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Tararua Ranges - No Boots at All - A Fast Pair of Skis - No More Double-Bunking
The Marathon Song - On the Slopes of Mt Alpha - The Terror of the Teraneek

In The Tararua Ranges

This was adapted, probably by Tony Nolan, from a a parody which NZ soldiers, especially those in Coastal Command, sang during World War II. It had been derived from the Salvation Army song Away with Rum.
Music, chords and chorus of Tararua Ranges. 7Kb

  1. If you stand on Lampton Quay
    On Friday night then you will see
    Through rain and snow the trampers go
    To the Tararua Ranges

    Away, away, with billy and pack
    Lolloping down the mountain track
    We'll all get lost and never come back
    In the Tararua Ranges

  2. Hear them holler and hear them call
    as up the Marchant Ridge they crawl
    And all they see is nothing at all
    In the Tararua Ranges

  3. Their leader's getting old and grey
    They say he's 65 today
    He reached that age by staying away
    From the Tararua Ranges

  4. The chief guide's got so old and blind
    He broke his neck, but they don't mind
    He said the girls were all behind
    In the Tararua Ranges

    So if you're under 93
    And find your life a misery
    You'd better come along with me
    To the Tararua Ranges

James Robertson has contributed this verse which his mother remembers. Thanks James.
We had a feast up in the hut
A dirty plate, a greasy cup
It's time the women tidied up
In the Tararua Ranges

And Kristin Stokes' dad taught her these two verses he used to sing when he was a member of the Wellington Tramping and Mountaineering Club back in the 1960s and 70s. Thanks Kristin.
The treasurer went out on the bash
and drank up all the petty cash
and now he's got some rocks to smash
in the Tararua Ranges

The secretary can't read or write
s/he eats all day and drinks all night
and if s/he could s/he'd ride a bike
in the Tararua Ranges
This song is modified from the Salvation Army's Temperance Union song.
Away, away with rum by gum,
With rum by gum, with rum by gum!
Away, away with rum by gum!
The song of the Temperance Union!

MIDI of Tararua tune

The Ballad Writers' Toolbox

Just Adapt the Words
...the Tararua Ranges, or the Hokonui Ranges, or the roads of Rakiuru -or wherever.

Just adapt the words to your location and to the peculiarities of your companions, as Tony Nolan has done here, and as Sam Sampson has done to make his Billy the Bus variant of this song.

The Tararua Ranges on Record

Bush Singalong LP,   Les Cleveland and Tony Nolan,   Kiwi Pacific LC-11

I have this tramping LP with many other tramping songs on it on it, Good Keen Man, We're a 1000 Feet Too High etc. I'll transcribe more lyrics one day. E-mail me if you want them or any other 1950s NZ tramping song. (John A)


Tararua Ranges - No Boots at All - A Fast Pair of Skis - No More Double-Bunking
The Marathon Song - On the Slopes of Mt Alpha - The Terror of the Teraneek

No Boots At All

Probably another song by ex-RNZAF Tony Nolan, who was writing songs in this style in the post-war 1940s. Its tune and strucure is based on the 1860s American burlesque song No B---s at All, which was, in turn, based on the satirical 1857 poem, Nothing to Wear.
And yet, though scarce three months have passed since the day
This merchandise went, on twelve carts, up Broadway,
This same Miss M'Flimsey, of Madison Square,
The last time we met, was in utter despair,
            Because she had nothing whatever to wear!

Way down in the land of the Antipod-it-es
Where the lights of the camp-fires shine bright on the trees,
The bushmen will tell you as night shadows fall
There's a ghost roams the ranges with no boots at all.
No boots, no boots at all,
Roaming the ranges with no boots at all!
Way down in the city both dirty and dark,
Lived a handsome young fellow, named Anthony Clark,
He wanted to be a big bold mountaineer,
But his mother would say as she tossed down her beer:

But Anthony murmured "Regardless press on",
When they woke the next morning, they found he was gone
And back from the hills came an agonised shout:
"I've no boots at all but I'm going without!"

He found a big mountain and climbed to the top
And stood on the edge of a terrible drop,
And over and over came his mother's sweet call,
"You can't roam the ranges with no boots at all."

The King of the Mountain looked down from his throne
And saw the young mountaineer standing alone.
He said to his angel "Go down with a swoosh
Go down to that fellow and give him a push".

