The Fabulous Tongue and Meat Travelling Elephant-Grass Stomping and Log-Leaping Spectacular

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THE FABULOUS TONGUE AND MEAT TRAVELLING ELEPHANT-GRASS STOMPING AND LOG-LEAPING SPECTACULAR It was strange really that I was actually keen to go on Laurie's Paratewaewae-East Waetewaewae trip. His last trip had been a pretty rough-and-tumble affair to say the least, and that was only a fit trip. But what's life without a little pain, and it was with this thought in mind that we made our approach to the Paratewaewae on Friday night along a dirt road composed mainly of bullsh and cowsh with the odd spot of cyanide thrown in for good measure, and dead 'possums. A good night was had at a comfy little campsite at the Paratewaewae-Kaitua Forks and we were away at 7.30 up a very pleasant little stream indeed. Some way up the stream Lauri fell in and further up he fell in again. "Don't worry about it", says he "now I've got a body to match my pit which is still wet from last weekend. (Easter). However, good travel couldn't last forever and soon a spur was chosen just opposite a waterfall to take us up onto the ridge. Two routes were taken on to the spur. Firstly there was Laurie and Richard's direct route and then there was Barry's route which climbed two hills instead of one. This spur took us onwards and upwards until we arrived at the beginnings of the elephant grass which we slowly chopped our way through (and vice versa) further up the spur. Some positively acrobatic technique was needed on some of the fallen trees but we eventually got to the main ridge where a dry lunch was gratefully consumed. A short recce after lunch had us precisely positioned and a good deer trail was followed along the ridge between the East Waetewaewae and Prout Stream in the hope that we could get down into the gorge below the headwaters and possibly to Island Forks that night. Hopes of Island Forks began to feel dashed later on however for two reasons. Firstly travel was getting much worse with some very thick bush having to be negotiated and various members of the trip falling into holes in the ridge at regular intervals. And secondly it was beginning to get late. Despite Laurie's mutterings about extra nights out and an ever increasing drizzle morale was high and life was being kind. Like the man said; its mostly all pain anyway. Late that afternoon a puddle was found andit was decided that this would be a good place to camp. A flysite was excavated and the fly set up, everybody looking very dubiously at the possibility of sleeping four in it in comfort. It works however and with stew and jelly used for anasthetics everybody sort of slept the night out. A chilly morning greeted us and slow work was made of getting out of pit and away along the ridge. Some mucking about was necessary but eventually a route was found along the ridge and down a spur to Prout Stream quite near its confluence with the West Waetewaewae. A very pleasant little stream is Prout Stream and I was quite sorry we had to leave SO soon. Lunch at Island Forks and a swollen Waetewaewae soon had us at Waetewaewae Hut. The bus was due to leave at 4 o'clock, with a good 3% hours solid tramping left to get out to the pick-up point I decided that maybe we might just miss out. But that'sa Gallagher trip for you. Once more into the drizzle which had continued on and off most of the weekend and we began climbing to the Plateau which was duly trampled underfoot and at the ford of Papa Stream a second lunch was felt necessary. It started getting dark on the tramline and by the time the forks were reached it had beome almost completely dark. The Otaki Ford didn'tlook too inviting and SO it was decided that instead of going right back to the bridge over the Otaki

(I'm told going backwards can be very psychologically defeating), we should take the stock track on the true right bank and cross at the bridge some distance along the road. This didn't prove to be too difficult, although some moaning was heard from the back of the party in reference to the hills that had to be surmounted, and we were soon wandering along the road to arrive at the farmhouse at about eight-thirty. The suggestion that steaklets and mushrooms would be nice was welcomed and soon we had tea on the fry and pits out on the grass verge where we stayed until our transport arrived from Plimmerton. At this point I must once again thank Mr. Gallagher for providing a welcome taxi service and an easy way home to the pit once more. Hopping into a hot bath wasn't easy and I was initially a very sore body with cuts and scratches all over. But who can complain - it had been a really good trip and I felt very satisfied though perhaps a little tired for my efforts. The Tararua Route Guide says of the Paratewaeewae, Waetewaewae area: "There are no hills in the valleys and the only tracks are the routes out via Mick and down into the Waitohu Stream - travel in this area can be a real test of bushcraft". And long may it remain sO. (Too much to expect of the Forest Service?) Devoted bush-pushers on the trip were: Laurie Gallagher, Barry Biggs, Richard Bradley and John McMillan.