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 It opened with a welcome to Ron Knightley, who has been readmitted to active membership after being away in New Zealand, the Antarctic, South Australia and other places for six years.
-After the reading of the minutes containing the motion which declares shirts to be non-essentials, the President said his attention had been drawn to a clause in the Federation Code of Ethics, to which we originally subscribed (You will read more about this in another article in this issus, Ed.) The clause stated that walkers were not to appear scantily dressed in public.
+After the reading of the minutes containing the motion which declares shirts to be non-essentials, the President said his attention had been drawn to a clause in the Federation Code of Ethics, to which we originally subscribed (You will read more about this in another article in this issue, Ed.) The clause stated that walkers were not to appear scantily dressed in public.
 Next the meeting got down to a serious discussion on the falling off of walking in N.S.W., as described in Paddy Pallin's report to Federation. Tom Moppett moved that our delegates to Federation suggest that, in place of the normal type of Federation Annual, we investigate the publication of a booklet describing easy walks and giving general information about walking and the bush, and that the S.B.W. undertake this work. Allan Hardie thought that bushwalking clubs were too exclusive. Many walkers were "burnt off" early in their walking careers. Some got into clubs by dint of perseverence and then dropped out. We should make entrance easy - like the Youth Hostels Association, and we could also imitate the sociability of the Hostels movement. Jim Hooper asked whether bushwalking was dropping off in other states, and finding it wasn't suggested it would be better to donate funds to a "so-called Sales Campaign." Grace Aird, Membership Secretary, said that members generally did not come from publicity - only one member had come in through the article on bushwalking in the "Women's Weekly." Most come in through personal contact with members. An amendment to the effect that we offer to "co-operate in" the production of a booklet, rather than undertake it, was defeated. Alan Strom said the amendment would make it more difficult for the delegates to have the scheme adopted. The motion was carried.
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 Next we had a new report - the Walks Secretary's monthly report, which was listened to with interest and appears on another page.
-After this Frank Rigby moved that we appoint a panel of four to look into the question of publicity for bushwalking. He was impressed by the success of an amateur society which he knew, which had approached the A.B.C. and was not only allotted time, but paid for it at the rate of a guinea a minute. He thought a lot of people would like to go bushwalking but didn't know where to go to join a club. The committee should not work for the S.B.W. only, but fot membership of all clubs. Jim Hooper thought the S.B.W. alone couldn't accomplish the necessary publicity. It would involve cash and should be a Federation matter. Frank Rigby, Grace Aird, Jim Hooper and Tom Moppett were appointed to the Committee.
+After this Frank Rigby moved that we appoint a panel of four to look into the question of publicity for bushwalking. He was impressed by the success of an amateur society which he knew, which had approached the A.B.C. and was not only allotted time, but paid for it at the rate of a guinea a minute. He thought a lot of people would like to go bushwalking but didn't know where to go to join a club. The committee should not work for the S.B.W. only, but for membership of all clubs. Jim Hooper thought the S.B.W. alone couldn't accomplish the necessary publicity. It would involve cash and should be a Federation matter. Frank Rigby, Grace Aird, Jim Hooper and Tom Moppett were appointed to the Committee.
 Alex Colley thought that if we had a good Sunday walks programme it would encourage new members, and moved that volunteers be called for to lead walks - if necessary over routes suggested by the Walks Secretary. Nine members volunteered, including the President who offered to lead two Sunday walks when no more that nine people volunteered.
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 After tents had been erected and gear unpacked we were ready to go caving, __complete__ with torches and batteries. The caves' entrances were about 100 yards downstream from our camp. Standing below this entrance and looking up from the creek we could see two tall red cedar trees framed by a huge rocky cave whose entrance appeared to be choked with great boulders. We reached this point, and after trying several false leads we found a good entrance higher up on the hillside. Conditions were reasonable as the caves were mainly dry and the four squeeze holes we went through were not too small for an Admiral.
-Some of the caves were rather large and a few of them contained the usual live limestone formations; the rest housed mostly dead rock, dirt, and live bats, but it was interesting trying out all the different leads and following the string ard arrows!! After a while we picked on the main chain of caves and walked and crawled and wriggled through, gradually dropping lower and lower until, after about an hour and a half, we decided we were probably level with the creek as the cave's floor was covered with water. Suddenly Brian shouted, "Oh, we're out again," and we emerged into the daylight about five feet above the creek.
+Some of the caves were rather large and a few of them contained the usual live limestone formations; the rest housed mostly dead rock, dirt, and live bats, but it was interesting trying out all the different leads and following the string and arrows!! After a while we picked on the main chain of caves and walked and crawled and wriggled through, gradually dropping lower and lower until, after about an hour and a half, we decided we were probably level with the creek as the cave's floor was covered with water. Suddenly Brian shouted, "Oh, we're out again," and we emerged into the daylight about five feet above the creek.
 We were sitting around the fire after tea when lights started bobbing down the track and six chaps appeared out of the night. They told us they had left their cars at Colong and walked out in the dark. They intended to go into the caves after tea that night and head for home after breakfast next morning. We invited them to cook on our fire as it was then about 9 o'clock, and while doing this they told us they were mainly freelance walkers and rather interested in caving.
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 "Then we must be in different squeeze holes!" bellowed Brian. (Elementary, my dear Anderson.)
-Finally we left the caves, and before hitting the track plunged into the creek for a swim - never let it be said 'for a wash' - to dissolve the inground, underground mud - or rather, Heatner and I plunged into the creek; the others jibbed the issue. Lundt was eaten near the top of a waterfall, with Kanangra Walls and surrounds in the blue distance for scenery. On the track again. Back to the saddle with Big Rick to the right.
+Finally we left the caves, and before hitting the track plunged into the creek for a swim - never let it be said 'for a wash' - to dissolve the inground, underground mud - or rather, Heather and I plunged into the creek; the others jibbed the issue. Lundt was eaten near the top of a waterfall, with Kanangra Walls and surrounds in the blue distance for scenery. On the track again. Back to the saddle with Big Rick to the right.
 "Who's going to climb Big Rick?" asked the Leader.
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 Back again, barefooted, over grass covered in thistles and sharp pointed rocks...... Enough! This episode is better not mentioned!!! Oh, the indignity or it! Oh, the agony of it!
-Ah, the rock ledge at last - luxury to walk on - and below and beyond uur sought-after view - the Kowmung River weaving a path through the blue, blue mountains, a map at our feet.
