SNOWY SLOPES

Auckland Star, Volume LXX, Issue 201, 26 August 1939, Page 3

SNOWY SLOPES

SNOW in the south, snow covering Mount Egmont, snow at the Chateau. 1 was so cold that 1 was only surprised that it was not lying in heavy folds on my counterpane. I here was even snow on the Auckland volcanoes. "Win ri'U'ln I it t ill when I was awake to "ci' i' n-ked George, pensively ,Idiri-i the heavens. "And I've always longed to see it. It tmik a mean advantage of the darkness," | cuntinni'il pathetically. "Snow is such a manic wind. Immediately I see pictuns n I \i«'tie expeditions nnd the I,rent. White Smith, of red robins „ ii< I holly trees and Christmas a la I )irkens ..." '■ Y'iii re a bit out of season," "Anil ski ing." I continued unperturbed. "I lie most glorious of all sports. ( I list imagine t lie thrill of tearing down t huso wonderful glistening slopes. I get lill excited It the very thought of it." "L*inll l'! snid George. Hiivvcwr, next morning I noticed him paring mrl ' 11 most exhilarating photograph of joyous ski-cry actually gliding livvny from the v.crv steps of Chateau Tongariro itself, and T knew that the first brick had been laid. Exactly a week later ho remarked casually that it. wouldn't be a lwid idea to go up for some ski ing . . . good season for that sort of thing. As I ; had already borrowed a most elegant ski-inr* suit nnd some terrifying boots, the plan tank mo completely by surprise. I let (ienrge take all the credit, for his brilliant idea, which delighted him. I let him make all the arrangements, as a loving wife should. I just »aw to all the really important things, and packed all the essentials ho had forgotten, as a dutiful wife does. Eventually at some dread hour wo arrived. Next morning atoned for such little discomforts. I gazed out upon snow. Not only was the world a strangely beautiful etching of black and white, but snow was actually falling. Like the cotton wool used for Christmas decorations, it was fluttering down as though for my benefit. We began with that most rudimentary form of all alpine sport—snowballing. Xow George has a stern official demeanour, guaranteed to make the most hardened typist wobble at the knees, but in this free mountain air he visibly linbent. After he had put snow down the neck of everyone in sight and valiantly resisted the temptation to join same infants who were making a primitive snowman, he burned for fresh worlds to conquer.

By -- Audrey Argall

"We'd better start on the skis next. J»'»nit want to waste any time."' Hut we doii't know how.'' "It's rpiite easy, anyone can do it," he answered with that air of mastery mat one so admires in a man. I have mounted a restive horse, but that was child's play compared to the vagaries of our skis. It took three people apiece to hold us in place. "Just let yourself go. it s all a matter of balance," urged solicitous friends. "Ready," "Not yet," said I, and sat down onc-c more.

".hist a moment," yelled George, but the infernal machines had already started. They picked him up somewhere down in the golf links and we started all over a^iin.

At last, already somewhat battered nnd entirely at the mercy of those strips or self-willed and obstinate wood, we proceeded cautiously up the long, lontrail to Scoria Flat. The skis in variably chose their own route, but by usin" great tact we persuaded them to stick more or less to the road.

Stopping frequently to admire the beauty of the fairy-like snow-covered trees, I noticed that even George became increasingly eloquent over the beauties of Mature. On surmounting each steep slope he waxed almost poetic.

The way was not without adventure. "Grand sport," grunted jnv. partner and disappeared head first over a bank. 1 was unable to help, being engaged in a private wrestling match with a jviir of unusually active skis, but a party of .Superior Persons rescued him and muttered something about messing the- tracks up. I pon another occasion the bewitched pieces of wood proceeded untenanted, while their erstwhile owner, in whom I was fast losing such confidence as ] had once possessed, raced them in sitting posture to the bottom of the slope. lie was wearing a borrowed pair, too.

Many hours later, more or less intact*, we readied the ski-ing grounds. 1 felt more tired than if I had done a week's spring-cleaning- but this was different. This was Sport!

It had already occurred to us that such sport was not as easy as it appeared. Graceful experts skimmed merrily past, but our first experience was of riding a galloping horse without any bridle, or steering a rudderless boat; only water would not hurt as much as the icy slopes and rocks of Kuapehu. I suffered from an inability to maintain an upright position, while George seemed incapable of making tip his mind about which direction to 'take. While his right leg yearned to go onward and upward, his left became suddenly obsessed with a desire for home and safety. Thus, torn with internal dissension, his progress was erratic. "Th.it poor man has been trying to climb that small incline for ten minutes," I heard one interested spectator remark.

An icy wind mocked us, and the snow was hard and unfriendly. We decided that ski-ing was an over-rated sport. That was early. Later, when we had actually skied down the nursery slope at the back of the hut without one fall we became more enthusiastic. Soon we learnt all there was to be learnt about funk falls and their attendant "sitzmarks." We even learned to vary these. It is more agreeable to have twenty bruises, than to have twenty times one' bruise, as George remarked feelingly while he tenderly lowered himself into the softest chair in the lounge that evening. After dreaming of perilous slopes, I awoke to find George having some sort of altercation with his pillow. "Thought I'd fallen head first in a snowdrift," he muttered. The day was dazzling. Nothing could have appeared more exquisitely beautiful. yet we were not satisfied. The day before had been cold, and we had beeii appreciative of our Arctic gear. ''We're just going up for some ski-ing."' floorjuin his best alpine manner had informed the shop assistant in Auckland. That amiable young man had been most impressed. "Ah, then you'll require our warmest things," he had remarked with solicitude, while he sold us coats, mufflers, windproof jackets, mitts and helmets, in which we were now embedded. The sun shone, the long trek appeared even longer than before, and we were most surprised to find that snow can be one of tiie warmest things imaginable. As the glare smote us we removed first windproof jackets, then scarf, balaclava, thick sweater. . . . Unfortunately not all was so accessible. As we continued to roast alive we no longer admired the beauties of snow scene and mountain. Our thoughts were more prosaic—of the oranges, tinned pineapple and tea that awaited us at the hut.

Once more we laboriously slaved up and down the interminable slopes. A Chinaman has described the sport, "Climb up two miles, two hours. Back two minutes! Zip . . . ! Fortunately those two minutes are worth all the effort. Again we returned after a hard day, tired, aching and hungry, vet pleasantly conscious of a sense of coming victory. Falls were not inevitable. The occasions on whfch thos3 bewildering instruments of torture obeyed our behests grew more frequent. Now and again we had glimpsed ecstasv. Rnapehu, bathed in a rosy glow, lay behind us. Ngauruhoe, delicately flushed, appeared through the trees down the track. Fleet figures skimmed past us with ease and confidence, but we were well content. The day was coming when we too would be able to stop, turn and appear vastly superior about telemarks. One day the ungraceful beginner would regard us with envious awe. e went to ski to see the snow." sang George blissfully in his bath "'Round the Ski Club hut—round the Ski Club hut!" Even that day dawned. By the second week we darted like swallow*, turned and twisted. The wind whistled past our cheeks, the snow sang to the sound of our skis, and we were as srods. A frightful day dawned—the last. ! Into it we crammed a thousand aetivi- : ties, attempting yet longer and swifter runs, and then bade good-bye to Rnapehu, cold and remote in the moonlight. Anyway, it was time we went. They were playing tennis on the courts the » day we left —the court that had been a snowfield the day we arrived. More- . over, carefully jacked were trophies—s ladies' novice, first , prize; gentleman's > slalom (novice), first prize. Life was good!