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+===== Easter At The Warrumbungles. =====
+- Dot Butler
+It is two years since we camped in a thicket of trees outside the aerodrome at Bankstown waiting for a plane that never turned up. It was the Admiral's scheduled 1954 Easter trip to the Warrumbungles, but the pilot found he couldn't drag his plane out of the mud at Essenden to come and fetch us so we went elsewhere, promising ourselves that we would do our Warrumbungle trip another time.
+Came Easter, 1956, and we were on our way. Again we had looked into the possibility of planes for the 350 mile trip, but decided in the end that cars would be more reliable, as well as being a quarter the cost. There were 15 of us and 4 cars, and we left on Easter Thursday night at times varying between 4 and 12 p.m.
+Midnight found George's car parked in a windy paddock with George, the Dalai Lama, Snow and myself bedded down under a kurrajong tree among tall thistles and weeds that lent over and whipped our cheeks in the high wind. The boys slept like babes, and somebody snored, and a misty Easter moon circled the kurrajong tree all night.
+First light was pale and misty-eyed as we pushed our sleeping-bags into our packs and made our way through the weeds and thistles over a wire fence to the waiting car. There was no water here; we would have breakfast at the first creek we came to.
+We had passed the region of eucalypts and had entered into the life of the plains. Flocks of small parrots and galahs were feeding off the bare ground amongst the native pines. As we sped along the flat deserted road we saw a Morris Minor parked by a railway culvert and three figures grouped round a small cooking fire. "That looks like Garth," said Snow, and it __was__ Garth, and with him Brian Watson and his brother Don. We drove in and joined them for breakfast, and as we were eating, over the culvert clattered a train - the one we would have been in had we decided to give the Railways our patronage.
+At a quarter to nine we were at Dubbo with Snow hunting for film for his camera, but no chemists' shops were open. The only likely looking place was a paper shop which unfortunately didn't sell film, but the man gave Snow directions to another shop in Macquarry St. We waited patiently while Snow did the rounds of Dubbo at a run, but he failed to find Macquarry St. "You can't miss the place," the newsagent had said, waving vaguely in a general east-south-west direction, "It's just over there." Snow was disgusted and got into the car and went to sleep, and we moved off minus film. At Gilgandra we poked Snow awake and suggested another film hunt. "No," said a disgruntled voice, "It doesn't actually matter; I haven't got a lense in my camera anyway." This really shook George and the Dalai Lama who demanded to get to the bottom of it. "I plan to borrow Stitt's lense - if ever he gets here," murmured Snow as he sank off to sleep again.
+At about 12 o'clock we reached Tooraweenah. The whole place lay sunk in the sleep of death and a fine drizzling rain wept over its grave. A search round for signs of life revealed some at a half-open garage, and we went in and asked directions to Blackman's farm - this being the jumping-off place for the Hurley Base Camp under Belougerie. "Which Blackman?" asked the garage proprietor, and we experienced momentarily a lost sinking feeling. However, at last we were directed towards the farm of Keith Blackman, which looked to be in the right direction, and we said our thanks and got on our way. But we didn't get very far. At the first turn-off was a bridge, and breaking spasmodically on to its approaches was a battered lorry, its tray groaning under the weight of a WHOLE HOUSE! Someone had decided he didn't like the look of the district where he was and was shifting to a new location a bit further up the road. The house was all intact and through the windows we could see the furniture still in place and the washing up on the kitchen table waiting to be done. The owner was the sort of man who, when he decides to move, moves, and no nonsense! We trailed along in its rear and at last, when the road widened a bit, we were able to pass it and be on our way.
+Now came a session of opening and shutting gates. George's car was in the lead with Brian's following. At the first gate out leapt the Dalai Lama, threw open the gate for George, then banged it shut before the other car could get through and dashed back to home base. George looked a bit startled at this turn of events but was easily persuaded to drive on. There was a roar from the occupants of the Watson car and Garth leapt out like a cateract down a mountain side, opened the gate again for his car, closed the gate and dashed for his vehicle which was moving off in pursuit of George - all this before the shocked bewildered gaze of a stolid back-country family on their verandah.
+It was a neck and neck race to the next gate with us all laying the odds heavily in our own favour. There was a bit of a dry creek bed which held up the Watson babe and again we made it and slammed the gate in front of its nose. The Greymobile passengers screamed their delight and sped on. From then on the pace became fast and furious. Between gates the Dalai Lama hung on to his door handle quivering like a whippet on the leash, George kept his foot on the accelerator and the supressed excitement inside the car nearly blew its roof off.
+The Watson baby bounced and whirled along in pursuit, Garth almost falling out the door with eagerness. Whenever they managed to get through with us before the gate was shut they filled the air with cheers and jeers and yells of exultation. The only gate we found open was one with the inscription "Keep this bloody gate shut!!" As we found it open we left it open, but I still think we should have left it bloody shut.