+Ah, the rock ledge at last - luxury to walk on - and below and beyond our sought-after view - the Kowmung River weaving a path through the blue, blue mountains, a map at our feet.
 Colong Swamp and the creek passed over our boots and the track and then the road passed under them, before we finally choofed into Yerranderie at sunset. Packs were downed and repairs to a certain vehicle were necessary, which included lessons on cleaning spark plugs, punctuated by cups of tea consumed around a blackfellow's fire. Eventually we pulled out of Yerranderie under cover of darkness, leaving the inhabitants to wonder who the unseen travellers were on a certain fine week-end in May.
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 The June Meeting of the Federation was attended by 25 delegates and 4 visitors - a record number by recent standards.
-The adjourned discussion on the motion "that Annual __Reunions of Federation__ should be discontinued" was carried forward. Speakers in fovour pointed out that only adverse publicity could arise from the standards being set by some recent Reunions, whilst those opposed to the motion thought that the intrinsic value of Reunions should be brought to the top by better Federation management. The motion was lost, this bringing forward from the President a comment that all clubs voting against discontinuance must support all efforts to prevent misbehaviour of all kinds. It was thereupon agreed that the Camp Committee should, on the actual days of the Reunion, consist of representatives of all Clubs present, and that it should receive direction from Council as to measures to be taken to ensure satisfactory behaviour at the Reunion.
+The adjourned discussion on the motion "that Annual __Reunions of Federation__ should be discontinued" was carried forward. Speakers in favour pointed out that only adverse publicity could arise from the standards being set by some recent Reunions, whilst those opposed to the motion thought that the intrinsic value of Reunions should be brought to the top by better Federation management. The motion was lost, this bringing forward from the President a comment that all clubs voting against discontinuance must support all efforts to prevent misbehaviour of all kinds. It was thereupon agreed that the Camp Committee should, on the actual days of the Reunion, consist of representatives of all Clubs present, and that it should receive direction from Council as to measures to be taken to ensure satisfactory behaviour at the Reunion.
 __Good Neighbour Council__: The secretary explained that this Council aimed to help a number of migrants (largely British) to fit in with the Australian way of life. He appealed to all Clubs to assist this work by offering leaders for trips with adults and children, and speakers on nature lore and Australian out doors. Opportunities existed for excellent work to be done in the field of Nature Preservation. Council also agreed that Federation should affiliate with the Good Neighbour Council.
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 __Federation Ball__ will take place on 6th October at Hotel Australia, Tickets £1. Book through the Social Secretary. It will not be permitted to bring liquor into the ballroom.
-__Honorary Treasurer__: The office has remained vacant for some time and may interfere with ths presentation of the Financial Statement at the Annual General Meeting. Are there any volunteers, please?
+__Honorary Treasurer__: The office has remained vacant for some time and may interfere with the presentation of the Financial Statement at the Annual General Meeting. Are there any volunteers, please?
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 The next two trips could only muster one starter between them and by suitable negotiation the trips were cancelled.
-Alex Colley was the leader of the Mt. Solitary - Cedar Crk. trip which he was unable to finish because of __good__ leadership. Six members and two prospectives set out, and on Satruday one of the prospectives was not going very well, so Alex withdrew with the said prospective, leaving the remaining six to complete the trip. The basic principles of safety were observed and no one was left to fend for himself.
+Alex Colley was the leader of the Mt. Solitary - Cedar Crk. trip which he was unable to finish because of __good__ leadership. Six members and two prospectives set out, and on Saturday one of the prospectives was not going very well, so Alex withdrew with the said prospective, leaving the remaining six to complete the trip. The basic principles of safety were observed and no one was left to fend for himself.
 Trip 5 to Blue Gum drew no starters. Could it be that members thought they might have to do a bit of fixing on the dam?
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 Until just before the war, no climber would consider risking his life on anything but a 120-foot hunk of manila rope. Nylon rope, which had just come on the market, was regarded with suspicion by Eastern (U.S.A.) climbers, but the Sierra Club decided to try it out.
-The method of testing was somewhat unusual. Robinson, Leonard and Brower found themse1ves a suitable rock, abaut 30 ft. high, in a Berkley Park. One man would sit down, bracing himself solidly, and pass the rope around his body for a belay - meaning a position from which he could stop the fall of another climber. The second man would tie into the rope and jump off the edge of the rock. As he fell, the rope was allowed to slide, and then gradually tightened until the second man came to a stop not far above ground level.
+The method of testing was somewhat unusual. Robinson, Leonard and Brower found themse1ves a suitable rock, about 30 ft. high, in a Berkley Park. One man would sit down, bracing himself solidly, and pass the rope around his body for a belay - meaning a position from which he could stop the fall of another climber. The second man would tie into the rope and jump off the edge of the rock. As he fell, the rope was allowed to slide, and then gradually tightened until the second man came to a stop not far above ground level.
 After 20 tests the manila rope broke, with some discomfort to the second man. The nylon rope, however,  was still going strong after 200 practice falls. The test crew grew so proficient that at the end of the experiment the second man could leap eighteen feet into space before he was halted in his flight and then lowered slowly to earth.
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 Consequent upon the adoption of the Code, the Federation addressed all Federated Clubs, asking that they ratify and acknowledge the Code as their Club standard of bushwalking ethics. Our then Committee naturally, on behalf of the members, adopted the Code as it was entirely in keeping with out Objects and Club practices at that time. However, at the subsequent Annual General Meeting, when all Club By-laws passed since inception were submitted to the meeting for ratification, the Committee's decision was reversed, and it was decided NOT to adopt the code. It was held that the Code was merely a re-statement of the S.B.W normal practice behaviour and that the adoption of the Code was unnecessary.
-This decision, in my opinion, high-handed, smug and left the door open to dnager. In teh first place, it was treated with some scorn in the Federation Council and has not been forgotten, as the matter was mentioned at a Council meeting a few months ago. Further, we have been told by outside sources that we are a "smug" club - the attitude adopted in this matter does not tend to disprove that statement. The danger is that our general practice and behaviour is liable to undergo evolution, and what we thought proper in 1949 may not hold good today. At one time it was accepted as good manners to ask permission of Leaders to remove one's shirt, as the time and place may not have been propitious for that action. At a recent Monthly Meeting when members were asked to recognise that custom, a resolution was passed that free rein be given to members in the discretion of removing, or conversely, wearing of shirts. This freedom cuts across that Code of Ethics which exhorts walkers to avoid scant attire in public and so assist to gain the respect of the citizen. This clearly demonstrates that changes are taking place in attitude.
