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Rees Valley: September 16, 2023

Report/poem by Johnny Stevenson



Restless night’s sleep but Saturday 16th the Annual Day trip up the Rees Valley was finally here.

9 vehicles and 24 people quite a collection, certainly a group to be aware. (or group to fear?)

Would everyone be on the right channel, follow the rules and have fun.

Or we’re all destined to end up splitting into 9 groups of one


At the Trading Post Café 9.30 am we were to meet

However for the Hilux the allure of FairlIE Pies at Mrs Woolies was hard to beat.

At 9.32 at Mrs Woolies there wasn’t a snorkel to be seen,

Could it be the whole Club had all arrived and been.


The Club rules dictate last to arrive writes the trip report.

I was in GY just simply at the wrong Café !!!! now you have to endure this poem it’s a f___g wrought

The Jeep, Landrover, Colorado and Pajero, they revved and they roared, tackling shingle banks, they were quite overboard.


In their off-road pursuit, they hit a snag, stuck on a shingle bank, it was quite the drag.

With winches and cables, they battled the mire, Mud and stones flying higher and higher.

After hours of toil, they finally broke free, Cheers and relief echoed through the valley.

Now, let's talk about lunch, oh, what a delight, Rib eye and pork belly sandwiches, just right.

They feasted on these in the bush clearing, fueled up and ready but it was the Landrover killers they were fearing.

Amidst the great banter, a puzzling debate, the number plate MPB1, what was its true state?

Just random design? Or was it secret code

They pondered its meaning, perhaps Mystical Porn Pawn Broker, could be this new potential members mode.


Although the going was not particularly vertical Jude’s Jeep seems determined to boil enough water to allow a rather large tea pot to steep

Belle, the rookie, with courage ablaze,

Took on her first recovery, to everyone's praise.

With steady hands and a heart full of grace, she pulled that Antons stuck rig from its treacherous place.


As the day wore on, they explored, they laughed, Through forests and rivers, their spirits unchaffed.

In the Rees Valley, they found their own way, Bonds forged in adventure, memories to stay.

The sun dipped low in the sky,

Painting the valley in hues that mystify.

The four-wheel drive club, they turned for home, with stories to tell and a long way to roam.

Back to the car park where the trip first began, the end of the trip ritual of Airing up could be witnessed first hand

So, dear reader, in Otago’s grandeur so vast, this four-wheel drive club retired to debrief at the GY Pub at last.

Through challenges faced and mysteries untied, In the Rees Valley, they reveled with pride.


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