Tramping

Mount Miter - 2nd and 3rd June

In a high wind and driving mist, seventeen of the Tramping Club men climbed [unclear: Mt.] [unclear: Mitre] in the Northern Tararuas. Conditions were a little cold but there was less snow than might have been expected and this was mainly a sort of wind sleet on the [unclear: lee] side of the ridges.

We went into the hills from Masterton. The drives had been very pleasant in the sunshine, and the old men kept us [unclear: amused] with their singing.

Our real business began with a climb up a very high, while Rex pointed out how very much easier it would be if the track followed the [unclear: Waingawa] River through the gorge. After about 2½ hours scrambling through the bush we dropped down to the river and in another half-hour we were at Mitre Flats Hut- but- on the wrong side of the river. Some of us tried to cross on the remaining stands of [unclear: the] old wire brid go, but these who just waded were the less wet in the end.

We passed the evening in story and song. Conversation on politics and war was forbidden but we found another subject of common interest. There were several amusing incidents. page break At intervals Stewart, roaming round inside the hut looking for more stew or a frying pan to pull to pieces, would bang his head on a sort of hanging shelf. There were also interesting tangles of humanity on the bunks, and every now and then a powerful voice would demand "What's a-going' on round here?"

But the night was just too too Devine. We were prevented from sleeping by a plaintive [unclear: screetching] "cats on the roof-tops... cats on the tiles..." It was no use pleading [unclear: to Stewart] and violence could only make him change his [unclear: tune]. He became interested in the stars and pulled the tent down in the cause and course of astronomy. At five past twelve he first began to wish us all good morning - most amiably. He was very hurt whom MacCroary misunderstood him.

But at least no-one slept in. Gurth and Paul got up at two o' clock to make our breakfast, and we were climbing before six. We were rewarded by a very fine sunrise, and a little above the bush-line we surprised a magnificent rod door stag.

We were now climbing into the mist and the wind was very, cold and strong enough to make the [unclear: steeper] parts of the ridges quite tricky. The summit was much like any other snow-covered summit in the mist.

On the descent we salubriated in the sun, fooding and admiring the view of the plains before plunging into the bush. After another food and a sunbathe at the hut we wandered out to the road - some of the more onergetic children swimming down the gorge rather than go back over the hill.