Waitewaewae Track, Otaki Forks Road End, Tararua Forest Park
Party: Ray (leader), Sue, Sam, Kerryn, Mark, Antony, Sarah, Carol, Daniel, Me
Friday began much like any other normal weekend tramp. Well, maybe not, given it was sevens weekend and almost everyone else headed towards the railway station was in costume...
On arrival, I greeted Ray and was introduced to the group at large. I started chatting to Mark, on account of his awesome t-shirt (Reads: "Dirty, Filthy, Stinky, Tramp" in big letters down the back), and discovered that he was new to the club and fairly new to Wellington as well. I thought he was kinda cute.
Driving on to the road end, dinner was in Waikanae, which has really only average dinner venues. But it was hot and greasy, so thats all that really matters. Before too long we were at the Otaki Forks road-end setting up camp outside Parawai Lodge.
Mark, Kerryn and I shared one end of a club fly and my ground sheet. Problem was that where I wound up within the tent had a lump in the middle of it, so neither end of the bed was a comfortable way around to sleep - I just cant sleep with my head below my hips. Eventually I gave up and went up onto the hut deck to sleep - far more comfortable, and shaded from the moon!
Saturday morning dawned HOT. And sunny. Real February weather!
We wandered off down the track at a pace that both Kerryn and I struggled with in the heat. At the big swingbridge I was already having dreams of stopping on the way back for a swim. The river was so beautiful, it was an amazing spot.
Once all across the bridge one at a time, we continued on, around the massive slip that keeps moving, and eventually onto the old tramway.
At the old pulley we stopped to have lunch and dry the tent fly, which had got a bit of condensation on it and not enough sunshine. Once we had packed up we were off again towards Waitewaiwai Hut, our destination for the night. We dropped into the river and followed the track in and out of it and up and down around it for a while.
All of a sudden there was a screaming yell from behind me. Sarah had had the track collapse underneath her feet and had slipped partway down the bank, badly twisting her ankle. First aid was administered in the form of cold cloths, elevation and painkillers, and once Sarah was feeling better we made an attempt to start walking her out. After about 15 minutes of difficult scramble due to her being unable to bear any weight on her ankle and the ground (and lack of strong people) making a carry impractical, we stopped on another bank where the river narrowed and discussed options.
The route around the slip was in no way going to be at all negotiable with Sarah unable to walk. It wasnt a "track" so much as "goat-track" - narrow, steep and slippery. There was no way we could get even one support person alongside Sarah through there. The river had good wide flats, but could also possibly require a series of swims to get back to Otaki Forks, and it was a river that got much larger as you got closer to the forks, and with two young boys on the tramp it wasnt really a suitable option.
In the end, Ray set off his PLB, which was an old 121.5 with 3-years "expired" batteries, left his food with us for the evening and took Sam for a rapid walk back to the road end to call for assistance from the ranger station. The rest of us got out cookers and billies and made a brew while we waited to see what would happen. We set up two tent flies alongside the track (in an area so narrow that the party that came through the next day looked around them and wondered WHERE the tents had been!), threw on warm clothes and generally made ourselves comfortable, telling stories and sharing jokes.
Suddenly, I could hear a helicopter. Surely not. The beacon had only been on for two hours, and there was no way Ray and Sam could be back at the road end yet! But yes, it was a chopper and it was looking for us - turns out an aircraft had picked up our signal within about 20 minutes of the beacon being set off!
Next thing we knew, a man had been dropped from the sky and was turning to talk to us about what was going on.
Within 45 minutes of that, Sarah had been airlifted out and we were all of a sudden on our own again, waiting out the night alongside the track. The idea of walking back to the road end, or at least back to the old steam-engine pulley, was very briefly voiced, but there would have been a risk that we would have wound up walking in the dark. Funnily enough, walking on to the hut held even less appeal by this stage!
Bed was early since there was nothing else to do, and was not a bad nights sleep, all told. Yes, my bed was on a slope, and yes, I spent most of my night with one leg hooked around a punga stump to stop me sliding down the hill, but I actually woke feeling refreshed, which was lovely.
In the morning, we were up fairly early. After leaving a note for the other party, we divvied up Sarahs pack and wandered off, stopping for a good while at the point where the track leaves the river, in case Ray and Sam had walked back in to meet us. After a while we decided they obviously hadn't and continued on. The day was muggy and threatening to rain, which it finally did once we were past the big swing bridge.
The swim at the road-end carpark was divinely cold and welcoming! Mark, Ray and I were in the van, which was waiting for Stuart and his party to come out from a harder tramp. Joyously, they had junkfood to share on the way home!
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