+This decision, in my opinion, high-handed, smug and left the door open to danger. In the first place, it was treated with some scorn in the Federation Council and has not been forgotten, as the matter was mentioned at a Council meeting a few months ago. Further, we have been told by outside sources that we are a "smug" club - the attitude adopted in this matter does not tend to disprove that statement. The danger is that our general practice and behaviour is liable to undergo evolution, and what we thought proper in 1949 may not hold good today. At one time it was accepted as good manners to ask permission of Leaders to remove one's shirt, as the time and place may not have been propitious for that action. At a recent Monthly Meeting when members were asked to recognise that custom, a resolution was passed that free rein be given to members in the discretion of removing, or conversely, wearing of shirts. This freedom cuts across that Code of Ethics which exhorts walkers to avoid scant attire in public and so assist to gain the respect of the citizen. This clearly demonstrates that changes are taking place in attitude.
-Incoming Prospective Members are handed a copy of "Hints to Propsective Members" to which is appended a copy of the Code of Ethics, and they are told these ethics have been "the standard practice inthis Club for over twenty years"! However, the fact of the matter is that incoming members, and as far as that goes, accepted members, are not bound by any behaviour rules other than a few restrictions contained in our By-Laws. The statement in our "Hints to Prospectives" that the pactices therein are OUR practices has NOT bee ratified by a general Meeting. As a point of fact, we have no written Accepted Practices as far as our Club is concerned and members can therefore do as they please, subject to the By-Law that dogs must not be brought on Official Walks and that natural observance of the Law is expected. This places the Club in a very invidious and ludicrous position when we have the effrontery to complain to Federation Council about the behaviour of the members of other walking clubs who, for example, deemed it their pleasure and privilege to kick up their heels in the small hours of the morning at Federation Reunions, or that a party of Wolf Cubs left empty packets of "Minties" on the track and so despoiled the idyllic surroundings of the bush.
+Incoming Prospective Members are handed a copy of "Hints to Propsective Members" to which is appended a copy of the Code of Ethics, and they are told these ethics have been "the standard practice in this Club for over twenty years"! However, the fact of the matter is that incoming members, and as far as that goes, accepted members, are not bound by any behaviour rules other than a few restrictions contained in our By-Laws. The statement in our "Hints to Prospectives" that the practices therein are OUR practices has NOT bee ratified by a general Meeting. As a point of fact, we have no written Accepted Practices as far as our Club is concerned and members can therefore do as they please, subject to the By-Law that dogs must not be brought on Official Walks and that natural observance of the Law is expected. This places the Club in a very invidious and ludicrous position when we have the effrontery to complain to Federation Council about the behaviour of the members of other walking clubs who, for example, deemed it their pleasure and privilege to kick up their heels in the small hours of the morning at Federation Reunions, or that a party of Wolf Cubs left empty packets of "Minties" on the track and so despoiled the idyllic surroundings of the bush.
-It is quite open to question what is the 'Accepted practice' of our Club in anything, for who with any degree of certainty can authoritatively define it? The practice of a member elected, say at the most recent Committee meeting, is more open to question than that of one of our Foundation Members - because we have no established written and ratified Accepted Practices. The Hints and General Information imparted to Prospective Members at Instructional Week-end Camps regarding "Do's and Dont's" are therefore purely unofficial. In applying for membership the Prospective only agrees to abide by the Club Corstitution and By-Laws. He, or any full member of our Club, can litter the tracks with papers and orange-peel, leave garbage and tins in the camp-fire-place, chop standing trees, wash in creeks upstream from camp, carve initials on trees or raise Cain whilst in the train - just as he thinks fit. Any nobody has any authority to take him to task, save that a complaint may be lodged with the Committee, which again has no written authority to fall back on as to mode of behaviour, to enable it to reprimand.
+It is quite open to question what is the 'Accepted practice' of our Club in anything, for who with any degree of certainty can authoritatively define it? The practice of a member elected, say at the most recent Committee meeting, is more open to question than that of one of our Foundation Members - because we have no established written and ratified Accepted Practices. The Hints and General Information imparted to Prospective Members at Instructional Week-end Camps regarding "Do's and Dont's" are therefore purely unofficial. In applying for membership the Prospective only agrees to abide by the Club Constitution and By-Laws. He, or any full member of our Club, can litter the tracks with papers and orange-peel, leave garbage and tins in the camp-fire-place, chop standing trees, wash in creeks upstream from camp, carve initials on trees or raise Cain whilst in the train - just as he thinks fit. Any nobody has any authority to take him to task, save that a complaint may be lodged with the Committee, which again has no written authority to fall back on as to mode of behaviour, to enable it to reprimand.
 The foregoing remarks may have taken things to the extreme, but I challenge anyone to dispute the statements, which are my own opinion and do not reflect that of the Committee.
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 Now came a session of opening and shutting gates. George's car was in the lead with Brian's following. At the first gate out leapt the Dalai Lama, threw open the gate for George, then banged it shut before the other car could get through and dashed back to home base. George looked a bit startled at this turn of events but was easily persuaded to drive on. There was a roar from the occupants of the Watson car and Garth leapt out like a cateract down a mountain side, opened the gate again for his car, closed the gate and dashed for his vehicle which was moving off in pursuit of George - all this before the shocked bewildered gaze of a stolid back-country family on their verandah.
-It was a neck and neck race to the next gate with us all laying the odds heavily in our own favour. There was a bit of a dry creek bed which held up the Watson babe and again we made it and slammed the gate in front of its nose. The Greymobile passengers screamed their delight and sped on. From then on the pace became fast and furious. Between gates the Dalai Lama hung on to his door handle quivering like a whippet on the leash, George kept his foot on the accelerator and the supressed excitement inside the car nearly blew its roof off.
+It was a neck and neck race to the next gate with us all laying the odds heavily in our own favour. There was a bit of a dry creek bed which held up the Watson babe and again we made it and slammed the gate in front of its nose. The Greymobile passengers screamed their delight and sped on. From then on the pace became fast and furious. Between gates the Dalai Lama hung on to his door handle quivering like a whippet on the leash, George kept his foot on the accelerator and the suppressed excitement inside the car nearly blew its roof off.
 The Watson baby bounced and whirled along in pursuit, Garth almost falling out the door with eagerness. Whenever they managed to get through with us before the gate was shut they filled the air with cheers and jeers and yells of exultation. The only gate we found open was one with the inscription "Keep this bloody gate shut!!" As we found it open we left it open, but I still think we should have left it bloody shut.
