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Salient. An Organ of Student Opinion at Victoria College, Wellington, N.Z. Vol. 6, No. 8 June 23, 1943

Better Luck Next Time

Better Luck Next Time

There is something about the word "snow" that makes the normal person definitely excited. (Trampers, too, for that matter—Ed.) Especially when one has had some experience with this beautiful stuff, and even more so when that experience has been in the form of skling. When fourteen enthusiasts set out for Holdsworth on King's Birthday weekend, however, the normal excitement was Bomewhat damped by the vain which had fallen during the preceding days; and this dampening was not without reason, really, because when we got there the mountain was nearly bare.

But having carried skis all the way from Wellington, they just had to be used, so with British bull-doggedness, and with what little snow there was, right up under the peak, and with the help of Bhovels and spades, we constructed a ski run. And the run was good enough for the midget McLaughlin if for nobody else—hurtling over tussocks and lord knows what, this diminutive individual made the most of it.

The arrival on Sunday of ten Boy Scouts was interesting, because of the fact that they had come equipped for conditions considerably warmer than they found. With no cooking facilities and about one sausage each, the result would have been rather pathetic had they come to an empty hut. The great Chorlton acted in his usual good samaritan manner, even to the extent of robbing his pillows of straw for the benefit of the visitors' beds; but even this did not prevent them from kicking and fighting over what blankets they did have.

Anyhow, all things considered, it was a thoroughly enjoyable trip—nobody seems to regret having carried skis all the way to Holdsworth for only a few flakes of snow.