My New Zealand Jobs

The Southern Crossing

On March 26th, 11 adventurers left right after work to drive up to do the Southern Crossing. From Otaki Forks, we went up (and I really do mean up) for 2 hours to Field Hut. It was around 10pm by that point, so we all squeezed in for a good night’s sleep. Well, I slept well anyway, thanks to my earplugs. We got up early the next morning and left to go up to Klime Hut (and again, I really do mean up) around 8am. We poured into Klime around 10am for a light lunch, as it was, coincidently, pouring outside. Around 10:30am we heading out, and you guessed it, went up to Alpha Hut. First though, we had to face the cold wind as it slammed rain into our bare faces and knocked us to the ground. These were, without a doubt, the fiercest winds I have ever experienced. Let me remind you that, at the same time, we are crossing fairly narrow mountain peaks with long dropoffs on each side. Not a good combination, so we wisely decided, after over an hour of this, to head back 45 minutes (mostly downhill) to Klime Hut.

‘It was cold at Klime. Might have something to do with the lack of a fireplace. That very reason prompted discussion of whether to stay at Klime, or head to Alpha and its warm fireplace. If we stayed at Klime, we would have more tramping options in the morning. It was 12:30pm by this point. I voted for Klime, as I knew my sleeping bag to be warm, and tramping through 2 hours more wind and rain didn’t arouse any enthusiasm in me. The majority came to a similar conclusion, and we stayed at Klime. Most of my clothes were wet, so I spent more than a few minutes warming up and drying clothes in my sleeping bag (EMS brand with Down - good combo). We had quite an international group. If I remember right, there were 3 Americans, 1 German, 1 Frenchman, and 7 Kiwi. Not bad, eh? Time passed.

Just when we were all settled, it happened. We heard the door open, and in from the wind, cold, and rain came two guys, and the words, “We’ve got some cold kids here.” We are amazed to hear that they led a group of kids through the storm. We were ever more amazed to see how many kids: 9 (6 boys, 3 girls). With the 3 guys who came in earlier soon after us, they brought the grand total to 25. Watching the kids come in, all wet and chilled, certainly was a sight, and a sound. Couldn’t help but feel sorry for them. After pouring some hot water into my Nalgene bottle to make some tea, I looked over at the girl rubbing her hands together, trying to scavenge some warmth from the room. My heart went out to her, and I offered to let her hold my hot Nalgene bottle. Her eyes instantly lit up, and she enthusiasticly wrapped her hands on it. Instantly her face changed to one of solemn joy. Others joined around her, each eager for some warmth, and taking a free space on the bottle. It was a solemn moment.

The rest of the day passed fairly quietly. Well, it was quiet when the kids weren’t making noise, which they always were, so it was never quiet. Some of our group played 500. A few of us played a French card game. It had a name. I lost. All this transpired while the kids watched from the upper bunk. Then came dinner. We gave up the table and the kids ate dinner, then the 3 guys from somewhere had dinner, and we waited. Finally, it arrived, thanks to our leader, who did much of the preparation. It had rice, vegetables, and lots of garlic. Mmmmmm. It was euphoric to partake. It was capped off with Custard and Ginger Bread for dessert. All was dark, except for a few candles. Dinner concluded. The kids were asleep, quiet. We would await the morn.

Andrew arose early, eager to investigate the mountainous sky. It was clear and calm, he said. Whether he told the truth or not I was unaware, as I had no intention of crawling out of my sleeping bag. He had proposed the night before that if it was nice on Sunday, part of the group could finish the Southern Crossing, while the rest could head back down. Down, I like that word. The difference in time was 10 hours or 4 hours. 7 of us chose the former, and 4 of us, myself included, chose the latter. Off they went, and slowly the rest arose. Visibility was nill the previous day. We went up a bit and got a good view of Wellington, Kapiti Island, and the South Island. Then the fog rolled in again. We soon headed down, which sounds a lot more pleasant than it was. Repeatedly I wondered how I managed to go up the steep ascent, as the steep descent impacted one’s knees in a very unpleasant manner. We descended into the bush, and eventually got back to Otaki Forks, where we cleaned the mud off our boots (mud, there was lots of mud). It was at that moment that the rumored sandflies became reality. Wondering why my feet suddenly itched, I looked down (not happy in this instance), only to see my feet covered in sandflies. Frantically I cupped water onto my feet and brushed them away. Still they came. And I soon walked away from the river, bitten and bruised.

Peter, one of our group of 4, arranged for a friend of his to pick us up around 1pm on Sunday. We were quite thankful at his friend’s generosity, as it was nice to get back to Wellington with much of the day still remaining. Turns out we got back around the same time the Southern Crossing trampers finished, around 4:30pm. They did quite well to finish that quickly. I’m told the highlight of their trip was when they stumbled off trail and ended up in the middle of a hornet’s nest. But that’s not my story to tell…