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195709 [2016/05/04 03:45]
kennettj [Report of the Ski Lodge Committee]
195709 [2016/05/04 04:03] (current)
kennettj [Climbing Expedition - Pigeon House, The Castle, Tallatarang]
Line 137: Line 137:
 By Malcolm, Digby, Geof and Dot. By Malcolm, Digby, Geof and Dot.
  
-Strange things happened to this trip before ever it left the Club room, To begin with it was down on the programme as an official walk, but this fell through at the last minute owing to prohibitive transport costs, so the official leader ​tool, her party to Katoomba. But, like a phoenix rising from the ashes, a new party emerged - a party of considerable magnitude as it took the Puttmobile and four private cars to transport them all to Drury'​s farm. To Druryts, did I say? No. That is not quite right. Snow managed to take a wrong turning in the dark and finished up on the edge ofa precipice ​some- +Strange things happened to this trip before ever it left the Club room, To begin with it was down on the programme as an official walk, but this fell through at the last minute owing to prohibitive transport costs, so the official leader ​took her party to Katoomba. But, like a phoenix rising from the ashes, a new party emerged - a party of considerable magnitude as it took the Puttmobile and four private cars to transport them all to Drury'​s farm. To Drury'​s, did I say? No. That is not quite right. Snow managed to take a wrong turning in the dark and finished up on the edge of a precipice ​somewhere ​or other - for the whole weekend he was never quite sure just where it was and pointed us out two or three different plateaux on the edge of which his car was reputed to be roosting. However, sufficient to the day is the evil thereof, and when Snow and Henry eventually met up with us after taking a bee-line across the landscape he told us he didn't plan to give another thought to where his car might be until it was time to find it on the last day. George also, unintentionally or otherwise (probably otherwise if I know George) took an unknown road which landed him up practically within coo-ee of the camp spot it took the rest of us most of Saturday to reach. It didn'​t ​,take us long to get settled in, and when the Saturday night meal had been put in its proper ​place, plans were made for Sunday. Who better able to tell of this pleasant camp scene than the old fox, McGregor. (Over to you Malcolm.) 
-where or other - for the whole weekend he was never quite sure just + 
-where it was and pointed us out two or three different plateaux on the edge of which his car was reputed to be roosting. However, sufficient to the day is the evil thereof, and when Snow and Henry eventually met up with us after taking a bee-line across the landscape he told us he +The main aim of the trip into this area was to climb Tallatarang from the Clyde River side; Last Easter John Manning had seen a spot which he thought would go, so he was appointed leader. The party was kept small to give it every chance of success. The five to accompany John were Dot and Grace, Geoff, Mike Elphick and the Dalai Lama. Why put Dalai Lama in? You might ask. It was suggested that prayers might be needed and who better than Dun Kahn for that job? 
-didn't plan to give another thought to where his car might be until it was time to find it on the last day. George also, unintentionally or + 
-otherwise (probably otherwise if I know George) took an unknown road +Now the Castle Party - we would try the Eastern cliff faces from Byangee Gap - just to make it hard, and ten bods with Putto as leader decided to give it a go. Digby was one who said he'd be in it as he sat by the fire chewing his bit of dessert ironbark. ​White anted before we started, still - 
-which landed him up practically within coo-ee of the campspot ​it took the rest of us most of Saturday to reach. It didntt ​,take us long to get settled in, and when the Saturday night meal had been put in its proper ​pla:ce, plans were made for Sunday. Who better able to tell of +"Now to give us plenty of time" said Colin, "​we'​ll all pile out at a.m.". 
-this' ​pleasant camp scene than the old fox, McGregor. (Over to you + 
-Malcolm.) +"​Righto"​ says Digby "​5.a.m. we'll all hop - eh", his ironbark branch twig dropped from nerveless fingers. His jaws bit on air -- "​5 ​o'​clock ! no sane man would think of ----" "​That'​s O.K." ​says Colin "you aren't sane." 
-The main aim of the trip into this area was to climb Tallatarang from the Clyde River side; Last Easter John Manning had seen a spot which he thought would go, so he was appointed leader. The party was kept small to give it every chance of success. The five to accompany John were Dot and Grace, Geoff, Mike Elphick and the Dalai Lama. Why put Dalai Lama ih? You might ask. It was suggested that prayers might be needed and who better than Dun Kahn for that job? + 
-Now the Castle Party - we would try the Eastern cliff faces from Byangee Gap - just to make it hard, and ten bods with Putto as leader decided to give it a go. Digby was one who said he'd be in it as he sat by the fire chewing his bit of dessert ironbark. ​Whiteanted ​before we started, still - +So it was settled, Colin was appointed alarm clock for 5.a.m. Grace was to get Geoffo moving, Heather was listed to start George going, ​Digby to take the Dalai Lana his breakfast in bed; Dot would probably wake up anyway and old Male, was in the same tent as Colin so he had no excuse. As for the others, they were young enough not to notice the early rising. 
