First Day of Our Hike (a ballad)
Our goal, the Tuscarora trail
and a week together.
I’ll bring the gear and, without fail,
you find maps, my brother.
But while we prep I did not see,
the maps we need as guides.
To navigate will simply be,
imperfect we decide.
We found the trail and ready to go,
road atlas in our hand.
A week upon the trail we’d know
just where we were, we planned.
I’d have the food upon my back,
you will carry the trash.
We would eat and lighten my pack.
a lashed, hundred pound stash.
Follow the blue marks on the trail,
in the warm summer heat.
Hiking so strong, but ended in fail,
blocked trails, not to be beat.
We ventured out and through the woods
to the valley, below
No roads – we did the best we could
with the atlas, you know.
At the bottom, we found the road
and a town with wagons.
Amish girls, with no shoes, behold,
work the fields in legions.
We dodged their carts and left their smiles,
toward pastures far ahead.
The sun fell down, we hiked for miles,
sweating as if I bled.
The cows we passed, stared so oddly
my brother met their eye
He spawned the stampede, ungodly.
Then tried to run away.
I grabbed and made him stand with me,
waving to back them down.
We calmed the cows, then finally,
we headed out of town.
I made him promise, faithfully,
never stare at a cow.
And to this day, he says it’s silly,
but it’s a solemn vow.
The trail we sought would not appear,
a house we saw, instead.
The neighbors said, go ‘round the rear,
he followed, while I led.
Then through one gate, I let him pass,
as I closed it again.
He got one, as I did the last,
but could not seal the pen.
Frustrated me, went back to help
but he had failed to say,
“Electric fence”, I gave a yelp.
This just wasn’t my day.
I wasn’t happy, we walked on
and passed more cows, you see.
With no more stares, I gave a yawn,
then saw him past the tree.
A texas steer was watching us
as we got near the fence.
With horns so long, I knew they must
be for more than defense.
Unstrap your pack and be prepared
to hand it underneath.
He argued back, just as I feared
were those chattering teeth?
He saw the bull, but listened well
As I slipped right under.
I grabbed his pack, then had to dwell,
On my brother’s blunder.
My brother crawled onto my side
but left my gear behind
The bull came up, I almost cried,
I feared what I would find.
A few gruff words was all it took,
and sticks to drag it back.
Under the fence and near the brook,
we pulled and got my pack.
In the woods and up the mountain,
we didn’t walk so far.
We fell beside the stream, and then,
ended this day, bizarre.
Today, adventure was our prize,
there was no looking back.
The sun drew down, I closed my eyes
my pillow was my pack.
|It’s entirely possible that I got a little carried away with today’s prompt – a ballad. Based on a true story, I hope you enjoy.|
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