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Kahurangi National Park, Nelson, New Zealand. 10-14 March, 2004

PUB: the HONEST LAWYER, Nelson
(MIS)CHIEF ORGANISER: (Mad) Mike Petzold, assisted by (Muesli) Verena
PRESENT: five stalwarts (all ex-Malawi) — Mike Petzold, Verena Petzold, Jean Hayward, Sue Stiles, Neil Stiles. (The Vicar of Leeds, Robin Rainbow, was unable to make it at the last moment, yet again)

So it was Neil and Sue Stiles (Sue did ANY climbing until a couple of years ago, and now does long distance walks, and Meths meets with Neil — he is delighted, and so are we. She is very good with words and always regales us with newly created rhymes and limericks), and Jean Hayward (Peters), who unfortunately this time could not share her pack with partner Andrew, like in previous years, as he had to stay at home and take delivery of 120 deer, moved onto their property near Murchison on a share-farming basis, by none other than our landlord (who previously was a deer farmer in Southland and needed new agistment for his remaining herd. Complicated life, isn't it?

So, the five of us climbed up to Mt Richmond hut, in the usually empty Richmond Forest Reserve, met with two hunters already ensconced in the hut (sleeps eight), plus two dogs and several joints of wild deer and wild boar, dangling from hut joists and neighbouring trees. We stayed three nights, had additional visitors each night, (how come they all had the same good idea to visit here?), climbed Mt Richmond (three did it twice, plus over to the base of Mt Fell, where they had to turn back as clouds came down with a vengeance). The next day, we tackled one unnamed peak nearby, (again two climbed that one twice) plus a further peak 'Grass Nob', NOT very grassy!)

The weather was superb on day 1 and 4, with fantastic views all round (we could clearly see Taranaki — Mt Egmont — over on the far North Island) and reasonably good the middle days. There are plenty of mountains in this part of the world, so further METHS meets here are guaranteed. Muesli

A smaller group than in previous years assembled at the Honest Lawyer pub in Nelson. After a huge breakfast we drove for a couple of hours around the edge of the Mt Richmond Forest Park to enter from the Blenheim side through an area of active logging.

Previously, Mad Mike had told us that owing to logging, special permission for our access had to be obtained and as a result he assured us that we would be the only party in the hut. No one doubted his authoritative command of the situation or his predictive capabilities. Four hours later after a delightful walk through beech forest and up a long ridge and ascent of 700m, we noticed some bags hanging from trees. The curious amongst the party examined the contents and discovered dissected body parts — who was responsible? Where were they? Half an hour later we arrived at the Mt Richmond Forest saddle hut and in the porch were more of these bags. We tentatively pushed open the door and were confronted by two Rambo look-alikes polishing their telescopic rifles. Had we stumbled upon two psychopaths in New Zealand bush, and were we the next victims? The paranoia was palpable, until Cheeky Jean confronted the rugged young men with the question 'Are you responsible for the venison in the bags hanging on trees?' They explained that they were employed by the Department of Conservation to shoot goat and other game. We settled into the eight-person hut, wondering what would have happened if there had been a couple more Methsophiles to accommodate. The next morning (Friday) dawned cloudy, the hunters left after five days on the mountain and we had the hut to ourselves at last — so we thought.

By 10.00 we eventually emerged from the hut at 1,200m for a full party ascent of Mt Richmond (1,700m). At the top we had magnificent views of each other and the white fluffy stuff surrounding us. At 2pm, after debate, we split into three groups. Mad Mike and Bwana Nilo to conquer Mt Fell, Cheeky Jean to go half way to Mt Fell and Muesli and Mrs Bwana Nilo to continue their conversation and amble slowly back down to the hut. The three women succeeded in their objectives. While the two men disappeared into the cloud, halfway to Mt Fell they decided that the view down into the extensive country behind Nelson and out to Tasman Bay was adequate and promptly conquered an innocuous looking cairn and named it Mt Interupptus as the second peak of the trip. Returning through the cloud they climbed back up to Mt Richmond, and then heavy in conversation, got lost in the cloud, doomed until they retraced steps to the last steel pole and 120° to the left in the murky distance, discerned where they should have been and in silence got back on route. A great day with all the party on top of Mt Richmond. Back at the hut we spread ourselves out and Mad Mike warmed up on his unique limericks. This abruptly ceased in mid-limerick when two young ladies entered the hut. Muesli did a wonderful job warming the hut, organising the wood stove and retrieving tin cans from the ashes (that previous folk had hoped to incinerate). It was cold during the night, so cold that it was not until 11.00 on the Saturday morning that the Mini-Meths party emerged with the objective of surmounting the third peak with the innocuous name of Grassy Knob. We ambled up through forest following or sometimes creating a weak path and eventually emerged onto montane grassland and good views. The weather started getting cloudier and colder and we stopped at a convenient point on the ridge for lunch. Caution and perhaps lethargy ruled as we decided to head back to the hut. Back at the hut it was becoming very cosy. Four matronly women were now in residence and the Mini-Meths party played cards. Mad Mike, as an act of penance for a day of non-achievement decided to do a solo reclimb of Mt Richmond as the sun re-emerged in the late afternoon. He was strangely silent, (perhaps?) forced into this quiet state by the new visitors and a counter-limerick from Mrs Bwana Nilo: (Nessy who poemed the Fenella Hut trip two years ago.)

There once was a climber called Mike
Whose limericks nobody liked
As each bodily function
Described without unction *
Caused his audience only to gripe
About how completely, corruptly perverse
And lewd, rude and crude was his verse
Full of belches and farts
And dead horny tarts —
(and they unfortunately often got worse)!

* For your information (or for those who are not going to look the word up, but who want to know what it means): the Concise Oxford Dictionary’s definition of unction: 'soothing or flattering words or thought or circumstance; fervent or sympathetic quality in words or tone caused by or causing deep religious or other emotion)!

As we were preparing to settle down to sleep for the night at 9pm the hut door opened and a minimalist, light weight, self-professed hard tramper named Colin announced his arrival and kept us awake for two hours with incessant rustling and noisy catering arrangements. No mattress could be found for him as the hut was now brimful with bodies. His minimalism caught him out (no packed tent or bedroll) but he gratefully accepted the offering of an inflatable bedroll from one of the matrons, whilst telling everyone how he gives talks to people about how to pack for the mountains!

On the Sunday morning we were resigned to a gentle walk back down to the cars when Mad Mike and Bwana Nilo eventually noticed that the weather outside was magnificent and on the spur of the moment they decided that Grassy Knob beckoned. They retraced yesterday’s steps and were soon on Grassy Knob summit, already graced by the presence of the four matronly women who were very grateful for someone to take photos for them. Magnificent all-round views across to Mt Richmond, Mt Fell, Tasman Bay, Clifford Bay, Inland Kaikouras, Mt Arnaud area and Kahurangi National Park. Meanwhile Muesli, Cheeky and Mrs Bwana Nilo sat on a rock outside the hut and warmed themselves in the sunny fresh air with conversation and chocolate.

After lunch at the hut we enjoyed a pleasant return down the ridge and saw plenty of the local bird life — bellbirds, tomtits, South Island robin, and fantails.

We returned to the luxury of the Honest Lawyer Pub, via stopping off to view the progress on Mike and Verena’s new mansion outside Nelson, which has potential! We plunged into our respective hot baths, restored the body with a good feed and a comfortable sleep. Our appreciation to Mike and Verena for planning the trip — a new area for Mini-Meths and indicative of the wide variety of tramping opportunities in NZ. Next year we hope to have some overseas visitors on our meet. Neil & Sue Stiles

Click here for a report of last year's meet.