-"Now to give us plenty of time" said Colin, "​we'​ll all pile out at Z.a.m."​. + 
-"​Righto"​ says Digby "​5.a.m. we'll all hop - eh", his ironbark branch twig dropped from nerveless fingers. His jaws bit on air -- +About ten the goodnight brew was brewed and shortly after the camp settled down. The fires dimmed and Jack Frost spread his icy fingers over the flats. 3 a.m. - a lone figure crept from a tent and threw a log on a fire - it disappeared - again all was quiet. 
-"​5 ​otclock11 ​no sane man would think of ----" "​That'​s O.K." ​swys Colin "you aren't sane."​ + 
-So it was settled, Colin was appointed alarm clock for 5.a.m. Grace was to get Geoffo moving, Heather was listed to start George going, ​Di.gby ​to take the Dalai Lana his breakfast in bed; Dot would probably wake up anyway and old Male, was in the same tent as Colin +Five to five -- "Get up you lazy loafers"​ roared Colin'​s voice. What willpower!, what fortitude! He stamped ​around the tents and bellowed in at each making sufficient noise to waken the Dalai Lama. Groans followed in his wake; again he gave his call; the young'​uns ​tumbled out; a shrill squeal announced Grace'​s ejection from her cozy bag, Digby rose grumbling from his quarters, Heather and George appeared like 
-6. +wraiths, only old Male stayed in his bag. This cunning old so and so had pitched his tent right by his fire, by now blazing happily due to Colin'​s ​effort. 
-so he had no excuse. As for the others, they were young enough not to notice the early rising. + 
-About ten the goodnight brew was brewed and shortly after the camp q. settled down. The fires dimmed and Jack Frost spread his icy fingers over the flats. 3 a.m. - a lone figure crept from a tent and threw a log on a fire - it disappeared - again all was quiet. ​a +"Put my billy on please"​ he says. Someone placed a billy on the fire. Digby is too benumbed by this early rising to say or do anything - yet - and the Dalai Lama is clamouring for his breakfast. "Why are we up now?" says Heather vaguely, "I don't know" says Grace. "Where are we going?"​ Snow chimes in. "To the hills" roars Colin. 
-Five to five -- + 
-"Get up you lazy loafers"​ roared Colin'​s voice. What willpower!, what fortitude! He atamped ​around the tents and bellowed in at each making sufficient noise to waken the Dalai Lama. Groans followed in +"Take my billy off its boiling"​ says Male.\, still in his sleeping bag. Colin glares at him, "​Aren'​t you up yet" he says. "​No",​ says Male. 
-his wake; again he gave his call; the youngtuns ​tumbled out; a shrill squeal announced Grace'​s ejection from her cozy bag, Digby rose grumbling from his quarters, Heather and George appeared like + 
-wraiths, only old Male stayed in his bag. This cunning old so and so +"Hey, Digby",​ Colin calls and Dig. trots up; "call yourself a white ant look at this bloke"​. Digby goes green with envy. "The old --- he murmers. 
-had pitched his tent right by his fire, by now blazing happily due to Colints ​effort. + 
-"Put my billy on please"​ he says. Someone placed a billy on the fire. Digby is too benumbed by this early rising to say or do anything - yet - and the Dalai Lama is clamouring for his breakfast. +Bushwalkers at 5.a.m. on a mid-winter morning are a strange lot. I don't know how to describe them. The moans and groans, the -- Oh! I wish I had a tape recorder. The comments were priceless. 
-"Why are we up now?" says Heather vaguely, "I don't know"​says + 
-Grace. "Where are we going?"​ Snow chimes in. "To the hills" roars Colin. +The clock ticked on and food of one sort and another was consumed, All of the two parties were moving except one - the old -- was still in his bag. Six o'​clock and still only 15 bods were mobile, Digby was speechless by this time at being up while another was down. 
