by Anne Ashby
Today both Rick and Jodie scooted up and down past the group, telling jokes and stories in an attempt to keep everyone’s spirits up.
By the time they stopped for lunch—finding what shelter they could under the trees alongside the National Park track—Shal felt they’d been up and down enough gorges and hills to last him a lifetime. He was ready to swear he’d never go tramping again.
It hadn’t been too bad until that last swamp, affectionately known as Murphy’s Bog, Rick humorously had told them. Obviously there was a story to tell, but no one had had the energy to ask who Murphy was or to give a damn what might have happened to him.
The gruelling fight to keep their feet from sinking further into that quagmire had sapped the team’s spirits. Shal’s legs ached from the strain, and he guessed the others were feeling as drained and disheartened as he was.
“How’s that blister, Tony?” Jodie asked.
“Okay.” You didn’t need a lie detector to know Tony’s foot was killing him inside his wet, mud-encrusted boot.
“Murphy’s Bog made even more of an impression than we expected.” Shal was too tired to try and analyse Rick’s comment.
He watched the siblings share a weary smile when they glanced over their flock. His eyes travelled around his staff, too, wondering what Jodie and Rick were thinking.
The constant rainfall wasn’t heavy enough to wash the clinging mud from their boots. Jodie insisted they wipe away as much as possible. There was little conversation during their break.
Jodie returned from what Shal had assumed was a comfort stop. “I’ve just talked to my father. This rain is settling in, and could cause us a problem.”
She repeated the latest message her father had from the Met Service. “The rivers are going to be up, and pretty quickly a lot of those little streams on your maps will turn into torrents. The Waimangarara and Wharekiri Rivers are between the hut and us. Both have crossings and they should be okay. We’ll be paying close attention to some of the streams—the Limestone and the Henderson are both prone to flash flooding. We’ll also face possible slips, so if you see anything of concern, yell immediately.”
Clenching his teeth, Shal watched Jodie, trying to read what might be going on inside her head. I have to be ready to step up and take control when she collapses—though so far she shows no apparent signs of uncertainty or panic.
Shal scrubbed a hand around the soaking collar of his shirt. In fact, she appeared calm and relaxed. But that couldn’t last. If something else happened, she’d likely go to pieces. He had to be ready.
It was an even more sombre group that stumbled to their feet, ready to trudge on through the predominantly red beech forest. Jodie pointed out native trees to help them forget the rain dripping off their heads and down their necks. She bemoaned the fact that the variety of native birds she knew made their home in this reserve were not in evidence today.
The Waimangarara River drew gasps of dismay from the group when they arrived at its banks. The “crossing” Jodie had referred to wasn’t a bridge, but merely three cables slung across the narrow river. One of Doug’s high rope set-ups was an exact replica of this crossing. This should have been easier though, being only a few feet above the water, not metres up in the air as his had been. However, the dirty water plunging through the rocky riverbed already showed signs of dramatically increasing.
Rick dropped his pack and disappeared up the side of the river before running back. He nodded to Jodie.
“Let’s go.” Hearing the urgency in Jodie’s voice, Shal stepped forward. It was time to show her he didn’t need leadership training. Rick fashioned a rope around Shal’s waist and signed for him to begin. Shal paused as the same rope was attached to Jodie. Rick pushed him toward the bridge.
Icy fear squeezed Shal’s stomach muscles tight as he climbed onto the wire and began edging along it. He was past the middle of the river before he felt the wire under his feet take extra tension and knew Jodie had joined him.
He wasn’t sure if it was the muddy water surging beneath his feet, or his own fear that caused the roaring in his ears. He forced himself to keep moving, inching along the cable, his eyes trained into the distance, afraid to look down.
His fingers fastened around the wire strops, the rain and his own sweat made them slip too easily along. The cheers from behind him penetrated and he looked down. His fear vanished and confidence spiralled through him. I’ve done it. And no one seemed aware of my mind freezing with terror.
He stepped onto the ground very carefully, pretending concern he might tug Jodie off balance—when it was his shaking legs that caused him to grip the huge supporting poles.
“Phew,” he murmured as he steadied Jodie’s jump to the ground, confident he could display a little tenseness without giving himself away. “I can’t believe that’s only about ten metres across there.”
She looked up from untying the rope, a smile of approval broadening her lips. “Not much different from crossing Niagara Falls on a tightrope, I bet.”
Shal’s mind flew into overload as the terrifying image blinded him. He shook his head to dislodge the fear. Blinking furiously, he saw her looking at him strangely. “You’re not wrong,” he breathed, before she could ask awkward questions.
Forcing his gaze down to his fingers, he began untying the knotted rope around his stomach lest he drown in her concerned green eyes, like some callow schoolboy.
“Thanks for coming across so quick.”
Shal shrugged, heat rising in his face, as he remembered his motivation.
“What happens now?” He hoped his voice sounded more even to her than it did to him.
“We’ll bring one over at a time.”
Shal acknowledged that the exercises at the Mathiesons’ base camp had given the group confidence. Rick followed at the tail end of the tethered group.
