We didn’t get very far today, but we sure had a lot of fun! This is another day I’ve been looking forward to.
The trip today was inspired by another CW McCall song:
“Wolf Creek Pass”
Me an’ Earl was haulin’ chickens on a flatbed out of Wiggins
And we’d spent all night on the uphill side of thirty-seven miles of hell
Called Wolf Creek Pass. Which is up on the Great Divide?
We was settin’ there suckin’ toothpicks, drinkin’ Nehi and onion soup mix
And I said, “Earl, let’s mail a card to Mother then send them chickens on down the other side
Yeah, let’s give ’em a ride”
Wolf Creek Pass, way up on the Great Divide
Truckin’ on down the other side
Well, Earl put down his bottle, mashed his foot down on the throttle
And then a couple’a boobs with a thousand cubes in a nineteen-forty-eight Peterbilt screamed to life
We woke up the chickens
Well, we roared up offa that shoulder sprayin’ pine cones, rocks, and boulders
And put four hundred head of them Rhode Island reds and a couple a’ burnt-out roosters on the line
Look out below; ’cause here we go
Wolf Creek Pass, way up on the Great Divide
Truckin’ on down the other side
Well, we commenced to truckin’ and them hens commenced to cluckin’
And then Earl took out a match and scratched his pants and lit up the unused half of a dollar cigar and took a puff
Says “My, ain’t this purdy up here”
I says, “Earl, this hill can spill us. You better slow down or you gonna kill us
Just make one mistake and it’s the Pearly Gates for them eight-five crates a’ USDA-approved cluckers
You wanna hit second?”
Wolf Creek Pass, way up on the Great Divide
Truckin’ on down the other side
Well, Earl grabbed on the shifter and he stabbed her into fifth gear
And then the chromium-plated, fully-illuminated genuine accessory shift knob come right off in his hand
I says, “You wanna screw that thing back on, Earl?”
He was tryin’ to thread it on there when the fire fell off a’ his cigar
And dropped on down, sorta rolled around, and then lit in the cuff of Earl’s pants and burned a hole in his sock
Yeah, sorta set him right on fire
I looked on outta the window and I started countin’ phone poles
Goin’ by at the rate of four to the seventh power
Well I put two and two together, and added twelve and carried five
Come up with twenty-two thousand telephone poles an hour
I looked at Earl and his eyes was wide, his lip was curled, and his leg was fried
And his hand was froze to the wheel like a tongue to a sled in the middle of a blizzard
I says, “Earl, I’m not the type to complain; but the time has come for me to explain
That if you don’t apply some brake real soon, they’re gonna have to pick us up with a stick and a spoon”
Well, Earl rared back, and cocked his leg, stepped down as hard as he could on the brake
And the pedal went clear to the floor and stayed there, right there on the floor
He said it was sorta like steppin’ on a plum
Well, from there on down it just wasn’t real purdy: it was hairpin county and switchback city
One of ’em looked like a can full’a worms; another one looked like malaria germs
Right in the middle of the whole damn show was a real nice tunnel, now wouldn’t you know?
Sign says clearance to the twelve-foot line, but the chickens was stacked to thirteen-nine
Well we shot that tunnel at a hundred-and-ten, like gas through a funnel and eggs through a hen
And we took that top row of chickens off slicker than scum off a Louisiana swamp
Went down and around and around and down ’til we run outta ground at the edge of town
Bashed into the side of the feed store… in downtown Pagosa Springs
Wolf Creek Pass, way up on the Great Divide
Truckin’ on down the other side
Wolf Creek Pass, way up on the Great Divide
Truckin’ on down the other side