The Angel of Destiny swooped through the pass,
And planted her boot on the seat of his pants.
As over and over and over rolledl he
The angels were singing that sweet melody:

St Peter came out with his customary cheer,
Said, "Sorry, young fellow, you can't come in here,
With thousands of angels to answer my call,
You'd be no good in heaven with no boots at all".

daylight was fading, the hour was so late,
When at last he arrived at the Satanic Gate,
The little black devils spat in his face
And said, "That's to show it's a helluva place!"

The Devil said "Sorry, I can't let you in
Unless you've been leading a lifetime of sin.
But how can you wallow, and how can you fall?
When you're roaming the ranges with no boots at all!"

Let this be a lesson to all those who roam,
Far better to stay with your mothers at home.
With no boots, no boots at all
Roaming the ranges with no boots at all.








MIDI of No Boots tune

This next variant was collected off a 2003 "Backcounty" discussion group archive webpage.
It was possibly contributed by the late Hugh Grierson, a NZ skier.
Way down in the land of the Antipodes
Where the lights of the camp-fires shine bright on the trees
Bushmen will tell you as night shadows fall
There's a ghost roams the ranges with no boots at all.
No boots, no boots at all,
Roaming the ranges with no boots at all!
Way down in the city so sinful and bad,
There lived a young fellow, a promising lad
He wanted to be a big bold mountaineer,
But his mother replied as she tossed down her beer:

Our hero, he murmured "Regardless press on",
When she woke in the morning, she found he was gone
And off to the hills went her agonised shout:
"You've got no boots at all if you want to bail out!"

He found a big mountain and climbed to the top
And stood on the edge of that horrible drop,
He thought of his mother all over again,
He could still hear her shouting that mournful refrain:

The god of the mountain looked down from his throne
And saw the young climber astanding alone.
He said to his angel "Go down with a swoosh
And give that young fellow a helluva push".


The Angel of Destiny swept through the pass,
And planted a foot fair and square on his pants.
As over and over and over fell he
The angels were singing this sweet melody:

St Peter, he stood at the heavenly gate,
Checking in drunks coming early and late.
The Orderly Angel just dropped in to say,
"There's a dirty big climber a-coming this way."

St Peter came down with a bucket of beer,
Saying, "Sorry, young fellow, you can't come in here.....
With thousands of angels to answer your call,
You'd be no good in heaven with no boots at all".

The night it was stormy, the hour it was late,
When our hero arrived at the Satanic Gate,
The little black devils, they spat in his face
To show you, they said, it's a helluva place!

The devil said "Sorry, I can't let you in
Unless you've been leading a lifetime of sin.
But how could you wallow, and how could you fall?
You can't be a sinner with no boots at all!"

Now all you young fellows who some day may roam,
Be careful to stay with your mother at home.
With no one to love him or answer his call,
His ghost roams the ranges with no boots at all.

A Good Keen Man

Barry Crump worked for many years as a government deer-culler in areas of New Zealand native forest. In 1960 he collected his experiences in his first novel A Good Keen Man , which became one of the most popular in New Zealand history, and this song is based on his book.


Early in the morning me missus sez to me
Get down to the bureau and earn some L.s.d.
So being a man of action I got aboard a tram
And went down to the office of the forestry man

Hoopin' round the wop-wops having lots'a fun
Chasing all the red deer with m'sheath knife and m'gun
I never like to work and I dodge it when I can
But I'm out to show the boss that I'm a good keen man

Early in the morning I'm sloggng up the track
Working like a bullock under half a ton of pack
With mud up to me eyebrows, wet as a flamin' shag
Can't find a dry spot to put me sleeping bag

Rolling through the supplejack never see the sun
Lost me blinkin' sheath knfe and lost me blooming gun
Smell like a polecat, eat when I can
I'm just a silly Joe to be a good keen man.

So back to the city just as quick as I can run
Watch it sez my wife, you've had your bit of fun
The house needs a paint and the lawn needs a mow
Get out you lazy blighter, just as quick as you can go.

So it's out of the house and I got aboard a tram
n' I asked the boss if he could use a good keen man
Chasing all the red deer, living like a king
No, a man doesn't know when he's on a good thing
No, a man doesn't know when he's on a good thing


Tararua Ranges - No Boots at All - A Fast Pair of Skis - No More Double-Bunking
The Marathon Song - On the Slopes of Mt Alpha - The Terror of the Teraneek

A Fast Pair Of Skis

In the 1930s, Vic student Harold Gretton put these words to tune of Vilkins and his Diana for members of the Victoria University College Tramping Club. At the time, there was a controversy raging over the pronunciation of the word "ski" - was it "Skeee" or "Sheee"? So to put the humour across, "ski" is pronounced "she" here.

