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The Medium Kaimanawas in May

- Catherine Alington

(not much tramping in this one,folks-ed.)

After an eventful bus ride in our luxury coach,with Alan losing his wallet and the bus getting two punctures,we picked up our two extras,Andrew and Peter Clarke. Terry and Cath's musical was born. We spent the first night in the "campground" at the road end,and set off next morning in the drizzle to climb Te Iringa Peak. David's party had left first,making as much noise as possible. Martin ("Eric" or "Moses") hustled his group off shortly afterwards,not to be outdone,while Mike "Gramps" gathered up his bunch of chooks,alias Cath,Diana,Debbie and Anthea (+Nigel and Steve). I'm still unsure what happened about that peak;I don't remember actually arriving at the top before going down. After a painfully long walk we reached The Swingbridge in time for lunch with the other groups. David's lot took off for Cascade Hut and that was them for a couple of days. Mike's chooks and Martin's gang headed off for Oamaru Hut along beautiful manicured 4-lane highways. We reached a patch of rhino-grass and sat down for a rest because according to Mike it was "at least another hour". Diana stood up and said "There's the hut",just at the top of the hill. So much for Mike's judgment. A comfortable spent by all,since the chooks had the bunkhouse.

The next day was fine,and as Mike didn't want to get his socks wet he and Diana struck a bargain - Diana carried him across the river,and he carried her pack up the hill. Later on Mike carried her pack for 5 minutes for her share of the jelly. The walk to Boyd Lodge was supposed to be 3 hours. However under Mike's superlative leadership it took 4½,as he chose to go up the wrong side of the river. But against insurmountable odds we made it,and found the 5-star Lockwood Lodge empty. Mike chose to spend the night in the chookhouse - the only male in the room. Improper suggestions were made by the resident geriatric but properly ignored by the ladies.

Next day was our rest day. No one out of pit before 9,then brew and pikelets - the whole day passed in this glorious manner. Nick took off to shoot our venison (he missed) but heard the laughter of three chooks who decided to wash their hair!! How ridiculous. Mike chased one around the water tank three times to get a photo. A day trip was at no time considered,being considered too much like a proper tramp. Instead,since a wonderful frisbee strip had been provided we made use of it,before being invaded by the two fit parties and David's medium trip who had piked miserably the day before. Everyone played frisbee soccer until it began to snow.

That evening was chaotic. A silly bunch played "Bunnies Hovering" in the corner while the rest of us gambled away our matche s at pontoon. That night was very cold but who could hesitate to leap out of bed joyously when Mike came in with his torch gathering his chookies? Eventually things came to life but as everything had frozen overnight it took a while for people to get their act together. So Mike's chooks hit the track - Cath literally,winning a chocky fish for style. Cascade Hut was our destination,going via a new track over to Cascade Stream. Finding the track was fun - everyone going everywhere,including the fit party. Eventually we found it and bowled/boogied/grunted up and over and down. It was only a short way to the hut, page 49but the race was on for the bunks. We all ended up double-bunking anyway. Since we got there early we all went for a ramble up to the river - the Tanranga-Taupo -where Lynette and Mike went for a swim ,for a bribe naturally. After discovering an amazing little hand-hewn hut we spent the rest of our time playing cards and making dinner. Towards midnight there was a bang like a gunshot - yes,you guessed it,Alan had fallen out of bed and no he was not pushed (I have this on good authority). He decided to remain on the floor,not wanting to try it again.

The next day was due to be rough - a 6 hour tramp to the Swingbridge,then a hill. We reached the bridge in a mere 4 hours,then after too much lunch Te Iringa was tackled again. Under Chris Hardiman's guidance the chooks shot up the first stretch,Mike having taken off with you-know-who. The speedy chooks collapsed halfway up and the rest of the way was conducted in a more stately manner. We got out in time to meet the bus at 5pm,which arrived at 6,then lost its headlights along the way - it had to happen. We hit Wellington at 2.30am,but I am told that everyone was only pretending to be asleep on the way home.

An Appropriate Quote:

"The positive ceases to exist when there is no negative. Activity can only be measured against inactivity; therefore to appreciate the joys of activity it is necessary to practise passivity. Hence the off-day." Frank Smythe The Valley of Flowers, 1938