An Autumn Romp in the Kaimanawas (May 81)

- Terry Patterson.

Time check,7.30 am,Sunday May 10,location,Wellington Railway Station - question, what the hell am I doing here? Slowly half dead people begin to muster;the President spends most of his time collecting the frisbee off the roof of Platform 9. The bus arrives and we're away - the magical mystery tour has begun.

At Access Road 10 we meet a lonely bod - Andrew Clarke. He was lucky - only had to wait 2 hours in the rain. On arrival at the track to the Waipakihi we realise what the bloody noise has been - two flat tyres. However the best is yet to come - the bus has no jack or wheel brace! It was quite a ride down to that main highway - not only did the sound of 2 flat tyres smashing against the floor of the bus cause some concern, the ever present burning-rubber smell was quite disturbing. Finally the driver conceded defeat and stopped at the roadside somewhere between Waiouru and Turangi,and headed off to get help. Two hours,frisbee practice,a brew and pleasantries with the motoring public later we head for Turangi and further repairs. Tea for 18 in Taupo (my God,what patience we have),where we finally pick up the by now battle-weary Peter Clarke,7½ hours late. Our final destination was reached - Te Iringa roadend - tents were pitched quickly as we crashed into pit for a well earned 40 winks (was it all a nightmare I keep asking myself?).

Monday is greeted by a cold brekky (love that muesli dontya Di),followed by a quick pack and we're first away and glad to be tramping. All 3 medium parties follow the same route to Te Iringa Hut,the Swing Bridge and lunch (thanks for the brew,Mike). After lunch our group parts company,with Martin's and Mike's heading towards Oamaru Lodge. Firelighting that night proves a very tedious business,but full marks to David for persistence.

Next morning the track is covered in many places by windfalls making my favourite pastime of keeping my feet dry somewhat hazardous. The track continues to be easy going as we pass over Kaipo Saddle - hardly noticing the climb. In the distance our goal is spotted,but to our dismay McNutts Hut is locked and it's another night under the fly. The presence of rain forces us to hit pit early though conversation runs on long after midnight.

Morn strikes and in the cold and damp all are quick to shift the pog and get moving. Hughie was to prove just how big a bastard he can be as we made our way down the flat from McNutt to Boyds. Travel was generally fast over the tussock except for the ever changing weather. First cloudy so three layers of wool and mitts,then sunny,so off with a layer,only to follow with snow - thus full wet weather gear. This continued all the way down interrupted only by numerous attacks on the body, Firstly Fiona decided page 14to try sitting in the mud. Next Sue tried to left hook Diane with her pack - almost succeeded in a TKO - better luck next time Sue. Then followed yours truly disappearing in a swamp up to the waist;this practice was also enjoyed by Diane who along with Sue seemed to delight in finding holes to drop into. Next big boss David unsuccessfully tried to break his ankle - even repeated the attack a bit further on.

Lunch was shared with the snow,numb fingers making frozen honey difficult to spread. Boyd Lodge was,as expected,already occupied by the other two medium trips and one of the fit parties. That night saw our party split for the one and only time. The floor of Boyd's was taken in preference to the ice cold tent by 50% of the party, only to realise just how hard a floor is to sleep on. Even more concerning is to wake up in a kitchen full of people climbing all over you - still,that's life. We,being last to depart,had the joy of cleaning up,finding several pieces of club gear left behind and billies unwashed.

After bushbashing up to Waitawhero Saddle we found the going down the Oamaru River quite pleasant,making good time. Lunch was enjoyed in the sun for the first time although the cold was still present. The combined effect of sunshine,excess energy and continuing team spirit led to 40 minutes of sheer lunacy. Fiona made the mistake of taking off her boots,which provided the ammunition for a "toss the tramping boot" competition. This madness was continued as we fitted streamlined toi-tois to our packs and tramped off to Oamaru,where we found Chris deJoux's fit party. As there wasn't enough room in the hut for all of us we pitched camp down on the flat. This time we had a superb fire and as the evening progressed we ate our way through mac cheese,ginger cake and pud plus marshmellows and two brews. An intense discussion of politics,people and power followed with no startling conclusions being reached. By the time we hit pit we were all too stuffed to carry on.

Next morning in our eagerness to beat frozen boots and socks some people fell victim to burnt gear (fire damage seems to hit my gear quite hard!). Packing wasn't rushed as we savoured the warmth of the sun till cold toes finally drove us on. The family that kept passing us that day must have wondered about our appetites,as they invariably came across us when we were stopped for an eating session. Lunch was a shortish affair due to the cold,except for David and Fiona,whose appetites seemed incredibly large. The track from the swingbridge to Te Iringa Hut was quite a grunt given the rather gentle nature of our travels thus far but we tackled it in good time arriving at the hut to be met by yon family - this time they were eating! Hughie at this point decided to have one final go at us but the rain stayed away long enough for us to reach the carpark without coats - which was fortunate as David had left his at Boyds! Our group was the first to arrive and we did so together,the way we had stayed over the past five days.

The journey home was just as long aa the one up. Fortunately only the lights failed on the way to Taupo,where drinks were consumed rather quickly as our presence wasn't exactly welcomed by the patrons. The clientele at our Turangi stop were equally strange. As the bus departed from Platform 9 the dream became reality as Chris Hardiman and yours truly headed for the Upper Hutt train. A shower and some page 15food saw the time hit 6am before I collapsed into pit for several days worth of sleep.

The trip was quite brilliant due to a strong team spirit,plenty of food and David's leadership. Special thanks to David for his patience and Peter Mansell for making May 1981 possible.

Medium One was : David (Big boss) Clelland, Fiona (Gannet) Clendon-Clelland, Sue Marshall. Peter Clarke,"Lady Di" Imus,and Terry Patterson.