This article was first published in the Tararua Tramper Volume 96, no 7, August 2024
Waerenga weekend
8-9 June 2024
‘How do you cook a roast without an oven?’ I asked my brother. ‘Just google RNZ seven-hour lamb.’ Paul dug out his old heavy-duty pack and loaded up the cast-iron Dutch oven.
Three of us marched into Waerenga early. As Mark got the fire going, Paul browned the leg of lamb, and I layered sprigs of rosemary, a bunch of bay leaves, onions, celery and carrots in the pot. A cup each of stock and wine, and soon it was all simmering atop the wood stove.
One of those still, clear winter days. What a gift to have a day like this in the valley, with nothing much to do. Between endless cups of tea, we dragged tree skeletons up from the riverbed and sawed and chopped.
What about the pampas grass? On a previous trip Lana had started scything their feathery heads, but there was so much more. The pampas flowers flared magnificently in the wood burner – our pyromaniacs were in their happy place.
Soon J-P’s cheery face appeared at the window, and the teapot had a refresh. Mark and I wandered over Brown’s Stream to enjoy the last of the sun and keep an eye out for the rest of our crew.
And here they came trip-tropping across the troll bridge and trying to navigate the Ōrongorongo with dry feet (unsuccessfully).
The rest of our feast was disgorged from packs, nibble platters assembled and candles lit. The pot continued to simmer as we caught up on each other’s news and got to know new friends.
‘Leonore, did you really run out of food on your SK?’
‘Could you get the fire going at Renata, Mark?’
‘J-P, who cadged a ride with you up to WOMAD?’
‘What was the scree like on Waiau Pass?’
Franz’s ears perked up when he heard about the pampas. Always on the lookout for something worthy to do is our Franz.
The lamb fell off the bone and was served in its flavoursome juices, along with potato and kumara mash, buttered leeks and steamed broccoli. Volunteers jumped up to attack the dishes while we gave our tummies a break. And then … Jane produced her sticky date pudding with butterscotch sauce, whipped cream and poached pears.
We were stonkered. The Chief Guide snored gently in the corner. Jane, flat out on her mattress, kept chirping ‘Games! Games!’ She wasn’t to be cheated out of the promised after-dinner cards and dice.
Mark, master of games, dug out his dice and taught us Zilch, a high-stakes gambling game. Colin produced some fancy hot chocolate. Hilarity ensued but this frivolity wasn’t to Franz’s taste and out he went with his head torch to attack the pampas.
In the morning, Franz was nowhere to be found. We set about preparing breakfast. As bacon smells wafted out the window he appeared looking disheartened. The pampas was so extensive up Browns Stream that even he had decided it was too big a job to tackle.
Melanie provided breakfast entertainment by regaling us with stories of the TTC old-timers she’d interviewed for her thesis.
Homeward we headed, via Browns Track, Cattle Ridge and Butcher Track, escaping just before the rain set in.
- Party members
- Sarah White (Leader and scribe), Mark Edwards, Colin Hoare, Leonore Hoke, Franz Hubmann, Melanie Martin, Jane-Pyar Mautner, Paul McCredie, Jane Nicholson.