I love to go tramping around Dawson Falls
The climate's superb and the scenery enthralls
There's punga and mamaku and Fuschia trees
It's a swell place to go with a fast pair of skis.

[Chorus] When it's cold and you freeze
You can always keep warm with a fast pair of skis.

Along comes [Joe Offer] with a drip on his nose
And what has he brought with him do you suppose?
Some pineapple chunks and a half pound of cheese
A dozen pork sausages and a fast pair of skis.

And here comes [Catspaw] that promising lad
It's clear he's been up to some mischief the cad;
He's covered in snow from his ears to his knees
For he got tangled up with a fast pair of skis.

King David lay dying and couldn't get warm
They brought a fair virgin to take him by storm
Said David "To hell with prescriptions like these
Tell the eunuchs to bring me a fast pair of skis."

    This last verse issung as a dirge
Alas and alack even trampers grow old.
With mountains too lofty and virgins too cold
But while we can totter we'll puff and we'll wheeze
Up the old hill for the old thrill - a fast pair of skis.


In a Mudcat forum, "Uke" remembers his/her parents still singing this in the 1970s.

Dawson Falls is on the south side of Mt Egmont/Taranaki, and was the nearest place for young people to Wellington to go "she-ing." Pungas and Mamaku are tree ferns. Fuchias are NZ tree fuchias, a favourite meal of the introduced oppossum pests, and thus these trees are now rather rare.

MIDI of Vilkins tune
(but sing this parody a bit faster)

Tararua Ranges - No Boots at All - A Fast Pair of Skis - No More Double-Bunking
The Marathon Song - On the Slopes of Mt Alpha - The Terror of the Teraneek

No More Double Bunking

Harold Gretton put these words to tune of The More We Get Together in the 1930s when large tramping parties started taking shelter in small huts with only four or six bunks, and trampers had to top-and-tail on each mattress.

Sam Sampson recalls "The Orongorongo Ranges are close to Wellington (NZ) and were the ideal place for an introduction to tramping (hiking). The "Five Mile" Track (actually three from memory) took you in to the Orongorongo Valley, where there were three public, and a number of private huts (cabins). Most were basic, slab wall, corrugated iron roof and fireplace and a dirt floor. Most huts slept from 6 to 12. Bunks were basic, either sagging sacking or wire netting. When you tried cramming 20+ people in, "double-bunking" (ie sleeping top to tail) was not comfortable. Some had a "Maori Bunk", a two level platform, where you could always "squeeze in one more". Ahhh the memories.
"

I heard this sad song-oh
In the Orongorongo:
"There'll be no more double-bunking, double-bunking for me."
I said to the vocalist,
"Oh, why do you so insist,
'There'll be no more double-bunking, double-bunking for me'?"
There'll be no more double-bunking,
Double-bunking, double-bunking.
No more double-bunking, double-bunking for me.
He said, "I've had a gutsful
Of tramps where the hut's full.
There'll be no more double-bunking, double-bunking for me.
I've weakened and lost weight.
I'm nervously prostrate.
There'll be no more double-bunking, double-bunking for me."

My tongue's covered with fur too,
And I can't eat my burgoo.
There'll be no more double-bunking, double-bunking for me
I'm washed out like a dish rag,
And, I've ruptured my sleeping bag.
There'll be no more double-bunking, double-bunking for me.

This is sung to the tune of
The more we get together
Together, together
The more we get together
The happier we'll be

For your friends are my friends
And my friends are your friends
The more we get together
The happier we'll be.
MIDI of Get Together tune


The Marathon Song

Sung to tune of Beautiful, beautiful Brown-eyes, which was on the Hit Parade in 1951.
My putties are back at Waeranga
My nails in the river below
I'm splattered with mud from the 5 mile
And my legs are refusing to go
Beautiful, beautiful bye-byes
Beautiful, beautiful bye-byes
Take me home to my mattress
I'll never go running again
I curse all the gorse on the Baker
As I stumble and roll down the slope
I'll be picking out prickles for months now
And I'll think to myself what a dope

How I dream of the biscuits and honey
And the fruit I would relish with glee
But the first thing I get on arrival
Is a sugarless cold cup of tea

In tramping and marathon races
It looks like I never will star
The most strenuous exercise next year
Will be lifting my glass from a bar
.

