Operation Deepskeeze

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OPERATION DEEPSKEEZE pedals to climb the great Vignemale, 12,500ft., two days climbing to reach AUGUST 4-9, 1961 the summit, but this involves another story. Once more I dropped down to Brilliantly led by "Admiral" Dion the foothills to Argles Gazost, birthplace Quirke, this was perhaps the most of Marshall Foch. Then on to Lourdes, perfect ski week(end) ever enjoyed. Seeimmortal friend of Saint Bernadette. ing 20-odd happy surnburnt faces exitus The feel of the Atlantic breezes in the the bus Dwar on Tuesday night, made air I turned to look back to see the me feel that perhaps it was an advantlofty Vignemal and the cone of the Pic age to become snowbound. Certainly du Midi de Bigorre melt into the misty the story is worth the telling. horizon. No burden of hill was be- It all began one ordinary wet fore me as I rode along the rich plains night, on one ordinary sounding Friday Ruaof Pau and on to the Basque country pehu ski weekend. The only difand Biarritz. Here in this sumptuous, ference was that the transport slight was sophisticated and most fashionable Garret's Leyland 'bus. Now read on. rendezvous of all Europe by comparison We were immediately plunged into Bayonne, Garcassonne, Perpignon, ecstasy by Dion who stated that seem drowsy simply discords of one another. he'd left his pack and rather vast The restless surf of the Atlantic quantity of refreshment in his emulates the restless crowds of the silver latter being of course a rather car. sober- The coast and helps to heighten the still ing thought. waters of the mediterranean and the simple unsophisticated Catalan towns Thrill No. 2 was the liberal applicaof the vermillion coast. tion of tea to the passengers' clothes caused by the vertical movements of the JIM QUINLAN. bus. Droning on through the rain we * * * noticed Mountview service station and then we were climbing steadily up The following skis, if not claimed by Bruce Road. As the traction decreased October 23 from the Lodge on Ruapehu, about a mile from the top, we found will be requisitioned by the club: ourselves pushing the bus through a sort of Christmas fairyland of mountain 1 pair red laquered boards with grey scenery. tips, no binding. It wasn't a bad sort of walk, after 1 pair brown boards with "Kandahar" we'd left the bus, and we arrived at bindings. the lodge in short time. One of our 1 pair brown boards with the word number was attired in his best suit, "Dolmenkollen" thinking it to be the Roseneath bus. at the tip, with Two others decided to take "Kandahar" bindings. themselves outside, tent-wise for the night, before 1 pair red laquered boards with peace descended. "Geze" bindings, Coberger Alpine acces- At 7.30 a.m. Saturday, Dion "Oates", sories. visited the tent refugees. (Captain Our club now has five brand new T3 Oates, you may remember was the graduates, they are Brian Hunt, Peter "most gallant gentleman" of Captain Lillico, Dan. Lowe, Brian Aiken and Scott's ill-fated Antarctic expedition, so Peter Miller. I don't know why the author appends this title to Dion.- -Ed.) At this time the wind was unpleasantly fast, with full "RUBARB" supporting snowflakes. The wind increased to a terrifying violence, in Can anyone supply Phil Barton with the semi-gloom, accompanied by horithe following back journal numbers: zontal snow razors and a deafening Volume 1-Nos. 1 to 4 inclusive, noise. About 8.30 Bruce Miller set volume 2-Nos. 1to 4 inclusive, volume off to visit his friend Jacob Bossherd, 3-Nos. 1 to 4 inclusive, volume 4 who was residing with the Hutt Valley- Nos. 1 to 3 inclusive, volume 5-No. ites. He returned defeated after about 7 only, volume 6-No. 1 only, volume 7 two hours, and in relating his story, -No. 4 only. made it sound like a Polar saga:

WTME Snow on our doorstep. meanwhile Jacob arrived breathing The debris was cleared in a matter heavily through the ice. Dave and Bob of days. Meanwhile Bob and Dave suratempted to accompany him back later, veyed the wreckage of their tent, flutterbut with no success. The hut shook, ing prettily in the 100 m.p.h. gale. Later and our card "schools" progressed it was salvaged intact, with exception methodically, but at 11.30 we couldn't of a disintegrated fly-sheet. The nylon help noticing that the chimney was on guys were shredded like cotton. Dave fire. This was a nuisance, as it meant was appointed Shangri-la guide, for those leaving our cards for a few minutes, be- who hazarded this terrible journey. cause of the grave danger of there being (They also serve who only stand and no hut to play in; so under the guidance wait.-Ed.) of such stalwarts as Bill Tidswell, Dion, An excellent tea was cooked by the George Barry, Bruce, John, etc. girls on the trip, but reviewing our food we pumped H20, into, around and on supplies we wondered where the next top of the chimney. meal was coming from. As the storm Bruce and Barry were perched pre- raged on outside, the wandering T.&M. cariously Antarctic fashion, on the roof, players presented a variety of star turns where they did their best to drown the in the gear room. A wrestling match, occupants below. Bruce V. George, referee Dave; race The ladder held John Symes. track at Monza (Dion and George); The fire went out. Antarctic tent, Dion disappears into The hut was filled with grymes. blizzard; and a T.V. studio, presented by The issue was never in doubt. Bill Tidswell. That night after lights out the storm raged on, and although out to ski by the light from a Tilly Sunday morning did dawn, it was stilll lamp until it was time for bed. We wild. About mid-day a few ski-ers be- continued ski-ing on the following morngan to venture out, and noticed with ing, Tuesday, until 12 a.m. when the glee that the road was hopelessly bus finally got through( to take us back blocked. Although the chairlift wasn't along still partially blocked roads to working either, nobody cared, there dear windy, damaged Wellington. Boy was miles of trackless snow in every what a ride! direction. Rumours began to come in of blocked roads, lost people, refugees, -By DAVE CAPPER. the end of the World. We settled down * * * for another day and the weather worsened again. Sid Smith invented a The golden orb of daylight raises his new. type of smoke bomb, along with some home-made scones, which we ate. arms above the hills Various discussions took place, schooldays, explosions, or the best type of car And makes that last despairing gesture to commit suicide in; inside our little oasis. We slept the night in the middle which every songbird stills. of a creaking screaming hell. Monday was absolutely glorious, icicles In bush the darkness upward seeps glittered in the bright sunshine and there were undulating acres of new from every hip-round hollow snow, lying at our feet. The mountain assumed its rightful role, majestic and To creep and thicken donkey-deep aloof, without its hordes of humans. This day was meant for ski-ing, and ski across the tracks we follow, we did. Bill Rice instructed with his usual toleration; we ski-ed, slipped, fell, And runs in front just like a deer in that bright, powdery, shimmering, beautiful snow. beyond the torch-lit funnel The sun beat down but the road remained firmly blocked in spite of the Darkness seals the outside door, as we efforts of a bulldozer and grader. That evening two of our fanatics went Alice along the tunnel. Bill Tidswell inspects the top of a car. -Photo. by Bill Rice.