For those who find it tedious to wade through lengthy trip reports of trips they missed here is a quick precy:
Two-hour Friday night grunt to Travers Hut; leatherwood crawl; river-bash to Forks Hut; vertical bush-bash to Makawakawa Stream; river-bash to Diggers Hut; quick grunt; mud slide to West Branch of Tamaki River; more river-bashing; back to the bus.
Read on for more detail:
“So how high are we walking tonight?” I inquired.
“Oh, the hut’s at 700m,” came the reply.
“That’s not far short of the highest mountain in England!” I chuckled.
A quick glance at the map confirmed my suspicion – our Friday night walk-in crossed several moderately squeezed contours. So off we set looking like a collection of glowworms, snaking through the bush, all following Harriet’s shorts. There was some reference to the male:female ratio of 4:6 which appeared to intrigue the lads more than the girls – come on lads this is new age fit trip tramping.
Saturday we finally located our leatherwood-bashing track after Andrew (Chief Guide) admitted to having been distracted – so many females around – Jo was not amused. The leatherwood bash we had all so much been looking forward to was to be somewhat of a letdown with a pretty good track to follow but it still tried to claim a ski pole. Instead the group settled for some river-bashing instead. It didn’t take long to realise that river-bashing involves bashing bits of your body on rocks lurking below the surface and I’m obviously very good at it as demonstrated by the fine collection of bruises I acquired. However, I was relieved to climb out of it for more “hut bagging”.
It was soon remarked that we were maintaining a steady pace despite each navigational decision involving 10 x 3 compulsory glances at the map and heated discussion. Each stop was limited to minimal chatting and strictly no tea making allowed, much to John’s indignation – “new-age trampers get far too hydrated on water,” he mumbled.
Stuart decided we were in danger of completing the trip too quickly so directed us on a “shortcut” involving steeply bashing down towards another river. Harriet escaped relatively unhurt after slithering over a 2m drop – rumour has it that Lisa had got sick of her word play jokes but there were no witnesses.
More river bashing led us towards the hut but as the light faded we settled for a spot at the edge of the river to pitch the flies and rest our battered legs. John’s saw came in handy to remove supplejack and after a little effort a couple of cosy nests were soon created.
Stuart demonstrated great culinary expertise in coordinating a three-course meal, with Jo providing the port. John R. was less indignant about the obvious new-age tramping tradition of three-course meals so long as he finally got his cup of tea.
Sunday saw yet more river-bashing before once again heading up onto the tops, the tops, of course being somewhat skinny at this southern end of the Ruahines with fabulous views of the lowlands to the east and west. The day ended with a steep muddy descent to… yes… a spot more river-bashing just for a change. Well look, at least our boots ended up being cleaned.
Thanks guys – all in all a great weekend, good company, good humour (debatable), good food and good tramping!