Thread: Feral Dad repeatedly inflicts cruel punishment on son.

I know a couple of cops knock about the forum and likely there’s a social worker or two as well, please don’t consider this report as evidence or a referral.

Avalanche Peak
While my teenage son will accompany his old man on the occasional outdoor adventure, he can readily list a host of other things he’d do in preference. At his age, of course, eating is one of his favourite pastimes – it’s damn hard to full him up! On the way to our tramps we traditionally call into a bakery for a pie and he views this as the highlight of the whole adventure! So sadly after the last crumbs of golden pastry and mince are hoovered up his weekend is on a downward trajectory. No videogames, no mates, no computer nor even any Wi-Fi, for gods’ sake.

Photo Theo and poster.Attachment 111455

Theo is the lad’s name –a similar pronunciation as ‘whio’ the Maori term for the blue duck. We tease him about his being ‘our white water duck’ – it doesn’t seem at all funny when you write it down, but it is an effective mechanism by which we are able to torment him and so is much valued by his loving family.

Sooner or later Theo is going to go on his own way and likely this won’t include a huge helping of the outdoors. But I have a real drive to spend time in the wilderness and I want to give him a taste of that experience. I figure if you expose even reluctant kids to adventure then you are at least giving them some novel experiences that they wouldn’t otherwise have and maybe, just maybe you are sowing the seed so they might later take it up themselves.

So since a young age Theo has been on many tramps [here, Aussie and even in Canada], and the occasional fishing trip -generally fruitless. He’s been hunting, slightly more productive than the fishing, and even a multi-day family canoe camping trip. This weekend I wanted to add bagging a peak to his outdoor resume. At 15 he is now noticeably increasing in strength and stamina so I was keen to take him on a stiff climb with the associated rewards of a real sense of achievement and impressive views.

We finally reached Arthurs Pass Village, parked the car and set out with our overnight packs. From the village the plan was to climb Avalanche Peak [steep but with a good track and an established route] and then drop down to the next valley [the Crow] overnight at the hut then walk out via the valleys to the highway.
We had plenty of breaks on our ascent, not due to a whining kid, but rather a puffy, sweat streaming Dad struggling to control his heaving lungs. A trick for such occasions is to ensure you have a camera on hand this gives you a great excuse to stop.

Photo GrasshopperAttachment 111456

“Hang on Theo...cough, puff, puff, heave…I’m just gonna take a few snaps… puff, puff, gasp, …Lets not rush the walk too much Theo…puff, puff, splutter... let’s take our time to soak in the view and check out the wildlife… puff, puff… gosh look at that view, I might take a couple more photos puff, puff wheeze”

Photo Theo and viewAttachment 111457

Photo Theo and view to the valley

Photo Me and TheoAttachment 111458

We stopped at the top for lunch, enjoying an extensive view of mountain range after mountain range. We could pick out the location of several of our previous outings. As we ate a diminutive Rock Wren hoped and fluttered around the boulders seeking a feed as well. They have a peculiar habit of bobbing and lunging almost as though they had deliberately added an exercise routine to their daily chores.

Photo On the ridgeAttachment 111459


After lunch our journey included a steep crumbly rock out crop with a dodgy down climb that raised the sense of exposure significantly. Once off the rock I saw the obstacle had an easy path around it that avoided the whole horrible mess altogether. Oh well, no harm injecting a bit more adventure into the trip.

The descent into the Crow is via an extensive scree slope. This was Theo’s first time on moving rock so I gave him a bit of an outline what to do. How you pick a line that avoids rocks being kicked down on to your mate and how to jog down the more forgiving sections. Scree travel is a bit like trying to surf on a sea of broken rock with some patches allowing for thrilling speed, then as soon as your confidence rises the ‘going’ inevitably changes to larger ankle twisting rocks. Of course you hit this at speed after the buzz of a good run often resulting in a wipe out. But unlike surfing you don’t go splash into the brine but rather splat onto the greywacke. We both had our moments out on the shingle, while we got to the bottom without the drawing of blood or the breaking of limbs, Theo was hobbling a bit after painfully twisting his knee at one point.

Photo Theo descending behind a bit of a bow wave of shale.Attachment 111460


Photo Theo at a distance below, on the screeAttachment 111461



After gaining the valley bottom we followed the riverbed to enter the bushline. Before long we stumbled out on to the hut clearing. But there were no comfy bunks for us that night, already there were more than 30 hikers vying for the 10 bunks and a small canvas [well nylon actually] township had sprouted on the clearing. Shunning the crowds we kept going to find a flat camping site a down towards the river. Here we put up the tarp and rolled out our bivi bags. Theo retreated into his headphones, we’d had a pretty big day so I’d reckoned he’d earned it. Dad was content just watching the clouds roll about the tops and the change of light as dusk approached. Slow TV on a very wide screen. Bed immediately followed a filling feed of couscous salami and salad.

Photo HutAttachment 111462

Next morning over breakfast Theo chatted about previous trips especially our two exotic overseas ones. We missed the novelty of having Aussie roo’s grazing around camp or Canadian elk bugling nearby. We had the local substitute of a bold kea that was taking a little too much interest in our food and gear, I think we’d both agreed we’d rather we had to defend camp from a parrot than a bear!


Theo with his injured knee was taking care with his foot placement, but after the exertions of yesterday’s climb our amble down the Crow was pretty relaxing. A k or two from camp and I spotted a Whio on a boulder alongside the tumbling stream. I’ve come across a few over the years but this was Theo’s first encounter with his namesake. By the way he rolled his eyes I could tell he got a buzz from the sighting too.

Photo Whio
Photo Whio

We made pretty good time down the valley and then out onto the Waimak. At the highway I left Theo to gorge himself on our left over food as I trekked into the village to get the car. Theo’s big effort over the last two days was rewarded by a second visit to the Sheffield Pie Shop on our way home. So on the basis of this the tramp has been classified as an all-time favourite of my son’s.

you big meaner you..... keep it up.