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 As George, Garth and I proceeded upwards we could see the others had gone over to a hill opposite to get a grandstand view of the proceedings. A long view of the whole face, as seen from opposite, reveals it as completely and utterly impossible, but with our noses only a couple of inches from the damp rock we couldn't get this impression, so continued. Eventually there was a chimney blocked by chockstones, and this was as far as George had got on a previous occasion. A bit of muscle applied to the chockstones loosened them and I tossed them down one by one. They made a most impressive crashing as they went, and later we found one had narrowly missed braining the Dalai Lama who had not gone with the others but was waiting for us down below.
-The chimney was practically vertical all the way to the top, but being a chimney it was climable so we all got up it and so to the top at last. Here was the usual cairn, and in it we found Pat Sullivan's name together with a party of Melbourne University Bushwalkers. We tried to pick out our camp but it was hidden in the trees.
+The chimney was practically vertical all the way to the top, but being a chimney it was climbable so we all got up it and so to the top at last. Here was the usual cairn, and in it we found Pat Sullivan's name together with a party of Melbourne University Bushwalkers. We tried to pick out our camp but it was hidden in the trees.
 Then down we went again to the windy corner. A cold sleet-like wind was biting at our exposed hands making rope work far from cheerful. George and Garth were belayed down. I followed on a double rope which we intended to pull down after us but the perverse thing stuck and no amount of pulling or flicking would dislodge it. I was rather dismayed at the thought of having to go back up to release it but also felt guilty about going down and leaving it. "I should go back for it," said I, not very convincingly, but Co-leader Coulter said "No." (That's what you have a Co-leader for - to stop you from doing what you don't want to do.) We finished the descent without the rope and joined the Dalai Lama down below and had lunch, 4 1/2 hours after having started the climb.
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 "That's not my business," I shouted back. "You've got to lower me down."
-"Swiz!" yelled back Pete, and I supposed that meant he had caught on becuase the lowering process commenced. As I jerked down the rock face past an overhang suddenly the rope stopped.
+"Swiz!" yelled back Pete, and I supposed that meant he had caught on because the lowering process commenced. As I jerked down the rock face past an overhang suddenly the rope stopped.
 "Keep on coming," yelled Snow and Stitt.
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 They let the rope slack but I still dangled motionless over aeons of space. O Horror! The rope had stuck! I climbed back up it and released it, then launched myself again, but again the rope refused to run freely so I climbed up again to the belay tree, wondering was mountaineering such a sport after all, and sat down to think. But Garth came to the rescue by sending up his caribiner loop of rope, I looped this round the tree, hoping Garth's splice was as secure as it looked, passed the climbing rope through and gave the signal to Snow and Stitt to lower away - and this time it worked. They were blythely viewing the far scenery as I descended. "See that creek down there Dot," called Pete as I dangled 30 ft. above his head, "That's the one the Admiral and I came up yesterday." (Ho ho. Patience my soul!) I didn't answer, and by the time I arrived safely down at their ledge I had had time to count ten.
-Then we came down and rejoined the others and went over to the short face of Crater Bluff and had lunch in sunshine. "You never forget a mountain," I said, but nevertheless I found it difficult to recognise the place I had climbed before. None of the places I tried out looked suitable for the party, so we went down to have a look at the steep face, which was where Dr. Dark and I had made our virgin climb years before. Garth had cut his foot during the barefoot doings on Belougerie the previous day and was hors de combat, so George, Snow and I had a short climb on the ledges and decided to come back again tomrrow. Then we all went down to the creek and followed up the ridge to the base of Belougerie and so back to camp. Here we had to give our attention to food troubles. The humidity had wrought havoc with our meat. The Dalai Lama had already cooked up all his on the first night, which left him with 6 lbs. of potatoes, 2 pkts. of cornflakes and a tin of sardines for the ensuing 4 days, and I had to jettison some suasages and the remains of a cooked sirloin. However we all cashed in on the Watsons' surplus and nobody went hungry.
+Then we came down and rejoined the others and went over to the short face of Crater Bluff and had lunch in sunshine. "You never forget a mountain," I said, but nevertheless I found it difficult to recognise the place I had climbed before. None of the places I tried out looked suitable for the party, so we went down to have a look at the steep face, which was where Dr. Dark and I had made our virgin climb years before. Garth had cut his foot during the barefoot doings on Belougerie the previous day and was hors de combat, so George, Snow and I had a short climb on the ledges and decided to come back again tomorrow. Then we all went down to the creek and followed up the ridge to the base of Belougerie and so back to camp. Here we had to give our attention to food troubles. The humidity had wrought havoc with our meat. The Dalai Lama had already cooked up all his on the first night, which left him with 6 lbs. of potatoes, 2 pkts. of cornflakes and a tin of sardines for the ensuing 4 days, and I had to jettison some sausages and the remains of a cooked sirloin. However we all cashed in on the Watsons' surplus and nobody went hungry.
 Monday saw us early astir on a nice fine day and off we all set direct to Crater Bluff. Garth was nursing his injured foot, so it was George Snow and I for it. We left the others down in the creek and made up to our ledges in sunshine. They were the same hair-raising ledges as of yore, and as I wedged myself into the remembered crack on the sheer face I could see myself, a raw teenager so long and long ago, quivering with excitement, my breath trembling with eagerness as, with my experienced companion, I made my first virgin climb. I supposed that was how Snow was feeling, and probably George too. It was a pity we weren't able to finish, but we had come to a very tricky lichen-covered bulge which defied the combined tactics of George and myself, and now the rain started and made the situation hopeless. We realised it would be suicide to try to go on over the slippery lichen, but hanging over us like a threat was also the knowledge that we had to get back again the way we had come.
-We crouched under a slight overhang while it rained and occupied our minds with dark thoughts of what lay in store for us. If only the sun would come out for a while and dry out the ledges! We waited and waited. Far down below we saw a pterodactyl squatting on a limb with its rain-drenched grey leathery wings half-furled, but it turned out to be Garth in his parka up a tree for a better view. We tried to carry on a shouted conversation with the tiny figures down in the trees, but with not much success. A brief flash of sunshine didn't do much towards drying out the rock face, and the sight of another gloomy rain cloud sweeping across decided us to make the attempt. So Snow yelled them a final message, "Rain and thunder, off we chunder!" and we braced up our minds aad our muscles for the ordeal ahead. Actually it was not so bad as our apprehension had painted it, and at last we were back to safety. We went down and joined the others and had lunch on the creek, and Snow and George that day gained a valuable bit of knowledge that will stand them in good stead when they go to New Zealand next Christmas, namely that bad weather can kill your chances of a successful climb.
