Mt. Wainui

"Views of Egmont and National Park peaks" were promised by the Tramping Club's syllabus to those who climbed Mt. Wainui on a recent Sunday trip. All that could be seen from the summit, however, was mist and a broken-down trig, the visibility extending approximately five yards.

As usual, however, the unfavourable elements made little or no difference to the success of the trip. The party set out from Paekakariki at 10 o'clock, and reached the summit in time for lunch, climbing along a nicely-sloped bushed ridge, and following a well-blazed track. The descent was quickly made after lunch, and the mist having appreciably cleared, some fine views of the sea-coast and the heavily-bushed sources of the Whakatiki River were obtained.

The Tramping Club's Sunday trips deserve much more popularity than they are at present enjoying. There Is nothing "tough" about these trips —they are within reach of everyone who can climb the Boulcott Street steps. Next Sunday a trip is being run to the Belmont trig and Horo-kiwi, and, as this is one of the pleasantest day tramps round Wellington. It Is hoped that numerous trampers and tramperettes will come out.

Tramping Triangle.

Two men and a girl were the only members of the Tramping Club who awoke after the Capping Ball In time to go on the Sunday trip in the vicinity or Titahi Bay.

A pleasant day was spent walking round the coast and over the hills in the direction or Plpinui Point, enlivened by intellectual discussion and splendid seascapes.

The party decided to take a short cut down to Porirua through the bush. The "short cut" proved to be deceptive, and the Sunday trippers soon round themselves fighting through tangled undergrowth and lawyer, the descent taking over two hours.

On arriving back at Porirua, the trio was interested to hear the comment or a lady sitting in a car parked by the station, who said, soto voce: "Look, dad—they'll be from the bat house!"

On the train the party met Tony Chorlton and friend. Tony had been cutting the teeth out or a stranded whale, and smelt horribly. Assisted by this odorous element, the trampers sang lustily and lewdly all the way back to Wellington.