-"Take my billy off its boiling"​ says Male., still in his sleeping bag. Colin glares at him, "​Aren'​t you up yet" he says. "​No",​ says Male. + 
-"Hey, Digby",​ Colin calls and Dig. trots up; "call yourself a whiteant ​look at this bloke"​. Digby goes green with envy. "The old --- he nurmers+"Get up !" he cried "​Why?"​ said Male. Colin raced around and restored order. 
-Bushwalkers at 5.a.m. on a mid-winter morning are a strange lot. + 
-I don't know how to describe them. The moans and groans, the -- Ohl +Breakfast was nearly finished and at 6.30 came the call. "​Moving off in 5 minutes."​ Now think of what has happened. Fifteen ​Bushwalkers ​are up, fed and dressed ready to go, and one fed ready to go - to sleep - not - the whips are cracking and old Male slides from his bag at last. There they are, sixteen bods in mid-winter, ready to leave camp at 6.30 a.m. Not bad, eh! At twenty to seven the remaining 
-I wish I had a tape recorder. The comments were priceless. +7 sleepers had the camp to themselves: The parties ​were away on time. 
-The clock ticked on and food of one sort and another was consumed, + 
-All of the two parties were moving except one - the old -- was still  in his bag. +(Now perhaps you would like o hear from Mr. Rigby how the Castle party fared) ​ The Very Early Morning Kookaburras rubbed their sleepy unbelieving eyes and looked again. In the first wan light of day ten hazy half- conscious figures sleepwalked across the meadow, their frozen feet crunching into the firm white frost which lay like a giant sheet, spread over tho slumbering river flats. This was incredible! Bush- walkers afoot at this ungodly hour and in this temperatureAfter the initial shock was over, no normal strain of Kooka could be expected to restrain itself. A whole bunch of rascals combined in a torrent of rollicking raucous laughter, which had, we felt, a fair share of nasty derision mixed up with it. Such was the beginning of the day the S.B.W.0 Castle Climbing Contingent, set off to do battle with that famous landmark. 
-Six o'​clock and still only 15 bods were mobile, Digby was speechless by this time at being up while another was down. + 
-"Get up 1" he cried +When the light had brightened up a trifle, the shadowy figures could no longer hide their true identities. Out in front and egging ​us on as per usual, loped the Putt Machine, brandishing a spanking new 
-"​Why?"​ said Male. Colin raced around and restored order. +red and blue nylon climbing rope. Malcolm and Heather started skipping along together in some sort of Mad Goblin'​s Dance, allegedly designed for a quick thaw-out. But the rest of us, still a la comatose, would not be bustled and so Alan Abbott, George, Bookie, Jack Perry, ​Henry Gold, Snow and Digby ambled along in silent single file. A little way further and the Castle Climbers passed a Y.M. Ramblers'​ Camp where nary a soul had bestired himself from the warmth of the icicled tents. Oh, how the pangs of White Antism, sleeping-bag variety, suddenly swept through our party like a plague. Miracle of miracles, we pressed on with barely a hesitating step - perhaps it was the fiery light in the ferocious eyes of the Putt Machine which won the day. And so up Yadboro Ck, we went our way and shortly Colin led off up the ridge which would land us at the Castle - Byangee Walls Saddle. 
-Breakfast was nearly finished and at 6,30 came the call. + 
-"​Moving off in 5 minutes."​ +The plan was to climb the Castle from the eastern side, where a "​possible"​ route was alleged to exist a little way back along the Castle walls behind the saddle. The sun had by now sailed up into cloudless, windless vault of blue - it was a morn made specially for bushwalkers - and as we warmed up all over to a tingle, we began to savour the real anticipation of the unknown adventure ahead
-Now think of what has happened. Fifteen ​Dushwalkers ​are up, fed and dressed ready to go, and one fed ready to go - to sleep - + 
-Not - the whips are cracking and old Malc, slides from his bag at last. There they are, sixteen bods in mid-winter, ready to leave camp at 6.30 a.m. Not bad, eh! At twenty to seven the remaining +At 0900 hours we stood in the saddle and surveyed the sandstone cliffs towering above us - well, it certainly wouldn'​t "​go"​ just there, not for us, anyway. So on we pushed along the base of the walls until we found the first promising chink in the Castle'​s armour, a broad gully in which some good climbing rock sloped upwards at a respectable angle. So great was our enthusiasm we were soon all over it like a rash. After the first pitch, ideal for loosening up lazy muscles, the angle became steeper and it was time to bring out the rope for a spot of belaying. Up went the bods, one by one, cautiously feeling their way in steady climbs, until it was the turn of that really outstanding mountaineer,​ Mr. John Ants-in-the-Pants ​Bookluck. And what a fantastic performance he put on, Bookie fairly tore up that pitch as though the very Devil were at his heels, arms and legs ing in all directions at once, footholds and handholds being used and abused in extra-rapid succession. The proverbial rat in the drainpipe would be considered a tired old slowcoach compared with our hero - one could only bring to mind those movies which are speeded up to 
-7sleepers had the camp to themselves: The parties ​gore away on time. +such an extent as to provoke uncontrollable laughter in the observer - for such indeed was the effect. Of course there is a rumour that certain persons at the top of the rope helped the show along, to say the least, but this was certainly not apparent from below. And so ended the brightest piece of comedy of the whole weekend. 
