> Dave Middleton

Dave Middleton

Profiled April 2018

Dave Middleton is one of our most popular and successful club members. He always has a smile and encouraging words to say. I know you are going to enjoy reading his profile!

Number of years orienteering?
I have been Orienteering for about 32 yrs.

How were you introduced to orienteering?
First saw it when I was camping at Shakespear Regional Park and thought that looks like something that I could have some fun with, so a couple of years later on a drizzly Sunday morning I saw a notice in the paper about orienteering in Woodhill, went out and was hooked. I still have that first map - it was Otakanini Topu - big map with this little wee small course but hey, you have to start somewhere.

Key orienteering achievements to date?
Gosh, hard to know where to start, I have won numerous Auckland champs, Regional champs, National champs over the years. Have also been in the NZ team for many years. Lately I have been going to the Australian Champs every year (they are on at the time we should be having our nationals) and have had good wins over there. Last year was a great one as I am the long, middle and the relay  champ.
In the club I have, over the years, been the President and on the committee. Also served on the NZOF for 3 or 4 years. I would hate to think how much time and more to the point how much MONEY I have spent on this sport, but hey you cant beat a great forest to justify it all.

Current orienteering project or goal?
My current O project is controlling day 3 of Queens Birthday with Matt Ogden, which is more like the blind leading the 20/20 vision as my computer skills are pretty much non-existent.
My long term goal is to get to O-Ringen which is a bit like a muslim going to Mecca (maybe lotto could help me there). Another goal is to continue to be free of any major illness or injury so I can keep going, as a lot in my age group are having bits and pieces packing up on them. That reminds me to get bigger pins for those dolls next week.

Favourite map and why?
Wow that is a hard one, as I have run on many maps of different types of terrain. If you like gold digging and sluicing areas you cant beat Naseby, NZ or many parts of Australia. For a mad mixture of tracks and moss and small to medium rocks and trees trying to poke your eyes out, go to Norway, Sweden etc. Woodhill would have the best complicated sand dune contour maps anywhere.
But the best map I think I have ever run on is Mt Kooyoora in Australia, hardly any tracks with the most complicated rock areas that I have ever been on (lots of rocks well over 7m tall). If you lose map contact there you could be found months later stumbling blindly around in the wilderness.

Orienteering hero?
My O heroes are the ones  that I run against and they consistently come ever so slightly ahead of me - I think they miss the odd control just to do that. And they are - the forever young Rob Garden and Mister (never seem to get old) Ross Brighouse. But in my defence they have been doing it for a lot longer than me (both elite runners) so I have a little more time to catch up.

Day job? 
My day job is as a tiler, and I think that keeps me pretty fit (I have never trained just run on the Sundays) but I must get around to retiring one day .

Other interests? 
The other interests that I have are looking after, or having home, my 8 grandchildren (aged from 12 to 8) - what a great life it is!

May all your forests be sunlit and all the controls are where you think they should be.

One of Dave's favourite events each year is the Australian Championships Carnival. In 2017 this was held near Bathurst. For the midweek events, Dave managed to enter himself in the Men's A races, designed more for the elites. His travelling companions Wayne Aspin, Geoff Mead, Rob Garden, Marquita Gelderman and Pip Poole suggested he might change his grade. When he did not, his heroics led to this poem being penned, with apologies to Banjo Paterson "The Man from Snowy River", and for artistic licence taken with the story.

The Snowy Man from Woodhill

Australian Orienteering Champs, Mens A mass start race, near Bathurst, Sept 29^th 2017
For Ukelele Dave from his orienteering friends.

There was movement at the homestay, for the word had passed around
that the Snowy Man from Woodhill was there that day,
to take on men's elite in the longest race in town;
all starters came and gathered to the fray.
All the tried and noted athletes from O clubs near and far
had mustered there in Bathurst overnight.
For elite O men love hard running where the wild bush courses are,
and others share the challenge with keenness and delight.

There's Rob Garden, who made his pile playing 500 with the boys;
that Peter Pan with body ripped, his eyes always aglow;
but few could run beside him when his blood was fairly up
he would go wherever human men could go.
Michael Wood from Hutt Valley came up to lend a hand;
no better navigator had eâ'r been seen;
rogaining, biking, running - wherever there was land,
if there's a race, he joins the queue, and is for ever keen.

And one was there, an older man but specimen of beast,
a gifted runner undersized,
with a heart of Timor pony - "three parts thoroughbred at least”
a build by orienteers so prized.
He was hard and tough and wiry ” just the sort that won't say die”
there was courage in his quick impatient tread;
Intelligence and gameness emerged from his blue eye,
and the proud and lofty carriage of his head.

He hails from Matakana, up by Tamahunga's side,
where the hills are twice as steep and twice as rough,
working as a tiler, for houses large and wide,
carrying loads most would call way too tough.
The Snowy Man from Woodhill likes to roam,
to Aussie Champs, with the Tasman in between;
to test all comers and bring medals home.
No better M70 was ever seen.

So he starts, locates the first by a big mimosa clump
then races towards the mountain's brow,
and those behind him call to others, o boys, go at him from the jump,
no point in cunning running now.
He rarely makes an error- no wheeling to the right-
runs boldly now and never fears the spills,
for there's never been a runner who can keep the map in sight,
despite the furrows and the slopes of hills.

Then fast the O men followed, where the gorges deep and black
resounded to the thunder of their tread.
Control beeps set off echoes, and they fiercely answered back
from cliffs and crags that towered overhead.
Then the Snowy Man from Woodhill turned his fearless head,
and he moved his compass round and gave a cheer,
then raced them down the mountain like a torrent down its bed,
while the others stood and watched in very fear.

He sent the flint stones flying, but danced upon his feet,
clearing fallen timber in his stride,
the Snowy Man from Woodhill never once fell on his seat -
North West spectators puffed their chests with pride.
Through the stringy barks and saplings, on the rough and broken ground,
down the hillside at a racing pace he went;
and he never drew a breath till he landed safe and sound,
at the bottom of that terrible descent.

He was nearly on his knees as he climbed the final hill,
the watchers on the mountain standing mute,
seeing him struggle with his bearing, but he was in it still,
as he raced across the clearing to the gaping finish chute.
Then they lost him for a moment, where the two re-entrants met,
to emerge afresh and streak across the rise,
ahead of every chaser, their brows all soaked in sweat;
wild cheers were heard as Snowy took the prize.

Down in Woodhill Forest, where the sand dunes raise
their knolls and spurs and saddles oh so high;
where the air is clear as crystal, and the white stars fairly blaze
at midnight in the cold and frosty sky.
Where around the raupo swamp the reedbeds sweep and sway,
and pine trees stretch towards the sun;
the Snowy Man from Woodhill is a household word to-day;
all who were there recount the story of his run.

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