take some piccies". Very casual. The door at the bottom of the stack for Boilers 1 and 2 was small, I had to stoop to enter, the inside quite dark by the time the door locked behind me.
There was a torch but the steps were difficult to see. The lift was mesh and motor. Small and cramped. Slow and steady. 0.5 metres per second, 500 feet. Up. Up in the dark.
The last few steps to the roof of the stack was stairs. The door opened to brilliant sunshine, because the day was perfect fine wintered. The view breathtaking. The safety wall a little high for short woman, but I just held the camera out over the edge.
You can see the other stack rising from the back of the precipitators in this picture.
The top of the other stack, and the Waikato River winding it's way North.
I climbed to the top of the stacks at Kapuni Treatment Plant too, years ago. They weren't nearly as high at 123 ft but being so much smaller in diameter they moved, swayed, the platform at the top so narrow, it frightened me. The top of the Huntly stacks was comfortable and secure.
Failed absailing though. Crumpled and chickened out my arse hanging out harnessed in mid air. I regret the instructors didn't offer more confidence before hanging young girls out over a cliff because I would love to have the experience. Like I love the experience of white water rafting. I've done that and like it a lot. Skiing, well.. I am really terrible.. i am really really good at getting up, but that's because I am really really good at falling down. I remember having to walk off a mountain carrying my skiis because I couldn't ski. Two and a half hours with tears frozen on my face from exhaustion and frustration. Of course, being the sensible type these days I would have lessons but in those days I just followed skiers and failed spectacularly [coming off the chair lift and knocking four skiers off their pegs]
And I remember the time I was lost in the bush with girls. Not for long, just long enough to become terrified. Then to start thinking crystal clearly through the screaming hysterics of some of the others.
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