+We crouched under a slight overhang while it rained and occupied our minds with dark thoughts of what lay in store for us. If only the sun would come out for a while and dry out the ledges! We waited and waited. Far down below we saw a pterodactyl squatting on a limb with its rain-drenched grey leathery wings half-furled, but it turned out to be Garth in his parka up a tree for a better view. We tried to carry on a shouted conversation with the tiny figures down in the trees, but with not much success. A brief flash of sunshine didn't do much towards drying out the rock face, and the sight of another gloomy rain cloud sweeping across decided us to make the attempt. So Snow yelled them a final message, "Rain and thunder, off we chunder!" and we braced up our minds and our muscles for the ordeal ahead. Actually it was not so bad as our apprehension had painted it, and at last we were back to safety. We went down and joined the others and had lunch on the creek, and Snow and George that day gained a valuable bit of knowledge that will stand them in good stead when they go to New Zealand next Christmas, namely that bad weather can kill your chances of a successful climb.
 As we headed back to camp up the ridge Snow and I started a wonderful argument which lasted most of the way over the top. Someone asked us had we noticed something further back, but no, all we had seen was a red haze before our eyes as we argued, if I remember rightly, what a saddle was and whether you could expect to find a creek flowing through it or over it or what not. Gee, life would be quiet without vocal lovable Snow. He actually likes to argue with unreasonable females. The Dalai Lama warned him this was a very dangerous admission to make.
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+===== The Worst Journey In The World. =====
+- Geof Wagg.
+I suppose to everyone there comes a moment when they feel that they've hit utter bedrock - that things just couldn't be worse and that any change from here is bound to be for the better. Me too. It happened one night at Coral Swamp, but that wasn't where it started.
+'Twas a week-end last July I think, and we were all set to make a do-or-die attempt on Davie's Canyon. "Morong Creek - Davies Canyon - Katoomba or bust, and who cares if we're a day overdue; it'll be good fun and worth it." Thus quoth Stitt and I agreed with him - up until Friday night, that is. But Friday night, about half an hour before I left work, a job bounced. That is to say, a set of plates involving umpteen thousand baked bean and spaghetti labels was returned by the printer as useless and it seemed to be my fault. The big post mortem was going to be held on Monday, and it occurred to me that if I didn't turn up on Monday it might be better if I didn't turn up again ever. As you might imagine, I was a bit disconcerted by all this, so when I met the others - Grace, Joan and Don Gower at Central I pitched them a sorry tale and they generously agreed to do the comparatively easy Paralizer trip instead.
+All went well until Katoomba when two scruffy individuals entered our hitherto peaceful compartment. Stitt and Garth, each looking like a second-hand clothes stall, had pursued the train all the way from Penrith on Garth's glorious machine, with the object of joining it here. Every time they crept ahead Stitt would get a cramp and roar and hammer on Garth's back until he stopped, and the train would zoom to the front once more. This went on until in the last stretch it was a neck and neck struggle and the bike chain broke, so they threw it in a heap into the Police Station and raced down to catch the train.
+The temperature at Morong Creek was icy and it was a long time before our toes were warm even inside superdown. Next morning, however, was quite a different matter; our sleeping bags were warm and snug while the outside air held the sting of frost and it was 8.30 before one of us had a will-power great enough to equalise this equation. Naturally we hadn't realised it was so late and the party rose to the occasion, excepting, of course, Stitt and Garth who always fortify themselves for such emergencies with an extra 15 minutes in the sack. Breakfast disappeared with more haste than digestion and we were on our way. I told you it was cold. Kanangra road supported a fine crop of ice crystals and our frozen water-bucket clumped behind us in rhythm with our stride. While Joan was quietly being sick behind a gum tree (treacherous stuff, Terry's Meal), Grace and I paddled our boots hopefully in a patch of watery sunlight and waited for the three boys to appear along the road.
+The area of scrub around Kanangra road is, I find, extremely non-committal and rather challenging, but you'd think I'd learn from experience. I suppose I may yet. Off into this scrub we charged, me leading and uttering my old cry of, "I've been here before!" always forgetting to add that it never seems to make any difference. We headed a small creek and climbed a low hump with me recognising practically every stick and stone, then through the trees we sighted an extremely likely looking ridge. Of course I recognised it immediately. That was the one we climbed last time and we had had to drop down into Thurat Creek and up again, so it was no good going up there. The party looked at the ridge and looked at me and gave me the benefit of the doubt. "The leader is always right," quoth Garth. "We must walk harder!"
+After following our insignificant little elevation for about two hours and heading several creeks we received another glimpse of something that looked like our first ridge, only by now much higher and difficult to climb. I'd stopped recognising things some time ago and was just a little worried so I rather agreed with the suggestion that we climb this just to be sure it wasn't the one we wanted, and even though it wasn't we might find out where we were.
+It eventuated that we'd been on the wrong side of Danai Brook, heading rapidly for Kanangra Deep. Also the thing we climbed wasn't the right ridge but it had been; now it was a spur leading 3 miles back to Thurat Trig., just one of the places where we should have been. After lunch by Danai Brook we went to Thurat Trig in spite of the sally scrub and arrived at 2.30 - about 5 1/2 hours late. There we picked up the road that chap carved to get his plane out and followed it to the sight of the prang, a small home-made clearing on the side of the ridge. By 4 o'clock we'd reached Paralizer but the sun was already resting on the rim of Guouogang and we'd a long way to go. As we cast around for the East Buttress I carefully subdued a strong inclination to recognise anything until the boys charged down what I felt convinced was the wrong ridge. They'd been somewhat ahead, and we could only tell which ridge they were on by the rapidly receding sounds of their progress below us. Callously leaving them to their fate I stumped stubbornly off along my ridge with Grace and Joan sagging in the rear, only to be confronted by Cloudmaker dead ahead. These mountains and ridges and things popping up where they shouldn't be had proved most disconcerting all day, and this seemed the final stroke. Feeling most ashamed I informed the girls that I was wrong again. So I sent them back on to the right track while I stopped a moment to collect my shattered self-esteem and take a photo of the evening shadow crawling rapidly up the opposite ridges. That made me feel slightly better so I closed the camera and started down the steep rocky slope. Hell, the blasted thing __was__ steep! After 100 ft. it was so steep I could scarcely stand upright and I had the horrible feeling that this was yet another wrong ridge. Better call the girls back - "Cooooee!" The reply came from my left, and I sidled round to find the girls sitting on a rock waiting for me. Of course I'd been charging down the side of the ridge!
