HOW I SPENT MY CHRISTMAS HOLIDAYS.

Otago Witness, Issue 2663, 29 March 1905, Page 73

HOW I SPENT MY CHRISTMAS HOLIDAYS.

Dear Dot, — Now for a narration of how I spent my last Christmas holidays, which I must say I enjoyed thoroughly, despite all tho drawbacks. I have been asked over and over again the reason I do so much night travelling when touring. Last Easter when I went up I travelled the greater part of two nights, and this time I travelled light through ons night. Well, this explanation might clear up the mystery. Like most other young fellows, I am not blessed with a superabundance of holidays, and it behoves us to make the most of the few that we do get. Were I not to travel by night, it would take me the •greater part of. two days to get there, and that taken off a short holiday leaves a lot to be desired. Again, travelling on a summer's day in Otago Central is not by any means a pleasant pastime for a city chum, who is not used to the heat, whereas the nights are cool, sometimes very cold, and that is a great incentive to travelling then, although the speed during the night ia rather less than during the day. With that explanation, I shall proooecl.

The touring rage comes on me periodically, especially when any holidays loom in the distance, and for the two or three months preceding Christmas, I had made up my mind to reach Alexandra, or fail in the attempt. To tell j'ou the truth, I worried little about the latter contingency. I left Dunedin this time at about half-past 7 on Friday evening, December 23, and with a small swag slung over my shoulder I started on my journey. I passed Areta. and Florodora, on my run through tc-wn, both going to enjoy themselves fcr the evening, — at least, fo I judged by the Witness smile tfhey both showered on me. Further and further I rode, over Lookout Point, through G-,reen Island, and up to the top of Saddle HiU road, which I reached at 8.15 p.m. Here I rested for about 10 minutes, contemplating t&e little township of Mosgiel lying 1 glimmering but a short distance below. I filled my gas lsmp with water at the trough, — I may add that the lamp«was a borrowed one, — and thus fortified, I proceeded slowly on my journey. Henley I reached at 9.30. Riding onward, I came across a welllighted schoolhouse in -which there was evidently a dance, and judging by the number of bareheaded people about the door of the hall I purmised that wallflowers -were not confined within city limits. I felt strongly inclined to join the festive assembly, but "that spirit of laziness " within me preven^d me. Waihola I reached at about 10 o'clock, and I spent a. good ten minutes musing on the banks of that beautiful lake. I saw the mountains aM arotmd ; indeed, the whole country looked but a mass of ranges, and I wondered how many I would have to cross. Behind me wa3 home ; in front roads I hatl never seen-be-fore. Can one blame me if my thoughts at that moment turned on. what was in front of me on this unknown journey? According to the calendar, and to all calculations, the moon was supposed to be a full one, but very few glimpses of it did I get. The sky was bestrewn with fleecy-looking clouds, and darkness reigned supreme. It was 11 o'clock when I turned the light of my lamp on to soma shops, and found I wa9 in Milton. I rested tor a few minutes at this place. The road to Lawrence branches off from Clarksville, a couple of miles past Milton. I had be*n directed to watch where the telegraph line branches off from the main line, but in spite of my vigilance, I failed to discover the road in the darkness. I rode on for nearly half an hour down the Main South road, intending to ask the first householder where I was. T began to feel a bit uneasy, I can assure you. T made a det-oitr round to the first house I cßjne to with the object of inquiring my road; but the inmats? were where perhaps I one-lit to have besn — in the Land of Nod. Not a sound broke the stillness of evening. Just fi| I was pbout to give up in despair, T heard the welcome sottnfl of steps, and in a few rnrrratrs there appeared on the sceflfc a solitary horseman leading another horse. He kindly conducted me back over the road I had traversed and directed trie to the branch rood, an-l greatlj relieved now, I rode forward full s#ee&

