A SATURDAY AFTERNOON’S RAMBLE.

New Zealand Illustrated Sporting & Dramatic Review, Volume III, Issue 105, 28 July 1892, Page 7

A SATURDAY AFTERNOON’S RAMBLE.

I By

Sir Launcelot.]

To one who, like myself, is a comparative stranger to Auckland, and still more a stranger to its suburbs, a Saturday afternoon affords a chance of seeing some of the sights that are to be seen in the Queen City of the North and its vicinity. So I wasn’t slow to take advantage of this opportunity the Saturday before last, but not being a devotee of football, I was in a bit of a quandary for a while as to where to go. Queried a sporting friend whom I met in Queen-street, “ What do you say to the pigeon match ? ” “ Ah ! ” I replied, “ that is right in my line ; I would like to see some good pigeon shooting.” And then my friend explained to me that a drag would leave the Edinburgh Castle Hotel about half-past two p.m. for Avondale, where the pigeons were destined to fall before the ruthless destroyer. So to the Edinburgh Castle Hotel we wended our way, and soon seated on the box seat of a ’bus our horses’ heads were turned towards Avondale, and leaving crowds of footballers and “ barrackers ” speeding on their way to Potter’s Paddock, we were travelling through some country entirely new to me. I literally drank in the scenery on both sides of the road ; it was a lovely and serene afternoon —one of those on which you could freely breathe what Lindsay Gordon calls “God’s own glorious oxygen ” —and my companion kept me well informed, as we journeyed onward, as to the principal spots of interest in the ever-changing landscape. About a mile this side of Avondale our coach stopped and some shootists alighted. I say advisedly “some shootists,” for they were a mere handful; and as it seemed to my friend and myself that the sport was not likely to be very brilliant or very interesting, we determined to keep on our journey as far as Avondale. My friend threw out a gentle hint that I might like to have a look at the Avondale racecourse. I can assure you, my readers, that I wasn’t particularly impressed with even that prospect, for I had heard such a lot down South about the daring deeds perpetrated on Auckland suburban racecourses that I had almost come to look upon all these trysting grounds as hot-beds of iniquity and as uncultivated wastes given over to the “roping” of the noble thoroughbred. But mv illusion in this direction was forcibly dispelled when I arrived in sight of the Avondale course. I at once started to enthuse over it, and I enthused still further when I had walked over it with my friend and genial Host Foley, who takes a pardonable pride in the track and its surroundings, which he has done so much to bring to their present state of picturesqueness and completeness. The state of the course and its adjuncts is all the more creditable to the Club because the season just closing is only the second of its existence. They held two meetings this season and two during that of 1890-91. The course is a mile round less 80 yards, and is on a nice flat, with a straight run-in of 19! chains, while on the far side there is a straight of just half a chain more. I thought we had some nice suburban racecourses in the neighborhood of Christchurch, but I am sure some of my old Christchurch friends would, if they had been with me on Saturday week, have joined with me in an eulogium on the Avondale course, more especially when they saw that in addition to the track laid down for ordinary racing purposes the Avondale Club has a special steeplechase course, only two jumps of which are on the course proper. I remarked to Mr. Foley when we were going over the course that in conformation and the nature and situation of its appurtenances it bore a somewhat close resemblance to that at Plumpton Park near Christchurch, and if any of my old friends who control the destinies of the Plumpton Park Racing and Coursing Club had been with me at the time I am sure they would have endorsed my remark, although at the same

time they would have reminded me that though they have not a made steeplechase course of their own they have a natural one —and a capital one too —owing to their having had the permission of owners of land adjacent to run through their paddocks. Furthermore, they might have reminded me that they have an enclosed Plumpton coursing ground on their property which is about as complete as hands can make it, which the Avondale Club do not so far possess. However, the preliminaries for a Plumpton there have been laid out, andthe wire for the necessary netting has been ordered from England, but it will hardly arrive in time for any coursing to take place on the ground this season. Next season, however, I am sure we shall find the Avondale R.C.’s Plumpton grounds a favourite resort for lovers of the longtails. The grandstand at Avondale is most conveniently constructed; there is ample accommodation; a spacious bar is underneath ; there are a weighing room, a jockeys rooms, etc.; and I was agreeably surprised at the extent of the saddling paddock. I, however, took exception to there being no entrance by which the jockeys could come to be weighed in without being jostled against by the general public, but I was informed that a fence will be erected as a barrier before another race meeting is held on the course. After I had had everything sufficiently explained to me, and had made some suggestions in the direction of improvements, which I am sure were taken in the spirit in which they were meant, my friend and myself drank Host Foley’s health and prosperity to the Avondale Racing Club, by which time the cry of “All aboard!” k greeted us from our charioteer. It then remained for me to have my first introduction to Auckland pigeon shooting, and it was not long before I had it. Alighting at the spot where we had left the shootists a little bit earlier in the - afternoon, we found them shooting off what they were pleased to call the “ last ties.” Shooting off, forsooth ! There was but little chance of the poor bird having any show with the fell destroyer on that occasion. First of all the shooter would stand a lot closer to the trap than he had any right to ; then if the bird did not rise he was pelted with stones by several enthusiastic youngsters in close attendance. Presuming he did not rise, and was lucky enough to get out of the marksman’s aim, if he winged his flight round to the other end of the paddock, there were in attendance there several pothunters, and “ bang ! bang I bang ! ” could be heard in all directions. It was a treat to a sportsman to see one or two birds get away at times in spite of all opposition. But the odds against them doing so were a bit long, and when I saw a shootist bang at a bird within a few yards of him when it had not fairly risen from the trap, I came to the conclusion that for bastard sport pigeon shooting in Auckland “ took the cake.” The Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals should be in evidence on a future Saturday if there is a repetition of the sport I witnessed when I was there. There is, I understand, an established Gun Club in Auckland, and I hope to participate in some of their gatherings, but from such exhibitions as that I witnessed on Saturday week I fervently pray to be delivered for the future. So I did not come home in a very good humour with myself or with some people who profess to call themselves sportsmen, but I had a pleasant drive to Avondale and a look over its racecourse, which I hope will be the precursor of many similar Saturday afternoon rambles in the neighborhood of Auckland.