I was keen to dispel
the image that I was only interested in trips called 'Silver Peaks
for Masochists'. So I organised a fairly gentle trip for a nice day,
and promised. no masochism. This led to my searching for a name for
the trip on the Thursday night before. 'What is the opposite of masochism?"
I asked. Andrew said "Sadism". "No, wait a minute. that can't be what
I'm looking for." Graeme said "Hedonism" which apparently gets clean
away from the negative connotations of pain and suffering. No, no,
that doesn't seem right. Sounds a bit too poncy, and it didn't rhyme,
scan, or whatever great titles do. I was thinking more 'Possum for
Ponces', 'cos this'll be a doddle." Little did I know it would be
more Wrestling with Rustlers'. But we took it easy, like ponces (and
hedonists) might, so you could have called it 'Silver Peaks for Schoolgirls'.
Actually, it was Nanette, our schoolgirl team member, who undoubtedly
thought we were all sadists as well as masochists.
Eleven was a good
turn out for midwinter. Especially as it had been winter the day before.
With the 24 hours of cold now behind us (!?) these trampers were coming
out like spring bulbs. Including some who hadn't shown up for many
years. Right daffs!
Now, you remember
Nanette, she was the one who played a fantastic flute tune for us
(with Christina Johnston on miniature violin) at the barndance in
May. An extremely youthful tramper, who added to her fame by coating
herself in cocoa crumb during the previous Thursday's talk, much to
the delight of the large gathering of chocolate-nuts present. She
was among those all keen for the day trip, along with her dad Wilbert.
There was some discussion about the adequacy of her clothing, but
we all promised to lend her our warm gear if she got cold. I couldn't
see any chocolate on her at least.
We had the pleasure
of being accompanied by a guest from Taranaki way, an ex Waikato TC
member named Jean, who was keen enough to phone me in the wee small
hours on Sunday morning. She probably had her bootlaces tied by 8
am. So that, when we were the obligatory five minutes late picking
her up on our way out of town, she was convinced we had gone on without
her. It must have seemed like she'd been waiting for hours for this
bunch of un-punctual Southerners. Up at the Gardens corner fire station,
we picked up Beverly. It was great to see her out with us again. Other
old-timers were Graeme L (bird spotter), Ross F and the eternal Doug
F.
We parked at Leith
Saddle and, with Ken leading the way, climbed leisurely up a recently
recut Rustlers Ridge to Burns Saddle, accompanied by constant loud
bird song (mainly thrushes, said Graeme). Ken didn't get breathless
enough to fail to provide a running commentary about all of the things
of interest (or otherwise) along the way. Sidling from Burns Saddle
onto the track between Swampy and Hightop was the lowlight of the
day. Nanette couldn't find it in her to express enthusiasm for the
gorse. Funny that .But I thought it was no worse than it was twenty
years ago. Doug reckons that section could do with a bit of a work
party, and he would recommend it as an OTMC project. The Club could
do more with respect to track work and here was a fine place to demonstrate
its inclination to put something back into the hills, and not just
leave such work to the oldies. I agreed. We haven't seen a track working
bee on the trip card for a while.
There weren't many
rests. Except perhaps for Kens class up the front who would wait for
Nanette to negotiate the boggy bits without getting her school shoes
wet. I could see we wouldn't get to Possum Hut and back before night
at this rate, so I was pleased that there weren't any diehard masochists
among us. In fact, when Nanette, Wilbert and I had passed through
Sleepy Hollow, we came across the rest scattered among the tussock
saying that they were revolting. Well, we knew that already. They
were also piking. They wanted to go home. This must have been music
to Nanettes ears. She'd heard about the slog back up from Possum.
So we had lunch. Glorious view, weather ... what more could one want?
Music? Poor Nanette. Undoubtedly fined with inspiration, she had just
got her famous flutey thing out, and put it to her lips, and the team
stood up, and we were away again. We were off to play in the snow
on Swampy. But not before Graeme and Jean disappeared off into the
bush and tussock to lay a couple of wilding pines to rest Good work
guys. But they needed the exercise. The tramp was, er, a gentle one.
With bird watching - was that really a fembird in that bush we all
encircled? Sometimes you need a nice stroll. But I had been hoping
to burn off a cold, and it got worse, if anything. I don't remember
getting out of breath except once when Ross and I let the rest get
ahead and then we went like stink to catch them up. We had all of
about a minute's decent walking at that point.
So, the progress
was steady. Up the horrible climb of Swampy. Made more ghastly by
the poo, and hoofprints of a significant number of cattle in the reserve.
There was a good inch of snow, all frozen and hard, up on the top.
And by now Nanette's shoes and cotton socks, soaked with swamp water,
were offering no protection against the cold. Needless to say, Ken's
guided tour of the tarns, peat banks and slip scarp edge got no takers.
It would have meant another half hour of flailing through snowy tussock,
and nobody really wanted that Surprisingly, Nanette was willing to
go that way, rather than by the road. I believe she was past caring.
It was here that it transpired that nobody had any spare socks for
her. She pressed on without a grumble. The walk along the road went
quickly. It was great to see quite a few others up there, including
youngsters, having a great time in the snow, even though it was getting
late and they'd have a way to go to get home.
At the end of the
road we descended the track with the boardwalks to Leith Saddle. It
was amazing that the track was still snowy and wet despite the large
volumes of hot air from the man in front. Jacqui picked her way cautiously
on the slippery bits, worried that she might do a Jenny L with her
knees. We were at the cars comfortably before dark.
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