River Trip

Took a trip back in Ninety-Three,

 just some old buddies and me.

From Coal Banks Landin’,

 to where I’m standin’.

Stoped in at the Virgelle Store,

 sittin’ by the river shore.

Try the Maple-Nut ice cream,

 just before you hit the stream.

Steady our canoe at the river launch,

 as it wobbles, I ‘m not so staunch.

Now that old river really rips,

 makin’ for hazardous trips.

It’s muddy, fast and wide,

 canoein’ past the beaver slide.

Got no phone and no faxes,

 no stinkin’ job that taxes.

First stop is at Eagle Creek,

 cloudburst shelter we do seek.

Pitchin’ tents in the wind,

 we start lookin’ so chagrined.

Soakin’ wet and shiverin’,

 the maelstrom is deliverin’.

Waitin’ for the storm to end,

 campin’ on the river bend.

At the dawn’s early light,

 Oh Montana, y’er a sight!

High, wide and handsome,

 Big Sky paid its ransom.

I left her back in Seventy,

 hopin’ maybe I’d find me.

Now here I stand in this great land,

 its wonders and its views so grand.

Texas is big and Texas is wide,

 but Montana is a place to hide.

Three days paddlin’ with Lewis and Clark,

 Louisiana Purchase weren’t no lark.

There’s no planes and no trains,

 out there on the open plains.

Paddle like Hell for the other side,

 drifted downstream, but we tried.

Climb the bluff to the crest,

 take some time for a rest.

The Bridal Arch is so divine,

 underneath where lovers pine.

Once they loved each so dear,

not so much now I fear.

 Cold beer sounds mighty good,

swore it off, like I should.

Three years sober a month ago,

 made a pledge, I can’t forego.

No hymn and no preacher,

 the Big Sky is your teacher.

This noble land is so big,

 Heaven just can’t renege.

Black’s a- tellin’ jokes,

 Oh, the laughs he provokes.

We hoot and holler half the night,

 not bothered by the city light.

Mornin’ breaks so big and wide,

 piece of Heaven on our side.

Breakfast is of bacon and eggs,

 then it’s time to stretch our legs.

This land where the Blackfeet tread,

 is now turned in to a homestead.

Petroglyphs on sandstone walls,

 listen to their long-lost calls.

Gone are all their yesteryears,

 driven out on a trail of tears.

Treaties are made to break,

 Mother Earth we will take.

The trappers and the traders,

 were never such raiders.

Now the bridges and the rails,

 are followin’ their trails.

We quicken up the pace,

 o’er the rapids we do race,

At Hole-in-the-Rock,

 we take a walk.

Sneakin’ up on Prairie Dog Town,

 make no noise to scare them down.

That deer on the ridge,

 should be in my fridge.

Eagle has a gopher in tow,

 feel its wings here below.

Blue racer swims on by,

 barely catch it with my eye.

The others yak while I paddle,

 me, I don’t mind all the prattle.

Some think aloud, not inside,

 I’m just along for the ride.

The steamboats are long gone,

 but the river still rolls on.

Wild and Scenic so they say,

 may it always stay that way.

Forty-Nine miles bring out the smiles,

 no Disneyland and no turnstiles.

Judith Landin’ just slips up,

 surely God has filled my cup.

As the bridge comes in sight,

 that big blue sky is so bright.

Doug jumps in to pull us out,

 trip is over, there’s no doubt.

Over and done, such a pity,

 tomorrow it is back to the city.

LDT Feb 19, ‘98

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