The Ballad of Blackwater Stream

This text was read by OCR from a scanned newsletter and has not been proofread yet, so expect odd characters and mistakes.

A group of medium trampers turned up at 7 p.m. At the grey platform nine' of the station And the van that was waiting for them.: "We're ready to conquer that. river" (or so their brave leader had said). "Stuff you", they all yelled with conviction "We just want to crawl off to bed." Two hours and many yawns later They appeared to have reached the right place But, this doesn't look right" said the leader With a rather red-tinted face. 'Cos driving around in the darkness They'd missed the turn-off by miles "Be a little while yet till bedtime" Said the leader with cheesey-type smiles. Reaching the Ohau roadend, They were itching to hit the track "I've warned you all", said the leader, "So now' S your chance to turn back". But the mediums, fearing nothing Plunged on into the trees With wheezy possums, their torches failing And mudpoois up to the knees, Camping at Ohau shelter There was fun to be had by all - A friendly nocturnal possum and Barry They really had a ball. The rest of us had to content ourselves With a murky looking brew After which the lights went out In the flies of the medium crew. sou. Next morning the genuine trampers They were up at the crack of dawn CEST While. some communed with nature, Others had brekkie on. the lawn. Then. they all left for the Blackwater, That mythical legendary place And slipped and slid up: the river At a most uneven pace. At 10 o'clock they reached the spur f Up which they had to climb And despite the moans of pain They reached the top in record time. With rumbling tums they now dashed Full pelt to Waiopehu Hut for lunch And after a lengthy search for the door They entered and sat down to munch, Afternoon was spent in confusion Which was the right spur to go: down? The elusive Waiopehu corner Was simply not to be foundi A faithful sheep was heard to bleat "Where the heck are we going?

"Search me" cried the worried leader Her bushcraft not really showing. But tired and fed up and mutinous The. mediums still blundered on; When next they glanced round behind them The leader and Catherine were gone They had found whac looked like a spur Leading down to Makaretu stream The others then quickly joined them And once more were: a champion team, Like those possessed with the demon They, bashed through the bushes with zeal Through mingi-mingi, supplejack, ponga To them it was now no big-deal, They groveiled down the edgé of a cliff face Hanging onto the scrubi by. their teethi Ever present the-thought of a cruel: death Dashed on : the moscy boulders beneath. Thought the leader, we've'dropped off the spur As they reached a small scrub-covered stream So they sat down to gobble scme scroggin Before continuing on as a team. CA Slippery boulders, nettles and hookgrass R Were now the name of the game "My dear: comrades" yelled the leader "Aren't you just thrilled that you came? ?" Emerging at last from the long ordeal : Hje Of slogging and battling with the trees The mediums were ready to hit the pit And grab a few much needed z's. But the evening was spent round a campfire Gulping down meat they' had stewed And talking about meaningful topics Such as flamethrowers and Rodney.S.Ride. Next morning they were not so eariy AM 10 a.m. to be quite precise * : But all that remained was to stroll down the stream So sleeping in late felt quite nice. In the warm pleasant sunshine they travelled Being cooled by compulsory swims. Richard Fergusor. tried to avoid them The team should have just pulled him ini The brave troops got to the farmland Where they cut across to Poads road The Avis van was waiting and They were eager to lighten their load, There is a deep moral to this ballad and If you understand what I mean You really should know what you're in for Before you tackle the Blackwater Stream. Thanks to all who participated: Michelle & Barry, Dave, Noel Pepperell, Catherine Croucher, Richard Ferguson, Lorna Chinn, (Susan Fry).