Ballad of Rhymin' Worm

REFRAIN
The Worm went south to Springer Mt.
burning all his bridges,
his next six months a series of
Appalachian ridges.

Day 1
He bid goodbye to spouse and dog
(and beer and Coca-Cola)
and picked his way to the first blaze
from Amicalola.

Day 2
At Nimblewell the blisters bit
which made him feel like shouting,
and Rangers in their camo paint
ambushed him at Hawk Mountain.

Day 3
The April sun was sweltering;
he humped up Sassafrass,
and when he reached the gap at Gooch
the AT'd kicked his a--.

Day 4
The Trail was packed with Scouts and dads
earning badges walking.
At night the hollows of the hills
echoed with their talking.

Day 5
Blood Mountain Shelter was a pit
despite the panoramas;
"Bigfoot" in his gorilla mask
was clowning for the cameras.

Day 6
Recuperation was the word
hosteling at Walasi-Yi;
then camping up on Wildcat Ridge
(Whitley Shelter was a sty).

Day 7
Eleven miles from Hogpen Gap
sharing shelter with the "Loon,"
he spent a windy, chilly night
with stars, comet, and new moon.

Day 8
The view at Tray Mt. was superb:
impossible to match,
till Gary and Lennie's welcome
at the Blueberry Patch

Day 9 (Day off, refrain)
The Worm went south to Springer Mount
burning all his bridges
His next six months a series of
Appalachian Ridges.

Day 10
After a Hiawassee Day--
rest and relaxation--
'twas onward Carolina-way
(to the Worm's home station)

Day 11
The climb from Bly Gap was a grunt;
wet, cold--one vast hurt.
The shelter crowd soon warmed him, with
"Singing Bear" in concert

Day 12
The view from Standing Indian
was worth the whipping breeze,
which heralded at Carter Gap
a twenty degree freeze.

Day 13
He pushed and pushed to Rainbow Springs
until his feet were sore.
The bunkhouse was a rowdy scene,
its woodstove made to roar.

Day 14
A horrid call from work reached out
to drag him back this day.
He shook his head and packed his pack
and turned and hiked away.

Day 15
Departing Siler's in the sun
to see how far he'd go,
he stopped at Cold Spring, waking to
a blanketing of snow.

Day 16
All downhill to Rufus Morgan
from Nantehala Balds
dreaming of Wesser restaurants'
coffee so hot it scalds.

Day 17
Sardined into a shelter box
one mile from NOC,
the night passed quick, the morning came;
to meet his love went he.

Day 18 (Day off--Wesser) Refrain
TheWorm went South to Springer Mount
burning all his bridges
his next six months a series of
Appalachian ridges.

Day 19
Recovering from too many beers
the hikers staggered north;
three thousand feet of climbing was
about all they were worth.

Day 20
Early morning thunder waked him
at Locust Cove Gap.
A rainy morning hiking on;
a short noon shelter nap.

Day 21
Wind, dark clouds and muddy trails
bothered him all day,
but rain held off till Cable Gap
where he sheltered safe away.

Day 22
Fontana's Hilton was a treat
no mouse or skunk came near,
but missed connections, lousy rain
made the next day drear.

Day 23 REFRAIN (day off, Fontana Dam)
The Worm went South to Springer Mount,
burning all his bridges;
his next six months a series of
Appalachian ridges.

Day 24
Up Shuckstack to the Smoky Mounts,
recovering from a cold,
he spent the night at Mollie's Field:
a ten-mile day, all told.

Day 25
The hike to Derricks Knob looked fun:
the Smokies? Pretty easy!
(Until he stumbled into camp,
exhausted, damp, and greasy.)

Day 26
Over the hump of Clingman's Dome
as crummy weather neared--
the views were chill, then rain closed in,
the weather all had feared.

Day 27
Mount Collins Shelter was a mess:
he feared that he would drown,
so he slogged five miles to Newfound Gap
and hitched a ride to town.

Day 28
A rainy morn in Gatlinburg,
a wet day on the trail
an afternoon of boot-deep mud,
a night of storm an hail.

Day 29
They climbed uphill out of the mist
and walked the ridge all day;
the thirteen miles to Cosby Knob,
a rocky, lovely way.

Day 30
Mountain Mama's burgers beckon
so down the hill they roll.
Goodbye to Don and "Coffee Cup"
(the AT takes its toll).

Day 31
To Max Patch Bald from Davenport
he hiked his weary way
hoping for his Hot Springs mail
by morning Saturday.

Day 32
The Deer Park Shelter welcomed him
with cracks between the slats.
He dined on mac as storms blew in,
and swept away the gnats.

Day 33
He hustled into Hot Springs next
(his check was in the mail),
but banks are closed on Saturdays--
the plan was doomed to fail.