-(Now perhaps you would like o hear from Mr. Rigby how the Castle party fared) ​ + 
-The Very Early Morning Kookaburras rubbed their sleepy unbelieving eyes and looked again. In the first wan light of day ten hazy half- conscious figures sleepwalked across the meadow, their frozen feet crunching into the firm white frost which lay like a giant sheet, spread over tho slumbering river flats. This was incredible! Bush- walkers afoot at this ungodly hour and in this temperatureAfter the initial shock was over, no normal strain of Kooka could be expected to restrain itself. A whole bunch of rascals combined in a torrent of rollicking raucous laughter, which had, we felt, a fair share of nasty derision mixed up with it. Such was the beginning of the day the S.D.W.0 Castle Climbing Contingent, set off to do battle with that famous landmark. +After this episode a wee bit of exploration was called for as the next step of the mountain loomed ominously and awkwardly above. Several routes which might go were investigated by Alan, Jack and Digby but were wisely rejected in favour of the "​recognised"​ way just then discovered by Colin further round the face. Hob marks and a cut sapling leaning into a weak gully formation pointed the way. The party having negotiated this obstacle (with some more frantic antics by Bookie), the rest of the climbing route was obvious - there were no alternatives whichever way you looked at it. Several interesting pitches of moderate severity, a pleasant mixture of chimneying scrambling and straight face climbing, with just the right amount of challenge, finally brought us to the top of the first big sandstone step of the mountain. The final step still remained. So far it had been good clean fun in the warm sunshine, despite a few cold shivers down several spines. 
-When the light had brightened up a trifle, the shadowy figures could no longer hide their true identities. Out tn front and eging us on as per usual, loped the Putt Machine, brandishing a spanking new + 
-red and blue nylon climbing rope. Malcolm and Heather started skipping along together in some sort of Mad Goblin'​s Dance,, allegedly designed for a quick thaw-out. But the rest of us, still a la comatose, would not be bustled and so Alan Abbott, George, Bookie, Jack Perry, ​Heiry Gold, Snow and Digby ambled along in silent single file. A little way further and the Castle Climbers passed a Y.M. Ramblers'​ Camp where nary a soul had bestired himself from the warmth of the icicled tents. Oh, how the pangs of White Antism, sleeping-bag variety, suddenly swept through our party like a plague. Miracle of miracles, we pressed on with barely a hesitating step - perhaps it was the fiery light in the ferocious eyes of the Putt Machine which won the dayi And so up Yadboro Ck, we went our way and shortly Colin led off up the ridge which would land us at the Castle - Byangee Walls Saddle. +Malcolm had enjoyed the leading most of the time, but First Prize for the best laissez-faire attitude to the whole adventure must go to Snow. During the waits he would stretch out on a sunny ledge without a care in the world and dream the dreams that only Snow can dream. Only when his turn finally came to climb a pitch would he give the slightest attention to the mountain. Perhaps this is the best attitude after all if one can cultivate that sort of mountaineering temperament. 
-The plan was to 'climb the Castle from the eastern side, where a "​possible"​ route was allegedto exist a little way back along the Castle-walls behind the saddle. The sun had by now sailed up into cloudless, windless vault of blue - it was a morn made specially for bushwalkers - and as we warmed up all over to a tingle, we began to savour the real anticipation of the unknown adventure ahead ---- + 
-At 0900 hours we stood in the saddle and surveyed the sandstone +The old Enemy had by this mooched along to about 1300 hours - and with ten bods using the one rope this was not surprising. Lunchtime - and what better place for lunch than beside a tiny stream running across this wide forested ledge, with a glorious ​180 panorama ​of that rugged and beautiful landscape to feast the eyes upon. Our gaze wandered down onto the Byangee plateau, now well below us, then across to Pidgeon House and finally to the Pacific on the horizon. And from there the eye came slowly back to the Clyde Valley way down in the blue depths on our left and then shot up the cliffs of Tallatarang on the other side, and we wondered how our comrades were '​facing in their new adventure over there. 
