This is the first of two reports. The other is further down this page

It’s funny how I was landed with this trip report for my indiscretion on the Sunday. I thought surely someone could have done something deserving on the Saturday for it…. Yumi and I met up with Pete and Helen at Couplands in Richmond, after Helen had a birthday party to attend and Yumi had to work the morning at the market so that I can retire early. Well I won’t be retiring this week anyway. We shot up to Wakefield and filled a couple of sacks with firewood from Graeme’s trailer which both ended up in my truck. The trip up to Murchison was pretty uneventful, and we were soon on the gravel heading up the valley towards the Glenroy. We both took turns leading and swapped at the gates each time. The river was pretty normal, but it still has a decent flow and the odd large boulder in the middle makes it interesting. The odd bang on the diff is nothing to a cruiser though. We floated down stream slightly at the deepest crossing.
We arrived up at camp about 5:30pm, the fire was going and Bevan had a pig spinning merrily on the spit. The three B’s - Bob, Bevan and Bill had been working hard. There was the fire, with the pig, the apple in the mouth, a shelter built out of corrugated iron and a 12v motor hooked off the battery of the Range Rover turning the contraption.

Those that had made their way up on the morning had also had a game of two halves of Aussie rules out on the paddock where I’m told the best team won on the day. I also understand that the Sherriff was not in the winning team.

The wind was fierce and it was quite cold. We struggled to pitch the tent but managed to use the truck to make enough shelter to keep it on the ground while we pegged it out. We then opened our refreshments and sat down for a session. A few boomerangs appeared from Don. They were quality models made from traditional looking aboriginal MDF. A few lads went out onto the river flats and threw them around. I had a look in the dictionary and I found this definition:

boo·mer·ang   (bōō'mə-rāng')  n.

A flat, curved, usually wooden missile configured so that when hurled it returns to the thrower.

However these boomerangs were tuned in such a way that no matter which way they were thrown they made a beeline back to camp and straight into Lurch’s Hilux. Mike Murphy almost wore a boomerang more than once as a result. Others also snapped upon impact with the ground.

The pig was ready about 8pm and we all combined our salads on the table and queued up for the feast. There was silence as we all tucked in but soon a guitar appeared and more than one person was eager to take the lead. Brent read the songbook by the light of the fire and then joined right in.

Somewhere around this time Hillbilly turned up in his vehicle which I’m told once resembled a Range Rover. He had driven up on his own and had apparently had water over the tailgate at least once. When he started pulling out all his wet clothes from the back we believed him.

So the session carried on well into the night, the wind dropped away, making it almost bearable and once the pig was devoured the shelter was dismantled and we formed a circle around the fire. The guitar playing and singing carried on long into the night. Hillbilly serenaded us all before heading off to his lodging, only to return a couple of minutes later after simply stumbling right around the seated group. Someone then led him in the actual direction of the hut! (Graeme and Hillbilly had the hut to themselves that night, I’m sure if Hillbilly had not been drinking he would have reconsidered sleeping with “the chainsaw” also.)

We all rose pretty early on Sunday morning, it was very still and quite cold. There were a few sore looking people, but nothing that a couple of cups of coffee couldn’t fix. Once the sunshine hit the campsite we all started moving a bit more freely. About 9am around half the group headed up the valley to follow the track to the end.

It was uneventful until I managed to lose a wheel in a bog hole. Yes it just fell off. And yes my Alloys are now on Trade Me. So we jacked up the truck and popped the spare on. I forgot that I had about 20 spare nuts with me that Mag and Turbo had given me just before the Reefton Challenge earlier in the year, so I borrowed some from a member of the group. We carried on up the end of the valley where the rest of the group had stopped for morning tea. Lurch found Yumi a deer antler that went into the back of the truck and will soon be holding coats in our new house.

Back to camp for a bit of a tidy up and we all packed up. We headed off down the valley in about three groups. It was a nice drive on a beautiful Sunday afternoon, nothing too tricky. Halfway down, Lurch spotted a pool of diff oil on the ground and a call was made on the radio to locate the offending vehicle. Pete was unfortunately now the unlucky owner of a broken rear diff. The Pajero’s housing had split wide open. However he carried onto the farm entrance as it was not too much further to go. The truck was parked up and Pete was on the phone to locate a trailer. Higgy offered to pick one up and return to Murchison that evening with Pete.

We were back moving again on the gravel road to Murchison when another call came over the radio. Jackson had lost a “rear wheel”. ”The spare wheel?” came the question, “No, the left rear wheel, brake drum and all” was the answer. Perhaps it was the cold last night after driving up in the heat of the day? The Nelson 3wd club quickly convened and replaced the wheel after securing the brake lines but unfortunately the brake drum was lost, presumably 50m down the bank to the left. I returned my borrowed wheel nut to the owner, as he now needed it...

Finally we made it to Murchison, and had a bit of late lunch. Then off towards home, some made a stop at the Belgrove pub, but I had to return my truck to storage so unfortunately couldn’t attend the debriefing.

Thanks to Bob, Bevan and Bill for organising the trip and the feed.

Nigel Barker.

Photos here - New page will open