MIDI of Marathon tune

On The Slopes Of Mt Alpha

sung to the tune of Isle Of Capri, a Hit Parade song in 1954.

This song, and the next, are apparently about an actual woman, a sexually aggressive solitary tramper who had male trampers in the Orongaronga and Tararua ranges running scared.
T'was on the slopes of Mt Alpha I first met her
'Neath the shade of a leatherwood tree
She had a razor-sharp slasher beside her
She said "Come down the Coyne Ridge with me."

She had a figure just like Cleopatra
Edelweiss adorning her hair
So I thought of the Club's reputation
And just left her languishing there.
Summertime was nearly over
Tararua mists were around
I said "Lady I'm a tramper
And it's for Kaitoki that I am bound."
T'was on the slopes of Mt Alpha I first met her
'Neath the shade of a leatherwood tree
She had a razor-sharp slasher beside her
She said "Come down the Coyne Ridge with me."

MIDI of Mt Alpha tune (but sing this more slowly!)

The Terror Of The Teraneek

sung to the tune of ???
She's the Terror of the Tauherenikau
As tough as she can be
You make love
with the stars above
And she makes sure with a 303.
You can climb the highest mountain
Or climb the highest peak
You can run all day
But you'll never get away
From the Terror Of The Teraneek
I once met a man who had wooed her
A honeymoon they had spent
He came back
with both eyes black
And his nose was slightly bent.

He said "I've fought in the Battle of Hastings
And I've fought at Custer's Creek
But I have never had a fight
Like I had that night
With the Terror Of The Terraneek."

Come out, come out!

A club which appeared at Victoria University College of Wellington after the 1914-1918 war was the Tramping Club, in which women from its inception took part and enjoyed freedom from supervision, apart from the benevolent chaperonage of Professor Boyd Wilson. Women in the Tramping Club seem to have aroused divergent feelings. John Beaglehole wrote a ballad in Spike in 1923 with the verse "And praise We now the Tramping Girl... bright she trims the cheerful evening fire." But in 1924, in a letter to the magazine 'Viator' described the last line of the verse as "Absolutc typical Rot! Who ever heard of a girl messing around with the fire at all? They sit on a good dry log and eat, and that's about the extent of their participation in the festivities."

Elsie Beaglehole (Holmes) has a clear recollection of the which women did while on these tramps. "Cooking porridge in a billy on an open fire for breakfast and cleaning up the burned bits afterwards are not easily forgotten. Women tramped in gym slips, taking a change of blouses with them, or wore baggy shorts. One woman turned up for a tramp to Wainuiomata with an umbrella� but that was decidedly unorthodox."
Come out, come out! ye trampers all, and take the open road,�
Oh, leave your must and inside dust, throw off your daily load��
Take up, take up, your friendly swag and foot the way with me,�
The way that lies beneath the skies and borders on the sea.

The student's road is tough and hard (sing cheerily and loud!)�
Until he joins the Tramping Men (O brethren, be not proud!)�
The singing, swinging Tramping Men, who march the miles away,�
Who swing their packs upon their backs, and fill the fleeting day.

And praise We now the Tramping Girl, the fairest of the fair��
Her smile is free, frank eyes has she, the wind blows in her hair,�
She treads the highway, climbs the heights, no day-long journeys tire�
Her tireless limbs; and bright she trims the cheerful evening fire.

Come out, come out! the high hills call, the country stretches wide,�
The world shall be our breathing-space, the rushing wind our guide��
The partner of our way shall be the rippling roadside stream,�
And when we sleep the stars shall keep good watch and fill our dream.

Then follow where the white road runs beyond the distant hill,�
Oh, follow where the rata burns, the tui whistles shrill,�
Oh, follow up the wandering clouds that beckon from on high,�
The winds that sing immortal songs across the open sky!

 

Printable songsheet

All the songs on this webpage are on this two-page MS Word document.
Download it and print some songsheets off for your next tramping trip.
                       NZ_TRAMPING_LYRICS.doc  

 

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Tararua Ranges was published on the web on October 2nd, 2000,
Additional songs added on Jan 9th, 2005