Welcome to Beastly Tales. Each has a message, a moral. All are meant to have an element of humour. Naturally, any names included do not depict real folk but are included as part of the joke.
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(As with Beastly Banter Beastly Tales is written and illustrated by Richard Hersel.)
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Richard Hersel
BEASTLY TALES
THE MOUNTAINEER
Olag Rachet like to go walking to town,
Many folk would greet him, for he had some renown.
He was one of the greatest of mountaineers,
Having climbed all the greats, conquered his fears.
Of the greatest, he’d scaled the Matterhorn,
Which happened to be in the country he was born.
In Pakistan he’d climbed Godwin Austirt (K2),
Where it was so cold it had hurt, (pray too),
Mount Everest, the greatest of all he had ascended,
Nearly nine thousand metres, until is was ended,
Sucking on oxygen from Camp four to the top,
Very grateful when it became time to stop.
The last stretch aptly named the “Death Zone”,
The hardest stretch, where many accidents are prone.
Olag was valiant, no-one could contest,
After all, he’d climbed Mount Everest.
But he was always looking for an angle,
So that some profitable business he could wrangle.
It occurred to him on Everest Camps 1, 2 and 3,
That there might be a commercial angle for he,
And anyone else who might partner with him.
He had noticed the many people who’d been there,
They mostly seemed happy, without a care.
Happy enough to leave lots of rubbish around,
Requiring the sherpas to clear up the ground.
He thought, “If so many could ascend,”
“It might be the beginning of a trend,”
“What about encouraging special interest tours,”
“Starting small, perhaps in twos, threes and fours.”
The Aged Care market came to mind,
Retired folk who had money could find,
That a new vitality could generate,
From an Everest Challenge with a mate.
Imagine the enormous satisfaction of reaching,
The Death Zone, and then finally breeching,
Those last eight hundred metres, to the top.
Yes, that final exhilarating hop.
That existential leap to the summit,
Never questioning “How come it?”
Another special interest group are those with vertigo,
They would just love it in the snow.
And scaling all these heights,
May just cure them of their frights.
What about a Scouting party,
Those lads are hale and hearty,
A new badge they could win,
Such success could under-pin,
Their toughening up, to be a man,
A vital part of their education plan.
Olag, with enthusiasm planned,
But, in the end, his plans were canned.
His advisers said, “You’ve lost the plot.”
So Olag went off and bought a yacht.