Snow Train Impressions
A Week-end Trip to the Tongariro National Park

(By “Slalom”)

Only five months ago was the first “Snow Train” run to National Park, but the innovation proved so popular with the younger people of Wellington—and Auckland—that those two words have now become synonymous with everything modern youth expects and appreciates in his conception of the ideal week-end holiday. Until quite recently ski-ing was generally looked upon as being beyond the means of most, but through the enterprise of the Tourist and Railways Departments in running these low cost excursions, all the thrills of this glamorous winter sport have been brought within the reach of everyone.

The “snow train” of September 16th, despite the proximity of the Dominion Day and Labour Day holidays, was no exception to its predecessors, over a hundred enthusiasts, the majority of whom had not previously been in the Tongariro National Park, making the trip to the Chateau.

Less than nine hours in the comfortable first class carriages, the journey made appreciably pleasanter by the attention and courtesy of the train crew and the Tourist Department's representatives, and the party had arrived at National Park station.

Promise of a fine week-end had been given at daybreak by a clear sky against which Ngauruhoe, in solitary majesty, was startlingly silhouetted. Expectation soon changed to disappointment, however, for a heavy mist, drifting from the north, rapidly shrouded the whole countryside with its dismal mantle. Out of the train at National Park station and into waiting buses—no bother about baggage, all of which was transported direct from van to Chateau by special lorry—followed by a ten miles drive through desolate and dripping tussock, whose flat monotony was relieved only by an occasional patch of beech, brought the Chateau into sight. Here the road-side land was suddenly transformed; the drab brown of the tussock gave way to an expanse of green turf, dotted here and there with golf markers, that reached right to the grounds of the Chateau itself.

Arrival time at the Chateau was about 7 a.m., and even at that hour the big reception room was well filled, a large party of school-girls, ready dressed for the ski-ing fields, finding amusement for themselves in the interval before breakfast.

For those who thought the snow fields too far off, the splendid nine-hole golf course was a good substitute, but most of the excursionists, come to ski, were determined to do so and all morning bus loads of be-capped and trousered figures picked their way through the fog along the rough track to the Salt Hut, where Ernst Skardarasy, Austrian ski-ing instructor and his henchman outfitted them with snow equipment and treated them to hot tea. Incidentally Skardarasy's alpine hat, plentifully adorned with various ski-ing insignia, was particularly interesting to the girls in the party, possibly presaging an extraordinary trend in women's hat fashions in the near future.

Snow conditions weren't the best for

(Photo., courtesy A. A. Kirk.)
In the Tongariro National Park after a recent snowfall.

ski-ing, clear weather for several days before having caused the surface to become glazed, but even sundry dives through this ice-like crust could not affect the keenness of the novices who sped down and walked up the snow slopes all day long. Tired but happy they found the Chateau's night life an exhilarating stimulant, entertainment of some form or another keeping most of them up until midnight.

In the early hours of Sunday, snow began to fall and by breakfast time the surrounding countryside was covered with a six inch coating—an open invitation to snow-fights which were waged around the Chateau all day. The fall continued intermittently, luring a large number to the basins and slopes above Salt Hut where, with the help of Skardarasy and his guides, beginners became near proficient and vied with the experts in performing all sorts of manoeuvres that usually ended in a heap on the snow.

Many of the visitors, instead of skiing, tramped about the Park, Taranaki Falls attracting quite a number, others doing the Silica Springs and Whaka-papanui Gorge side-trips.

Dinner preceded another round of enjoyment that continued for the “snow-trainers” until ten o'clock, when the unwelcome call to buses came. An hour later, with most of its load already asleep, the “special” pulled out of National Park station on its eight hour run to the city.

“'Sno good,” punned one wit as he left the train at Wellington the following morning and his humorous dejection at the thought of the week-end finished, surely had its counterpart in the minds of the others.