+The next bit of excitement was crossing creeks. We had managed a number of these quite successfully but finally it had to happen - George drove into a creek with a sandy bottom, and the car stopped dead in a couple of feet of water. We pushed and we pulled and the car churned up the sand and sputtered water and exhaust fumes from it submerged pipe and sank deeper. Eventually we got it out, on the wrong side, with the aid of a section of wire netting and a cunningly disposed log of wood and decided that that was as far as mechanised transport would take us and now we must walk. Lunch was a slice of cake and a mug of beer from the Watson's bar and we were away. Over three more creek crossings to Blackman's farm. Here we were told that Col Ferguson, Digby and Dot Barr has passed through about half an hour before us, so we hurried on hoping to meet up with them.
+Down through an orchard and over lush paddocks where the grass grew waist high and was peppered with blue gentians, and then we followed up the creek for an hour or so. We didn't meet the others, and by 4 o'clock George, who had been there before, brought us to a rocky little area liberally laced with runnels of water, situated in a narrow valley, and said "This is the Hurley Base Camp." It looked the sort of camp you might make half way down Murdering Gulley, but it was undoubtedly "it" as an inscribed bottle top nailed to a tree clearly showed, so we set to and pitched camp. As there was room for only 4 or 5 tents we abdulled our three side by side to take up less room and leave a place for the others when they should arrive. This edifice we christened the Shooting Gallery. The Watsons, who intended going pig shooting after Easter, had two 303 rifles in their end tent and the tent at the other end housed our seven packs (the targets). All the rest of the bods occupied the space in between, mostly under the roof of Snow's tent as it was proofed with Digby Waterproofing and was supposed not to leak. (Mirthless laughter).
+About half an hour after our arrival we heard coo-ees and Col, Digby and Dot appeared from up another creek. They put up a tent and soon preparations for tea were under way. But Garth had a caribiner, and what is tea compared with a caribiner? He took the rope and climbed to an adjacent rock face to try out his new toy. Snow and I went with him as you can eat any time but you don't often get the chance to dance down a rock face on a rope. We had good fun but the others couldn't be induced to get their thoughts above stomach level. At dark we returned and had tea and all went early to bed.
+That night it rained, steadily and unhurriedly. The arsenal roof leaked and its occupants spent a good bit of the night excavating drains between their respective bodies to carry off the floodwaters.
+There had been mutinous murmurs when I had suggested rising at 6.30, but strange to say they did actually get up early and we were off by 8 o'clock to climb Belougerie, leaving a note for Pete to follow us when he arrived. "No need to take lunch," said George; "We'll be up and back in an hour." However we did take lunch as past experience has showed that returning to base camp for lunch generally means a wasted afternoon.
+The whole party came, up a scree slope and round to an obvious cleft up which we climbed. Then we came to the really steep stuff.
+We discarded footwear and got out the rope. George, Snow, Garth and myself set to while the others decided to watch. There was really not much choice of a route. The ledges were narrow and precarious with not many holds, and a fine rain made the grey lichen cover slippery and not particularly pleasant. Then we came to one very grizzly spot. It was a case of if we don't get up here we don't get up the mountain. It was an exposed corner where the wind roared like a wild thing and tore at the delicately balanced body. There were a couple of toe holds but no hand holds, and it was necessary to stand and lean out into the wind depending on nothing but the taut rope between myself and an inexpressibly messy finish. Garth belayed me faultlessly, and as I inched my life round the corner I thought, "a dependable companion on the other end of the rope is the fine gold of mountaineering", and I was thankful to Garth for being what he is.
-- Dot Butler fC'--
-It is two years
- f since we camped in a
-,.. 4, f3e. V fr-7
-thicket of trees outside k, the aerodrome at Bankstown
--...,_,.\\ never turned up. It was \,,x
-Easter trip to the
-the Admiral's scheduled
-waiting for a plane that
-\Warrumbungles, but the pilot
-,
-JN found he couldn't drag his plane out of the mud at Essenden to come and fetch us
-so we went elsewhere, promising ourselves that we would do our Warrumbungle trip another time.
-EASTER LT THE WARRUMBUNGLES
-\ z
-/ Came Easter, 1956, and we were on our
-/
-way, Agin we had looked into the
-C-1
-possibility of planes for the 350 mile
-//
-trip, but decided in the end that cars would
-be more reliable, as well as being a quarter the cost. There were 15 of us and 4 cars, and we left on Easter Thursday night at times varying between 4 and 12 p.m.
-Midnight found George's car parked in a windy paddock with George, the Dalai Laida, Snow ,nd myself bedded down under a kurrajong tree among tall thistles and weeds that lent over and whipped our cheeks in the high wind. The boys slept like babes, and somebody snored, end a misty Easter moon circled the kurrajong tree all night.
-First light was pale and misty-eyed as we pushed our sleeping- bags into our packs aid made our way through the weeds and thistles over a wire fence to the waiting car. There was no water here; we would have breakfast at the first creek we came to.
-We had passed the region of eucalypts and had entered into the life of the plains. Flocks of small parrots and galahs were feeding off the bare ground amongst the native pines. As we sped alLng the flat deserted road we saw a Morris Minor parked by a railway culvert and three figures grouped round a small cooking fire. "That looks
-like Garth," said Snow, and it was Garth, and with him Brian Watson and his brother Don. We drove in and joined them for breakfast, and as we were eating, over the culvert clattered a train - the one we would have been in had we decided to give the Railways our patronage.
