Some speak of streamlined comets and Dior’s famed New Look
But now you’ll read the saga of Perress-Stevens and Norm Cook,
Posterity will marvel at these iron men who have won renown
By pushing a wheelbarrow from Gormanston to Queenstown.
Eight couples - men of muscle - left Gormy sharp at three,
A couple to each barrow, contest this single wheeled Grand Prix.
One was a passenger in the barrow but with no chance of a nap
While the other laboured grimly up the steep track to the gap.

These sixteen volunteers all worthy men and keen
To uphold the traditions, of past champions of the “Queen”
Proud to do their upmost for backers, school and club
And to prove worthy of being honoured by sponsors from each pub.
Cook - Bell - Perress-Stevens - Jorgenson and Bill Hales,
Two Murphies and Geoff Blainey, the pick of Queenstown males
With two Laceys, Terry Enright, Bruce Dilger and Brian Pilling,
Don Lewis, John McDermott with Roley Leitch so fast and willing.

All eight couples in line are waiting ,for the starting time is near
And soon the epic push commences - the highlight of the year
Over an unsealed road and the barrow with an iron wheel
Not recommended for the faint hearted only men of steel.
Handles are gripped firmly as the passengers sit tight
And so begins the journey to a goal that’s not yet in sight.

The gap is a far distant horizon already to a few
As they chase the leading couple somewhere up ahead
Who had set a rapid pace with swift and sure tread,
But eventually the stragglers, staggered to the gap
And although at this point, they were running out of puff
And they were feeling the going getting tough
They were not prepared to say, “that they had had enough”,
Determined, they would finish the ever descending final lap,
Positive they could catch the leaders, still lost to view.

Thus encouraged, with second wind, the gap was left far behind
But the hectic pace could not last, for they were men not machines
And the tension was starting to tell on body and on mind
And the wheel barrow duos, imagine the organisers to be fiends
Whilst down the winding roadway Perress-Stevens and Norm Cook
Unwound a speed amazing, that none could slow or brook.
Past the Smelters Bend then down the Lyell road,
Nothing seemed to deter the willing pusher or his load,
Nine and twenty minutes - seven minutes to the mile.
No wonder that our heroes met “Nanky” with a victor’s smile.

Alas! Now truth compels me to put in black and white
That of the pushed and pushing not many were in sight
And although the strain is telling on the pushing and the sitter
The compulsion to finish is compelling as neither is a quitter.

Garlands to the winners - hard earned and well deserved
For they set a standard and never once became unnerved
As they travel the ninety nine bends before they came to rest
Before their host, at the winning post, to be declared the best
And become part of a legend, for they were put to the test
By their peers and one, to become the pride of the west.
The other competitors who competed deserved the praise
Of all fair minded men, for without them, there would be no race.
Thank you one and all for your spirit and your competitive ways.
You should be proud, for you allowed, the “Express” to take place.
History will record, there was no reward, for any success
The race was run, just for fun by sixteen strong and keen
And memories of that last, of our past, and of the Gormie Express
Are the only souvenirs, treasured for years, never more to be seen.