ahead. It was midnight when I rested my wear} hea<' on my swag at the rear of the Glenora railway station. After a refreshing snooze, J again ploughed my vay through the darkness. Massing Momit Stuart, and nciuig through Manuka Gorge, at 2.*0 a.m. I rodo thy nigh wnat appam-ed to bo a fair's large township. All around «as a seething blackness, save where two large lamps suspeiKiad on a bridge cast their shadows before. I lifted my bike over the planks — I did nol sco tue patn a\oid.mg the obstruction. "When T get to the b:ow of the hill, iselmg a wee bit sitepy, I loy down by the roadsida and was soon last a^le-cp. I woke up in a hurry, some dream or other st-artled me, and leaping on my stead, set out again, as I thought, in the direction of Lawrerce. Alas, for my expectations. How httle I imagined I was but retracing my steps. Once again 1 passed through that township — 1 now ascertained that it was AVaitahuna — al 3.30 a.m. It was ju3t then getting light enough for me to see around a few yards. A^fiiii I crossed o.ver the bridge, and than it somehow dawned upon me that I .had met that bridge somewhere bofore in my natural life. But determined to make surs, I kept on till 1 came to Gordon, the r.ext station on this side, and I then discovered that I was trying to get hack to Dunedin. I woke up a farmer, and he confiimed my leprs and set me on the right track again. Had I been able to ses the moon, I would have known at once that I was going wrong ; but as I said before, Diana was not anxious to show her lace. And so the inevitable happened. However, it was not long till I reached Forsyth station, and I kne-w that I was than but a few miles from Lawrence. Ac was to be expected, I was as hungry as a hawk and very thirsty, but aa I had not had the foresight to make provision for these failings I v.'as forced to stave off the hunger. However, water was by no means scarce, and seeing the schooihouse near, I turned in there to sco if I could get a good drmk of water. Impelled by curiosity, I looked in the window, and beheld a good dishful of appetising sandwiches in an anteroom. My word, didn't I try windows and doors ; but no hope. I even looked underneath the doorstep to see if the caretaker had merely hidden Ihe key; but no such luck. However, a full bucket of milk heavy with cream lay hidden beside the tank. You may imagine the longins for water was '"off," -while thai ior cream and milk was on. The cream very soon disappeared, as also did half the milk, and much, refreshed I lay down on the grass and breathed in the fresh morning air. With renewed energy, I again plodded on my lonely ride, reaching Lawrence art half-past 5 ante meridiem.

I remained no longer in liawrence than enabled me to get the directions for the road. farther on. A little past Lawrence I lay down, by the roadside and rested my weary limbs. A little further on was a dredge. It was busy cutting away into the bank in its search for the precious metal. One of the hands very kindly invited me on board, and going on deck by way of the lowered drawbridge, I was much interested in the machinery and working. After half an hour's rest there, I thought it time to push forward, so after wishing the compliments of -the season to tbe two hands who were working, I pushed my bike towards Unniseld. Up as far as Lawrence the roads had been just superb — one could reel off mile after mile for the pure enioyment of the pastime, but past Lawrence — weli, the le=s said about them the better, v perhpps. To force one's bike through a fewinches of sand and dust, to sink up to the p.xies of the wheels at times in a drift, is no easy task, especially for one who has been kcctistomed to better things. All arcund are high hills, and tho road seems to lose itself in one of them. But no, when you arrive at the turning you find it ruas along an other valley, and takes another abrupt turning. And. so on jmi go, along a very heavy road, till, crossing the roaring Molyneux, you land in Dtmkeld, a small settlement on the banks cS thi river. I reached that place as 8 a.m., and after having breakfpst at the hotel, I took a good hour's rest. Again I set oS, pushing my bike up the hill towards Ettrick. Up the. hills and. down the otlisr side ; along a flat stretch of country, and I reached Rae's Junction. Tbe roads got a little better, but as if to compensate for that, I had to "push my barrow" against a head wind. I reckon I di<3 not pnt up a score in .mileage that run. Still, white I had the head wind I was -thankful it \ras not a fair wind, which I sometimes had to endure. The clouds of du=t raised up after the bike are left far behind you with a> head wind, but with a fair wind they travel along with you, blinding and choking v.herever you turn.

Passing Miller's Yla.t, I reached Ettrick an 11.40 a.m. I rested here for aboxit a- quarter of an horn-, and then pushed on to Roxburgh, so as to be in time for dinner. I was fortunate enough to arrive within a few minutes of 1 p.m., and a hescrty meal I made at one of the hotels there. Talk about strawberries and cream here! Nothing could satisfy my appetite for that dainty/ up there. I had pdmired the fine well-laid-oufc orchard 1 ; in the Teviot district which I was passing through, but coming face to foee with the products of these orchards seemed like s<vuee to m^at It was almost 2 o'clock when, leaving Roxburgh, behind me, I set out to cover the last 25 rnils<? of my journey. Por a, while after leaving Roxburgh there is a stretch of lerel country, bub ere half an hour has passed a steep .iscenfc in reached. The day wa<» scorching ho*-, hko it can be at times up Otago Central, and, ■weary and footsore, I plodded up that range. The perspiration was coniir>« off ms in streams while, pushing mv bike, I looked in vain for the top of the hill. Soon I caught up on a fellow-traveller who had come from Gore, and together we wearily ascended the hill, wheeling our bikes before us : together we sat down in the shade oi the manukas, ar,d vainly trieds to fan ourselves; together we dip-oed in the stream ; together we anxiously awaited the top of the hill. We got there, but we had the melancholy satisfaction of paitins company. He declared that ihp heat was killing him, and so he determined to stay at a, junction publichouse till the shades of night were likely to fall. So we separated, and I was left to tread the wincuress alone. The rocic" laads up and down gullies, over iminniprabl< rush ing mountain torrents; over roads cut oui of the side of the mountain; up slight hills and down dales; past Shingle Creek and Speargrass Plat; at last a steep descent, full speed across the Manuherikia bridge, and once more I set wheel in Alexandra, my destination, at 7 p.m.

