Southern Alps Traverse in Poetry

Late spring of 2013
four young men all so keen
headed out on a month long quest
traversing the alps separating east from west.

Following the footsteps of many before
we started off with a hiss and a roar
but, alas, on the very first eve
the keas came down, ready to thieve.

When we awoke, early next morn
a sock was missing, and a tent was torn
but though we'd been savaged by the feathered critters
we stomped over Whitehorn without any jitters.

The forecast said the weather was pokie
to we changed the plan and went over hoki
into Mungo, Poet and Frew
where four of us slept in space built for two.

Into the mighty Whitcombe we went
and soon discovered what others had meant
when they said that the going was rough
but we could hack it, we were tough

On the seventh day we rested, at Price Flat
played some poker, 500, black jack
Bruce flew in and delivered us some food
which put us in, a really good state of mind.

The weather turned foul, we waited at Neave
for a day or so, then decided to leave
for Whitcombe pass, and the bracken snowfield
but, only if the weather would yield.

The winds were light, but vis was bleak
so we headed up to Lauper Peak
then down to Reischek, where a bloke called Jim
and his mate Malcolm walked on in.
The rain abated, so off to Lyell
then it rained some more, and snowed a while
while waiting for Bruce to come along
Andy's arse trumpet, played us a song.

The weather was clear, Bruce came through
Alastair's birthday, the big 22.
Over the moraine, avalanches were crashing
camped at McCoy, the tent was thrashing.

Through the gardens, the pace was fast
for we knew, that the sun wouldn't last
over the great unknown, to Elizabeth creek
we had finally bagged our very first peak.

Down to the Perth, via Redfield stream
the terrain was rugged, rough and mean
we arrived at scone, 7 hours had gone by
we'd covered only two k's as the crow would fly.

But all was good, we had Tui and Speights
kindly supplied by hunter Chris and his mates
on to Nolan's, the rain was pouring
creeks, streams, and river levels soaring

The Hughes was too high, what a kerfuffle
but with a bush bash, abseil, and log shuffle
we were over! And raced off to the Harihari pub
and to Wildside Backpackers for a rest and a scrub.

The final leg, off to Mt Cook
we legged it out of Harihari without a second look
but sadly without Justin we were now only three
he tried to change his flights but it wasn't to be.

To Butler Junction and a look at Ice Lake
without heavy packs it was a piece of cake
the track to Whymper was absolute shite
but oh what a place to spend the night.

Or two as it turned out, weather leaving us in the lurch
then finally over Whataroa and into the Murch
over to Tassie we were nearly there
forecasts were confusing, said rain but was clear

Up early to Hocci in time for the sun
then back down for ice climbing – what fun!
finally down the tassie, and camped at ball
our trip all but over, a sad time for all.

| December 20th, 2013 | Posted in Storytime |

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