page 15

Nine noble lads found themselves shoe-horned into a grossly underpowered rental van heading out of Wellington at about 6.p.m. on Friday. All song and joked to Taihape where the gas gauge registered 'Empty'. Not feeling like parting with 7/6 as opening fee for the Taihape Taxi-drivers' Gas Station we roared off towards Waiouru where there was no gas at all.

Colour the air black with curses.

About four miles along the road to Ohakune the engine finally died, whereupon two churls car to pass - a Volkswagen. Its kindly driver just happened to have a spare gallon of gas which he very kindly sold to us. Sighs of thanks. In due course we reached the car park at the Mangawhero falls and pounded away over the snow to Bly the Hut (unofficial) and so into the pit.

Scene; A crowded room in this hut. Enter a board wearing a dirty yellow parka and bludging heavily.

"Gidup." he says.

After a hurried glimpse at the feel thy weather outside, colour everbody yellow - the cowards. One hour later colour them blue with cold. That day we praetised a little traversing and some exerceises in stopping oneself on a snow slope with a nice axe. However the snow was slushy (not the desired too) so we descended to the Mangaturuturu Hut in the Velley below-very likely the frist tramping hut int the Northsland. The ubiquitous stool apppeared once again over the fire - colour it red hot. The next day's weather was even more disgusting then the last, so until 12 we chopped wood, lay in the pit and had a general good time Mike Island. The ubiquitous stoo appeared once again over the fire - colour it red hot. The next day's weather was even more disgusting than the last, so until 12 we chopped wood, lay in the pit and had a general good time-Hike Heenan, that cheerful plebein, chose to amuse the peasantry by springin off the top bunk onto the end of the mantel-piece, thereby projecting it and its resident primi billies torches and goar swoiftly up into the air and down into the hearth. Finding his perch insecure, Mike sprang off onto a warm frying pan which was concealing an even warier oprimus (i.e. at an even more optimum temperrature). Another excellent display of aerobatics followed. There was some more fun too, in practising belaying and roping techniques thoch though conditions were adverse.

That evening, a mighty game of pantoon was enjoyed by many. Plastic playmoney found in a cupboard came in handy as chips, and some marvellous turns of luck (or skillful cheating?) were witnessed. One yokel produced some bramdy, which was the cause of much brawling and lip-smacking, amongst the canaille. The same may be said for a similer quantity of rum. Colour the snow yellow tomorrow. Monday dawned fine and clear, so with admirable zest, the beggarlyhicks cleaned up the hut and abandoned it for the snowy slones. Where more rope-work was preetised. A delight-ful series of glissades, durning which a rabbit was seen, brought us back to our packs at about 2 p.m., and by 3.40 we arrived back in the land in the land of pubs - i.e. Ohakune, where the party split up. page break [unclear: The majortiy][gap — reason: illegible] vale others thumbed northwards.

- Peter Radcliff.

Organiser; Peter Berry; Sub Hinstructers [sic]; Mike Heenan, Hugh Wolde. Hinstructees [sic]; Chris Murray, Ross McGerty, Brian Sission, Nick Whitten, John Mosen, Andy Haines, Peter Radcliffe.