The trip up was the trip up - takeaways in Levin etc. Nobody got lost, we didn't get separated, and we didn't crash. Quite dull, really. Arrival at the accomodation was pretty cool, though - Kim did us proud, organising for us a 1970s style bach of perfect retro style, music included.
Saturday morning, and for some inexplicable reason Bolke woke at 7.30am. Not content to endure this misery alone, he got up and made cups of tea, which he brought to everyone else (except for Alison who doesn't drink tea). Bolke seemed to be taking this catering business a bit more seriously than necessary. Anyway, this forced everyone to wake up, Bolke no doubt counting on the fact that it's difficult to abuse someone who's just been nice to you. Nick tried, of course.
Peering out of the window proved that we were just a tad on the crazy side. Our boats were covered in ice, along with the cars and the rest of the world. Skiing looked a much better option. The breakfast menu was announced. Pancakes with blueberries and maple syrup, which everyone scarfed down except for Nick. He wanted Hubbards cereal, probably so that he could read the profound words of wisdom contained inside. Tea and coffee was consumed (except by Alison, who doesn't drink coffee). A lot of effort went into preparing tasty drinks for the river - hot chocolate with Baileys. Just the perfect thing when you're cold and tired. (I'm not sure that this would meet with the requirements of our new safety policy. Ed.)
Leaving the bach when an icy river calls is hard. This of course meant we didn't leave until much later than planned. We went to pick up Ray, who was staying down the road at Clare's whanau's bach. He didn't seem that impressed with our late arrival (10.30ish), especially since he'd been up since 7.30, the time we said we'd be there. Silly boy - he should know VUCC by now! Anyway, he'd had plenty of time to prepare himself a thermos of coffee for the river. (What was that in the safety policy about punctuality? Ed)
And then we drove to the river and nothing happened on the way. We had a squiz at the Whakapapanui. It looked cold. There was ice on the puddles and the bank which we had to slid down to approach the river was a tad icy as well. We continued to the Mangonui A Te Ao, our choice of venue for the day. Getting on the river revealed the true extent of our madness - instant freezing of any appendages that got immersed. Bolke went the whole hog - full wetsuit/drytop, including bathing cap and tasteful yellow rubber dishwashing gloves. But Kim aced everyone; a drysuit that took fifteen minutes to get on and twenty to get off (it was pretty funny watching), but, according to her, was just the ticket.
The river was cool, in all senses of the word. Starting off with a couple of gentle shingle bed grovels, no-one except for Nick (who was the only one who knew the river) was prepared for the first real rapid - a steepish bouldery chute crashing into the left bank. Nick was very coy about it - why didn't he want to tell us about it before we went down? So he could laugh at the horror on our faces when we got to the bottom, the bastard (this became something of an annoying habit - Nick would lead off down a rapid, around a corner and straight into a gnarly boulder garden, then laugh like a drain at our discomfort). This first rapid was a bit of a wake up call but most subsequent rapids failed to have the "Oh, shit" value that this one did. There were some interesting moments, however. Alison parted company with her boat at an undercut bluff - a fairly tricky location in which to roll at the best of times. She did the usual Alison "hang on until the last possible moment" thing but even she was eventually defeated. After a quick swim to shore, we administered hot drinks to a, by now, very cold Alison (who doesn't drink tea or coffee). Half way through her second cup of Ray's coffee she commented "I hate tea!" To which Ray replied, "It's not tea, it's coffee!!" "I don't care, it's still horrible!" was her considered response. It had the desired effect, however - she bravely (or stupidly) jumped back into her boat to continue paddling.
After a while Bolke decided that he'd had enough of being laughed at by Nick and would do some laughing himself - so he decided to lead a rapid. He didn't get much of a laugh though - Nick made sure of that. Bolke quickly scouted, saw a tree in the river on the left and led the way down the rapid away from it. Nick followed choosing a slightly different route i.e. almost straight into the tree. The others followed Nick only to be confronted with a paddle-waving-Bolke at the point where they'd just committed themselves to following Nick and so began paddling frantically in the direction Bolke was pointing. No incidents occurred though. And Nick had the last laugh, of course.
Stu perfected a new rolling technique. What you do is flip in a rapid, then wait until you smack into a rock with your shoulder and get bashed upright again. It must have worked well - he tried it twice! Andréa too developed a new style of paddling - slow flat spins as you descend a rapid so that you not only see where you're going, but where you've been. Her reason for developing this technique was that, as a zoologist, she could thus keep her eye on the blue ducks in the rapids. Kim decided to test her drysuit by getting out of her boat too. She bobbed like a cork and stayed toasty warm and dry - ideal for Kims.
We reached a get-out. Nick and Kim had a Kim-and-Nick kind of argument over whether this was in fact the right get out. However, they got out of their boats and raced off up the hill without telling the rest of us that there was some uncertainty. At this point Bolke stupidly decided to skite about the fact that he has not flipped. One does not do this until one is safely out of reach of the river. Ray decided (naturally) to help him out of his non-flipped state. Bolke and Ray were boys in the middle of the river, the usual ripping off of spray decks and tipping people was the order of the day. Bolke failed to fend off Ray's attack and got wet. Eventually once they had succeeded in getting each other throughly soaked in the freezing water they got out and joined the rest of us trudging up the hill. Kim and Nick returned from their jaunt up the hill. Kim was right (of course!), this was not our get out. There would have been plenty of time for Bolke to get himself wet without any friendly assistance. Alison decided that she was cold and would rather walk to the cars; we gave her some dry polys, instructions on the route and headed off again with a slightly wetter Ray and Bolke.
The next stop was the real get out. We got out to find that much of the frost was still around. Consequently, the next stop was Tokaanu to defrost and regain some feeling in our fingertips. Lots of lovely hot water, hmmmmm! We could have stayed there for hours if it weren't for a chronic case of the munchies.
So it was back to the Chateau Motuoapa. In keeping with the lovely ambience of the bach, we went for a 70s theme - cheese fondue, complete with tasteful orange fondue pot, music courtesy of Val Doonican and Donovan, and free love. Well, not free love, Nick had made sure of that by ensuring Kim's lasting enmity during the day by repeatedly doing his best to annoy her (and his best is pretty good). Dessert was apple crumble with ice-cream or custard, followed by cheese and port, then cognac and cigars. Well, the bit about the crumble is true.
Next morning was equally, if not more, icy. Without tea delivery by Bolke everyone woke up late, and after the usual VUCCing around it was after ten when we finally left. The plan for the day was to paddle the Rangitikei, from River Lodge down to Utiku. However with the obligatory caffeine stop in Taihape and various other hassles (Bolke insisting that Nick re-tie the boats on his car) we didn't arrive there until 1.30. A quick calculation showed that if we left immediately and paddled like bastards we still didn't have time to complete a 13 kilometre section before dark, and, not fancying spending a night sitting on a river bank, we contented ourselves with having a leisurely lunch, and throwing some rocks into the river. Nick tried to chat up an English tourist at the lodge, but she seemed strangely impervious to his charms. After finally realising (half an hour after everyone else) that he didn't stand a chance, we jumped back into the cars and headed back to Wellington.
Bolke