Waikaia – Switzers 4x4 High Country Jamboree
12-14 February 2005 by Carmen Kechavarz-Curth

Getting there:
Leaving 2 days before the event, Harald, my cousin Ulla from Germany (first time off-roader, not counting the walk in the park aka Jeep Jamboree), and myself headed down the old State Highways from Nelson to Geraldine where we met up with Stephanie and Victor, also from the Nelson 4WD-Club, and from there on it was a drive more worthy of off-roaders. Under Steph and Vic's guidance we went to Lake Tekapo, where no petrol was to be had thanks to a major power cut. That could not deter us. Off we went onto Lillybank road and then up the Godley valley. Nice spot, but we cut short and did not go all the way up to the glacier, but turned round and went up the Macauley to the hut, where we spent the night (snorers inside, victims outside). This hut can only be recommended.

The next morning we were greeted by a light drizzle, made our way back through the riverbed and back to Lake Tekapo on the last drop of petrol. Fortunately, power had been restored. Having filled up we went back to Burke's Pass and down the Rollesby Valley Road, direction of Albury, but ended up on Coal Pit Road, which was not where we meant to go, so back to the Bullock Wagon Trail, past the Mackenzie Memorial on to the Hakataramea Pass Road which lead us to Hakataramea (fancy that) and from there onwards to Kurow on the road to Oamaru. But, of course, we turned off onto Dansey's Pass road towards Naseby, then onwards past Alexandra on the highway for a spell and in Ettrick turned off towards Moa Flat, Dunrobin and Park Hill onto Switzers Road and Waikaia. On the way, our petrol gauge amused us with another little light show.

In Waikaia we received a warm welcome, heaps of information, a light supper and the promise of an “open” sign at the petrol station the next morning. It is always like that, you carry a jerrycan, you don't need it, you don't carry one...well, ask Murphy. Sherilyn and Andrew hearing of our plight, came to the rescue with a 20 l reserve canister the next morning and so we were all set for

Day 1 (or the choice between farm-track-green or clay-bank-tan liquid sugar soap)

The weather was a bit uncertain, that reduced the options, but there still was a choice where to go on a wet day. We opted for the Sullivan's/Dome and Flaxy Huts trip because on the other trip a full set of chains was required and we had only 2. Also, there was no winching required. When Harald winches, I whinge. Chains had to be carried on our trip too, though, and as a matter of fact were being used by quite a few, but we did not need them.

The views were somewhat limited, with us driving in the clouds, but maybe it was just as well that one didn't see how steep a few banks were. Fun was had by all on a few rutted clay tracks. There was a bit of towing uphill and downhill too. The Rangie from Amberley left a Hansel and Gretel track of bits and pieces which filled a half page in the Sheriff's little book. Everything present and not accounted for ended up in their boot. It also earned them a cap. Nice work.

The odd vehicle with low ground clearance, enhanced by banana profile tyres, tried to do a bulldozing job down a steep and slippery clay track. But they were not up to scratch...no, not true, they actually scratched off a lot, mainly underneath the chassis.

At one stage, Ulla got a fright and swallowed her chewing gum. This offense was duly fined.

Ending the day at 5pm or whenever (it was closer to whenever than to 5) at the schoolhouse gate next to the main road, we sped off in search of petrol. Harald was in such a hurry that we missed the turn at the bridge. He got fined for it you bet. I got fined too for having said something to the effect that Haralds' Cherokee matched my hair. Actually, it was even worse.. I had said that the colour of the Cherokee clashed with my hair and that Harald would have to paint the truck! Very nice Sheriff session. And a nice meal put together by the local playgroup, who also designed cute placemats. No tales of woe were heard from the other group, so all must have been well. But they had a bit of winching to do.

After a few discussions concerning the next day's trips and following a good night's sleep, with snorers strategically placed, we were all set to go on

Day 2 (or the day when Harald lost it and we got exempt from gate duty so Richard could keep an eye on him)

Fine weather greeted us on Sunday morning. After a bit of hesitating and comparing and all, the teams were finally all set up and we headed off to the Cattle Flats. Stephanie and Victor chose the Titans for a bit more action while we chose scenic for our visitor.

Our trip started with tracks through rolling hills, a small detour by our leader Richard to show us a nice farmhouse, hmm, and soon enough there were a few steep descents, and I mean steep. But, of course, to descend, we first had to climb. The views were magic on this fine day. You could see forever. What with only 6 vehicles in our group, gate duty reached new heights, Marie seemed to have a few more than others, but not even the goat's head on a certain gate could faze her. Gate wardens were royally rewarded by our faithful tail-end Charlie who owns the Minties factory. At lunch time, Peter's passenger (sorry, I never got his name) treated us to homegrown tomatoes, delicious.