+As we dropped lower the sky welled up with brilliance of sunset colours that faded slowly into dusk. The dusk grew dimmer and dimmer until, in the very last of the light, we located the side spur that leads to the Kanangra Creek - River Junction, and dropped over into night. When at last we were down we crossed the river and camped on the first bit of flat ground. Time 7.30 - but what a day!
+Next morning about 6 o'clock I peeped out at a dim grey world. The ground was white and bristled with frost, but it was no use waiting for the sun; tucked in here among the ridges we wouldn't see him for many hours. Noting that Joan was stirring I sprinted across and gave the boys a shout (it did no good), grabbed the billy and zoomed back inside the tent. Brrr! Do up the flap and get the primus going, quick! Soon the interior of the tent was much more tropical and Grace could be coaxed out of her sleeping bag. By 7 o'clock we were ready to move, and by a quarter past Stitt was, the odd fifteen minutes being spent by the party taking turns to stamp in the fire ashes - the only unfrozen spot.
+The frost extended white right to the very running edge of the river, and even the rocks were iced over, as I discovered while attempting to cross with dry feet and sat in it. After that I moved very rapidly, no longer worried about my feet which grew less sensitive with each successive crossing, until just before reaching the Cox I had to glance down now and again to see if I still had them. At Kanangaroo the ground was just as white, and where we trod on the sand along the bank the hoar frost crystals crunched under our feet and occasionally the frozen surface layer yielded to show a crisp footprint. The tardy sun was struggling to rise above Yellow Pup as we crossed the Cox, and as the shadowed bank offered no inducement to linger we kept right on until the first patch of reasonably strong sunlight, then changed our socks and kept right on again.
+About the top of Yellow Dog the old tootsies were beginning to feel more normal and things had definitely improved - even my pants were dried out. Still we followed the intricacies of the ridge, and while searching for the saddle to Dingo I led the party on interesting explorations of ferny grottos, as Joan will tell anyone who'll listen, but still we arrived at Kennel Flats punctually for lunch at 2 or 2.30. We found Debert's Knob an Effort, Tare's Ladder a Great Effort, and the climb out of Glen Rapheal Darned Near Impossible. Still walking, we observed with displeasure the sun setting for the second time in two days while we were still walking. Night, after stalking us for several miles, finally surrounded us just before that scrubby hump over which lies Coral Swamp - and that's where it happened!
+Grace and I were leading and I was in front. I thought I was on the track and Grace followed me. Then suddenly we were lost. But this was ridiculous; we couldn't be lost; we'll just have to retrace our steps. But no. No track! I tried casting about in various directions, calmly at first, but with increasing panic, but no, there wasn't a track; it had disappeared - vanished into the evil spreading gloom of night and the darkening sky. Gone! Mountains rearing up before us, ridges writhing beneath our feet, everything familiar but nothing to identify. I was lost - lost at Coral Swamp. Oh, the ignominy of it all. Me. Geof Wagg, conqueror of Cloudmaker, Paralizer twice, Guougang three times and all points west - lost at Coral Swamp! All at once the trouble at work, the week-end shambles of leadership, and finally this blow bore down upon me and as my head bowed I uttered a pitiful wail of despair. Stitt, who was coming along the track with the other two boys and Joan mistook this for a call and let out a piercing "Coo-ee!!". We walked towards the sound and joined the party - a distance of about 8 feet. At the swamp I drank most of Stitt's rum and glucose, so for me the rest of the trip was a sheer delight.
+(It all turned out that the trouble at work was somebody else's fault.)
+P.S. Just before this article went to press the news came through of yet another Paralizer trip, and after hearing the details of it I fear I can only claim mine as The __Second__ Worst Journey in the World!!
+----
+=== Congratulations Corner: ===
+To Ron Knightley and Dorothy (who was Dorothy Vincent, you remember) - a daughter.
+----
-THE WORST JOURNEY IN THE WORLD
-Goof Wagg.
-I suppose to everyone there comes a moment when they feel that they've hit utter bedrock - that things just couldn't be worse and that any change from here is bound to be for the better. IVIo too.
-It happened one night at Coral Swamp, but that wasn't where it started3
-'Twas a week-end last July I think, and we were all set to make
-a do-or-die attempt on Davie's Canyon. "Morong Creek-Davies CanyonKatoomba or bust, and who cares if we're a day overdue; it'll be good
-fun and worth it." Thus quoth Stitt and I agreed with him - up
-until Friday night, that is But Friday night, about half an hour before I left work, a job bounced. That is to say, a set of plates involving umpteen thousand baked bean and spaghetti labels was returned by the printer as useless and it seemed to be my fault. The big
-.
-post mortem was going to be held on Monday, pnd it occurred to me that if I didn't turn up on Monday it might be better if I didn't turn up again ever. As you might imagine, I was a bit disconcerted
-all this, so when I met the others - Grace, Joan and Don Gower at Central I pitched them a sorry tale and they generously agreed to do the comparatively easy Paralizer trip instead.
-.111 went well until Katoonba when two scruffy individuals entered our hitherto peaceful compartment. Stitt and Garth, each looking like a second-hand clothes stall, had pursued the train all the way from Penrith on Garth's glorious machine, with the object of joining it here. Every time they crept ahead Stitt would get a cramp and roar and hammer on Garth's back until he stopped,and the train would zoom to the front once more. This went on until in the last stretch it was a neck and neck struggle and the bike chain broke, so they threw it in a heap into the Police Station and raced down to catch the train.
-The temperature at Morong Creek was icy and it was a long time before our toes were warm even inside superdown. Next morning, however, was quite a different matter; our sleeping bags were warm and snug while the outside air held the sting of frost and it was 8.30 before one of us had a will-power great enough to equalise this equation. Naturally we hadn't realised it was so late and the party rose to the occasion, excepting, of course, Stitt and Garth who always fortify themselves for such emergencies with an extra 15 minutes in the sack. Breakfast disappeared with more haste than digestion and we were on our way. I told you :t was cold. Kanangra road supported a fine crop of ice crystals and our frozen water-bucket clumped behind us in rhythm with our stride. While Joan was quietly being sick
-behind a gum tree (treacherous stuff, Terry's Meal), Grace and I paddled our boots hopefully in a patch of watery sunlight and waited for the three boys to appear along the road.