Day 34
Up Lovers Leap he climbed from town
his legs, they felt like lead;
the hostel stay had been too brief
to help him clear his head.

Day 35
The Smokies quagmire came to mind
atop Bearwallow Gap;
once more he found himself bogged down
knee deep in mush and c--p.

Day 36
He stumbled up to Hogback Ridge
dehydrated and squiggly;
"Bigfoot" was there, and "Doobie Bros."
and so was Senor Wiggly.

Day 37
The mind, it said, "Press onward, son!"
The body said, "you lie!"
He stayed on at Bald Mountain and
ate strawberry pie.

Day 38
To Erwin-town from Bald Mountain
he bumbled, worry-free,
then "Kampfire" drove him one last mile
to tent at NCG.

Day 39
Laundry! Groceries! All you can eat!
The "town-suck" had its way.
The measly mile from bridge to camp
was all he walked that day.

Day 40
Unaka Mountain's hemlock crest
turned daylight into night:
of all the things the Worm had seen,
the least expected sight.

Day 41
He stepped and stumbled all day long
aspiring to Roan Mount,
but finally crashed at the Gap of Ash
his toes too tired to count.

Day 42
The views were fine from Roan and balds,
beneath a hazy sun,
though rocky, rutted, rooty trails
made the hike no fun.

Day 43
The Worm's "slackpack" to Dennis Cove
left feet and calves a-sore-a.
But fire and food and hostlery
awaited at "Kincorra."

Day 44 REFRAIN (Day off, Kincorra Hostel, Dennis Cove)
The Worm went South to Springer Mount,
burning all his bridges;
his next six months a series of
Appalachian Ridges.

Day 45
Through Laurel Gorge and up Pond Mount.
Damascus? Three days short.
Worm's off the trail now, visiting home.
Back on next week, old sport.

Day 48
From 301 a rested Worm
(now three days off the Trail)
returned to find it just as hard
(he thought his feets would fail).

Day 49
At Vandeventer he delayed
hoping rain would pass
but then he hiked, and slipped, and fell
and landed on his a--.

Day 50
From Double Spring he double-timed:
Damascus for the night;
he was so busy hurrying
he never saw the light.

Day 51
He left at noon, his spirits high
(and his pack weight way down!),
but hitch-hiked back from six miles out
(forgot his pants in town).

Day 52
Out of Damascus one more time
he crept upon the Creeper
(there were two pathways out, you see,
but one of them was steeper).

Day 53
He braved the crowds at Lost Mountain
out for Memorial Day
and met a ride at Elk Garden
that whisked him clean away

Day 54 REFRAIN (off trail -- Memorial Day)
The Worm went South to Springer Mount,
burning all his bridges;
his next six months a series of
Appalachian Ridges.

Day 55
Back on the Trail, for good this time,
the rain came pelting down.
Four dreary miles to Thomas Knob
the price of beds in town.

Day 56
The Highlands were fogged in all day
and so he skipped the loop,
arriving in at Raccoon Branch
with "Shaman" and his group.

Day 57
The bear was grubbing near a stump
when Rhymin' Worm espied him.
Who startled whom? Each hurried off
with nervous looks beside him.

Day 58
From sublime to ridiculous
(to Atkins from Mt. Rogers)
the highland trekkers sound found that
they'd become cow-pie dodgers.

Day 59
Valley hopping fourteen miles
from Groseclose on to Knot Maul,
he hoped his throbbing shin would mend
and his arches wouldn't fall.

Day 60
On muddy trails to Chestnut Knob
his boots they leaked like sieves;
that night the rain came rattling down
like pebbles on the eaves.

Day 61
The walk to Jenkins looked a breeze,
but soon began to harden;
the way was snake-beset! But that
is natural for the Garden.

Day 62
He hiked in Tevas through Wolf Creek
before the inundation
then took a Bland day off for rest
and recuperation.

Day 63 REFRAIN (Day off, Bland)
The Worm went South to Springer Mount,
burning all his bridges;
his next six months a series of
Appalachian Ridges.

Day 64
His ankle healed he went for Trent's
despite gray clouds that rolled;
the grass was green there, sun came out,
late afternoon turned gold.

Day 65
A long slow day to Sugar Run
to stay with Tillie Wood,
whose floors were hard and loft was cold;
but breakfast sure was good!

Day 66
He resupplied and then skipped town
exhausting every erg.
As Bogart said to Ingrid, "We'll
always have Paris, Berg."

Day 67
The Worm woke feeling low this day
so was it colds or flus?
Most likely diagnosis was:
them dread Virginia Blues.

Day 68
Both Pine Swamp Branch and Yogi Cat
he left twelve miles behind,
and met again "St. Louis Dan"
(a hod man's good to find).

Day 69
Six rainy miles he walked before
finally bailing out,
but met again some more old friends--
like "Jiggs" and "Kilgore Trout."

