Picture this. A frosty winter morning, sun shining down, a group of eager students silhouetted against a blue sky and snowy mountains…
Well, that was the level 2 outdoor pursuits classes in weeks 8 and 9 of term two. Except, maybe without the sun and blue sky for Mr Percival’s class. Grey clouds blocked their view on all sides day one. Rain poured down around them as they hid behind raincoat hoods and neon orange pack covers. However, despite the dreary weather their moods were anything but. By singing songs and cheering each other on, this group of enthusiastic students found their own fun to get the most out of their trip, even surprising their teacher with a home baked cupcake in his favourite colours as the day was his birthday!
Woolshed Creek Hut, located on Mt Somers, became the home for three different classes over the course of these two weeks. Each trip came with its own highlights, challenges, and inside jokes!
This trip challenged the students to orient themselves based on their surroundings and a map, to stick together with the group through the piercing winds, and to build a shelter that hopefully wouldn’t end up with pools of water running through it. The students had to cook their own meals and follow the Leave No Trace principles.
For some students, their favourite part of the trip was getting back to the vans and on the road back to school, other students took their time to enjoy the fresh air and birdsong. Regardless, every student tried to get something out of the trip, even if it was simply a new appreciation for their clean, warm, indoor toilet waiting at home. Even the old school bathrooms are luxury compared to a long drop!
Now, what you have all been unknowingly waiting for readers, the ultimate show of literary genius inspired by the mountains! This poem was written while walking by none other than I, Emma Miller, one of the co-writers of this incredibly interesting article. Now, without further ado, behold!
Woolshed Creek Hut
Splash, squelch, slurp
Went out boots as we climbed
“How far till the top?”
Our fatigued feet whined
With grey to our left
And grey to our right
The patupaiarehe
Stole our eyesight
And oh how our calves burned
For the chocolate we’d earned
On the track to the Woolshed Creek Hut