-The area of scrub around Kanangra road is, I find, extremely noncommital and rather challenging, but you'd think I'd learn from experience. I suppose I may yet. Off into this scrub we charged, me leading and uttering my old cry of, "I've been here before!" always forgetting to add that it never seems to make any difference. We headed a small creek and climbed a low hump with me recognising practically every stick and stone, then through the trees we sighted an extremely likely looking ridge. Of course I recognised it immediately. That was the one we climbed last time and we had had to drop down into Thurat Creek and up again, so it was no good going up there. The party looked at the ridge and looked at me and gave me the benefit of the doubt. "The leader is alwas right," quoth Garth. "We must walk harder:"
-After followirg our insignificant little elevation for about two hours and heading several creeks we received another glimpse of something that looked like our first ridge, only by now much higher end difficulG to climb. I'd stopped recognising things some time ago and was just a little worried so I rather agreed with the suggestion that we climb this just to be sure it wasn't the one we wanted, and even though it wasn't we might find out where we were.
-It eventuated that we'd been on the wrong side of Danai Brook,
-heading rapidly for Kanangra Deep. Also the thing we climbed wasn't
-the right ridge but it ha been; now it was a spur leading 3 miles back to Thurat Trig., just one of the places where we should have
-been. After lunch by Danai Brook we went to Thurat Trig in spite of
-the sally scrub and arrived at 2.30 - about 5i hours late. There we picked up the road that chap carved to get his plane out end followed it to the sight of the prang, a small home-made clearing on
-the side of the ridge. By 4 o'clock we'd reached Paralizer but the sun was already resting on the rim of Guouogang and we'd a long way
-to go. we cast around for the East Buttress I carefully subdued
-a strong inclination to recognise anything until the boys charged down what I felt convinced was the wrong ridge. They'd been somewhat ahead, and we could only tell which ridge they were on by the rapidly
-receding sounds of their progress below us. Callously leaving them
-to their fate I stumped stubbornly off along my ridge with Grace and
-Joan sagging in the rear, only to be confronted by Cloudmaker dead
-ahead. These mountains and ridges and things popping up where they
-shouldn't be had proved most disconcerting all day, and this seemed
-the final stroke. Feeling most ashamed I informed the girls that I was wrong cgain. So I sent them back on to the right track while I
-stopped a moment to collect my shattered self-esteem and take of photo of the evening shadow crawling rapidly up the opposite ridges. That made me feel slightly better so I closed the camera and started down the steep rocky slope. Hell, the blasted thing was steep; After
-ft. it was so steep I could scarcely stand upright and I had the horrible feeling that this was yet another wrong ridge. Better call
-the girls back - "C000000J" The reply came from my left, and
-I sidled round to find the girls sitting on a rock waiting for me. Of course I'd been charging down the side of the ridgel
-s we dropped lower the sky welled up with brilliance of sunset'
-colours that faded slowly into dusk. The dusk grew dimmer end dimmer
-until, in the very last of the light, we located the side spur that leads to the Kanangra Creek-River Junction, and dropped over into
-night. When at last we were down we crossed the river and camped on the first bit of flat ground. Time 7.30 - but what a day!
-Next morning about 6 o'clock I peeped out at a dim grey world. The ground was white and bristled with frost, but it was no use wait-
-ing for the sun; tucked in here among the ridges we wouldn't see
-him for many hours. Noting that Joan was stirring I sprinted across and gave the boys a shout (it did no good), grabbed the billy and
-zoomed back inside the tent. Brrr,i, Do up the flap and get the prin=
-going, quick I Soon the interior of the tent was much more tropical and Grace could be coaxed out of her sleeping bag. By 7 o'clock we were ready to move, and by a cater past Stitt was, the odd fifteen
-minutes being spent by the party taking turns to stamp in the fire ashes - the only unfrozen spot.
-The frost extended white right to the very running edge of the
-river, and even the rocks were iced over, as I discovered while attempting to cross with dry reet and sat in it. After that I moved
-very rapidly, no longer worried about my feet which grew less sensitive with each successive crossing, until just before reaching the Cox I had to glance down now and again to see if I still had them. At
-.
-Kanangaroo the ground was just as white, and where we trod on the sand along the bank the hoar frost crystals crunched under our feet and occasionally the frozen surface layer yielded to show a crisp
-footprint. The tardy sun was struggling to rise above Yellow Pup as
-we crossed the Cox, and as the shadowed bank offered no inducement to linger we kept right on until the first patch of reasonably strong sunlight, then changed our socks end kept right on again.
-Z,bout the top of Yellow Dog the old tootsies were beginning to feel more normal and thins had definitely improved - even my pants were dried out. Still we followed the intricacies of the ridge, and while searching for the saddle to Dingo I led the party on interesting explLrations of ferny grottos, as Joan will tell anyone who'll listen, but still we arrived at Kennel Flats punctually for lunch at 2 or 2.30. We found Debert's Knob an Effort, Tare's Ladder a Great
-Effort, and the climb out of Glen Rapheal Darned Near Impossible. Still walking, we observed with displeasure the sun setting for the second time in two days while we were still walking. Night, after stalking us for several miles, finally surrounded us just before that scrubby hump over which lies Coral Swamp - and that's where it happened!
-Grace and I were leading and I was in front. I thought I was on the track and Grace followed me. Then suddenly we were lost. But this was ridiculous; we couldn't be lost; we'll just have to retraceour steps. But no. No tracks I tried casting about in various directions, calmly at first, but with increasing panic, but no, there wasn't a track; it had dis4peared - vanished into the evil spreading gloom of night and the darkening sky. Gone! Mountains rearing up before us, ridges writhing beneath our feet, everything familiar but nothing to identify. I was lost - lost at Coral Swamp. Oh, the ignominy of it all, Me, Geof Wagg, conqueror of Cloudmaker, Paralizer twice, Guougang three times and all points west - lost at Coral Swamps All at once the trouble at work, the week-end shambles of leadership, and finally this blow bore down upon me and as my head bowed I uttered a pitiful wail of despair. Stitt, who was coming along the track with the other two boys and Joan mistook this for a call and let out a piercing "Coo-ool!". We walked towards the
-sound and joined the party - a distance of about 8 feet. kt the swamp I drank most of Stitt's rum and glucose, so for me the rest of the trip was a sheer delight.
