little. We were dropped off in the Graham Valley at 3.30 P.M. The weather was fine, the packs were heavy, and hell at first. The Elore Saddle was crossed slowly and with the aid of a scroggin stop, and by the second day we reached tussock altitude and Balloon Hut. Here Andy used his talents to make a draught- board much enjoyed by all. On Tues day Andy suffered his first diff-iculty with the honey which had been wrapped up like an Egyptian mummy in innumerable plastic bags. Andy in his efforts to transfer some of the [unclear: gooey] mess into an [unclear: M&B] tin became rather sticky and frustrated, and we left [unclear: him] and his blisters to vent his wrath on old Balloon Hut (from which he chopped some firewood) while we set off on a day trip up [unclear: Mt] Arthur. However we turned back at app-roximately 4,800' because of bad weather. The next stage was the Peel Range from which we had a spectacular view, of the Cobb Reserveir.

By Wednesday we searched the Cobb Valley, having dropped down Mytton Stream from the Peel - rather tren-cherous in parts for we had [unclear: iscolculated] the gradient and it was steeper than we thought. The Cobb Valley was a mixture of beauty and unpleasantness (its swamp) we stayed one night near the Chaffey Strean in the tants and had our first experience with sandflies. On Thursday we camped above Lake Cobb in a sheltered Hollow, and here we stayed until Monday because of rain (which turned to snow on Sunday night). We entertained ourselves with reading, cards, wekas, making damper and trying to cock in the miserable rain. On Monday we spent the warnest night we had half for days in Cobb Hut. One bunk, Andy's of course, was in a precarious state with a ripped canvas page break and as I was in the bunk directly [unclear: underneath] I had a night-[unclear: mare] every [unclear: time] he turned over.

On Tuesday our original plants went astray. The going [unclear: became too] rough as we headed along the Douglas Pange toward kakape Peak so we turned back and descended a spur from the Lockett Rango into the Waingare Valley where we Camped that night. The next day, leaving Andy, who had blisters, we climbed Kakpo Peak (5804') and had a [unclear: magni]-ficent view of the Douglas and surrounding ranges. From here we noted that the Burgoo looked a rather forbidding route and we were quite glad we had not attemped it. Standey Lake also looked uninviting, being full of dead trees.

On Thursday night we reached the Stanley River, bush-bashing our way along - side the Waingero. We covered the rest of the Valley on [unclear: agreed] track which because a zig-zag trail (the old gold-mining route) as we climbed over the Takake Hills. By this time, Andy had discarded his hoots because of his blisters and was wearing 3 pairs of rapidly disintegrating socks instead. The tramp ended at the Upper Takaka Hotel where we celebrated our 'achievement' (i.e. getting to the [gap — reason: illegible][unclear: ub] before closing tune, and had dinner.

-Fred Lockwood.

Party; Chris Little (leader, Mike Heenan, and flat-[unclear: mates] Andy Haines, Murray Ellis and Fred Lockwood.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

'...And now that I have climbed and won this height,
I must trend downward through the sloping shade
And travel the bewildered tracks till night.
Yet for this hour I still may here be stayed
And see the gold air and the silver fade
And the last bird fly into the last light....'

-Dente Gabriel Rossettui.

'O' er all the hill-tops
is quite now
In all the tree-tops
Hearest thou
Hordly a breath
The birds are asleep in the trees
Wait: soon like these
Thou too shelt rest. '

-Goothe

'Sing all my body, sin
until
the mountains ring, that ring
me round
and fill
with sound
Best all my little pulses bent,
Advance,
O body poising on thy instant feet
which swift in dence uplift..'

Vincent O 'Connor 1929.