This report is shown as scanned pages until a volunteer types it up. Skip to the machine-read text (unproofread), which a screen reader can read.
Machine-read text (unproofread)
Read from the scans by software, so it contains mistakes. Typing it up properly would help blind readers: use Suggest an edit.
: TRIPS THAT DON'T RUN. July 9-11 "QUIET WEKEND" : With apologies to the original. JACK WAS QUITE OMPH TIC that the weather man had given an assurance of a good week end, so, with child-like faith (Yes we should have known better) it was deeided that we should attempt the Winter Southern Crossing, as scheduled. Catching the six o'clock train to Otaki was achieved only by the sacrifice of an evening meal, although we assayed the pangs of hunger with sandwiches and cakes at Paekakariki.
Leon insisted that we take the taxi to McKenzie's Farm (?) only, instead of to the Ford, the distance between being only a few minutes walk, but the difference in fare being 12/6 as against el. Fellow trampers please note! On leaving the taxi Jack pointed out an oppesum at the side of the road, a few feet ahead, which dazzled by the headlights made no effort to escape. The possibility of a. kill was of course, too much for Leon, who, snatching an ice-axe leapt into the fray (?) like a whirling Deverish!! There is now one opossum less in the Tararuas - not taking into account ofcourse, what is known as"natural inoreases." The hard and dreary road walk to the cottage needs no comment and after an hour and a. half we were glad to begin the climb up the open ridge, on our way to Fields. With Leon and Nuts in the lead and Jack and I in the rear - the excuse being, that, besides my pack, I also carried the weight of my advancing years!i! we plodded onwards and upwards. It began to rain - that's funny HITE rain, heavens it's SNOWI only a. few hundred feet above the Forks. As we pressed upwards it grew colder and the shelter of the bush was very welcome. The last half hour was most unpleasant, for the snow had settled, scraping our legs as we pushed along and melting on our hands, drawing all the life from them and we were most reluctant to don trousers and gloves, to get them wet on the last lap. "Fields" at last - and our shelter until Sunday, for we woke on Saturday to grey skies, whirling snow and icy cold hut. There was very little wood (as usual) and under the prevailing conditions we were not tempted to seek any and found warmth in the shelter of our "sacks." It was found necessary to "anfreeze" the tap everytime we required water and thanks to Leon's primus we had no trouble, although Jack was getting worried at one stage listening carefully for the water to start running into the billy he discovered after some minutes that he couldn't hear it, because the billy was already full and overflowing!!! up to table top for photos In bright sunshine on Sunday Jack and I plodded/through drifts, knee deep and then down through the dripping bush, with the snow thawing fast, through slush, mush and more slush back to civilasation, where we understand the weather "had been terrible over the week end" (you're telling us!) well i we tried anyway. The Party - "Nuts" Bolt Leon Sondej Jack Allison Ted Dakin. Ted.



Comments
Comments are not open yet.