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The National Park Trip

Shrieking head-lines on the news posters during the vacation informed us that Victoria was in the limelight again with what must be regarded as the swiftest descend of Ngaurahoe on record.

We must admit, however, that the newspapers over-estimated the gravity of the affair, if not the distance covered. The actors in this little tragicomedy were the Misses Alice Jacobs, Gwen Bydder, Molly Wright. Grace Middleton and Mr. Bill Clark. The ladies mentioned cannot be praised too highly for the way in which they stood up to the gruelling ordeal and the laborious ten-mile tramp back to the Chateau. We hope that the craving for a certain stimulant, satisfied on the homeward journey by one of the young ladies, will not characterise her future career.

The party, consisting of twenty members, left Wellington on Saturday, 22nd ult. The train journey was full of incident, and evidence that the time was not spent unprofitably was manifest in the fine collection of bric-a-brac which later on graced our festive board. On arrival at the National Park Station, all the party, except three (names please ?) set off to tramp the ten miles to the Chateau, The Thomson motor-bike taxi service was much in evidence, and if it intensified the agonies of a ten-mile trek for some of the ladies, it certainly moved them.

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Five days saw practically everyone at the skiing grounds, some to renew, and others to make their first acquaintance with those elusive wooden runners:

"O, what a fall was there, my countrymen,

Then I, and you, and all of us fell down——"

Such is the joy of youth that in spite of such strenuous exercise a full muster would assemble on the Chateau dancing floor each night. One of the pleasing features of the trip was the moderate cost per day in addition to the privileges we enjoyed at the Chateau. We slept and dined in the huts, yet had full use of the Chateau's baths, boiler rooms, lounge and dancing floor. In fact so well established were we, that a typical night-scene in the lounge would be something like this: several members of our party playing bridge, others swarming over the billiard and ping-pong tables; Sam Rubinstein at the piano after five minutes' earnest supplication from the manageress, and the Chateau guests either waiting for our stalwarts to take the floor first, or moving in behind the rest of our party about to partake of an excellent supper at the expense of the Chateau.

In spite of such demoralising influences, the actual mountaining was not negelected. Ruapehu, perhaps luckily, was not attempted by our party as a whole, but Ron. Offwood and Alice Jacobs made a successful ascent with the Tararua Club. On the Wednesday the party divided, one-half remaining behind to indulge in the skiing, and the other half proceeding to Mangatepopo Huts. The same day Messrs. Ron. Offwood and Priestley Thomson made a rapid ascent of Ngaurahoe and cut steps for the ill-fated party that followed them the next day. By 2 a.m. the next morning six of the party were on their way to the Ketetahi blow-holes. From there they climbed Tongariro and returned to the hut in time to see the remainder of the party leave for Ngaurahoe—the rest is common knowledge.

The skiing sports saw excellent performances by members of our party. Don Priestley. Ralph Hogg and Bob Grant were all in the first ten home in the Men's Lang-lauf or Cross-Country Championship. It was just sheer bad luck that our team in the relay were not placed. Of the team (the above throe and Priestly Thomson) two were novices. Don gave an excellent performance and came in second. We think skiing blues are indicated.

On the Friday a concert was held in the Chateau, the proceedings being opened with a V.U.C. haka led by Ralph Hogg. Other items were, songs by Miss Tim Lambourne, a pianoforte solo by Sam Rubinstein. and a comedy sketch. "Barnacle Bill," by Ralph and Don. The A.U.C. party also contributed items.

On the following night we had few opportunities to shine at the Fancy Dress Ball. Don looked his usual charming self in a pirate costume, Jessie Martin and Tim Lambourne were alluring in hula-hula costume; Sam as a Highland laddie graced the piano more than even—in every way the life and soul of the party.

See the last of the College year.

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It is to be regretted that such a lively and enjoyable holiday should culminate in disaster; and the last few days of our holiday were spent in an atmosphere of gloom.

Mention should be made of the skilful manner in which Syd. Lambourne conducted the party. With a cumbersome party and many difficulties to overcome the management was all that could be desired. —A. Priestley Thompson. "His Iliad." (Deciphered by Redmond B. Phillips. Sunday, September 20.)