Gore Truck Parade
The excitement was brewing as we headed for Gore
Where we had heard of a parade with trucks galore
On the birthday weekend of the Golden Guitars
The rain came down and filled the bars
But the faithful were out to polish the rigs
That had been welded together in the maker’s jigs
In North America, Europe, Australia too
And adapted by Kiwi’s to fit their shoe
We found them all parked in the refueling yard
Led by the winner of the previous card
A big red Kenny with a “B�?train tail
With the power of a Cat to make her sail
Parked out on the road some older makes
That had earned their stripes with all it takes
Like an R190 Inter called Super Gran
That worked as hard as any truck can
There were Mack’s and White’s and Leyland’s swell
Like the Comet that had me under it’s spell
With ninety horses not much you say
But considered adequate a half century away
The camera flashed as one by one
We recorded the units enjoying the fun
Then we headed away to the main shopping street
To stand under verandah to await our treat
The rigs all came screaming air through their horns
The loggers on seal away from the thorns
And what was that hidden behind curtain screens?
An added ponder to this trucking scene
One hundred and three pictures I took
As the very earth grumbled and shook
In this town in Southland with the river running by
I’ll be back next year or I sure will try.
Mark Thrice
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