-At a quarter to nine we were at Dubbo with Snow hunting for film for his camera, but no chemists' shops were open. The only likely looking place was a paper shop which unfortunately didn't sell film, but the man gave Snow directions to another shop in Macquarry St. We waited patiently while Snow did the rounds of Dubbo at a runs but he failed to find Macquarry St. "You can't miss Vae place," the newsagent had said, waving vaguely in a general east-south-west
-.
-direction, "It's just over there." Snow was disgusted and got into the car and went to sleep, and we moved off minus film. At Gilgandra we poked Snow awake and suggested another film hunt, "No," said a disgruntled voice, "It doesn't actually matter; I haven't got a lensE in my camera anyway." This really shook George and the Dalai Lama who demanded to get to the bottom of it. "I plan to borrow Stitt's lense - if everhe gets here," murmured Snow as he sank off to sleet again.
-about 12 o'clock we reached Tooraweenah. The whole place lay sunk in the sleep of death and a fine drizzling rain wept over its grave. A search round for signs of life revealed some at a half=open garage, and we went in and asked directions to Blackman's farm - this being the jumping-off place for the Hurley Base Camp under Belougerie. "Which Blackman?" asked the garage proprietor, and we
-experienced momentarily a lost sinking feeling. However, at last we were directed towards the farm of Keith Blackman, which looked to be in the right direction, and we said our thanks and got on our way. But we didn't get very far. At the first turn-off was a bridge, and breaking spasmodically on to its approaches was a battered lorry, its tray groaning under the weight of a WHOLE HOUSE'. Someone had decided he didn't like the look of the district where he was and was shifting to a new location a bit further up the road. The house was all intact and through the windows we could see the furniture still in place and the washing up on the kitchen table waiting to be done. The owner was the sort of man who, when he decides to move, moves, and no nonsense l We trailed al-mg in its rear and at last, when the road widened a bit, we were able to pass it and be on our way.
-Now came a session of opening and shutting gates. George's car was in the lead with Brian's following. At the first gate out leapt
-the Dalai Lama, threw open the gate for George, then banged it shut before the other car could get through and dashed back to home base. George looked a bit startled at this turn of events but was easily
-persuaded to drive on. There was a roar from the occupants of the Watson car and Garth leapt out like a cateract down a mountain side, opened the gate again for his car, closed the gate and dashed for his vehicle which was moving off in pursuit of George - all this before the shocked bewildered gaze of a stolid back-country family on their verandah.
-It was a neck and neck race to the next gate with us all laying the odds heavily in our own favour. There was a bit of a dry creek bed which held up the Watson babe and again we made it and slammed the gate in front of its nose. The Greymobile passengers screamed
-their delight and sped on. From then on the pace became fast and
-furious. Between gates the Dalai Lama hung on to his door handle quivering like a whippet on the leash, George kept his foot on the accelerator and the supressed excitement inside the car nearly blew its roof off.
-The Watson baby bounced and whirled along in pursuit, Garth
-almost falling out the doorwith eagerness. Whenever they managed to get through with us before the gate was shut they filled the air
-with cheers and jeers and yells of exultation. The only gate we
-found open was one with the inscription "Keep this bloody gate shutlI"
-As we found it open we left it open, but I still think we should. have left it bloody shut.'
-.
-The next bit of excitement was crossing creeks. We had managed a number of these quite successfully but finally it had to happen -
-George drove into a creek with a sandy bottom, and the car stopped dead in a couple of feet of water. We pushed and we pulled and the
-car churned up the sand and sputtered water and exhaust fumes from it submerged pipe and sank deeper. Eventually we got it out, on the wrong side, with the aid of a section of wire netting and a oanningly
-disposed lop: of wood and decided that that was as far as mechanised transport would take us and now we must walk. Lunch was a slice of
-take and a mug of beer from the'Watson's bar and we were away. Over
-three more creek crossings to Blacknan's farm. Here we were told that Col Ferguson, Digby and Dot Barr has passed through about half an hour before us, so we hurried on hoping to meet up with them.
-Down through an orchard and over lush paddocks where the grass
-grew waist high and was peppered with blue gentians, and then we followed up the creek for an hour or so. We didn't meet the others,
-and by 4 o'clock George, who had been there before, brought us to a rocky little area liberally laced with runnels of water, situated in
-a narrow valley, and said "This is the Hurley Base Camp." It looked the sort of camp you might make half way down Murdering Gulley, but
-it was undoubtedly "it" as an inscribed bottle top nailed to a tree clearly showed, so we set to and pitched camp. As there was room for only 4 or 5 tents we abdulled our three side by side to take up less room and leave a place for the others when they should arrive. This edifice we christened the Shooting Gallery. The Watsons,.who intend6, going pig shooting after Easter, had two 303 rifles in their end tent
-and the tent at the other end housed our seven packs the targets). All the rest of the bode occupied the space in between, mostly under the roof of Snow's tent as it was proofed with Digby Waterproofing and was supposed not to leak. (Mirthless laughter).
-About half an hour after our arrival we heard coo-ees and Col,
-Digby and Dot appeared from up another creek. They put up a tent and soon preparations for tea were under way. But Garth had a caribiner, and what is tea compared with a caribiner? He took the rope and climbed to an adjacent rock face to try out his new toy. Wady and I went with him as you can eat any time but you don't often
-,
-the chance to dance down a rock face on a rope. We had good fun
-the others couldn't be induced to get their thoughts above stomac'. lev:l. At dark we returned and had tea and all went early to bed.