-(It all turned out that the trouble at work was somebody else's fault. )
-P.S. Just before this article went to press the news came through
-of yet another Paralizer trip, and after hearing the details of it I fear I can only claim mine as The Second Worst Journey
-CONGRATULLTIONS CORNER: To Ron Knightley and Dorothy (who was
-borothy_Vincent, you remember) - a daughter.
 "Why walk?" says Heather. "Own a Renault and push."
-in the WorldJ1
-GOSSIP
+----
-As we go to press we hear that Joan Walker and Bev Price are taking off for Alice Springs (and no doubt all points in the Centre) armed with rolls of Kodachrome and light-meters. ayer's Rock is in the itinerary. Another booking for the Social Programme, Heather:
-Incidentally, Joan plans to hop over to England next year.
+===== Gossip. =====
-A party, (names are 'mum") over Queen's Birthday week-end nearly had a night out in the Labyrinth when they left their standing camp at The Oaks for a day run out to Erskine Creek and back by a devious
-route. As Geof says: ' "The country can be rugged."
+As we go to press we hear that Joan Walker and Bev Price are taking off for Alice Springs (and no doubt all points in the Centre) armed with rolls of Kodachrome and light-meters. Ayer's Rock is in the itinerary. Another booking for the Social Programme, Heather! Incidentally, Joan plans to hop over to England next year.
-00
-Edna Garrad reports having lost her "Tudor" wrist watch in the
+----
-vicinity of Compagnoni's Pass. It is engraved "R.M.Garrad".
-40
+A party, (names are "mum") over Queen's Birthday week-end nearly had a night out in the Labyrinth when they left their standing camp at The Oaks for a day run out to Erskine Creek and back by a devious route. As Geof says: "The country can be rugged."
+----
+Edna Garrad reports having lost her "Tudor" wrist watch in the vicinity of Compagnoni's Pass. It is engraved "R.M.Garrad".
+----
 Harry and Marion Ellis, with Edna Garrad, recently went over Gangerang. What about showing us those slides, Harry?
-Remark passed during the Federatibn Council discussion on the decline in bushwalking' - The Decline and Fall of the Roaming
-Empire."
-EXTRACT FROM A T7TTER FROM JANE PUTT: Colin had a good trip over
-to England. He was not impressed by the way Rome was cluttered up
-with all sorts of queer machinr3s based on motor scooters and bikes.
-About the best was one mechanised wheelbarrow affair, full of bricks, and ridden by a nun in full habit Colin is now at Runcorn, near Liverpool. He has got in with the local Climbers' Club and was going climbing on? at? Tryfan last week=endo He's already been on a &ar trip round North Wales and circumnavigated Snowdon, etc. He was quite, impressed by Tryfan and Snowdon, and also by the roads which he says are beautifully tar-sealed, but only about 10 ft0 wide and very twisty with high stone walls each side. He's been to Winchester to
-see the Cathedral and also - don't faint - has got a camera and
-is taking colour photos. How are the mighty fallen
-MIRACLES  DEFT. - A NOTE  FROM YOUR EDITOR: On the day that contribu73=7nosed for the June abso1ute1I_E2thing, and
-was wondering how I was going to string the advertisements together with only our Monthly Meeting notes and Federation Report which had
-not yet arrived but which I knew I could expect. I raised a wail of despair (making sure that it was heard in the right quarters), but also embarked upon a long enough article myself to make people think they were getting their ninepence worth. Members responded to my wail and contributions poured in. I now have sufficient for two magazines, so in they go regardless. Thank you, everybody.
-WHATTS DOING AT PADDY'S?
-SAFETY UNDER FOOT: RUST-PROOF HOBS1
-From now on treble hobs from Paddy will be rust-resistant.
-No more holes burnt in boot soles through rust.
-Price: 5/6 per
-WELCOME WINTER WARMTH.
-Don't shiver. Get a flannelette sheet insert for your sleeping bag.
-Price: 28/6
-WHAT WOMEN WALKERS WANT IS BOOTS:
-Paddy has them from size 3.
-Prices: 57/6 and 61/6.
-Socks to match from 9"
-Paddy has got the small sizes made to satisfy the demands of the
-smaller-footed fraternity.
-Phone: BM2685
-PA AWN
-Lightuseight Camp Gear
-CA STLERfArali St SYDNEY
+----
+Remark passed during the Federation Council discussion on the decline in bushwalking - "The Decline and Fall of the Roaming Empire."
+----
+=== Extract from a letter from Jane Putt: ===
+Colin had a good trip over to England. He was not impressed by the way Rome was cluttered up with all sorts of queer machines based on motor scooters and bikes. About the best was one mechanised wheelbarrow affair, full of bricks, and ridden by a nun in full habit! Colin is now at Runcorn, near Liverpool. He has got in with the local Climbers' Club and was going climbing on? at? Tryfan last week-end. He's already been on a car trip round North Wales and circumnavigated Snowdon, etc. He was quite impressed by Tryfan and Snowdon, and also by the roads which he says are beautifully tar-sealed, but only about 10 ft. wide and very twisty with high stone walls each side. He's been to Winchester to see the Cathedral and also - don't faint - has got a camera and is taking colour photos. How are the mighty fallen!
+----
+=== Miracles Dept. - A note from your Editor: ===
+On the day that contributions closed for the June issue I had received __abso1utely nothing__, and was wondering how I was going to string the advertisements together with only our Monthly Meeting notes and Federation Report which had not yet arrived but which I knew I could expect. I raised a wail of despair (making sure that it was heard in the right quarters), but also embarked upon a long enough article myself to make people think they were getting their ninepence worth. Members responded to my wail and contributions poured in. I now have sufficient for two magazines, so in they go regardless. Thank you, everybody.
+----
+===== Paddy Made. =====
+=== What's doing at Paddy's? ===
+__Safety under foot__! Rust-proof hobs! From now on treble hobs from Paddy will be rust-resistant. No more holes burnt in boot soles through rust. Price: 5/6 per lb.
+__Welcome winter warmth__. Don't shiver. Get a flannelette sheet insert for your sleeping bag. Price: 28/6.
+What women walkers want is __boots__! Paddy has them from size 3. Prices: 57/6 and 61/6.
+Socks to match... from 9".
+Paddy has got the small sizes made to satisfy the demands of the smaller-footed fraternity.
+Paddy Pallin. Lightweight Camp Gear.
+Phone: BM2685. 201 Castlereagh St., Sydney.
+----