-cliffs towering above us - well, it certainlywouldn'​t "​go"​ just there, not for us, anyway. So on we pushed along the base of the walls until we found the first promising chink in the Castle'​s armour, a broad + 
-gully in which some good climbing rock sloped upwards at a respectable angle. So great was our enthusiasm we were soon all over it like a rash. After the first pitch, ideal for loosening up lazy muscles, +A human shout from the summit of the Castle brought us back to the near-at-hand and we wondered how this could be until we remembered the other walking parties in the area - they had apparently come up by the "​accepted"​ route on the other side. We should be on our way, but one glance at our watches was quite sufficient to convince us that we must skirt along our ledge to the beginning of the Castle "​tail"​ and reach the summit by the orthodox route; the final step would be saved up for another day, that was for sure. At length this plan was achieved, and as we climbed to the top of the fantastic ​tailwe ran into a Y.H.A. party on their way down; the odd places you meet up with bushwalkers. ​It was a surprise to recognise familiar faces - some of us had encountered them before in all the last outposts of walking realms, even in far-off Tasmania: After a quick sojourn on the top, in which several of the very active ones made a hasty trip to the Byangee end, our party started down again at the rather latish time of 1500 hours. We would not want to dawdle but now we would descend by the usual west-side route, through that remarkable squeeze-hole passage which tunnels right through the tail, and then on down through the cursed sapling forest with its scratchy undergrowth and the torn and twisted creek courses with their obstropolis boulder beds. Cries of "Never again - give me rock-climbing any day" could be heard from front to rear, even from those who can't really make up their minds about climbing and its risks. 
-the angle became steeper and it was time to bring out the rope for a + 
-spot of belaying. Up went the bods, one by one, cautiously feeling their way in steady climbs, until it was the turn of that really +Finally, as the last light of day flickered and went completely out, we thankfully set foot once again in the more friendly ​Yadbora ​Creek and of course there were the usual false and frustrating leads. After crossing the Creek for the umpteenth time (we can't feel our toes any more), Colin called a halt to collect the bods together in the inky blackness. "​Number off", says Colin, but even after two attempts we can't get past nine. Whose voice was absent? Where was the missing link? Missing link? Ah, yes, it must be Bookie. "Where are you, Bookie?"​ we chant. For a moment the bush was silent. Then from the direction of the creek the chill night air was split asunder by an oathful, wrathful shout  "How the blinkin'​ blazes did you so-and-so'​s get out of this b--- hole?" Well, of course, not one of us had seen hide nor hair of a "​hole",​ let alone one which would accomodate a whole body. 
-outstanding mountaineer,​ Mr. John Ants-in-the-Pants ​Dookluck. And what a fantastic performance he put on, Bookie fairly tore up that + 
-pitch as though the very Devil were at his heels, arms and legs +Poor Bookie - the gods were agin him again. We went back and. rescued him and then hit it for home and never did the warm fires and tents of our camp look more like home to us. Their glow seemed to match an inner glow deep inside us, the glow of success, the glow from a day of happy fulfilment and from a job well done. It was time to have a laugh at the Kookaburras. 
-ing in all directions at once, footholds and handholds being used and + 
-8. +(And speaking of kookaburras takes us back-again to the early hours of this same day, because we have yet to hear how the Tallatarans party fared. Next month we'll drop our fishing line into thee deep pool of Geoffo'​s mind and see what treasures we bring forth).
