Leader | Mentor | Understudy | Tail Ender | |
Standards | Jan Br | Selwyn | Graham W | Jen C |
Alternates | Peter M | Ali | Ali | Judy S |
Distance 14.25km Ascent 640m Duration 5hrs
When the 36 of us, including third-time visitor Glenn, made it off the bus for our much anticipated Glenafric tramp, the dry conditions made it obvious why there had been concerns about the fire risk.
Glenafric is a 770 hectare mixed farm in Waipara, run by James and Maria Hoban and family. It is not to be confused with Glen Affric, the 4,000 hectare luxury estate in the Scottish Highlands and owned by Pippa Middleton’s in-laws. There are similarities; our local Glenafric has a little B&B cottage. You can stay at the Scottish Glen Affric too, however the accommodation there costs several thousands of pounds a night.
It was impressive to see how far we had climbed by the time we got to our morning tea stop; we could see a plane buzzing way below us, just over the sea. The choice of where to sit was summed up by one as “prickle or poo?”.
Crossing the Dovetail Stream many times wasn’t a problem as the water level was extremely low. We were fascinated by the sandstone and limestone features we passed.
The 23 Standards enjoyed a spectacular lunch spot on a cliff top overlooking the sea. We were just settling in, enjoying the fabulous warm sunshine, when we were rudely interrupted by the Alternates who wanted this prime spot all to themselves.
So off again, walking along narrow sheep tracks through tall dry grass, heading down to the rocky beach below. Part of the attraction of the beach is finding an interesting fossil or an unusual stone, however our beach experience was limited to a few metres, as the tide was too high.
As we were forging along in the direction of the Glenafric homestead we were hailed from a hill above us by the Alternates. They had an incident with a farm gate which had decided to have a bit of fun with their group, and it needed a hand (24 hands in fact) to get back to its rightful position of vertical.
Striding through the undergrowth and the occasional boggy patch, thoughts of the Glenafric/Glen Affric connection resurfaced. Admittedly, you don’t get a stunning sea view from the highland Glen Affric, but it is very close to Loch Ness. The wildlife we saw could easily have been found in Scotland: cattle, sheep, bees in their hives, a falcon, some geese, and purportedly, even a stag. Other than a little matagouri and a few cabbage trees, the vegetation of grass and pine trees might have been found in that other Glen Affric, with thistles a plenty (good thing no one was wearing a kilt!).
Both groups made it up that last terrible hill back to the high terrace where our driver Stuart was waiting with the bus. So how many gates had we encountered, opened and dutifully closed? Maybe 12? How many fences, with electric or barbed wire at the top had we gingerly climbed over or through? Also about 12? And how many hills had we climbed … let’s not even go there. It had been such a glorious autumn day that no complaints were to be heard.
Text by Shirls