-That night it rained, steadily and unhurriedly. The arsenal
-roof leaked End its occupants spent a good bit of the night excavatin,7, drains between their respective bodies to carry off the floodwaters.
-There had been mutinous murmurs when I had suggested rising at 6.30, but strange to say they did actually get up early and we were off by 8 o'clock to climb Belougerie, leaving a note for Pete to follow us when he arrived. "No need to take lunch," said George;
-"We'll be up and back in an hour." However we did take lunch as past
-experience has showed that returning to base camp for lunch generally means a wasted afternoon.
-_ The whole party came, up a scree slope and round to an obvious cleft up which we climbed. Then we came to the really steep stuff.
-.
-We discarded footwear and got out the rope. George, Snow, Garth and myself setjAwhile the others decided to watch. There was really not much choice of a route. The ledges were narrow and precarious with not many holds, and a fine rain made the grey lichen cover slippery and not particularly pleasant. Then we came to one very grizzly spot. It was a case of if we don't get up here we don't get up the mountain. It was an exposed corner where the wind roared like a wild thing and tore at the delicately balanced body. There were a couple of toe holds but no hand holds, and it was necessary to stand and lean out into the wind depending on nothing but the taut rope between myself and an inexpressibly messy finish. Garth belayed me faultless ly, and as I inched my life round the corner I thought, "a dependable companion,on the other end of the rope is the fine gold of mountaineering,and I was thankful to Garth for being what he is.
 Having got our tow-line up to a good belay George and Garth followed, but when they untied themselves off the rope and we tried to throw the end down for Snow, the updraught of wind was so terrific it blew the 120 ft. of rope up to waver in the air as in an Indian rope-climber's trick. We scrambled round to another spot out of the wind and dropped the rope down a chimney, but here it was not in a good position for Snow and reluctantly we decided we would have to leave him behind. It was not an easy decision.
-As George, Garth and I proceeded upwards we could see the others had gone over to a hill opposite to get a grandstand view of the proceedings. A long view of the whole face, as seen from opposite, reveals it as completely and utterly impossible, but with our noses only a couple of inches from the damp rock we couldn't get this impression, so continued. Eventually there was a chimney blocked by chockstones, arid this was as far as George had got on a previous occasion. A bit of muscle applied to the chockstones loosened them and I tossed them down one by one. They made a most impressive crashing as they went, and later we found one had narrowly missed braining the Dalai Lama who had not gone with the others but was waiting for us down below.
-The chimney was practically vertical all the way to the top, but being a chimney it was climable so we all got up it and so to the top- at last. Here was the usual cairn, and in it we found Pat Sullivan's name together with a party of Melbourne University Bushwalkers. We tried to pick out our camp but it-was hidden in the trees.
+As George, Garth and I proceeded upwards we could see the others had gone over to a hill opposite to get a grandstand view of the proceedings. A long view of the whole face, as seen from opposite, reveals it as completely and utterly impossible, but with our noses only a couple of inches from the damp rock we couldn't get this impression, so continued. Eventually there was a chimney blocked by chockstones, and this was as far as George had got on a previous occasion. A bit of muscle applied to the chockstones loosened them and I tossed them down one by one. They made a most impressive crashing as they went, and later we found one had narrowly missed braining the Dalai Lama who had not gone with the others but was waiting for us down below.
-Then down we went again to the windy corner. A cold sleet-like' wind was biting at our exposed hands making rope work far from dheerful. George and Garth were belayed down. I followed on a double
-rope which we intended to pull down after us but the perverse thing stuck and no amount of pulling or flicking would dislodge it. 1 wap rather dismayed at the thought of having to go back up to release it but also felt guilty about. going down and leaving it. "I should go back for it,". said I,. not very convincingly, but Co-leader Coulter said "No." (That's what you have a Co-leader for - to stop you - from doing what you don't want to do.) We finished the descent without the rope and joined the Dalai Lama down below and had /unch; 4- hours after having started the climb.
+The chimney was practically vertical all the way to the top, but being a chimney it was climable so we all got up it and so to the top at last. Here was the usual cairn, and in it we found Pat Sullivan's name together with a party of Melbourne University Bushwalkers. We tried to pick out our camp but it was hidden in the trees.
-We returned to camp about 3 o'clock to find Pete and the Admiral
-.
+Then down we went again to the windy corner. A cold sleet-like wind was biting at our exposed hands making rope work far from cheerful. George and Garth were belayed down. I followed on a double rope which we intended to pull down after us but the perverse thing stuck and no amount of pulling or flicking would dislodge it. I was rather dismayed at the thought of having to go back up to release it but also felt guilty about going down and leaving it. "I should go back for it," said I, not very convincingly, but Co-leader Coulter said "No." (That's what you have a Co-leader for - to stop you from doing what you don't want to do.) We finished the descent without the rope and joined the Dalai Lama down below and had lunch, 4 1/2 hours after having started the climb.
