In the lead up to
this trip, I didn't want to let on about the destination I'd planned
for this trip. I didn't want to be the only one going. The less said
the better, I thought. It'll be a surprise. And people will get a
chance to see some untouched Silver Peaks bush close up. Face to face
in fact.
Now, I knew that
most Dunedin Masochists would be at the beach at the polar plunge,
and there was the alternative trip of Trevor's (a weekend of getting
lost in the Catlins bush). So, there was plenty of masochism to choose
from and delight you! Nevertheless 8 turned up for the Silver Peaks.
That's a bit too many, really, for such intimate contact bush-bashing...
Among the numbers were some who had only just started out tramping.
And, hey, what was the SAR contact doing coming on the trip??
The whole day was
gloomy: Black clouds and strong winds. But not wet or especially cold.
I felt strangely optimistic. The rest clearly looked committed. (Certainly
they should have been...) Obviously quite deranged. But hey, this
trip couldn't be worse than being tied up and lashed by a set of sharpened
crampons, (or whatever trampers do these days for kicks). Could it?
We parked by the
official start of the Walkways on Semple Road. Once under way, the
leader (blush) promptly got off the track descending Hightop to Green
Ridge. But, bashing through the scrub is good for masochists. So they
didn't mind the slightly earlier-than-expected introduction to the
day's ration of torture...
"Who wants to walk
on the Pineapple Track everyday, anyway?" said David.
About 5 minutes
this side of the Green Hut site we turned left and plunged upwards
(can you "plunge upwards"?) into the scrub. Over the top of the high
point we went, then down onto the prominent ridge that leads to the
upper fork in Silverstream. After about half an hour going down the
ridge, we called a halt. We took time to think about our progress
and the shortness of the day, over lunch. Should we turn around and
go home? - and make it the shortest day trip ever (never mind being
the shortest day)?
Well, after due
consideration, we piked. Turned tail. Fled. Rowan led us back to the
high point in double quick time. We had hardly had a chance to sustain
any decent injuries. But we weren't ready for home just yet. "Let's
go to Possum Hut. Get a different type of round trip out of it..."
was suggested. So, we did.
Jonette led us from
Green, past a thoroughly dry pond, down the lovely track to Possum.
The stained glass windows on the hut are gone, and so are the bunks.
But the hut is still there, with its wonderful stone chimney supporting
a hanging garden. Not so long ago, John Cocks and Nicki Hodgson had
gone down to look at the disgusting midden of old and recent rubbish
that had been thrown down the bank. They found lots of beer bottles,
and carted them up and stacked them by the hut, letting me know they
were there. I managed to carry about a third of them out. I'll get
the rest later. (Some might scrub up well enough to bottle beery beverages
in.)
We followed the
track up "Eucalypt Spur". But found recent track work had made it
difficult to walk on. Neatly chopped snow-tussock marked the track.
Drying grass blades lay IN the track. And, as you all know, this is
slippery stuff. Furthermore, when it's several centimetres thick,
it is treacherous. However, hidden cunningly among it, we found many
lethal sharp pointed stumps of slashed scrub (mostly native shrubs)
- up to 150 mm high. This would have been a disastrous combination
for anyone coming down, slipping, and sitting on them. We broke some
of the stumps off. But, be warned! We didn't get the lot.
Masochists, of course,
might like to rush headlong down the track and see how much pain they
can enjoy.
Anyway. We decided
that the round trip we had planned, into the headwaters of Silverstream,
then onto Swampy, would have suited about four people better, and
in Summer. (For adequate daylight hours, you understand, not for some
namby-pamby notion of pleasantness of weather. Choice of date should
coincide with a period of incessant drizzle.)
As we got back to
the vehicles, apologies were expressed to all for the lack of actual
masochism. A poor show, with not a single death, not even a severed
limb.
Richard Pettinger
for David Barnes, Rowan Meddings, Chris Wells, Jonette Service, Stuart
Hoskin, Tony Malcolm and Phil Dowsett. Thanks to Anne-Marie Barnes
for being a last minute ring-in for SAR contact, when David decided
to come along after all.
Footnote: The eucalypts
on "Eucalypt Spur" must go! All that's needed would be a working bee
with about six chain saws and some stump poison to paint on. There's
a nice clearing in the middle of them, room for three or four tents.
Could be lots of fun, totally without masochism. DoC will help with
the stump poison. The inheritors of the NZFS planting, i.e. Resource
Management Ltd, are unlikely to be interested in playing a part.
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