Barbara Barnes, Pat Denniston and Jocelyn Patten recall the 1950 ski holiday. Photo / Paul Charman
The wooden lengths came back pointed at the front and cut at right-angles at the back.
To curve-up the fronts, children boiled the boards in their mothers' coppers, which took hours.
"My mother let me do it on condition that I chopped the firewood required to boil the copper for six hours, and it was a big job. When the pointed ends of the skis were softened sufficiently we could put them in vices and clamps to turn them up," said Pat.
The class raised money for the trip by doing odd jobs in the community and pooling pocket money. The Education Department agreed to subsidise train fares.
Using their funds, the class purchased plate steel and the boys formed boot holders and bindings in metalwork, though some dads may have helped with this.
"But before you got to the binding stage you had to plane and sand, plane and sand until it was utterly smooth."
The children made their poles out of broom handles or dowling.
Circular "baskets" at bottom of the poles were made supplejack, harvested from the bush, curved into a circle and connected to the pole with wire.
The "boards", which were clipped and buckled onto leather boots, were crude by today's standards.
But they worked surprisingly well, said the women. So well, that most of the class took them back to Ruapehu for more fun the following August holidays.
The three women recalled the excitement of getting off the train about midnight at National Park, then boarding a bus which took them to their huts at the top'o the Bruce.
Lasting impression
Next day they hired boots at the Chateau and, following some tuition, were soon riding the T-bar and whizzing down the slopes on their home-made skies.
There were also hikes to Taranaki Falls and other destinations on the mountain.
Barabara Barnes: "Some adults were prepared to do the work to make the trip possible and sixty-plus years later the memories are still glowing. Today OSH would insist on more paperwork and make more rules, but no one (in the class) was seriously hurt.
"Those walks to the waterfalls made a lasting impression - this sort of activity became part of my life."
The Auckland Star interviewed and photographed the before they loaded their wooden skies and other equipment onto the train bound for National Park.
The article celebrates the fact that 12 to 14 year-old children were off on such a far-flung adventure. Only half a line notes "skis were made", so it seems this activity wasn't such a big deal back in 1950.
"The children have organised the trip as part of school project work," said the writer.
"All correspondence, arranging transport and accommodation has been handled by Form II committees. For over a month they have studied the history and geography of the National Park area. Parents have supported the scheme since the class sent out its first circular letter to them some weeks ago. Since then skies have been made, clothes have been lent and advice and encouragement freely given . . ."
Leverson's alpine club friends - two were fellow teachers at Takapuna - instructed the children in climbing techniques, alpine survival and first aid.
"All first aid equipment necessary will be carried by the group," said the Star.
"And should bad conditions be encountered the children will participate in community singing and games."
The women said growing up during the 1950s money was tight and children making their own fun was more or less an expectation.
Health and safety seemed to be less of an issue, teachers behaved more like parents and - though sexual matters were certainly known to that generation - the children were possibly a bit less sexualised at an early age, the women said.
The Chateau
Travelling back to Mt Ruapehu since then, the women say much has changed. Only some of the older huts and the Chateau Tongariro remain the same.
The Chateau, now in its 85th year, seems to be a constant for people visiting the mountain, they said.
Brad McGlynn and the unchanging Chateau Tongariro. Photo / Paul Charman
Resident manager Brad McGlynn said his guests include a significant number with keen memories from the past.
"In this country, the Chateau is unique in having served several generations of active tourists. They're just as intent on getting out to enjoying the outdoors as they ever were, though now as well as skiing in winter, it's hiking in summer and cycling year-round.
And there's always guests who come back to enjoy the memories this place gave them in years gone by."
McGlynn says the iconic hotel balances old-world charm with all the latest technology guests demand.
Interestingly, one of the challenges faced way back in the 1930s - that of finding and retaining good staff - remains a challenge in 2014.
"We're fortunate to have great chefs and other hotel staff, but there's no disguising the fact that you're isolated living up here. It suits people who're seeking experience in one of New Zealand's iconic hotels, particularly if they enjoy the outdoors, but it doesn't suit everyone."
McGlynn points out that the Chateau employs nearly 100 people and controls a large segment of the cafe, restaurant and bar trade on the mountain.
"We're blessed with the talent we have. But if you need the best there's a problem. This is still a small country, our best people need to travel overseas to get experience. When they leave to travel, the hospitality industry struggles to replace them.
"We use a lot of talented expatriates - chefs and others who are travelling around the world and hence are attracted to a location like this one.
"However, something which would really help us would be if the Government extended work visas in the hospitality trade from six months to a more useful 12 months.
"That would provide time for our people visiting from overseas to enjoy working here, plus getting around and seeing other parts of the country."
The 1950s
If all this conjures up nostalgic images in your mind, you're not alone.
Poet and writer Bill Manhire's poem "The 1950s", which recounts the good things about growing up in that decade, is now quite famous.
The first verse of his wonderful poem is reproduced with permission:
The 1950s
My cricket bat. My football boots.
My fishing rod. My hula hoop.
My cowboy chaps. My scooter.
Draughts. Happy Families. Euchre.
Ludo. Snap. My Davy Crockett hat.
My bicycle. My bow and arrow.
My puncture kit. My cat.
The straight and narrow. Fancy that.
