196604
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- | Like the song says, maybe I __do__ dream about climbing from morning till night, but you don't always get it good. Like this time I'm going to tell you about. | ||
- | Duncan and me and Cameron and Gerry have just been ten days up the head of the Matuki, hoping to climb that inhospitable heap Mt. Thundergut not to mention sundry others, but the weather has been nothing if not lousy so we have come out again with nothing up our sleeves except you might say snow chuff. In between spine-bashing in our fleabags and digging a great monstrous snow-cave which we don't manage to live in anyhow because who would with a nice warm dry hut close by, we do a few real pioneering excursions over the Bonar Glacier. The glacier is carved up with God knows how many crevasses only you can't see them in the whiteout, and a muckle great number of them you can't see anyhow because they have a light snow roof over them. In spite of his Doctor of Science degree Duncan is not all that educated with respect to slots and he spends a goodly part of his time falling into them. | + | =====Bold Wozziborn.===== |
- | So like I said we've given the Matukl away and have come out to Wanaka and are waiting for a bus to take us over the Haast Pass to the West Coast side. By jingo the weather had better be better over there or Hughie will be getting his face smashed in. | + | (Tune: Bill Brink). Dot Butler. |
- | With an hour to bus time we gets to looking at the local burg and we sees this new two-storey building going up and up top, leaning over the parapet, is one of those wheel thingos that they use to haul up barrow loads of bricks and mortar. | + | There once was a walker called Why Wozziborn\\ |
+ | Who dreamt about climbing from night until morn;\\ | ||
+ | He'd take his friends climbing, | ||
+ | He'd even take charlies who hadn't a clue. | ||
- | "What an archaic device," | + | On his first canyon trip a brash newcomer came -\\ |
+ | His climbing was poor and he abseiled | ||
+ | He used every gadget both shining and new\\ | ||
+ | To show off the fact that he hadn't a clue. | ||
- | Duncan replies | + | When it came to long abseils |
+ | Which he'd haul out all smiling | ||
+ | Chrome-plated | ||
+ | Cooling-fins bristling | ||
- | Well, we gets into the bus and eight hours later are flung out at some crazy spot on the west coast wilderness. Up yonder the icy mass of the Fox Glacier comes hurtling down a good 10 thousand feet from the Main Range to sea level, and up it we have to lug our packs and snow-shovels, dammit, to 9,000 ft. where we are going to dig a snow-cave as bivvy base for some mighty high climbing around Cook and Tasman. | + | In wait for an abseil - a descent |
+ | " | ||
+ | It hung at his belt in his gleaming array\\ | ||
+ | Lurking for nylon to melt down and fray. | ||
- | Well the bus has left us and we don't get any bonus for hanging around so we shoulders our packs and away. Godawlmighty! mine is weighing nothing if not half a ton and I am wondering did I really pack in so much garbage that I can hardly stand upright but go buckling at the knees like I'm half tight. | + | Steep Davies Canyon |
+ | For a mighty beaut abseil with quite a long drop\\ | ||
+ | And the swivel-necked swamp-bits all jostle to see\\ | ||
+ | The climbers who gamble with death for no fee. | ||
- | We shambles over the grey monotonous moraine type stones for hour after hour and it's beginning to get more than somewhat tedious. I wonder am I sickening for something on account of my pack is beginning to be getting almost too much for me. Then we comes to the white ice and Boy, is she cut up with crevasses! | + | Now our lad, having come to a strenuous climb,\\ |
+ | Adjusted his brain-child around his lifeline, | ||
+ | Flipped off the rope ends, checked the belay,\\ | ||
+ | Gave a spring downward and hurtled away. | ||
- | " | + | O how can I tell of the horror and pain\\ |
+ | Of that dreadful descent and his fall into shame\\ | ||
+ | For his britches did strip on the infernal device\\ | ||
+ | Which exposed his anatomy | ||
- | " | + | Down at the Club where the Bushwalkers go\\ |
- | + | Whywozzi tells a story and he ought to know;\\ | |
- | "For this experiment," | + | He says down in Davies |
- | + | Hanging from a frayed rope still held by his strides. | |
- | So before I can say anything they have me grabbed and strung up, and there is Duncan explaining that he is going to lower me into the crevasse and he will then proceed to bring me out easily and painlessly and all the rest of the rhubarb that only Duncan can spout forth when he's really steamed up. I can see I'll get exactly nowhere arguing, what with them being three to one. Better get it over quickly, so I poise myself on the brink, shout "Goff, goff and we're off!" and leap into the blue depths. | + | |
- | + | ||
- | I am brought to a rib-crushing stop 120 ft. down, just short of a needle-sharp stalagmite of ice that is sticking up. Duncan is shouting abuse from above and it appears he's peeved at me for jumping before he had time to put his gloves on so that he got his hands burnt. | + | |
- | + | ||
- | The next step in the big rescue is he shoots my pack in tied to the other end of the rope. It is, of course, heavier than me, and as it comes hurtling down I goes roaring up. The pack frame gives me a hefty welt as it screams past me, and I continue on up to crash my head on the overhung lip of the crevasse and get my whiskers tangled up in the pulley. | + | |
- | + | ||
- | Seeing that the loaded pack is heavier than me, the good old No.3 mylon stretches an extra couple of feet which is just enough to make it reach the aforesaid ice stalagmite. This rips up the side of my beaut Mountain Mule and out pours the stones. | + | |
- | + | ||
- | The pack, now lighter than met comes rushing up again and deals me a glancing blow on the hip as I pass it on my way down again. When I come to rest I find I am pinned | + | |
- | + | ||
- | I am making huge efforts to extricate myself, what time I'm shouting choice excerpts of the Queen' | + | |
- | + | ||
- | Like I said, it's all right to have dreams about climbing, but you don't always get it good. | + | |
196604.txt · Last modified: 2016/08/01 14:15 by tyreless