WITH TENT AND BILLY IN JUNE.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 18786, 15 June 1929, Page 19 (Supplement)

WITH TENT AND BILLY IN JUNE.

Camping on Mount Grey Under Snow.

GLORIOUS VIEW FROM SUMMIT.

(Written for the “Star” by Elsie L. Thompson.)

THE popular trip to Mount Grey is that through Coburn to the camping site on file banks of the Grey River. This is a pretty picnicking spot. ,but the best headquarters for those who wish to climb, as well as camp, lie far to the northeast. This’ desirable campingground, on the very skirts of Mount Grey, is reached through Batcairn. Brackenfield and Broomfield, and is about an hour and a half's run from Christchurch.

Camping-out in New Zealand is, in the main, reserved for summer-time, or, at the latest, the Easter holidays, but those who will risk the lent and billy life in June discover that, in the absence of rain, winter is -scarcely less enticing and has a peculiar charm to offer the camper, a charm which must be missed bv the city-bound; This we have just learned. Saturday of the King's Birthday week-end found us, a party of four, in the shadow of Mount Grey, considering the best place to pitch our tent, andcongratulating ourselves the while ijyon reaching such an ideal spot from wvi'x h to staFt the ascent. A'sheltered position was easily found, close to a clear stream. No dwelling-place was within sight, save a deserted musterer's hut. We unloaded the car and prepared to meet the oncoming frostmantled night, and by the time campbeds were made and the well-smoked biliy was boiling for tea, the sun had slipped behind the mountain and the air was "nippy". A merry meal and a hearty one, a story or two read round the blazing manuka fire, and then bed, •t the untownlike hour of six o’clock. Save for the stars above, night’s gloom feigned unchallenged, and. but for a xnopoke’s eerie call, silence held all. After a good night’s rest we awoke to find the canvas walls about us lit with a warm glow and through the eastern* side of our tent, which was open, we looked across miles of low

hills and downs to a wonderful winter dawn. Above the furthest ridge of misty purple, colours radiated and blended from a bright mandarin tone at the horizon to where the softest ■vellow merged in a pale blue skv. The undulating landscape that lay between was soft and rosy, and somewhere a tui sang. We watched till the brilliant globe of the sun peeped over the' hill-top then, as it swiftly strode higher, the colours faded, and we rose to rekindle the fire. Frost glittered on tussock and bracken, our water-tin was ice-coated and our tea-cloths stiff, but n by the time our simple tasks were performed and we were on pur way to the Mountain, very little fj-ost remained even in the shade, the air was still and warm, and the sky blue, so that we scarcely could realise that winter’s middle month was here. The track at first wound round the ,

mountain at an easy grade. , W e saw the prints of deer across the path, and much rooting by wild pigs was seen on every turn. We soon reached Lake Janet, a diminutive mountain lake, ice-covered and framed with flax bushes, and black birches. ' We had 3000 feet of steep climbing between us and the summit. The shadowed ridges were scantily veined with snow, and on one of these we halted to make a snow man, by way of change and rest. After a warm climb tfith the sun streaming down upon us in truly summer fashion, we gained the summit, anu there a rare view was our reward. The Kaikouras, snow-gowned tn d sunlit, towered above the lower ridges to the north; like a relief map lay the miles eastward between us and the sea; the coast-line was visible for miles and miles, curving along past the

glinting Waimakariri Estuary, round Banks Peninsula, and then away south as far as the eye could discern. Westward was hill-land indeed, range after range, wooded and snow-powdered, rising between us and the Southern Alps with their majestic succession of untrodden peaks. We accomplished the descent in a very short time by joining hands and jumping' and sliding till we regained the track near the lake. Back at the camp, in the late afternoon, with the sun gone over the mountain once more, we lit the fire and prepared the vegetables for a hot tea. Night had closed around us once more before we sat down, but, with the firelight and an acetylene bicycle lamp, what more could we want —we were quite sure no meal had ever tasted so good. Another long night in bed, disturbed only by the visit of an opossum which, about midnight, essayed to open our bread-tin, hopped round the still-glow-ing fire, then, hearing our whispering, bounded off into the shadows.

King’s Birthday dawned and we were loth to leave this life with its sense of freedom and peace, but winter had given us of her best, and we returned to -Christchurch fully content with the results of our venture.