Winter Sabine

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WINTER SABINE On a Friday night last September, The following day saw two trips run- Anne, Stan, Bill, Bob, Rosemary, and ning-Bob, Stan, and Anne to look at I travelled across to Picton with Allen Lake Constance, the rest of us to take Higgins's club party, all heading. for a look at Moss Pass. All of us found Nelson Lakes. Dave met us at Picton the snow to be in pretty cruddy condiwith a Combi and we drove out to tion, it had rained during the night and Rotoiti. Tongue and Meats filled the we four brave heroes packed in below cottage at the lakeside that night. the final gully of the pass proper. That Saturday morning dawned misty and evening Bob, Stan, and Bill moved their damp; we farewelled the main club party tent to warmer pastures farther down and drove round to Lake Rotoroa. the valley. Flower's launch took us to the head of A cold morning persuaded Dave, the lake, the weather steadily worsening Anne, Mrs F. and I that the was a as we approached the Sabine Hut. We grand place. Eventually we arrived there in teeming rain and Stan upchitel ped camp and went down the to decided that a brew was in order. The join the others. After stalking valley nonrot then set in and a "democratic" vote existent deer half-way a declared that we should spend the night side, we all moved back up to Sabine mountain- Forks in the hut. and our food dump. The weather cleared late on Saturday afternoon and Sunday morning was fine. Friday morning saw the weather more We set off for Sabine Forks, tramping like normal with heavy rain. At lunchthrough bush and over river flats. From time the rain eased; Biil and Dave packthe flats we had good views of the ed up and headed for the Travers Saddle. mountains around us, but later the I accompanied them through mist and weather closed in again and we arrived general scunge as far as the bush-line. at Forks Hut just as heavy rain started. After an epic struggle through scrub Bob wasn't over worried about the rain. and snow they reached the Upper He seemed to regard water as his natural Travers Hut just as the shades of night element and had already dived into the were falling (thick and fast). Sabine just to show us how cold the Meanwhile, Stan had tramped down river was. the river track to retrieve a packet con- Five of us set off with day packs taining two cigarettes that he had dropthe East Sabine on Monday; Stan and ped six days previously. After a patient Bob went off in search of venison. We drying-out session he seemed to enjoy tramped up through bush, past the track those cigarettes. Saturday evening saw turn-off to the Travers Saddle and us back at Sabine Hut, watching smoke eventually came to river flats below Mt. rising from Mr and Mrs Higgins' fre Franklin. Here we had a brew, whilst over in the Durville Hut. The launch a cold wind blew, Travers and Cupola arrived dead on time on Sunday and varnished, and snow began to fall. Re- took us back down the lake, but we turning to Forks Hut we found that failed to notice Mr and Mrs Higgins our intrepid hunters had missed out on waving furiously to us from the top of the venison-and were much disgruntled Mount Misery. We drove the Combi to hear that we had seen five sitters. round to St. Arnaud to pick up Dave Tuesday's weather was a distinct im- and Bill, who had tramped down from provement. We packed up and moved the Upper Travers on Saturday. on through the West Sabine Wilderness A tribute to Mr and Mrs Thompson, Area to Blue Lake, arriving there in the who didn't seem to mind six scungy afternoon. This was a spot well worth trampers accompaning their equally the visit, the snow-clad peaks towered scungy son into their home at Blenheim. around us and the snow extended down After we had been well fed, six of us to the lake edge in places. The tents made off for the evening flight back to were pitched at the edge of the snow Wellington, whilst Dave at last spent near the lake; cameras clicked away one night of his holiday at home. merrily as about six miles of film were Those who ran wild in Nelson Lakes exposed. Stan patrolled the slopes with were Dave Thompson (trip leader by his rifle but eventually returned to camp democratic vote), Anne McSweeney, Bill to. tell us that there were no deer within Hargreaves, Bob Hoy, Stan Boyd (the cooee. Five minutes later, four deer were most democratic voter of 'em all), Roseseen crossing Stan's tracks, nicely out of mary Fox and, of course, her husband. range. Gordon Fox.