-abused in extra-rapid succession. The proverbial rat in the drainpipe would be considered a tired old slowcoach compared with our hero - one could only bring to mind those movies which are speeded up to +
-such an extent as to provoke uncontrollable laughter in the observer - +
-for such indeed was the effect. Of course there is a rumour that certain persons at the top of the rope helped the show along, to say the least, but this was certainly not apparent from below. And so +
-ended the brightest piece of comedy of the whole weekend. +
-After this episode a wee bit of exploration was called for as the next step of the mountain loomed ominously and awkwardly above. Several routes which might go were investigated by Alan, Jack and Digby but were wisely rejected in favour of the "​recognised"​ way just then discovered by Colin further round the face. Hob marks and a cut sapling leaning into a weak gully formation pointed the way. +
-The party having negotiated this obstacle (with some more frantic antics by Bookie), the rest of the climbing route was obvious - there were no alternatives whichever way you looked at it. Several interesting pitches of moderate severity, a pleasant mixture of chimneying scrambling and straight face climbing, with just the right amount of challenge, finally brought us to the top of the first big sandstone step of the mountain. The final step still remained. So far it had been good clean fun in the warm sunshine, despite a few cold shivers down several spines. +
-Malcolm had enjoyed the leading most of the time., but First Prize for the best laissez-faire attitude to the whole adventure must go to Snow. During the waits he would stretch out on a sunny ledge without a care in the world and dream the dreams that only Snow can dream. Only when his turn finally came to climb a pitch would he give the slightest attention to the mountain. Perhaps this is the best attitude after all if one can cultivate that sort of mountaineering temperament. +
-The old Enemy had by this mooched along to about 1300 hours - and with ten bods using the one rope this was not surprising. Lunchtime - and what better place for lunch than beside a tiny stream running across this wide forested ledge, with a glorious ​180panorama ​of that +
-rugged and beautiful landscape to feast the eyes upon. Our gaze wandered down onto the Byangee plateau, now well below us, then across to +
-Pidgeon House and finally to the Pacific on the horizon. And from +
-there the eye came slowly back to the Clyde Valley way down in the blue depths on our left and then shot up the cliffs of Tallatarang on the other side, and we wondered how our comrades were '​facing in their new adventure over there. +
-A human shout from the summit of the Castle brought us back to the near-at-hand and we wondered how this could be until we remembered the other walking parties in the area - they had apparently come up by the "​accepted"​ route on the other side. We should be on our way, but one glance at our watches was quite sufficient to convince us that we must skirt along our ledge to the beginning of the Castle "​tail"​ and reach the summit by the orthodox route; the final step would be saved up for another day, that was for sure. At length this plan was achieved, and +
-9. +
-as we climbed to the top of the fantastic ​tp-ailwp ran into a Y.H.A. party on their way down; the odd places you meet up with bushwaikerst ​It was a surprise to recognise familiar faces - some of us had encountered them before in all the last outposts of walking realms, even in far-off Tasmania: After a quick sojourn on the top, in which several of the very active ones made a hasty trip to the Byangee end, our party started down again at the rather latish time of 1500 hours. We would not want to dawdle but now we would descend by the usual west- side route, through that remarkable squeeze-hole passage which tunnels right through the tail, and then on down through the cursed sapling forest with its scratchy undergrowth and the torn and twisted +
-creek courses with their obstropolis boulder beds. Cries of "Never +
-again - give me rock-climbing any day" could be heard from front to rear, even from those who can't really make up their minds about climbing and its risks. +
-Finally, as the last light of day flickered and went completely +
-out, we thankfully set foot once again in the more friendly ​Yadbor'​s +
-Creek and of course there were the usual false and frustrating leads. After crossing the Creek for the umpteenth time (we can't feel our +
-toes any more), Colin called a halt to collect the bods together in the inky blackness. "​Number off", says Colin, but even after two attempts we can't get past nine. Whose voice was absent? Where was the missing +
-link? Missing link? Ah, yes, it must be Bookie. "Where are you, Bookie?"​ we chant. For a moment the bush was silent. Then from the direction of the creek the chill night air was split asunder by an +
-oathful, wrathful shout  ​ +
-"How the blinkin'​ blazes did you so-and-so'​s get out of this +
-b--- hole?" Well, of course, not one of us had seen hide nor hair of a "​hole",​ let alone one which would accomodate a whole body. +
-Poor Bookie - the gods were agin'him again. We went back and. rescued him and then hit it for home. - and 'never did the warm fires +
-and tents of our camp look more like home to us. Their glow seemed +
-to match an inner glow deep inside us, the glow of success, the +
-glow from a day of happy fulfilment and from a job well done. It was +
-time to have a laugh at.the Kookaburras. +
-(And speaking of kookaburras takes us back-again to the early +
-hours of this same day, because we have yet to hear how the Tallatarans party fared. Next month we'll drop our fishing line into thee deep  pool of Geoffo'​s mind and see what treasures we bring forth)+
-COLOUR PHOTOGRAPHERS --- PLEASE NOTE  +
-FOR SALE. +
-Beaded-glass screen material, 48" x48", in excellent +
-condition. Going cheaply. +
-If you're interested, please see -- +
-Frank Rigby, 'Phone MU 4411 (Business) +
-10.+
  
 ====== White Ant Borings ====== ====== White Ant Borings ======
195709.txt · Last modified: 2016/05/04 04:03 by kennettj