-had just arrived and were waiting to have my blood. I had given
-them a sketch map drawn by someone who had done the trip previously - which, incidentally, they had left in the glove box - but they followed it from memory and it led them on a rough and completely unnecessary detour for a mile or so over the hills in heavy mist
+We returned to camp about 3 o'clock to find Pete and the Admiral had just arrived and were waiting to have my blood. I had given them a sketch map drawn by someone who had done the trip previously - which, incidentally, they had left in the glove box - but they followed it from memory and it led them on a rough and completely unnecessary detour for a mile or so over the hills in heavy mist which fogged up the Admiral's glasses making him practically blind. What added fuel to the flames of their wrath was the fact that I had not gone on this wild goose chase myself but had cosily and comfortably followed George who knew a quicker way straight up the creek. I tried to plead Not Guilty and told them that anyhow they needed a bit of extra exercise to get them into training for a forthcoming Marathon, but that sort of talk gets you exactly nowhere with Stitt and the Admiral. There were muttered threats of repercussions to take place at the next Reunion, so I was all a-tremble with apprehension.
-which foged up the Admiral's glasses making him practically blind.
-What added fuel to the flames of their wrath was the fact that I had:
+They told us that Bob Binks and family were camped about one hour back down the creek so we downed a cup of tea and ran back to greet them. The field spread out like the Grand National as we galloped with long-legged Stitt in the lead, but we arrived all in a bunch at the finishing tape. The Binks were comfortably established and decided to stay where they were as it was now 4 p.m. The next hour was spent instructing Pete and the Admiral on the conditions of their return, should they decide to travel back to Sydney in Bob's car. The gist of it seemed to be: "If it's wet we'll leave after breakfast to-morrow and go back to the car. If it's fine we'll stay here another day. If it's in between we'll stay here till afternoon." Ah, but what does "in between" mean? "Put it this way," said the photographers, "If it's F8 at 1/50 you stay. If it's 2.8 at 1/25 you go. If it's..." ...and they proceeded to argue the conditions of the third clause when the Dalai Lama interrupted; "Put it this way -
-not gone on this wild goose chase myself but had cosily and comfort-
-ably followed George who knew a quicker way straight up the creek. I tried to plead Not Guilty and told them that anyhow they needed a
+Rain and thunder, home we chunder.\\
-bit of extra exercise to get them into training for a forthcoming
+Fine and gay here we stay."
-Marathon, but that sort of talk gets you exactly nowhere with Stitt and the 1,dmirale There were muttered threats of repercussions to
-take place at the next Reunion, so I was all a-tremble with apprehension.
-They told us that Bob Binks and family were camped about one hour back down the ci,eek so we downed a cup of tea and ran back to
-greet them. The field spread out like the Grand National as we gallo pcd with long-legged Stitt in the lead, but we arrived all in a bunch at the finishing tape. The Binks were comfortably established
-and decided to stay where they were as it was now 4 p.m. The next
-hour was spent instructing Pete and the Admiral on the conditions of their return, should they decide to travel back to Sydney in Bob's car. The gist of it seemied to be: "If-it's wet we'll leave after breakfast to-morrow and go back to the car. If it's fine we'll stay here another day. If it's in between we'll stay here till afternoon.' Ah, but what does "in between" ilq.ean? "Put it this way," said the photographers, "If it's F8 at 5-6 you stay. If it's 2.8 at i3 you go.
-If it's. ..,and they proceeded to argue the conditions of the
-third clause when the Dalai Lama interrupted; "Put it this way -
-Rain and thunder, home we chunder.
-Fine and gcy here we stay."
 That seemed to cover the situation, so they left it at that.
-We left them at 5 and so back to our camp. That night we lit a candle and all twelve of us packed into the Shooting Gallery for talk and fun. George spent a very profitable evening anihillating with a lighted candle the mosquitoes which swarmed into the tent to join the
-fun. Pete's New Zealand experiences gushed out in a bright and
+We left them at 5 and so back to our camp. That night we lit a candle and all twelve of us packed into the Shooting Gallery for talk and fun. George spent a very profitable evening anihillating with a lighted candle the mosquitoes which swarmed into the tent to join the fun. Pete's New Zealand experiences gushed out in a bright and sparkling tide, and with the pick of the Club's wits there in the shape of Digby, the Admiral and the Dalai Lama, backed up by Snow, Garth and the rest of us, screams of mirth issued forth to make the mountains ring, and we felt sorry for Bob and Noel and their little girl all alone down the quiet creek.
-sparkling tide, and with the pick of the Club's wits there in the
-shape of Digby, the Admiral and the Dalai Lama, backed up by Snow,
+At last sleep called. Brian tied a bottle of mosquito lotion by a tape to the roof of the tent for use during the night and we all packed in. Pete and the Admiral had to be housed too, and with six bods now in Snow's tent I knew what the sardine puts up with in its tin. What with somebody snoring in my ear and somebody's elbow gouging out my eye I gave up the unequal struggle and mooched out at midnight to find a better hole. It was raining, which ruled the great outdoors out, so I retired to roost on the wet sloping floor of the pack tent, which was a bit grim, and cursed the mob back yonder for lying so heavily on my ground sheet I couldn't get it out from under them.
