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Humping?? - What Humping?!?

Lisa Whitehouse

Harpo's Holdsworth Humping trip certainly had rather less humping and rather more drinking and merrymaking than anyone expected (except perhaps Phil). Let it not be forgotten however that not everyone got carried away. For example, John and Christine were paragons of virtue, showing their humanitarianism by visiting the hunters in Totara Lodge for several hours that night, apparently. I as you will remember, did not get carried away , with drinking.

The weather was fabulous for the two days. It was my second only Tararua trip (yes, really), and I still haven't had any of the infamous Tararua rain. The trip up was not without incident however, a we got into a rumble with the Featherston late-night, fish and chip shop loitering heavies. Iain McGlinchy, "Yeh, I think one of them hit my shoulder, but I'm not sure really." Accusations of questionable sexuality flew, after John B asked in his inimitable style, "Are you sexually repressed? The wrath of the local lads was egged on by Margaret (that wicked woman) and Kate bursting into hysterics as soon as they opened their mouths. Plus the tights might have had something to do with it. We retreated into the pub to have a drink with their fathers. From there it was a crawl through all the happening spots in the Wairarapa metropoli, especially Carterton and Greytown. Donna was an example to us all, choosing not to visit the last pub. The fact that she had been waiting for us in the Featherston pub had nothing to do with this.

The keen bods sprinted up the Mountain that night, to freak themselves out on ice. The rest, (most of us) got up the next day.

The bad taste theme certainly happened - notably Terry and Donna (ugh!),and Donald Holborow, though Don didn't intend it at first. A truly spiritual soul, Donald led us in uninhibited bottle worship and was willing to consumate this relationship with total immersion in water whilst in the nude. Don't laugh Nigel - we know what happened to you. At one point everyone considered going to find someone to hump, but it didn't seem worth the effort. The party continued late into the cool Tararua night.

The next morning, though gloriously fine, was altogether too bright (only for some of us Lisa).Harpo got up at the crack of dawn (10.30) for a disprin cocktail, looking decidedly crumpled (having crawled into pit some time the night before, and deciding to come back when the fly had stopped going round and round).

Surprisingly though, no-one was much the worse for wear, and we all set off at a cracking pace, bright and early - at about 1 pm that afternoon. To all you dyed-in-the-wool (pardon that one) traditional trampers who are a bit dubious about these great V.U.W.T.C. social events, dismissing them as "not tramping", let down your wool and loosen up for next year!!!