Day 70
His feet complained on Sinking Creek
with every step he planted;
that night he saw the reason why:
both of them were now slanted.

Day 71
Cove Mountain Rocks and Dragon's teeth
were more than he could take.
He camped behind Catawba Gro.
and savored every ache.

Day 72
The clouds and rain he walked through were
the price he had to pay
for views from up on Tinker Cliffs
that took the breath away.

Day 73
A long wet cold Spring slid into
warm Summer like a snail.
And just in time! His lightweight bag
was in the Troutville mail.

Day 74 REFRAIN -- (Day off, Troutville)
The Worm went South to Springer Mount,
burning all his bridges;
his next six months a series of
Appalachian Ridges.

Day 75
Cleaned up and stuffed and resupplied,
they dropped him off at three;
he groaned uphill to Fullhardt Knob
bereft of energy.

Day 76
New boots and blisters bewitched his feet
with spells both black and blue.
But Merlyn's sodas at Boblett's Gap
applied trail magic too.

Day 77
Dehydrated and feeling low
at Bryant Ridge's hall,
a nonstop-talking day hiker
drove him up the wall.

Day 78
On Apple Orchard thunder rolled
and rain came down in rills.
He hunkered down at Thunder Ridge
with headache and the chills.

Day 79
At last the "dark side" had its way:
he turned to yellow blazing;
his guts were rumbling like a drum
and how his head was crazing.

Day 80
Two nights at Wildwood Campground spent,
six meals at Parkway Diner,
he left on Saturday improved
but wished he felt still finer.

Day 81
From Punchbowl crossing he walked north
down to the swimming holes,
and then uphill to Cow Camp Gap
where gnats snacked on his soles.

Day 82
The talk was all of Rusty's place,
and what they'd do in town.
The Worm confessed sins to The Priest
and laid his body down.

Day 83
Three Riges Mountain wasn't fun
for all its white blaze virtue.
The trail seemed meant to trip you up,
the rocks were there to hurt you.

Day 84
Hard Time Hollow, it was said,
remained an AT must.
He thought it past its glory days,
now giving in to Rust.

Day 85
New socks and maps in Waynesboro
and camping at the "Y";
a horrid meal of Chinese food
made him think he'd die.

Day 86
Into the Shenandoah Park
he hiked an easy day.
He lost his shirt and burnt his back
ere his Calf Mountain stay.

Day 87
He made his way to Riprap Rocks
to meet his love again;
dinner in town, the Batman flick
made him remember when.

Day 88
Eight tents per lot--they bent the rules
(no ranger made a call);
'twas better to have Loft and left
than never Loft at all.

Day 89
All fourteen miles to Hightop Hut
the trail was rich with deer;
rain was threatening all day long
after a week of clear.

Day 90
He staggered into Big Meadows
too late to make the meal;
his twenty miles of soggy slog
left him unfit to feel.

Day 91
Breaking a fast at one cafe
and lunching at another--
his slackpack to Pass Mountain Hut
fed him like a mother.

Day 92
Just thirteen miles to Gravel Springs--
at last! an easy day!
The deer were many and he saw
a bobcat on the way.

Day 93
No fireworks when he left the Park,
and cleaned up in Front Royal;
the trail had (h)emptied out to view
the Washington turmoil.

Day 94
The Shenandoah's hiking waves
had left him slightly see-sick;
north of the Park he floated where
the roofs are geodesic.

Day 95
The PUD highway to the Bear's Den
(en route to Harpers Ferry)
was worth it due to greetings there
by Messrs. Ben & Jerry.

Day 96
His feet were sore and so he stopped
at Blackburn for the night;
spaghetti and a free soda
made everything seem right.

Day 97
Two weeks behind and losing time
he came to Harpers Ferry;
another five days off the trail--
the prospect was quite scary.

Days 98-101 REFRAIN (home to NC for family reasons)
The Worm went South to Springer Mount,
burning all his bridges;
his next six months a series of
Appalachian Ridges.

Day 102
The ranks of hikers "off the trail"
ballooned at Harpers Ferry.
Both strong and weak, and old and young:
the implication scary.

Day 103
From Dahlgren Campground, 18 miles
in hundred-degree weather
left the Rhymin' Worm dried out, like
cracked and brittle leather.

Day 104
"Too hot to hoot" was the complaint
of palindromic owls.
Too hot to hike! A p.m. nap
did wonders for his scowls.

Day 105
From Tumbling Run, so neatly kept,
to mid-day pizza gorging,
to Quarry Gap (another gem)
the Worm kept onward forging.

Day 106
He spent his birthday on the trail
(that's number thirty-nine)
with visions of an ice-cream feast
on which he planned to dine.

Day 107
From hostel hell at PGF,
to Boiling Springs's bridge,
hello to Allegheny land,
Good-bye to the Blue Ridge.