After a bit of a look at the Mataura (?) river, we decided it was safe to cross, which we did – some with a splash! We then took a little detour to a flying fox in a small meadow in the forest where Richard's sons had a go.

Up we went again, and then down. At some stage, Harald explained to Ulla that this was a safe track, with a bank on one side, in case something should happen. It did, and we went up the very bank. We had completely lost the right front brake. We were in low gear, in first, and still had to brake...and there was nothing! That is not very funny! But help was near, Richard, the trip leader, just so happened to be a mechanic also. Witth help and advice from everybody, the brake line was clamped off, a bit of break fluid was added, and on we limped on 3 brakes. From that point onward, we were exempt from gate duty, so that Richard could keep an eye on us. I was so happy that we finally had come all the way downhill, only to learn that we were going right up again. Not that going up was a problem, not even on a nasty bit of shingle, where tail-end Charlie had to be pulled. But you have to come down again... Well, eventually all was well, or so we thought. Being back on a “straight forward from here on” road, Harald shifted to plain old 4WD, and sure enough here came another steepy, and thankfully also another bank. This is when Ulla, who, after some earlier gate duty, got told off for not having watched where the others had gone on some farmtrack, pointed to the right and announced: ”The others went that way!”

We reached Cattle Flats and had a good look at the baches while the sandflies had a good look at us.

We reached Waikaia at 5pm or whenever again, topped up the petrol, returned the jerrycan to Andrew with our thanks. We had not needed it – because we had it!

That evening the Waikaia promotions ladies had prepared tea for us. A fine meal again also with placemats of their own design. Nice touch.

This evening Victor had a tale to tell. At some stage on a grass climb, he did not get all the way to the top, locked up and started sliding backwards for what seemed like an eternity (he had been filmed!). He drove backwards through the middle of a small gully and finally stopped when the ground levelled out. He apparently got out, kicked the chains, got back in and drove up the climb to the top this time. That's the spirit! This scary bit earned him the cap for the day as well it should.

Our valiant Sheriff, Helen, and her Deputy, Glen, had another good night which should have pleased Waikaia Promotions and the Southern Trailblazers who had organized the Jamboree, this time as a fundraiser for the museum.

So, we brakeless lot had to pull out. We are sure that we missed out on a good trip on Moday. The two days we had done had been perfect. Peter leading on day 1 and Glen tailending, and Richard leading on day 2 and Mr. Mintie tailending. Thanks to all. Thanks also to the “Dutchman” who on day 1 had such a lot of amazing information and knowledge about the hills and the flora. Thanks also to our provider of tomatoes, who knew a lot about the life and work of the people up in the hills, and thanks to Betty and Lennox for their hospitality, the petrol station and the store for their special before/after-hours service, to Judi from the trail blazers who greeted us with the biggest smile when we first arrived and to our petrol helpers Sherilyn and Andrew. Thanks also to the Sheriff who gave us a few good laughs. We did have a great time, and we will be back! And, last but not least our thanks to Stephanie and Victor who first asked us to come on the trip.

And I ask forgiveness for all names spelled wrong, forgotten or never asked.

And that brings us to the day we thought we would be going home

Early next morning we made our cautious way to Invercargill to get the brake repaired. We went straight to Trevor Boyle who had been recommended (being the Chrysler Jeep representative for the area). As it turned out, we shouldn't even have bothered. What an arrogant lot! No need to go into the details, but maybe someone should tell them that Jeeps do go offroad and are not being built for soccer mums only nor for people who can plan their brake failures to suit the workshops busy schedule.

Anyway, we did get immediate help at “the little workshop” across the road. Peter Forde and his team went to it straight away (because they recognized an emergency for what it was and not because they had nothing else to do!). Peter even took us to a motel nearby and assisted us in every way. Parts were ordered, came by overnight courier and early the next morning the Jeep was repaired. And that was the day we went home

We left Invercargill around 11 am and it was a looong day. Staying on state highways only, crawling through Christchurch's rush hour, thankfully reaching the Murchison Mobil station seconds before they were closing, changing a blown tyre at Quinney's Bush in the middle of the night, reaching home and falling into bed. Ask any 4-wheel-driver – it is all part of the fun.

By the way, of the dozen or so vehicles (mostly trucks) that passed our Jeep which was blinking with emergency lights while we changed the tyre, only one stopped and the lady asked us did we need help, could she call somebody, were we sure we were ok? Does that tell you something?