“That was great, guys.” Jodie enthused as they all smiled through the rain, proud of their achievement. “That’s probably the scariest thing you’ll have to do on this tramp. Everything else is just plain hard slog.”
Shal watched her eyes sparkle as she praised them. She has the most amazing eyes.
“If it was a nice sunny day, we’d stop here for a while so you could bask in your own glory, but we have to keep moving,” Jodie said.
On they struggled. There was little talk. Eyes were firmly downward, no one looked around anymore. Instead they were watching where to place every step.
The steady rain changed to a heavy downpour about an hour after they had crossed the Waimangarara.
Shal sensed the tension building in their guides. He kept an eye on them, watching their gaze continually darting around, checking the hills above them as they slogged along the sodden, muddy track.
Jodie had teamed everyone up, male to female. Small streams were filling with water and they began crossing these linked together after quick instruction. Jodie joked they were getting in practice for later, but Shal knew it was no joke. They were between the waterways she’d talked about.
Going back was probably a more dangerous option than going forward now. Probably...Shal realised he had no idea.
****
During one of the five-minute breaks being allowed—where they didn’t even bother taking off their packs—Shal approached Jodie. “Are you okay?”
Her eyes widened at the concern in his voice. Not used to people worrying about her, she looked up at him, tongue-tied. She tried to instruct her voice to say something—something that would not make her look like some stupid teenager.
She felt a lurch of excitement course through her before she clamped down on the ridiculous thoughts. It would be too easy to get lost in those dark eyes. She nodded.
His contact was gentle as he touched her hand, but heat burnt all the way up her arm. “I’ve been watching you today.” As he glanced around his expression seemed dumbfounded. “I wanted to tell you that we have total confidence in you. Your decisions will be the right ones”—he turned sheepish—
“without any input from me.”
Jodie’s mouth dropped open.
“I owe you an apology. I admit I have no idea what we should be doing.” His words staggered her. She’d had him pegged as a total control freak.
He continued, “I pride myself on being surrounded with experts to sort out problems. I accept you are the expert here. We’ll follow whatever course you see fit to dictate.”
He smiled crookedly, the expression softening his features. “I never intended to appear an arrogant oaf.”
Amazed at his apparent change of attitude, Jodie tried to hide her surprise and ignore her rapid increasing heartbeat. She accepted his reparation gracefully with a nod of her head.
“We can’t go back, can we?”
She shook her head.
“And you don’t know what’s in front of us?”
“I can guess,” she muttered. “If we can get across the Wharekiri we’ll make it to the hut okay. But there are a lot of creek beds between the river and us. If any of them are too high, we’ll be camping out until they go down.” She looked through the driving rain. “I’ve never seen rain like this at this time of the year. I’m worried the effect it’s having up in the ranges. Dad’s report said it’d been pouring since the early hours.”
“At the rivers’ source?”
Jodie nodded, already resigned to spending additional days on this tramp. As yet she didn’t know where they might be spending those days—at MacLaren Hut or somewhere on the side of a mountain.
****
Shal felt an irrational stirring of pride as the group slipped, slopped and slogged on. Their complaints the previous day had been in jest. Today there had been hardly an untold word.
Doubts about his father’s sanity at arranging this week disappeared as Shal recognised the calibre of the people chosen to accompany him. Right then, grabbing Georgia’s arm as her feet slid across the mud, he determined to re-evaluate their positions within the company.
Having arrived at this decision, Shal’s mind roved back to Jodie. His eyes took their fill as she slid down the track, virtually on her bottom. “Everyone okay?” He’d been watching her all afternoon, waiting for cracks to show.
His earlier decision to acknowledge her leadership was half designed to help bolster what he was sure would be flagging spirits, but she continued displaying total confidence and no thought for herself.
She must be as exhausted as we are, he pondered, then shook his head. No, he conceded, much more so. No one else was covering the ground twice. Rick had even stopped doing so. Shal had seen him disappear off into the distance a couple of times, and knew he was checking the track ahead.
In the course of less than twenty-four hours, Shal found his opinion of this slip of a girl changing drastically. Although not yet ready to admit she might be able to withstand the pressures of leadership under hazardous circumstances, he could see she was nothing like Deirdre Patterson.
He thrust visions from his mind. Comparing Jodie with that bitch wasn’t fair. He already knew Jodie didn’t belong in the same category.
“At least it’s not cold.” Georgia’s mutter as she slipped on a rock forced Shal’s attention back to the present.
Jodie called to her, “If it helps to keep your feet going, keep in mind there’s a shower at MacLaren.”
Shal joined the weak laughter. Who’d have thought a simple shower could evoke such delight? Unless it was being shared with a green-eyed beauty. Shal’s mind took off as he allowed himself to savour his fantasy.
****
Jodie had a horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach when Rick took longer than expected on his latest recce to check the track leading to the Wharekiri suspension bridge. He hadn’t answered her call on the FRS radio and her concern for his safety was mounting.
Despite the effort the group was putting into this last, long, steep climb, their progress was slow. They were tiring, but she couldn’t allow more rest stops. Calling words of encouragement, she toiled up the track, grasping overhanging branches to steady her feet on the slippery slope. Seeing her brother’s figure against the skyline in the distance calmed her fear.