-Garth and the rest of us, screams of mirth issued forth to make the mountains ring, and we felt sorry for Bob and Noel and their little girl all alone down the quiet creek.
-At last sleep called. Brian tied a bottle of mosquito lotion
+After breakfast next morning we moved off early to collect the abandoned rope and reconnoitre Crater Bluff. It wasn't so difficult to climb back up the rope now the wind wasn't blowing a gale. I released it from behind the stone, and double roping over a small tree I sat myself in a boss's chair and tossed the other end down to Pete and Snow who were going to carry out the lowering operation. As I launched myself into space and looked down between my feet I could see my two stalwarts way down below digging at each other and holding an animated conversation and giving their wholehearted attention to everything except the job of lowering down the dangling body above them. I felt insecure.
-by a tape to the roof of the tent for use during the night and we all
-packed in. Pete and the Admiral had to be housed too, and with six bods now in Snow's tent I knew what the sardine puts up with in its tin. What with somebody snoring in my ear and somebody's elbow
-gouging out my eye I gave up the unequal struggle and mooched out at midnight to find a better hole. It was raining, which ruled the gr&at outdoors out, so I retired to roost on the wet sloping floor of the pack tent, which was a bit grim, and cursed the mob back yonder for
-lying so heavily on my ground sheet I couldn't get it out from under
-them.
-e
-After breakfast next morning we moved off early to collect the abandoned rope and reconnoitre Crater Bluff. It wasn't so difficult to climb back up the rope now the wind wasn't blowing a gale. I released it from behind the stone, and double roping over a small tree I sat myself in a bos's's chair and tossed the other end down to Pete and Snow who were going to carry out the lowering operation. Ls I launched myself into space and looked down between my feet I could see my two stalwarts way down below digging at each other and holding an animated conversation and giving their wholehearted attention to everything except the job of lowering down the dangling body above them. I felt insecure.
 "Come on," yelled Peter. "Down you come."
-"That's not my business," I shouted back. "You've got to lower me dawn.
-wiz!" yelled back Pete, and I supposed that meant he had caught on becuase the lowering process commenced. As I jerked down the rock face past an overharg suddenly the rope stopped.
+"That's not my business," I shouted back. "You've got to lower me down."
+"Swiz!" yelled back Pete, and I supposed that meant he had caught on becuase the lowering process commenced. As I jerked down the rock face past an overhang suddenly the rope stopped.
 "Keep on coming," yelled Snow and Stitt.
 "That's your business," I shouted at them.
-They let the rope slack but I still dangled motionless over aeons of space. 0 Horrors The rope had stuck; I climbed back up it and released it, then launched myself again, but again the rope refused to run freely so I climbed up again to the belay tree, wonder-
-ing was mountaineering such a sport after all, and sat down to think.
+They let the rope slack but I still dangled motionless over aeons of space. O Horror! The rope had stuck! I climbed back up it and released it, then launched myself again, but again the rope refused to run freely so I climbed up again to the belay tree, wondering was mountaineering such a sport after all, and sat down to think. But Garth came to the rescue by sending up his caribiner loop of rope, I looped this round the tree, hoping Garth's splice was as secure as it looked, passed the climbing rope through and gave the signal to Snow and Stitt to lower away - and this time it worked. They were blythely viewing the far scenery as I descended. "See that creek down there Dot," called Pete as I dangled 30 ft. above his head, "That's the one the Admiral and I came up yesterday." (Ho ho. Patience my soul!) I didn't answer, and by the time I arrived safely down at their ledge I had had time to count ten.
-But Garth came to the rescue by sending up his caribiner loop of rope, I looped this round the tree, hoping Garth's splice was as secure as it looked, passed the climbing rope through and gave the signal to
-Snow and Stitt to lower away - and this time it worked. They were
+Then we came down and rejoined the others and went over to the short face of Crater Bluff and had lunch in sunshine. "You never forget a mountain," I said, but nevertheless I found it difficult to recognise the place I had climbed before. None of the places I tried out looked suitable for the party, so we went down to have a look at the steep face, which was where Dr. Dark and I had made our virgin climb years before. Garth had cut his foot during the barefoot doings on Belougerie the previous day and was hors de combat, so George, Snow and I had a short climb on the ledges and decided to come back again tomrrow. Then we all went down to the creek and followed up the ridge to the base of Belougerie and so back to camp. Here we had to give our attention to food troubles. The humidity had wrought havoc with our meat. The Dalai Lama had already cooked up all his on the first night, which left him with 6 lbs. of potatoes, 2 pkts. of cornflakes and a tin of sardines for the ensuing 4 days, and I had to jettison some suasages and the remains of a cooked sirloin. However we all cashed in on the Watsons' surplus and nobody went hungry.
-blythely viewing the far scenery as I descended. "See that creek
-down ther Dot," called Pete as I dangled 30 ft. above his head, "That's the one the Admiral and I came up yesterday." (Ho ho.Patience my soul;) I didn't answer, and by the tire I arrived safely down at their ledge I had had time to count ten.
