Impression of an S.K.

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IMPRESSION OF AN S.K. A quick change at the office, a dash grass clumps now and occasional light in ragged shorts through the hordes of rain drifts down. Logan, Dundas, an smartly dressed commuters to the sta- interminable slog and then Arete; 10.15, tion, there to meet Peter and a middle- right on schedule but will this weather aged Irish gentleman in blue overtrou. finally stop us. We move faster now At 5.30 we are on our way. Graham with Tarn Ridge Hut and a short respite climbs aboard at Waterloo and the party drawing us on. Just before the Waiohine is complete. The weather is still and Pinnacles the mist lifts for a time and clear-two highs are moving on to the green valleys greet our eyes. The pincountry-everything appears right. We nacles provide some interest but the hut change to the railcar at Masterton, claim and a hot brew provide more and we our taxi at Eketahuna and are soon hurry on. making our way over the cold moonless The primus roars and we relax; 45 hills. minutes, bread and honey, cigarettes and The alarm shrills; three o'clock and brew, before stepping out into glorious the wind moans around Putara Hut as sunshine, blue sky and breaking mist. we prepare breakfast; Graham at the With light spirits we hurry on, we are primus bench, Peter and myself still in now over half way to Powell and the the pit. At 4.15 we say goodbye to weather is improving. We take off parkas Lindsay and are on our way. It is misty for the 900-foot climb on to Girdlestone and a cold wind blows but we will go on but are hindered by the snow, lying and see what happens. Moving at a thick in places. The parkas go on again steady pace, we wind through the leather- at the top where we are battered by a wood towards Kareti. The ridge is gain- brutal wind, blowing us off balance and ed, the leatherwood becomes occasional threatening to pluck us from the ridge. and the wind and mist worse. Long We stop before North King for cold Johns, parkas and compass are the order cocoa and glucose. Graham laughs and of the day. says I look like Steptoe, huddled in Ruapai. Torches are put away and parka with battered face. We move on, two ridges disappear into the mist. Pete in the lead doing all the hard work Graham checks by compass, the left in the snow we cannot always avoid. hand ridge is ours and we are away The Three Kings pass, each one an again. The ridge snakes into the mist, effort, each one forgotten as we move peaks and saddles pass slowly by. We on. stop by a tarn for a drink of cold coffee The Broken Axe Pinnacles-how and glucose and feed of biscuits and much harder a short near-vertical pitch cheese, then the grind on to Puke- is when one is tired. McGregor is tough moremore. Unable to see far ahead, we but we see Holdsworth now and no more cannot judge the length of the climb, major climbs to be overcome. which is perhaps a good thing. We just The sun drops towards the western plod on until the summit appears out of horizon and forward motion becomes the mist. Snow lies between the snow- automatic, disturbed only by the ham- mering wind, a malevolent force work- light breeze and the gentle warmth of ing against us. Thoughts drift away, the the early sun. We look for trout in the ridge rolls under our feet and the last still pools and wonder how the rugby climb to Holdsworth draws closer. and hockey went. We have a short rest Almost there, in the pit soon, keep going. and contemplate the climb over Cone Shadows lengthen across the Wairarapa Saddle. On and on, I never realized the Plains. The wind tugs at parkas, the saddle was so far back, but at last the snow drags at tired feet. Holdsworth- top and the short run down to the hut. only downhill left now, but the snow Why does one do a trip like this? lies deep here, its slight crustiness caus- There is no enjoyment, only suffering ing plunging progress. Powell Hut finally forcing oneself to keep going, peaks belooms out of the dusk at seven o'clock come barriers, rivers tedious distances -apricots, rice and a few hours sleep. to be covered. They won't catch us at Nothing can stop us now, but we hope this again, we all agree about thatit will be fine tomorrow. It would be not next weekend anyway. hell in the rain. The alarm drags us awake at 4.30. The Tauwharenikau River now and Bacon and porridge for breakfast and we pile on the pace, hoping to spend a the day dawning fine. I cannot decide lazy hour at Smith's Creek with who whether to pack and then put on boots ever might have staggered in there after or to put on boots and then pack, but the ball and rugby. Down the river all Pete, with his now famous "Let's get the way to save time, with weariness a going", soon hastens me along. constant burden. Smith's Creek and a At 5.30 we are on our way. Stiff disappointment for there was no one muscles soon warm up and the fresh cool- there, but we allow time for a quick ness of the bush makes a pleasant change brew anyway. With no reason to hurry from the wind-swept tops. A quick visit now we move steadily to crush the last to Mountain House disturbs the occu- climb. Kaitoke, elation, we've done it pants who are soon glad to see our dis- and only four o'clock. Home to a hot appearing backs. bath, a good feed and an early night. Totara Flats are salubrious in the Kevin M.