With Cuddles and Crusty in the Great Outdoors -

NW Nelson,June-July, Kirsty Richards

Ably led by Richard "Cuddles" Haverkamp,our group,one of the two easy-medium groups,established itself very early on as one of an "easy" nature rather than "medium" - keeping up the good,traditional club spirit! Barely a few metres down the track on the first day,Victor "Smooch" Strang (by the way,the nicknames of these poor, innocent young gentlemen are not designed to raise in the reader's mind any doubt as to why they were on this tramp;they are there to confirm it)... came down with a bloody nose. This was not caused by poor group relations and friction turning to violence,or Richard's answer to threats of strike action -these all came later on ( just joshin' there). No,dear readers,it was caused by an inability to cope with the elements...a problem common to most Chem students and hockey players ! Thus,our first rest stop came practically before we'd had time to get our packs properly adjusted... So,to all those who back nervously away from an "easy-medium" tramp - don't!

Speaking of stops...the vtn tended to make several stops on its way up Graham Rd to Flora, Saddle,and on one of these "stops" (ie all out and push) I can remember a certain Chris Hardly-a-hardy-man being piggybacked by your humble narrator up this gravel track (Gees it was steep. Must've had a gradient of at leaat 50 degrees-fair dink!) Weight differences will remain buried...however,I fear there has already been a ressurection of these facts.

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We slept,or should I say:"We remained in horizontal positions",the first night under a rock bivvy. These were really unique things,common to this area,which consisted of a massive overhang of rock,under which the forestry workers had installed wooden frames for bunks - and mattresses! It was like running into a five-star pub out bush (except they didn't have any beer). So we got into our pits at about ten,and got into some mild conversation,joke-telling and singing...which by midnight had turned to rather bawdy singing and joke-telling...which by two had deteriorated to bloody chronic joke-telling! (Nigel "Squelch" Fitzpatrick could be quoted here,but him being my "Dad" I'll preserve his dignity). Consequently,by about three poor Belinda "Bullet" Bennett practically had a migraine. And I'm sure the inquisitive cheeky wekas that joined us at dinner time packed their bags and fled the district after hearing John "Mouth" Hood's and Chris "Limpet" DeJoux's ear-splitting screaming competition at about 1.30 am (they were trying to outdo each other's echoes...little boys will indulge in these games).

The second day saw us wandering around snowy,tussocky,limestone country, investigating potholes and caves. (These sorts of potholes aren't there because the council fullas don't know when their smokos end). These potholes were quite intriguing, geographical formations...they were like great big inverted hills (that's for those who don't take geography)...oh sorry,what I mean is they're shaped like this :V (that's for tramping club members). At the bottom there were caves,one of which we managed to get into and investigate. Inside were young stalactite formations - some up to 15cm long...it was areally beautiful sight. Snow fights were a highlight of this day. Vinod Dahya (given an unmemtionable nickname from initials)...poor Vinod...happened to be the last to emerge from the cave,and while trying desperately to scramble up through the mud he was bombarded from all angles above by his loving friends. I can still see him- frantically and hopelessly trying to protect himself with waving arms and at the same time firing an incredible stream of abuse back at us!

The weather was terrible,especially crossing The Tableland...it was freezing, with horizontal rain driven by a biting wind...and there we were - eight sorry bods, silent,heads down. To any passing weka on its way out to town we must have resembled a death march in Siberia (straight out of "Dr Zhivago"). After reaching Balloon Hut in the late afternoon we settled in for a day's pit-bashing on the third day... although little pit-bashing was actually done! (Apologies for letting the club down). Instead,Balloon Hut was the charming venue for a wedding ceremony. So,to pass the time (and to keep J H quiet) your humble narrator was dragged to the alter by one John Hood,and both gave our vows in a wedding that left Chuck and Di's for dead! It was officiated at by the Hon Chris DeJoux,Vinod was the organ grinder (can't actually remember any tunes coming forth...perhaps he was grinding the wrong organ!) Nigel was my "Dad",and he gave me away in a real hurry. Victor was best man,Belinda bridesmaid,while Richard took the photos.

The men looked really suave wearing the latest in neck fashion;ie one long, smelly,four-days-on-the-hoof sock. My wedding dress was quite an innovation,also (I stress it would not have been my first choice),made of the latest plastic - the page 29see-through variety - it fit like a 44-gallon drum. The veil was "Dad's" old white farm singlet,which,straight off Nigel's back after four days emitted all sorts of strange aromas. Belinda and I were adorned with delicate bouquets of tussock and bracken while the ring - 24 carrot - was a spectacle!(well,it resembled half a spectacle). Although there was an argumant between the happy couple as to whether the divorce proceedings would go ahead this month or next,a good day was had by all.

July 1st brought brilliant weather (good on ya Hughie!),and this day was the highlight of our tramp - as far as tramping was concerned. We trudged up around Mt Peel,making a few necessary stops for young Vinod whose intestines must've unfolded during the night...cos what went in one end sure came out mighty fast the other! Down to Lake Peel,up the side of Starvation Ridge (John and Chris played more games trying to catch a goat). From the top the view was incredible - over the Cobb Reservoir and valley...and we behaved a bit like loopies here,taking snaps of everything. Nigel, John and myself managed to get nicely grazed thighs and sore behinds while testing the durability of a plastic bag on a snow bank. Exhilirating stuff - especially when you're slightly out of control and facing uphill instead of down!

Spent the night sitting around a fire outside Chaffey's Hut - a quaint,run-down little place that had all the character and charm that most modern huts lack. This clear cold night was amazing - we sat and sang songs for six hours ! Everything we could think of. The fifth day rolled along with more ritten weather,restricting our tramping plans.So we trundled back to Trilobite Hut and met up with Dave Clelland's group. I got a surprise when my group produced a bottle of Lion Brown,party hats,a cheese-cake in a frisbee,"Happy Birthday 2-Year old" cards,and a fruit and nut cake with candles on it - best birthday I've had in years. Needless to say,plenty more songs and games that night.

Heading home on the last day we stayed another night in a different rock bivvy -this one had...wait for it...a four-poster double bed and a white loo covered in green slime with something that resembled a woolworths shower curtain for a door! Talk about CLASS. Mustn't forget to mention Richard's fantastic cooking (apologies for my lack of tact in positioning this compliment in the report). Vinod makes great curry, too - we all thought it was pretty hot,but poor Vinod thought he'd left the curry powder out!

This proved to be an A1 tramp - we saw lots of beautiful country and had a great time together. Poor old Chris ("Limpet") had a rather sorry time after twisting his ankle...but he limped on...and it didn't seem to affect his vocal chords too greatly! (Sorry mate! Aaahh! Don't hit me!).