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Hughy Takes a Holiday - Landsborough in January

Party: Bill Stephenson (leader), Murray Ellis, Mike Heenan, and John Powell.

Eventually we reached Pukaki for the customary refreshments and change to a lower class bus. Then we roared off towards Ohau. Suddenly Burray squawked. The bus, as a consoquence, was turned round in the middle of the road, and back we roared (and rattled) to rotrieve john's and Burray's ice axos which had been left sticking in the ground by a door which bore the ourious insignia "[unclear: BAll]". Without further ado, we proceeded to Ohau and for the princely sum of a pound a head the bus took us eleven miles up the Hopkins Valley.

Permission had been granted to proceed up the Hopkins and proceed we did, after [unclear: equigravitateonelly]-partitioning party gear. Savon p.m.saw us at the Huxley Gorge, and there we camped, Mike with a large blistar.

In the Morning we abandoned thoughts of [unclear: Beanorgas] and went straight to Huxley Gorge, one hour up [gap — reason: illegible][unclear: sy] flats. [unclear: a coutinued] up the rougher North Huxley, and at 4-30 camped slap on top of Bredarick Pass in light drizzle and to the [unclear: j[gap — reason: illegible]s] of a solitary K.e. Our two tents were protected by a hastily constructed rock wall. The mess was soft and it is obviously impossible to be floaded from the top of a pass (a priori assumption).

At eight we were fronziadly digging a trench through the middle of the tent in a combination cloudburst and nor wester hurricano. This ditch and the now soggy moss were covered with schist plates, which, while uncomfortable, are dry. Loanwhile the tent want about its function of converting big, high volocity raindrops into small, low volocity ones. Hurray, with his new pit cover, as the only dry person.

Monday dawned brilliantly so we wrung out our pits and headed for Mount McKenzie. John's box-brownie took a photo of Hooker from the summit before themdist came down, but I was too late with my modern 35m version.

The descant was randered notable when John and I looked up at the and of a terrific glissade to see Mike pearing down uncertainly. Apparently the art was now to him. Off he set copying us, but without a hand over his axchead. Soon he was taking twelve-yard strides, then appeared to impotuously throw his are away, raise his arms b soochingly to heaven, then subside ignominiously into the snow. This charale was repoated in case we hadn't soon it the first time, and followed by a gober descent. The weather didn't look to promising at camp, so we spent another hour enlerging the well against another Northerly attack.

That Master of stratogy threw all his forces into a Southerly attack with snow. To were not and cold but unbeaten.

Tuesday dawned fine too. After a partial dessicate new set off for Strauchen, attacking the NorthRidge by a stward sidle of the prominent pinnacle. Lerge bluffs forced us to climb to its top, but a descent to the south was impossible, and we had to work down the west page break wall and out of a bergschrund. Another bluff forced us into a descent of step frozen snow to finally get round the pinnacle. [unclear: Cramponning] up this I noticed a draught although I should have been in the Ice of a ridge. The ridge had a hole in it, some three foot in [unclear: diameter] 10 to 15 feet below the crest.

After scroggin we climbed on all fours up a snow-down to the summit (so we had the impudence to think). It [unclear: led] us to the low and of the summit ridge. Near enough wasn't good nough so we continued over broken rock falling [gap — reason: illegible][unclear: ply] to either side. In feet there was a 300 feet overhang (deduced by the rock-timing method). [gap — reason: illegible][unclear: ik] did a union climb consisting of a descent to one side of the ridge, a penetration by a hole in it, and a traverse back to the crest. The summit was atained, a large [unclear: bairn] constructed, [unclear: ceremonies performed,] and the descent begun. Slots a cossitated a four-man reped glissade.

On arrival at camp we [unclear: packed] up and droped down to McKenzie Stream, a hanging tribut cry of the landsborough, to camp in the bush for the night as we had limited suppline of white spirits. Mike simply but loyently convulsed the party on his arrival by announcing that he had left his ice are sticking in the top of Brodorick Pass. [unclear: Input down a yeast brew and rotir][gap — reason: illegible]

Mike left at sunrise on a recovery expedition, accompanied by a reconnaissance [gap — reason: illegible] of fourteen k as. That day saw some bad bush manship and blase ignorance of the guide-book which [unclear: extended] the three-herr journey to the Landsborough to a day. Another half hour saw us in a comfortable camp at Fraser Crook. This camp [unclear: never] had a letter box, with undeliverd letters from A.U.M.C. The provious year. That lay we be reason to curse our mules, [gap — reason: illegible], [unclear: crampons,] outsize packs, to say nothing of hundred foot bluffs and [unclear: waterfalls.] The door-tracks saved us.

On Wednesday we pressed on up the Landsborough, still in reasonable weather. Just before lunchtime, a miracl. He saw a large green tent on the other side of the unfordable river. After lunch we ontered the river gorge, a jumble of her so-sized rocks, stop mossy slabs, mud and shingle slips, and near vertical bush. In stopped in inelement-looking weather, we didn't know where. A stag barked at us for a couple of hours but wouldn't come into the firelight.

Friday must have been worth at I act half a mile to us. Lurray brokea teeth, I fall down a bank, and it rained persistently. The only consolation was a foast of typical st Coast fuschies. To camped under an everhang, but shifted into the bush as the river was in high flood.

Saturday was spent round the fire in our bivvy drying out soaked sleeping bags. The river stopped a few foot below us but the din was magnificent. This must be the origin of the quote "don't cross rivers if you can hear with boulders grinding".

On Sunday, with a suspicion of blue patches, we set off bravely into the murk, but the Arthur Stream took an hour to cross, at last it fized our location. This time the tent was yellow, the bods page break comatose or deaf, and the river completely uncrossable. Hours later we deduced the Spence at the head of which was our pass, and set off to find the marked bivvy (remember, still raining). An overhang carpated with chamois dung was obvious. but we set off to find the bivvy. Relucantly we decided that chamois knew best.

[unclear: Energetic] efforts saw us with [unclear: targeted dung,] and off we went to sleep to the lulling small of ammonia.

On Wednesday the perpetual heavenly top had been switched off, and [unclear: th [gap — reason: illegible]k [gap — reason: illegible]as] were frisky and attempted to communicate.

We set off late up the Spence, and on [unclear: maching] the [unclear: glacier] saw an amazing sight. The whole circus is of massive slabs, overhanging to the sides, and generally at a stoop angle. Unable to identify any pass we set off up the asisst route to the right. This brought us out above the dobson. It realised the nevigational error and set off to traverse to Barron Saddle along the divide. The walk along the step slabs involved pack-hauling over everhangs which proved exciting with heavy loads. The steap head of the Dobson forced us over Scissera and down to the [unclear: Thr] John's Hut which we roached at a quarter to nine after seeing an impressive sunset of glerious colours backdropping the Malte Brun.

On Tuesday we justifiably rose late and went down the Mueller. The continuous avalanches off Softon impressed us.

The only knowledge we had of the area was gained from the map, and it seemed reasonable to bypass Mueller Hut and go completely by glacier. At a place called Green Rock we man into an icefall faced by a face of (funnily enough) green rock. So over the Sealy Zange we want to Mueller Hut.

Wednesday, being wat, was a hut day and we had a rictous time with six Australians.

We want out to the Hermitage on Friday and after offending the natives we bludged some food and changed. Some Yanks took a movie of us from a car.

Well, it was a wonderful trip, and at this point I justify the title by including statistics.

Number of days:	14
Number of nights:	13
Number of wet days:	7
Number of wet nights:	9

W.R.S.