The fates took pi*v on me evidently, for both. Christrups Day and Boxing Day were superbly fine. The sun was scorching hot, and the warm sunshine induced me to walk about tfca town to have a look round. There are some fine-looking buildings in the township — afc least fine in comparison with those you meet in most country townships. There are some varied sty'ps of architecture in the houses oa tbe eut.'.kirta of the town. So'i'e are of woou, some of stone, some of "brick, fomo of iron, while others ?re composed of tr\o or more ofthese materials. Most of them have a minuiture' sliowerbath playing over the garden. I" went for a spin \w the Manulfrikia toad, pastf the Recreation Grounds, shaded, with numbers of trees, pa=t the J.imViiig olil bievrerv,, fttid onwircl for a couple of ir.i'eq. I _vas ir- j teadiug to have a dip in the Manuierikia th:^

time, but the moment I bathed my feet in its sandy, muddy waters, I discovered how icy cold it could be in spite of the blazing sun. The recreation grounds at Alexandra seem to be thoroughly comprehensive — crickec, football, tennis — all can be played within its boundaries, and certainly the ground is large enough to hold any number of players. Fine large trees grow all round the enclosure. I also took a trip into the Chinese quarter of the town, a straggling place with apologies for streets and huts in plenty. On the recommendation of "his worship" the hotelkeeper, I took a spin across the Manuherikia bridge and up the banks of the Molyneux as far as the Earnscleugh, another of those tributaries which are being ransacked in the hot search for gold. Monday passed all too soon. Going down to the Manuherikia bridge, I inscribed my norn de plume thereon, and after performing that public duty, I left at about 5 p.m. en route for Dunedin, via Omakau. I encountered a stiff headwind, but I was in hopes of its turning to be a fair wind ero I had proceeded too far. What was my chagrin on struggling up an incline to feel my right foot slip and my pedal fly groundward. To crown my discomfiture, there passes the coach crowded with passengers, and of course they must all look and speculate why I was off my bike. This occurred about two miles on the wrong Bide of Chatto Creek, so I had to look forward to a nice pleasant evening walk in the country of nine miles, till I could get to Omakau. Walking is no joke when you think of what might have been, and many and various were the imprecations I made on my wounded steed. However, I managed at last to reach Omakau at 7.45 p.m., and introduced myself to a L.F. there. I was taken under the hospitable wing of our old chum Indian Chief for that night, and at 10 o'clock the next morning I was on the train en route for Dunedin.

And now a few observations on this, my second cycle trip to Alexandra. My first trip up there was undertaken when I had not the least notion of what a long ride really meant. I had purchased the bicycle on the Thursday evening, and on the Friday morning I was on the top of the Maungatua Range en route for Alexandra, by way of Middlemarch. This time I determined to have a change of travel. It had been dinned into my ears what a lovely ride it was up to Lawrence, and what scenery you passed through between Lawrence and Alexandra. All I can say is, wait till I see tKc ozie that recommencled tHa,t road. Oh, I would like to meet him In a cool, secluded spot, I would give him a little something, And that little something hot.

I seem bound for bad luck up the Central way. Last trip I had to walk from Blacks to Rough Ridge, through a typical Central Otago rainstorm, at night, while this time I met with my misfortune only nine miles away from Blacks.

Perhaps Scobie can enlighten the little folk what he was thinking of when he and his party left all those sandwiches and that bucket of milk at the Clark's Flat schoolhouse and allowed the door to be locked just a couple of hours before this chicken arrived there. No doubt the young ladies that he had to act as "haperon to could account for his having paid ho little attention to the eatables.

Many of my cycling friends will remember the old iron shed which acted as the temporary Coach and Horses Hotel after the former erection was burned down. One of the iron sheets lias evidently found a resting place as far up the Central as Omakau, for on crossing the Manuherikia bridge between Blacks and Omakau, I saw a galvanised sheet of iron on the roof of the shed, while the legend right acros«, "Coach and Horses Hotel," proclaimed its birth.

I may yet, if all goes well, pay another visit to Alexandra, vi* Lawrence, next Easter time, and I hope to meet some little folk on my travels. By the way, who were those two L.F. who passed me on the Manuherikia bridge on Christmas Day, and who were too bashful to speak? And now, with love to all the little folk, I shall remain, — Yours truly, HARRY.