A Man I Knew

An Amyish attempt at a Clerihew

A man I once knew His name I have no clue He only wore one shoe He gifted me a wise view

Greying stranger Ignored the danger Walked the rocky trail With a big smile and no wail

Nameless man Opened my wingspan When my knee was bung Complaints became unsung

Mr unknown name A hero of mine you became I will never ever forget Forever on my “up you get” palette

Boj and I were working our way around Australia.

The wet season had just come to an end in the Kimberley region and the Gibb River Road was reopen.

Amazing road if you are ever in the area. The pindan (red dirt) contrasting the green after the rains is glorious.

Along the unsealed road, there are many treasures to indulge in.

The gorges being one of them.

Depending on the gorge, the treks can be anywhere from 1–3 hours to a few days to a few weeks.

The level of intensity differing.

All of them rewarding with beautiful views and usually a waterfall for a refreshing swim…the swim pending on the likelihood a salt water croc may have found a new home with the flood waters.

This particular day, we were walking a 3 hour round trail. There were a few hairy climbing/jumpy areas but they were all manageable.

The humidity was intensely high..like sweat dripping down every crevice in your body kinda high…was the first time I discovered my eyelids could sweat!

It was coming to the end of 2 weeks of rough camping and our tongues were on the edge of complaint that day.

Before we allowed a winge to escape, we spied this guy, early 80’s. Biggest smile we had ever seen. Tackling the trail with one leg and a walking stick.

He told us he was living a dream of his. No way a missing leg was going to stop him.

He didn’t care how long it took, he was making it the whole way on his own…well, almost on his own. He did have a couple of mates for support…just in case.

We saw him later on having a beer at the campsite celebrating. He was stoked.

His determination never left my mind. Not once did I feel like complaining my legs were tired for the rest of that trip.

Years later, he was back on my mind.

I was on a plane to South America with a mate. A freshly dislocated knee cap I’d won 3 days before we left.

Not the best timing.

Especially since the Inca Trail to Machu Picchu was on the cards.

Being of stubborn mind, against the well meaning advice of many people, I went ahead with the 3 month trip as well as the 3 day trek.

Three 3's.. yep guess with hindsight that may have been a sign?

Our first entrance into a backpackers resulted in me falling flat on my face. I misjudged the height of a step and my ability to move my swollen leg.

My friend told me later she thought that was the end of our trip.

Luckily it wasn’t.

We got pretty good at asking for ice to tame the swelling after that incident and sight seeing.

Three weeks in (another 3!) and we were up for the Inca Trail.

The high altitudes made many of my fellow companions unwell. For me, it gifted me the cool air I need to keep my swelling down.

With my one legged friend front of mind, I kept up as best as I could.

At the peak of a summit I was given a tap on the back.

Someone said “Easy going now…it’s all down hill”.

Tears rolled down my cheeks unexpectedly.

Downhill hurt the most for my knee.

I knew me ole mate never wiped the smile off his face when he was walking the rocky trail in the Kimberley. So the tears didn't last long.

There were several offers for the sherpas to carry me…seriously, they were half my size… there was no way I was accepting a piggy back ride. Even though I knew they could manage the job -those guys can carry a massive load and still nimbly run laps around us tourists on the trail.

My single mindedness, would never give in.

I made it.

My knee grateful to have a rest.

Me… grateful for the view. Grateful my good friend kept me company and gave me extra support.

Grateful I had remembered me ole mate from the Kimberley.

I realise I have yet again coloured a little outside of the lines of what the definition of a Clerihew is …

• I didn’t have a name
• He wasn’t famous
• It was a glimpse of only one day of his life- although I reckon it tells a lot about the person he is/was?
• I didn’t keep it to 4 lines.

I trust that’s ok.

Thanks to Kathryn A. LeRoy, Ph.D. for the nudge to try it out.

Joe Luca’s politically flavoured view in clerihews

If you are feeling so inclined to give it a go, please tag me to guide my eyes to have a read.

Thanks for reading

Thanks for being you