As he acknowledged her wave, he turned away, and Jodie’s heart sank. His pack was no longer on his back. He wouldn’t have taken it off—not when they were in such a hurry. This could mean only one thing. She swore under her breath. They weren’t crossing the river.
Without realizing it, Jodie picked up the pace and forged ahead, forgetting her responsibilities in her haste to find out what had happened.
Tony’s loud swearing somewhere behind her, halted her climb. She looked back at the straggling group as they hauled themselves up the steep incline, virtually on their hands and knees.
Jodie’s regard grew as she witnessed the determination under their wet misery. Waiting by a particularly slippery part of the track, Jodie held out a hand to steady each climber as they passed.
“Take a quick breather if you need to.” She could be generous with time now. “But it’s only a couple of hundred metres, guys, then we’ll be onto the ridge,” she encouraged. She kept to herself that they’d be taking an extended break.
From behind the trampers Jodie flicked her fingers, trying to encourage the blood to circulate again. Shal had not grasped her hand tightly as he’d slipped. Looking down, she wondered why she couldn’t see the imprint of his touch, she could still feel it.
Too often Jodie’s eyes strayed to the tall figure ahead. That’s because he’s finally acting like a team member, she justified. Any other reason was ridiculous.
No one rested until they’d struggled over the crest, yanking and shoving each other until they were all on the bluff at the side of the river gorge. Turning against the driving rain and holding each other upright they caught their breaths.
Jodie didn’t have the heart to delude those excitedly talking behind her.
“I told you we’d do it, didn’t I?” Kelly boasted. “She told us this was the worst part of the whole tramp and we’ve made it. Even if the rain sucks, we did it, guys; we did it.”
Jodie glanced round and was surprised to see Shal giving Kelly a hug. He’d appeared so standoffish with his staff before this. She’d wondered if he’d previously felt superior, but there was no sign of that now. He was joining in the high-fiving and congratulatory back-slapping as enthusiastically as the others, despite their exhaustion.
“I’m never going tramping again,” she heard Jenny muttering. There was a burst of laughter as others agreed, while Kelly strongly voiced an opposing view.
Jodie trudged on, smiling at the excited reaction to their achievement despite the terrible conditions. They’ve really attacked this terrible day and deserve some moments of self-congratulation. Her parents had been right. They’re a good bunch—for townies.
A bigger test of their fortitude was still to come.
Chapter Five
Rick’s pack was resting against a small lean-to alongside a long drop toilet the Department of Conservation had built here a couple of years ago.
The small, flat clearing beside the riverbank was halfway between two National Park huts, so had become a common lunching point for tramping groups. On a clear day the views from here all the way across to the Tasman Sea were amazing.
As Jodie dumped her pack next to Rick’s she noticed two picnic tables had been added since she’d last walked this track. She joined Rick overlooking the bridge site.
Neither the rain, nor the mist rising from the raging water, could hide the damage. The suspension bridge lay dangling against the opposite bank. The branches of a huge tree stuck amongst its wires, while the trunk provided the impetus for yet another waterfall.
Jodie swallowed hard. With a deep breath, she turned a miserable face to Rick.
He shrugged. “Bugger.”
Rick’s droll imitation of a recent television commercial was exactly what Jodie needed. She chuckled as she patted his arm in thanks. Their roles as guides must subtly change to ens
ure the group didn’t panic. The best way to inspire confidence was to show a complete lack of apprehension themselves.
“Would you like the bad news, or the really bad news first?” She injected a teasing note into her voice as the group lined the bank. Their high-spirited talking now became a deadly silence. She caught Shal’s eye and prayed for his support.
“I hope this isn’t what your parents had in mind when we were practicing those river crossings.” A devilish glint twinkled in his grey eyes as one lid lowered into a wink. He stepped back, his movement drawing everyone away from the bluff’s edge.
Jodie forced a smile as she looked at the dismayed faces.
Georgia’s voice was a little pipped. “I guess we’re not having that hot shower, after all?”
“That was the bad news,” Jodie kept her voice light.
“Couldn’t we go either up or down river and find somewhere to cross?” Michael asked.
“That’s what we’ll do, but not today. With all this rain, the river is still rising. At least here we’re out of harm’s way. There’s even a long-drop toilet and a little shelter under that lean-to.”
Jodie watched their eyes fly to the little corrugated tin construction—a basic wall with a roof, only the size of a bus shelter. “We’ll rig up a couple of bivouacs with whatever branches and vegetation we can find before it gets dark and Bob’s your uncle.” She studied their long faces. “It’s not going to be great fun with this rain. But we’re safe and no one’s hurt—apart from Tony’s foot,” she teased, throwing a smile at Tony. “We have plenty of food and we’re in touch with the outside world.”
If I maintain an air of calm and self-confidence, surely that will rub off. Well, at least it may still any real fears they might have.
“My brothers and I used to often go bush. We had some great times. Just think of the stories you’ll be able to embellish when you get back to the city.”
As she strode toward her pack, she added over her shoulder, “When we get everything sorted out, Rick and I will tell you about some of our bush adventures.”
