Last Night I had a dream.
I was over nighting in the Kellys hut high on Kellys range before dropping into the Taipo Valley the next day. Darkness had fallen, and snow flurries were falling. I became a little alarmed as in the hut was a pack and sleeping bag and on the table was a half pack of 303 rounds. Taking what small amount of firewood that was left in the hut, I climbed to the top of the peak, my carbide lamp was but a feeble beacon. I soon had a robust fire going. Like a signal fire in days gone by. Just as my meager supply of wood was about to depart. I heard a shout in the distance, "Hold the Light" . On went the last few scraps of wood. Out of the darkness he came, snow covered, a 303 fully wooded rifle slung over his shoulder. A sugar bag pack on his back. Damm he said, "Thanks for the Light" even if I can't light a smoke in these hellish conditions. I over judged my wanderings just a tad. And I was surely in for a cold night. Guess we are gunna be in for one in the hut as you just burnt all the firewood. Frig I thought, I save his life and now he's moaning about the lack of firewood. Who is this guy.
So back to the hut we go, alas the stove has just about gone out. Never fear my visitor says, I have a stash close by. The Forest Service and I have a little agreement, one load of wood for the hut and one for me. And soon he returns with ample wood and holly bloody hell, some coal,
Coal on Kellys Range, frig me unbelievable, he must have a really good deal going with the Forest Service, me thinks.
Get a brew on young fella he says. I'm dying for a good cup of tea, and then has this big chuckle. And then he takes off his swanni, his sugar bag, leans his 303 against the table, and says two sugars thanks. My god I save his life and now he wants his tea with two bloody sugars. Just who is this guy. Soon the billy is boiling, so I plonk his much awaited cup of tea down in front of him, with his two bloody sugars. My very small sugar ration has just diminished somewhat.
Right he says, time to swap names, I'm Barry. And Im Trev I reply. Are we gunna do surnames, he asks. Well I guess we had better I reply as we may be snowed in for a few days. I'm Trevor Alty, bit of a queer name he says, but a bit like mine I'm Crump.
Oh frig, holly bloody hell I cry, " Your Dead". "There was a rumour going around about that he replies. But here I ductions are am alive and well. And enjoying your cuppa, but you didn't quite get the sugar quite right. You don't happen to have any grog up here do you. No bloody way Barry, where at 4500 feet, I don't lug grog that high, neither do I he says, so we have a dry hut. Yep I tnink only because you have a secret stash of coal and wood.
Well Crumpet I say, what brings you here, smack, he had that 303 in his hands in seconds, and gives me a hearty smack on the side of the head with the butt. " I don't like being called " Crumpet" grasshopper he says. Oh well that was lesson number one. No more crumpets for me, I guess. Shit I said that hurt, Mr Crump, he replied, " It hurt me more than it did you. There is a lesson there.
head
Ok I thought one last try. Ok Crumbles, want another cuppa. Wham, down I go again. Yep two sugars and get it right this time. Frig and double frig. I just gotta start getting this right. So one last try, ok Mr Crump what brings you here, wham wack down I go again. Those ole 303 butts are made of hardwood, I can testify to that.
Sometimes introductions are a tad hard but this is the worst one I have ever had to endure. Not one but three fully wooded head butts.
Ok Barry, Im Trev. Bout time he said, reached into his sugar bag and fetched out two lovely hind back steaks. Guess you are the cook tonight. I wasn't arguing at that, Im not about to receive number four.
So on went a venison stew, spuds, and carrots. Wish I had have taken up red peppers and green peppers and crushed pepper corns. Lucky me that would have been blow four. But at last we are getting on like good ole mates, and I am awaiting with baited breath for Barry to call me " A Good Keen Man".
After our hearty meal we sit back. Barry lets a mighty burp go and then this tremendous fart. Damm I was impressed. Shit those were beauty's Barry. Yep he said, that's how I call in the stags in the roar. Damm I am impressed. So give him another helping of stew and one for myself so I can learn the technique.
So now its hut time. Another brew. By this time Barry has got me breaking the tea bags, oh these new fangled things are beyond me he reckons.
Okay have you read my books, he asks. Yep every bloody one I reply. Which ones did you like the best, Well Barry a few were crap, but I really liked " A Good Keen Man" and "Gold and Greenstone". Why do you say Crap, well Barry when you write from your heart and take people into your world, those are good books. When your publisher wants you to write more. Then you have to make things up. Thats why a " A Good Keen Man" was your best ever book. It was real it was you.
Why are you here Barry. " I want you to write a book. I don't want to. You have too. Don't want too. Why. I'm scared. What of. Failure I guess. And the time it will take. I did "A Good Keen Man" in a month. Frig it will take me about 12. Hows your head, bloody sore Barry, thanks to you. Whats that thing in the corner. Why Barry thats a Minelab SD2300 Military specifications. Frig Trev whats the blast radius. Na Barry its a gold Detector, it finds gold. Bloody hell Trev, how does it do that. To complicated for you Barry. I agree. When you drop down into the Taipo, go here. Give me a pencil and a bit of dunny paper. As you used the last of the paper here to light your big bonfire on the peak which I didn't really need, but was sure glad to see.
Right lets get some shut eye, I get the bottom bunk, you the top. And no farting. We dont want any stags hanging around. Goodnight Alltea and no sugar, ok Crumpet. I'll let you off with that one alltea, see ya in the morning. And when we get back to the Otira Pub its your shout. OK.
I awoke in the morning. He was gone. Not a sign. Oh well travelling another ridge, I thought. One of these days his Forest Service supplied 303 ammo is gunna run out. But knowing him he reloads, somehow.
I trudged back down the track, the next day. And then the few miles to Otira, where I was getting the Vulcan Railcar back to Greymouth.
But I had a two hour wait until the ChCh to Greymouth Railcar arrived. So off to the Pub I went.
Gidday said the Publican, what will you have. Two 12 ounce beers please, I replied. Two he said, but there is only you. One for my mate and one for me, I replied. But there is only you he said. Rest assured I said my mate will turn up. Bang down went my first one, never touched the sides.
And then started looking at the old photo's on the wall. Turned around and frig me (my first frig me of the day) the other glass was empty.
Fill them up again sir, it seems I have company. The publican just kinda looked at me as if I was a bit strange. Well Barry and I got through six 12 oz beers before I left for the railway station. But on his last, while I was in the dunny, I came back. An empty glass. But there on the bar counter next to my glass, was a 303 shell case with a bit of paper sticking out of it. And not dunny paper. It read. " Write the Book Grasshopper" and yep you are "A Good Keen Man"
A Tribute to Barry Crump.
Thanks Metal Kiwi. And I think Barry thanks you too.
Cheers Trev aka " The Hatter"
WWW
BLOG
