The Cody Experience
(a poem by Yoke, winter 2001)

We have gathered together to meet,
To enjoy an adventurous feat.
The bush-walk starts at eight,
So that we will not finish too late.

Colin Cody is the leader’s name,
The one of the toughest walks fame.
“Who is going to follow me,
To the hill beyond the tree?”
I look and vaguely see it.
It looks far; I’m not that fit.
Colin’s walking a path that no man has gone.
It’s his destiny to fulfil when he was born.

He strides straight forward,
Then disappears into the hill’s leeward.
Stuart volunteers to be the whip.
He is a veteran of many trips.
We walk in a single file up the path,
We pass a river but do not stop for a bath.

Owen’s in front, he cannot be seen,
His pace is fast, cracking and keen.
We are over our heads in scrubland,
The undergrowth is slippery, and difficult to stand.

Neil stops for a check with his compass,
He lines up the ash in the forest.
Lunch is 10 minutes; why linger?
Walking time must not be sacrificed for hunger.
Our lunch spot is a hole in the valley,
We gobble our food; we dare not dally.

We are hemmed in by bracken and fern.
We sit side by side, no place to turn.
Bruce Meincke has started his lecturing,
Today the topic is back-packing.
I look at all the walkers about,
His word no one will doubt.
We have a head count and find one missing,
He has gone to the bushes, pissing.

We scramble up a cliff-face, and I get vertigo,
There are only 50 more metres to go.
I think I’m alone and in trouble,
I had better turn back on the double.

I have walked as fast as I can,
But I cannot see the next cairn.
We climb up higher and higher,
Our breath comes out hot like fire.

At last we are at the top.
We look around, the view is a flop.
We have climbed a tremendous height,
For such a disappointing sight.

We now face a descent that is steep,
Over the edge is a chasm deep.
I fly down the hill fleet of foot.
Then I fall and stumble on a root.
A branch has ripped apart my shirt.
My face is caked with brown dirt.
I am amazed I am not hurt.
Next week, an indoor pursuit I will flirt.

Dorothy’s knees are starting to buckle,
Ron reaches to brace her with his knuckle.
Darren is rearin’ to speed ahead,
His back-pack is heavy and feels like lead.
Peter is starting to drag his feet,
He looks about to expire in this heat.
Vanna is bopping happily along,
She is enjoying every minute and a song.

We see a fork over yonder.
The leaders gather to ponder.
We seem to have missed many landmarks.
I heard a shout: “Through the gap in the park”.

It is starting to get dark.
We still haven’t reached the car-park.
At last, the cars are in sight.
It is past eight, and day has become night.

Today we walked thirty-eight kilometres,
I saw a lot of ground and not many features.

This is my first walk with the club.
We celebrate with some beers in a pub.
I cannot wait for a soak in the tub,
Followed by a massage and a rub.
I fall asleep all the way home,
I am sore and weary to the bone.
I am after all a novice walker.
I would have preferred a route that was shorter.
It was an interesting experience for me.
Would I do it again? Well, maybe!