Archive for the ‘Trail Poetry’ Category

The Art of Passing

Don’t look for us in this place tomorrow,

Our worn boots are just passing through.

No matter the boon or beauty here,

We may only tarry for a day or two.

 

The art of passing is what we practice,

With footprints on paths we paint the miles,

Passing rocks and hills, lakes and rills.

Our steps pass fields, cross stiles.

 

We pass people and oft we have to stop,

To pass pleasant time, the weather we discuss.

Then moving reluctantly on past lake and hill,

We jealously watch the clouds pass us.

 

When our day is past, the evening waning,

And our legs grow weary and tired,

We realize that to master this passing art,

We are not done, more practice is required.

 

So don’t look for us in this place tomorrow,

Closer to the grave we must daily proceed,

And one day finish a masterpiece of passing,

This wandering life we lead.

 

Hike Your Own Hike!

It’s Poetry Time!!!

Yes, my trail name is Poet.  I suppose that if you have wasted enough of your life to read this far you should be rewarded with some answers.  I write poetry in my head as I hike.  Some people sing, some chit chat, and some even rave, but I do poetry.  It’s a mental challenge for me to go along with the physical challenges of covering the miles.

What do I write about?  I love mountain hiking in general and I love the Appalachian Trail specifically.  There is a freedom knowing that you are miles from anything resembling civilization.  I try to reflect this in rhyme and phrase.  Often, there is a humorous leaning to my poems and sometimes there is a story behind them.  Like this one…

While at Trail Days in Damascus, VA last year I met a young woman making her second attempt at a thru hike of the AT.  Her trail name was Four Eyes due to her inability to see clearly without the aid of her glasses.  As so often is the case with trail names, her name really came out of an incident.  She lost her only pair of glasses while hiking North into the GSMNP.  She hike the entire park and then some without the aid of her glasses, a feat unto itself.  You don’t hike the big trails by letting struggles get in the way.  Four Eyes didn’t quit for a day.  The experience became a badge of honor for her.  By the time I met her she had acquired a replacement set and all was well.   She proved to be an insightful person with a dry sense of humor, in other words we hit it off almost immediately and became friends.

I had to promise her that I would write a poem about her adventures.  Unfortunately, inspiration doesn’t appear on demand and over 6 months later the poem finally came together.  So here it is…a humorous tribute to a brave hiker: Four Eyes.

The Ballad of Four Eyes

Hear now the tale of Four-eyes,
A legend like of old,
Back in the spring of ’11,
Her story did unfold.
Er’ strange does the telling go,
For blindly walked the passes,
A small figure wandering to and fro
Cuz four-eyes lost her glasses!

Yes, Four-eyes lost her glasses!
From a trip or just a stumble,
It doesn’t matter now how,
The result was a rolling tumble,
Bringing on her possible despair,
Defining her great plight,
For alas, without a backup pair,
She was abjectly poor of sight!

Yes, Four-eyes lost her glasses!
Miles and miles from anywhere,
But bravery was not in short supply,
So our hero  hadn’t a care,
Continuing up the winding treks,
Moving from tree to rock to log,
She could have used some replacement specs,
Or perhaps a good guide dog!

Yes, Four-eyes lost her glasses!
But a new set was on the way!
Her loving mom had sent them,
Overnight without delay.
So four eyes got post office directions,
And from dawn to noon she sat,
Only to find her ocular imperfects,
Had her outside the laundry mat.

Yes, Four-eyes lost her glasses,
Still the story didn’t end that day.
Four-eyes got new glasses,
And finished the Appalachian way.
Yet, if you take a mountain stroll,
And a pair of glasses your eye spies,
Remember this little story droll,
And send them back to Four-eyes.