This article was first published in the Tararua Tramper Volume 96, no 5, June 2024
Boar Bush Gully tea party
Saturday 4 May 2024
Joan felt the gorse scratches ‘tween gaiters and shorts were unbecoming. ‘Can’t DOC do some maintenance on my favourite track?’ ‘Not a DOC track’ replied Gerald curtly.
‘We could organise a mighty TTC work party’ suggested Joan. ‘Good idea’ chimed in Gerald, ‘I know a South Wairarapa sheep farmer who likes nothing more than a day out cutting scrub’.
‘As long as there is more time spent drinking tea than cutting gorse’ stipulated the farmer. ‘And Gerald picks me up in his EV as I’ve gone all-in carbon neutral in my dotage’. ‘We don’t need more than six workers on the day either’. ‘That’s good because we’ve got some made-up trap lines to bait that day’ said the very relieved Joan and Gerald.
Of course Franz could be depended on but what about the Chief Guide? He was keeping a very low profile as the email traffic whistled overhead.
The much-awaited day dawned clear and still as Franz and the Chief Guide (it’s all about optics) travelled in an appropriately carbon neutral manner over the hill. But their smugness quickly evaporated as the farmer arrived at the rendezvous on a bicycle. ‘You’re not going to chain that up to a tree are you? Haven’t you heard about the um, er, reputation of Featherston?’ queried the Chief Guide. ‘I hear that property prices are going up here’ quipped the ever-diplomatic Franz.
And so they left for Boar Bush Gully (you can’t say that name often enough), leaving behind an impressively expensive bicycle secured by the flimsiest of chains. They’re very trusting in the valley, thought the Chief Guide.
Boar Bush Gully was once the catchment for the water supply of Featherston. The old reservoir still remains and a difficult and dangerous abseil across the dam outlet is necessary to reach the track to Finis. The farmer pulled out the Roger Coventry memorial rope but was disappointed to find a belay already in place. Unperturbed, he tentatively lowered himself down the slippery concrete slope. ‘Reminds me of getting off the Olivine Ice Plateau in a snow storm’ he cackled. Suffice to say, no rescue helicopter was necessary.
Safely across, the group began their climb up the hill towards Finis, expecting at any moment, to be accosted by head high gorse. It never happened. Instead they worked hard to topiary any of the odd patches of gorse. The farmer lagging behind surreptitiously chugged on a hydration bladder of lukewarm tea.
Finally at 9.59 a.m. the farmer called a halt. ‘Time for a brew-up and you can put those poncy thermos flasks away too’. With that he produced a flamethrower from his pack. Otherwise known as the MSR Dragonfly, it is the big brother of the Whisperlite. If you thought the Whisperlite was a touch on the loud side, get out the earplugs, because the Dragonfly is the Jumbo jet engine of stoves.
While the others moved back a safe distance, the farmer set about spraying white spirits over himself and the stove. ‘Keep your wits about you boys, in case I set fire (he did) to the undergrowth’ he chuckled. But with the finesse of a Japanese tea ceremony, tea bags were dropped into the boiling water, milk powder added from a marmite jar and the whole thing finished with the flourish of a titanium spork. Franz and the Chief Guide were mightily impressed. You don’t get that service on a club trip.
Eventually they went back to work but as the farmer reminded them, ‘only for long enough to earn another brew-up’
Soon it was lunchtime with an even more elaborate tea ceremony, complete with a highly choreographed ‘knock over the billyful of water’ showstopper. Luckily the Chief Guide had foreseen this moment of slapstick from the farmer and carried extra water bottles.
After an extended lunch break any advertising executive would have been proud of, the farmer announced our work was done. ‘After all, we want to have an excuse to come back here on an equally fine day and drink more tea’ he smirked, jogging off down the hill.
Back in Featherston, much to the amazement of the Chief Guide, the gleaming bicycle laden with fancy accessories was still leaning against the tree. ‘Must be all those authors and book lovers who’ve moved in and gentrified the town’ mused the Chief Guide. So Wednesday trampers, if you’re looking for the best day out (according to Joan) there is a track in Boar Bush Gully just itching (and scratching) to be used.
- Party members
- Franz Hubmann (TTC), Paul McCredie (TTC, scribe) John Rhodes (SWTC), Chris Crowe (SWTC)