During the 1960's the school had a very active Hiking Club - with many field trips. This song was composed circa 1965 by the then 6th Form members. The original manuscript was kept by Peter Chadwick.


Now this is the tale of the T.H.C.
The Towneley hiking club,
Who went for a ride up a mountainside
With boots and bags of grub.
There was Mr. L and Miss Gaskell,
And behind a motley crew
Of layabouts and hardy scouts,
All hikers stout and true.

With a left and a right
And hold on tight
Or you won't get home tonight.

There was snow on the top and dirty big drop
Of a thousand feet or more,
The hardy band had struggled on
And many were now footsore,
On a snowdrift deep, some lay down to sleep
And fell into a great crevasse,
"Hard cheese you clots", is all they get
As the rest of the hikers pass.


A courageous soul, just like a mole,
A tunnel of ice crawled through,
Alas he was fat, and there he sat,
And howled for a warming brew.
Another one, not to be outdone,
Swung out on a hanging rock,
But his braces caught and there he swang,
And he cried as he hung TICK TOCK!


They met a Yeti on the top
Whose face looked quite familiar,
Then looking at their guide they saw
His face was rather similar.
At this ghastly sight, and the thought of their plight,
Another dozen died,
The rest with a rush, and a heartless push,
Sent them crashing down the mountainside.


Now mishaps came all thick and fast
And numbers dwindled low,
There were shouts from the rear and a ragged jeer
As a blizzard began to blow.
They went into the snow, visibility low,
And 3 came out at the end.
One was quite snowblind, one was out of his mind,
And the other right round the bend.


So we'll bring this tale to it's sorrowful close,
And the finish of the Towneley Branch,
For the last falt'ring three went hurtling down a scree
In a massive avalanche!
Where are they now? Those gallant men,
They hike in the courts on high,
They have wings on their arms and boots on their feet,
And they shout their joyous cry.

Chorus (with vigour!)