Text by: Rob McColl

Illustrations by: Alan Benge

 

Night

The bag’s too hot but my nose is cold

The bunks are hard and I’m feeling old

The snoring’s bad and I just can’t sleep

I’ve tossed and turned and counted sheep

I’m dreading tomorrow’s active slip

You’re history if your boots don’t grip

My mind keeps seeing the drop below

What logic says I have to go?

I’m scared to death my legs will freeze

I’ll wimp and shout out, ‘Help me please!’

 

Day

Outside the rain is chucking down

The rivers are up and I’ll probably drown

My boots are sodden from the day before

I don’t want to do this anymore

My parka leaks from a rip on some rocks

Trip leader accidentally burnt my socks

A rat got into my scroggin last night

And bit me when I switched on my light

The side streams are high and we have to cross

I’ve already slipped on a patch of moss

The mud on the tracks is getting me down

My face is set in a grimacing frown

The climbing never seems to stop

I’m last again and I’m fit to drop

And I ask myself why why why

Do this again? Pigs might fly

 

Home

Hello, I’m back, the trip was great

We stopped in the pub, I’m a little late

The bush was a picture, we had a ball

We heard the long-tailed cuckoo call

It was wall-to-wall fun and we all agreed

We’ll do it again, we’re a hardy breed

We’re a tiptop team, birds of a feather

It’s a joy to challenge the worst of weather

Tramping’s the best and we’ll do it again

We’re awesome, I can’t wait till then

 

This article was reproduced from the Kaumātua Tramping Club’s 60th Anniversary Book from July 2020.