mistakes i've made

@Craigo - wondering if you could take a look at my advice seeking thread - seems you've done Dusky and with ultralight gear - your advice would be very appreciated :) Cross posting my story from here: Once was walking in the countryside in the UK, during high summer. The map directed us through a narrow alleyway - which was full of stinging nettles. We were wearing shorts. Well we managed to squeeze through after much cursing and futile use of a raincoat to shield the legs. Then later on in the day, a thunderstorm arrived, deluging us - lightning striking barely a kilometre away. We continued swiftly to the forest (my brand new, waterproof, leather boots long since filled to the brim with water), and there we met a monstrous patch of stinging nettles. This was upsetting to say the least. Most crucially - the path was nowhere to be seen. So in the pouring rain, futilely trying to stomp down a waist-high patch of stinging nettles, meandering in the middle to try and find the path, with a crying girlfriend - then and there I learned some important life lessons. Once was going for a walk up Mt Karioi. I'd left home by about 20 minutes when I realized I'd forgotten to put my boots on, and was wearing only my casual shoes. I decided the path couldn't be that bad, and 20 minutes away was 45 minutes of wasted time - time better spent taking it easy. So off I went. Well the first bit of the track was muddy, so I slipped a few times. It was just the approach, so I figured it couldn't be too bad. Well then the second bit of the track was also muddy. And then the third bit was muddy. And then soon I realized everything was muddy and slippery. I managed to finally make it to the top, a few slips for my trouble. But it was on the descent where things really got hairy. I was crossing a muddy pool, and during the step, my shoe slipped - throwing me forward. A broken tree branch (the very base) was conveniently placed to stab my neck - so it did. As I came to a stop, an awful feeling of dread washed over me as I held my hand cupped over the now bleeding wound. I waited for my neck to bleed out. But it never came. It was just a superficial wound, and I made it down (yet more slips later). Unrelated to the main story, I had a date planned that night for straight afterward, so went to the date with a barky scab slash on my neck - was a good conversation piece.

Another one: Was in the Lake district this winter, having travelled with a guy who'd be my climbing partner. I wanted to climb/scramble, and so did he. So on the Saturday, we parked in a convenient location in the pass. We then went up Green Gable, and down a gully, then over some scree to begin a VDiff rock route called Needle's ridge (where the famous Nape's Needle stands). We realized we had forgotten the topo for the climb, I asked paul "if we go off route it's not like we'd end up on an E1 or anything?" - no he said, which seemed to sway him that we could do the route. We carried on, scrambling up a chimney with massive winter packs on (I had an 80L Aarn pack with balance pockets... decidedly unbalancey when trying to rock climb). After that, we realized we should've pitched that bit. So we set up a belay. The next bit I thought we should take the arete - paul thought to traverse left. As Paul was far more experienced, we traversed. Eventually my turn to climb, and I had to traverse a piece that was covered in ice and snow, hand jamming, with the damn balance pockets stopping me from being anywhere near the holds (in places I physically could not reach the holds because the pockets were in the way). I took them off at the end of the pitch. We continued up the ridge. Eventually night began to fall. We decided it would be safest to do the walkoff from the summit, so continued. I dropped my belay device, and so from her on had to belay with an Italian hitch - luckily I'd practiced. Then we got to the end of the rock climb (so we thought). It looked to my eyes as if we'd summited an isolated pinnacle not connected to the summit ridge (easily anyway). Paul thought it was connected. We decided to continue with headtorches, moving together (another first - luckily I'd read the book well and remembered how to tie the knots) over the razor sharp ridge (in one place my only foothold was on top of a single spire of rock, with drops on all sides). Eventually we summited at just before 8:30pm - 3.5 hours after dark. 2 hours later of trudging in the snow, we were back at the car. Lesson learned - bring the damn topo, and don't underestimate how slow it is to climb in winter.