+Monday saw us early astir on a nice fine day and off we all set direct to Crater Bluff. Garth was nursing his injured foot, so it was George Snow and I for it. We left the others down in the creek and made up to our ledges in sunshine. They were the same hair-raising ledges as of yore, and as I wedged myself into the remembered crack on the sheer face I could see myself, a raw teenager so long and long ago, quivering with excitement, my breath trembling with eagerness as, with my experienced companion, I made my first virgin climb. I supposed that was how Snow was feeling, and probably George too. It was a pity we weren't able to finish, but we had come to a very tricky lichen-covered bulge which defied the combined tactics of George and myself, and now the rain started and made the situation hopeless. We realised it would be suicide to try to go on over the slippery lichen, but hanging over us like a threat was also the knowledge that we had to get back again the way we had come.
-Then we came down and rejoined the others and went over to the
-short face of Crater Bluff and had lunch in sunshine. "you never forget a mountain," I said, but nevertheless I found it difficult to recognise the place I had climbed before. None of the places I tried
+We crouched under a slight overhang while it rained and occupied our minds with dark thoughts of what lay in store for us. If only the sun would come out for a while and dry out the ledges! We waited and waited. Far down below we saw a pterodactyl squatting on a limb with its rain-drenched grey leathery wings half-furled, but it turned out to be Garth in his parka up a tree for a better view. We tried to carry on a shouted conversation with the tiny figures down in the trees, but with not much success. A brief flash of sunshine didn't do much towards drying out the rock face, and the sight of another gloomy rain cloud sweeping across decided us to make the attempt. So Snow yelled them a final message, "Rain and thunder, off we chunder!" and we braced up our minds aad our muscles for the ordeal ahead. Actually it was not so bad as our apprehension had painted it, and at last we were back to safety. We went down and joined the others and had lunch on the creek, and Snow and George that day gained a valuable bit of knowledge that will stand them in good stead when they go to New Zealand next Christmas, namely that bad weather can kill your chances of a successful climb.
-out looked suitable for the party, so we went down to have a look at the steep face, which was where Dr, Dark and I had made our virgin
- climb years before. Garth had cut his foot during the barefoot
+As we headed back to camp up the ridge Snow and I started a wonderful argument which lasted most of the way over the top. Someone asked us had we noticed something further back, but no, all we had seen was a red haze before our eyes as we argued, if I remember rightly, what a saddle was and whether you could expect to find a creek flowing through it or over it or what not. Gee, life would be quiet without vocal lovable Snow. He actually likes to argue with unreasonable females. The Dalai Lama warned him this was a very dangerous admission to make.
-doings on Belougerie the previous day and was hors de combat, so George, Snow and I had a short climb on the ledges and decided to
+Garth, limping along on his injured foot, lugged the rope over the countryside, and as we couldn't get it from him by force we had finally to resort to subterfuge. We went via the long side of the Breadknife and tried to pick out the way Russ Kippax and the English rock-climber had taken to the summit. And so back to camp and tea. Our last night. As it wasn't actually raining Garth and the Dalai Lama and I slept out by the expiring fire, but it was wet and muddy and moonless and much of the magic was missing.
-come back again tomrrow. Then we all went down to the creek and
-followed up the ridge to the base of Belougerie and so back to camp.
+Tuesday, and it's tine to pack up and set off for home. The proposed early start got later and later. We didn't want to go. When we did finally get moving we made good pace and got from the camp to the cars in 1 1/2 hours. And here the Watsons discovered they still had a number of bottles of beer left, so out came the mugs.
-Here we had to give our attention to food troubles. The humidity had
-wrought havoc with our meat. The Dalai Lama had already cooked up
+Through an alcoholic rainbow I viewed the day and its inhabitants. It was a day such as you only get on the plains, dry and sunny and limitless - and I had never seen people who looked so beautiful. There was Brian, dark and compact and finely formed, deftly knocking the tops off bottles, assisted by tall quiet brother Don with the deep dreamy eyes and soft smile of a poet. On the gnarled roots of a river oak sat Snow, golden haired and golden skinned, looking like a section of sun-dappled bushland that had impulsively decided to turn human. And Garth, dark as the coming of sleep and as soft, with his lovely lilting voice music to the ear. And George - quiet steady George who had met me coming back from my separate swim and said, "I'll just go on ahead if you like and see that the Dalai Lama's got his pants on," "If you like," said I, thinking that a pair of shorts would probably spoil the bronze statuesque line, but he'd better get them on just the same. George said, "O.K. We got his pants on him," so we all foregathered down at the river. The moments flowed in a silver stream through Time's careless fingers as we finished off the other three bottles, and I thought, "God, that flesh could grow so beautiful," and I wished Geof and Grace were with us, because they, too, are lovely to look upon. Then there we were, floating down the road to the cars - drifting like woodsmoke through the still dry air - and if we get in to Tooraweenah by 10 o'clock, all right; and if we don't get there till 12, all right; and if we don't get there till 2, all right again. We got there at 2.
-all his on the first night, which left him with 6 lbs, of potatoes,
-pkts, of cornflakes and a tin of sardines for the ensuing 4 days,
+And so the long journey home under the sky heaped with clouds with periods of bright sunshine and sudden rain squalls, and at 11 p.m. we reached Blacktown and the Waggs. A cup of tea and a chat with the family in pyjamas while the boys sorted out their cars, then heigh-ho for home by midnight.
