This text was read by OCR from a scanned newsletter and has not been proofread yet, so expect odd characters and mistakes.
This year would be, for Pam and me Adventure, travel, fun. We'll join the local tramping club For bush walks in the sun.
“Please come along and meet the throng, From W.T.M.C. We're friendly folk, who like a joke,” Said Sue, our host, “You'll see.”
To Paua Hut, an easy nut To crack. We wanted more. “Come join my trip, put down your name,” Cried leaders from the floor.
“My trip is best, there’ll be no rest.” We'll give that one a miss. Then Helen told us of her plans To lead a tramp of bliss.
“Nlice hot showers, trees and flowers,” She promised. And a cruise To overseas exotic lands, Perhaps a little booze. A luxury hike without a bike, No need to carry packs. A boat would take the heavy stuff And leave us to relax.
Poor Helen was besieged because Us trampers one and all Saw an opportunity To go and have a ball. We borrowed gear, and things to wear And allocated food. Bring what you like on this great hike, Whatever takes your mood. ~ We stuffed our packs, with drink and snacks, - All sorts of useless stuff. And extra clothes to warm our toes, We would be warm enough.
Rob Wigmore On Friday night, we soon took flight From office, home and towns And hurried to our waiting ship To cruise the Marlborough Sounds.
As we untied, our leader cried, “Where's Andrew? He’s a jinx The silly jerk, has stayed at work He’ll have to catch the Lynx. To pass the time, we ordered wine To wash down fish and chips And took some lovely photographs Of seagulls, boats and ships.
In Picton town, we looked around For somewhere nice to stay. Then trooped off slowly in the dark As Helen led the way.
“It’s somewhere neat, so do not fear,” Cried Helen, with the map. “I’l| get you to the campground Then you can take a nap.” Let me tell you, beginners who Thought this would be a cinch. My brand new boots were far too tight And they began to pinch. The extra socks, and plastic box With spuds and beans and meat. Was weighing us poor rookies down. Oh dear, my poor old feet. With Thermorest, we slept as best We could, in Picton town. We slipped off time and time again With bed madé upside-down. ~ ~~ We heard a shout, wake up, get out Of bed, you lazy bunch. We have to catch the boat at 8 To get there before lunch.
From page 7 We took a look, where Captain Cook Had rest and recreation. He made some beer, repaired his gear And then proclaimed our nation. “Go make your way, to the next bay,” Said Helen, “Do not fear. Stay on the trail, you cannot fail, Cause I’m here at the rear.”
We huffed and puffed, and soon were stuffed It’s all uphill you know. We made it to the lookout point With Helen still in tow.
Then off we ran, as fast we can To Resolution Bay, To lunch on muffins with whipped cream, What would the purists say? Then after lunch, our cheery bunch Rejoined Queen Charlotte Walk. A time to contemplate our lives, For some, a time to talk.
Fit people raced, we were outpaced ! didn’t mind a bit. For me a hike is most worthwhile When I have time to sit.
A weka came, don’t know his name, I guess it doesn’t matter. Took turns and fed him wholesome bread. By now he must be fatter. At last we came, to a place by name Of Furneaux Lodge, I think. A shop, a pub, hot showers too, And yes — a kitchen sink.
“A bar-be-cue, is what we'll do For dinner time tonight.” Said Helen, “Jay, you be the cook, I know you'll get it right.” We cooked enough good food and stuff To last three days or more. I’m glad the boat had carried it, My back would have been sore. In broad daylight, not dead of night A common thief, I spied. She stole a mattress from the Lodge To her tent, and did hide.
We finished grub, went to the pub, And sipped a beer or two. Told stories of our schooling days. Guess some of them were true.
Some slept like logs, some snored like hogs, I didn’t hear a peep. I'd walked five hours that Saturday, My body needed sleep. Sunday at nine, with weather fine, We loaded up our pack. We weren't afraid, for we had paid The boat to take it back.
We soon did meet, a lady sweet, An Aucklander, was she. “Please can I join your tramping club, This trail I’d love to see?”
“Why not,” we cried. “Don’t run and hide, You look just like our mob. We have with us interpreters, Their names are Pam and Rob.”
So off we went, without a tent Or pack to slow us down. Cross swingbridge and through native bush To Punga Cove, were bound. With no more shops, and frequent stops We covered 11 k And finally made it to the end. A lovely little bay. The sea was cool, some tried the pool To ease their aching feet. A helicopter landed too, Some Corporate types to meet.
To Picton town, we soon were bound, An hour or two to kill. A cold beer or an ice-cream. Which one the biggest thrill? Made lots of friends, as this trip ends l guess I’ve learnt a lot. Those extra clothes, are extra woes, Especially when it’s hot. I'll keep my boots, and sell my suits, This tramping looks a blast. I'll steer clear of the fitter types, They just go too darn fast.
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