Angela Corrigan took this photograph of fellow trampers in the Tararuas, where her story is set.
What\'s you story?
Contributed by Angela Corrigan.
While doing a weekend walk in the Tararuas, our group of six were spending the night on Totara Flats. It was a very cold, windy night and we were all squashed under the tent-fly, with tree roots and rocks as an uncomfortable mattress.
During the night I woke and realised that the cord of the tent-fly had come adrift. I was in the middle of the group, but after lying there for a while, pondering the dilemma, I decided that as a Girl Guide leader, I had better stir myself to do my good turn and re-attach the rope.
I clambered over the other sleeping members of the group. Half asleep, and with vision impaired without my contact lenses, I grabbed hold of the nearest tree trunk and began to pull myself up. I was puzzled to find that the trunk felt quite warm, and had a fuzzy texture. But I did not let this deter me from the task in hand. Finally I was upright, and there I was, staring into the smiling face of a white-bearded member of the group. The tree trunk was his long johns!
At this point I left him to finish the job and crawled back to my sleeping bag. In the morning, nothing was said of my little adventure.
Te whakamahi i tēnei tūemi
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