Not taking antibiotics on a S.I. traverse. Long story but eventually someone died. Wearing sandals into Napolean Biv and then a southerly came through and coated the route out with a thin layer of snow. Luckily Frank stomped out inward sloping steps as we picked our way round the bluffy bits of the trail and eventually it all melted. Trying out a new jacket in the rain which turned out to be only effective against wind. Minor stuff really after the big error. 3 times I've forgotten to bring the stove but there's always been an alternative. Once I left a lunch in the fridge...everyone gave me a bit of theirs. Leaving for our first trip to Stewart Island, I'd inadvertantly grabbed Frank's tramping clothes. He thought he'd left them behind so raced into the outdoor gear shops at Invercargill and bought new stuff. Halfway into the trip on Stewart Island, we discovered I was carrying his clothes! On the plus side, he bought some good stuff and we discovered how good the shops are in Invercargill.

Wearing brand new socks on a 3 day tramp without washing them first. I knew it was a bad idea but did it anyway, no blisters but it totally wrecked my feet. I had to grease 'em up with my olive oil to allow me to continue. Not taking sunscreen on a tops trip to Lewis Pass in summer: burnt to a crisp by the sun on face, arms and neck. Taking my summer pit on an mid autumn trip, arrived wet at the hut to find there was no dry firewood and freezing my butt off when it snowed later in the night even with ALL my spare gear on. Arriving at a hut once to find I had forgotten to put a new gas canister in my pack: cold mashedspud/2 minute noodles for dinner three days in a row are disgusting! All rookie mistakes but sometimes you just get a bit of brain fade and do stupid things....

I will add not reading the ingredients before buying. This might not sound like a mistake and for nearly all of us it isnt but I regularly tramp with someone with an anaphlactic style allergy to anything soy.We also cook communal. Pack of bbq veg at New World with separate sauce Think that saves a lot of cutting up and good mix. Open bag dump the sauce put the required amount in a different bag. Get to hut open bag see they have an oily residue. What oil is this? Biff the lot.

It wasn't tramping, but on our first sea kayaking trip in the QC Sound I forgot the food bag. Luckily by paddling an extra few kms in to and back out of Torea Bay we could buy food at Portage. Made our first day 27kms. Not bad for a couple of first time paddlers.

On a recent trip, thinking I had been there within the last 5 years and knew where the track was through the scrub. After a while I began to think that maybe it was 10 or 15 years since I was last there. There was certainly no sign of the track. It had definitely grown over. I was probably the last one to use it. I certainly won't go that way again.

numerous trips with little or no research and an inadequate map, got my backside kicked and getting repeatedly lost by rough tracks and terrain attempting trips that were too big for the conditions and my lack of ability.... ran out of food once. was sick the night before, couldnt eat dinner and no one else left me any and i had a handful of scrogging for breakfast and a ten hour treck over a mountain range off track and through snow. made it but not sure how much further i could have gone, pre beacon days. would have been a slow rescue....

Trying to stretch my gear too far. Using worn out socks (cos they haven't got holes yet) & boots that I'm slipping around in because the treads on the way out. 'Frugal' is not worth getting hurt.

May School Holidays late 1960's. A school mate and I had caught the night train to Ohakune, and climbed up to the old Blyth Hut. Then next day set off down to Mangaturuturu Hut and had an late breakfast there. (It's still got to be one of the most homely and pleasant huts in the North Is). I can recall climbing up onto the next big ridge-line, past Lake Surprise, and then onwards up and down what seemed like endless ridges. The weather was not bad, just a cool wind in our faces all day, but probably the gear we had was almost worse than useless. What I do remember quite clearly was reaching a point where I just collapsed face-first into an alpine bush of some sort and announced I wasn't moving an inch further. What saved me was my mate went about another 50m further up the track to the ridgeline proper and then yelled out "I can see the hut!". (And the few minutes lying down out of the breeze probably helped too.) Well it was enough to get me going - just. Whakapapaiti Hut could be seen alright, albeit a rather small red dot way down the valley. But once down off the open ridges the wind dropped and an hour later two very wobbly young lads staggered into the hut. In those days TNP was almost empty, even in the holidays. For most of the 10 days we were in the Park we saw no-one, but that night there were two hunters there already. They took one look at us, got us into our sleeping bags, got a brew into us and cooked our dinner. A year or so later our school showed that terrific little film "Such a Stupid Way to Die" http://www.nzonscreen.com/title/such-a-stupid-way-to-die-1971 (Still worth a watch) And it was only then, sitting in that darkened room, did I chillingly understand just how close we had both come to tipping over the edge that afternoon.