OUR CAPE YORK ADVENTURES

My Darling husband likes to talk
And dream of a re-visit to a place called Cape York.
It’s been 20 years since his last visit there
But just how can he take his bike plus a spare?

Plans were laid and phone calls were made, ‘D’ Day was getting nearer.
What to take and what to leave, the answer was not getting clearer.
“Just One bag each” I heard,….(I think)
But someone we knew brought the darned kitchen sink.

So on a plane to Weipa I flew,
To catch up with Hart and his travel weary crew.
A week away and adventures they’d had,
Greg had a big get off, but wasn’t too bad.

A suspected fracture, sore shoulder and knee.
A smile on his face and, “Someone pushed me”
They bandaged him up, they bandaged the bike,
The bike and the boy looked so much alike.

Now what can we say about Hugh for a lark,
I’ve heard that at home he’s a very bright spark.
With olive oil on his boots he’s the top of the food chain
The croc that gets him will have nothing but pain.

Now Kev is a man who really loves the bush.
He just takes his time, there’s no need to rush.
This man I would say is a Dreamtime Believer,
A real Aussie gent and a quiet achiever.

Now what about Greg we must give him a verse,
He’s married to Pip (for better or worse)
Consensus last night was Pip should get a medal
For no-one has seen Greg with pedal to metal.

 

Andrew on Greg’s bike likes to be at the front.
I don’t think the Kwaka has got enough grunt,
I think Andrew may have his eye on the Dakar
And that would be the end of Andrew Macca.

Now if you’re looking for Dave, just seek out his wheels.
He’s happy to clean it and nearly miss meals,
His pride and his joy gets no deprivation,
Not he, but his bike gets colonic irrigation.

Al’s like an animal he looks like a Teddy Bear.
He rides, sometimes like a tortoise and sometimes like a hare.
His waterproof boots shed water and keep his feet dry,
But you should hear the squelch when the tide is high.

Pete is a farmer, quite familiar with silage,
On the trip to the Cape he’s got the best mileage.
With the blue B M wound up to the max,
Pete’s happy like a pig-in-mud and just making tracks.

Our supplies are on hand as Nigel is our gofer,
He then swaps his cap and turns in to chauffer.
In the morning he’s first up – a real early riser,
With a beer in his hand -  “Just an appetizer”.

Now here’s a tribute to our four wheel friend,
Without who’s help we’d be right round the bend.
As my head hit the floor and my feet touch the ceiling,
All I can think of is “Oh what a feeling”.

On our trip to Cape York tip
There’s been lots of signs that say “DIP”,
Some quite inventive ones so far,
My favourite one is “DIPity DO Dah”

 

We must have a verse about the roads,
The ones that re-distribute our loads,
The one’s that fool us in to thinking
We’ve spent all day in the pub…..drinking.

On the way to Ravenshoe,
The wind and rain began to blow,
Hart turned heat on his handlegrips
And gave all the other boys the……..pips.

Here’s a tale it’s sad but true,
It starts with one and ends at 262.
The owner dreamed of going far,
He shouldn’t have bought a Yamaha.

I’m a Pajero, a very proud car,
But on this trip they put this  thing on my tow bar,
I showed ‘em, I pulled it and bounced it and shook it around,
I broke off its wheel and ran it to ground.

Hart thinks a verse about dust and sand would be good.
Said, “It’s best to avoid if you possibly could”
One BIG hole, he discovered, 3 pigs a horse and a mountain climber,
So the only sand he wants to see now is in an EGG TIMER.

Now we’re all back home, the trip’s in the past,
We had so much fun, we knew it could last.
We’ve conquered the Cape, we had a great time
And now it’s goodbye,  Adieu,  Adios, it’s the end of my rhyme.