-and I had to jettison some suasages and the remains of a cooked sirloin. However we all cashed in on the Watsons' surplus and nobody
-went hungry.
+----
-Monday saw us early astir on a nice fine day and off we all set xlirect to Crater Bluff. Garth was nursing his injured foot, so it
-er.,L.19
+On reading through this I find it is more about people than mountains, and so it should be; the mountains will always be there to be described another time, but how soon will time take away our friends.
-was George Snow and I for it. We left the others down in the creek and made up to our ledges in sunshine. They were the same hair- raising ledges as of yore, and as I wedged myself into the remembered
-crack on the sheer face I could see myself, a raw teenager so long and long ago, quivering with excitement, my breath trembling with eagerness as, with my experienced companion, I made my first virgin
+----
-climb. I supposed that was how Snow was feeling, and probably
-George too. It was a pity we weren't able to finish, but we had come to a very tricky lichen-covered bulge which defied the combined tactics of George and myself, and now the rain started and made the situation hopeless. We realised it would be suicide to try to go on over the slippery lichen, but hanging over us like a threat was also the knowledge that we had to get back again the way we had come.
-We crouched under a slight overhand while it rained and occupied our minds with dark thoughts of what lay in store for us. If only the sun would come out for a while and dry out the ledges1 We waited and waited. Far down below we saw a pterodactyl squatting on a limb with its rain-drenched grey leathery wings half-furled, but it turned out to be Garth in his parka up a tree for a better view. We tried to carry on a shouted conversation with the tiny figures down
-in the trees, but with not much success. A brief flash of sunshine
-didn't do much towards drying out the rock face, and the sight of another gloomy rain cloud sweeping across decided us to make the attempt. So Snow yelled them a final message, "Rain and thunder, off we chunderl" and we braced up our minds aad our muscles for the
-ordea/-ahead. Actually it was not so bad as our apprehension had
-painted it, and at last we were back to safety. We went down and joined the others and had lunch on the creek, and Snow and George that day gained a valuable bit of knowledge that will stand them in good stead when they go to New Zealand next Christmas, namely that bad weather can kill your diances of a successful climb.
-As we headed back to camp up the ridge Snow and I started a wonderful argument which lasted most of the way over the top. Someor asked us had we noticed something further back, but no, all we had seen was a red haze before our eyes as we argued, if I remember right ly, what a saddle was and whether you could expect to find a creek flowing through it or over it or what not. Gee, life would be quiet
-without vocal lovable Snow. He actually likes to argue with unreason
-able females. The Dalai Lama warned him this was a very dangerous admission to make.
-Garth, limping along on his injured foot, lugged the rope over the countryside, and as we couldn't get it from him by force we had finally to resort to subterfuz.e. We went via the long side of the Breadknife and tried to pick out the way Russ Kipioax and the English
-rock-climber had taken to the summit. And so back to camp and tea.
-Our last night. As it wasn't actually raining Garth and the Dalai Lama and I slept out by the expiring fire, but it was wet and muddy
-and moonless and much of the magic was missing.
-Tuesday, and it's tine to pack up and set off for home. The proposed early start got later and later. We didn't want to go.
-When we did finally get moving we made good pace and got from the camp to the cars in al hours. And here the Watsons discovered they
-still had a number of bottles of beer left, so out came the mugs.
-,
-Through an alcoholic rainbow I viewed the day and its inhabitants It was a day such as you only get on the plains, dry and sunny and limitless - and I had never seen people who looked so beautiful. There was Brian, dark and compact and finely formed, deftly knocking the tops off bottles, assisted by tall quiet brother Don with the deep dreamy eyes and soft mile of a poet. On the gnarled roots of a river oak sat Snow, golden haired and golden skinned, looking like a section of 'sun-dappled bushland that had impulsively decided to turn human. And Garth, dark as the coming of sleep and as soft, with his lovely lilting voice music to the ear. ;,nd George - quiet
-steady George who had met inc coming back from my separate swim and said, "I'll just go on ahead if you like and see that the Dalai LamalE
-got his pants on," "If you like," said Is thinking that a pair of
-shorts would probably spoil the bronze statuesque line, but he'd
-better get them on just the same. George said, "O.K. We got his
- pants on him," so we all foregathered down at the river. The moments flowed in a silver stream through Time's careless fingers as we finished off the other three bottles, and I thought, "God, that flesh could grow so beautiful," and I wished Goof and Grace were with us, because they, too, are lovely to look upon. Then there we were,
-floating down the road to the cars - drifting like woodsmoke through the still dry air - and if we get in to Tooraweenah by
-o'clock, all right; and if we don't get tnere till 12, all right;
-and if we don't geu there till 20 all right again. We got there at 20
-nd so the long journey homeunder the sky heaped with clouds with periods of bright sunshine and sudden rain squalls, and at 5
-p.m. we reached Blacktown and the Waggs. 1_ cup of tea and a chat with the family in pyjamas while the boys sorted out their cars, then
-heigh-ho for home by midnight.
-On reading through this I find it is more about people than
-mountains, and so it should be; the mountains will always be there to be described another time, but how soon will time take away our friends.
 THE WORST JOURNEY IN THE WORLD
 Goof Wagg.