Day 108
From rocks to valleys, the terrain,
in Pennsylvania varies;
he walkeed across the Cumberland
picking ripe raspberries.

Day 109
He said goodbye in Boiling Springs
to Ralph and his Boy Scouts,
then Darlington to Duncannon
to meet the Doyle's dropouts.

Day 110
"Bigfoot" was there, as was "D-Bear"
with "Icebox" -- Worm made four--
four of the eight who plugged Neels Gap
only four months before.

Day 111
The news: 'tween Peters Mountain and Rausch Gap
a bear stole Bigfoot's pack.
Despite hard rain, Worm spent the miles
looking behind his back.

Day 112
The cold rain made him sluggish, and
his gear was soggy too,
so he trundled on a mere three miles
to the hostel blazed "bleu."

Day 113
"Them's my rocks," said William Penn.
"How d'you like 'em now, boy?
You needn't be from Texas, see?
to be a talus cowboy."

Day 114
A rusty well at 501
had set his heart a-burning,
so when he stopped at Eagle's Nest
his stomach was a-churning.

Day 115
Descending into Clinton-Port,
the way was steep and rocky.
All night the trucks on 61
were playing highway hockey.

Day 116
He struggled over rocks and stones
ascendng to the Pinnacle;
the smooth road down to Eckville House
made him somewhat less cynical.

Day 117
Trail bikes and trash, a nude hiker
and graying tourist folk--
trammeled in by suburban sprawl
"wilderness" was a joke.

Day 118
His biggest day--two dozen miles--
plus scrambling out of Lehigh:
he pushed towards the Water Gap
to bid PA "goodbye."

Day 119
The walk down to the Delaware
convinced him that "rocks suck."
Thank heaven for the food and folks
at the church pot-luck!

Day 120 REFRAIN (Day off, Delaware Water Gap)
The Worm went South to Springer Mount,
burning all his bridges;
his next six months a series of
Appalachian Ridges.

Day 121
His best "Trail Magic" of the hike
awaited at Mohican--
the AMC's Delaware group
stuffed him till he was leakin'.

Day 122
The fourteen miles to Brink Shelter
was rocky, hot and slow,
until a p.m. thunderstorm
soaked him head to toe.

Day 123
He shaked (and baked) to Worthington's
where donuts were still warm,
then to High Point Shelter and
a drizzling summer storm.

Day 124
Descending to the Walkill Flats--
a sea of birds and bushes --
then over Pochunk to an inn,
he slowly northward pushes.

Day 125
Like a slug (engorged on too much fruit)
he crept from Heaven Hill
to Waywayanda: just ten miles,
but had hiked his fill.

Day 126
The ridges sprouted skyscrapers
just east of Prospect Rock;
his Empire State traverse began
with this scenic shock.

Day 127
The deer complained at Mombasha,
snorting through the night,
then to Brien through Harriman
fighting the rock fight.

Day 128
He bottomed out at Bear Mountain
feeling tired and hairy.
The goodly Graymoor friars offered
food and sanctuary.

Day 129
Northeast to RPH he made his way,
all motivation shot;
"Trip" wobbled in near midnight, buzzed
with Trail Magic he'd got.

Day 130
A pizza break at 52
improved his hiking stroke.
He pushed on to West Dover Road
to see the ancient oak.

Day 131
Just south of Kent his boots gave out.
He patched them up with duct tape.
With new shoes due in four more days
Tevas were his last escape.

Day 132
Hooked on Housatonics, and soaked
by rain, to Kent he fled--
seduced by laundry, dinner and
a comfortable bed.

Day 133
Mosquito swarms at Pine Swamp Brook
soon chased him to his tent;
they sucked him dry when nature called
no matter how fast he went.

Day 134
A maildrop in Salisbury-town
brought him food and shoes,
so he could stop replaying those
"Delamination Blues."

Day 135 REFRAIN (day off, Salisbury area)
The Worm went South to Springer Mount,
burning all his bridges;
his next six months a series of
Appalachian Ridges.

Day 136
On Race Mountain the rain came down
obscuring the Taconics.
He slipped on rocks three times that day.
So who needs high colonics?

Day 137
Great Barrington's small outfitter
provided a new watch--
a month of timeless travel was
about all he could notch.

Day 138
To Goose Pond from Leonard Lean-to,
a twenty-one mile day--
a grungy hut and kooky host
took something from the stay.

Day 139
The hike was flat to Kay Wood's place,
'cross swampy mountain bogs:
no deer or bear or coyotes,
but plenty of tree frogs.

Day 140
He hit both Dalton and cheese-town,
for a restaurant food-fest,
and stayed in Mary's rec room
for a good Catholic rest.

Day 141
Greylock was gray, with foggy hair,
and crowds upon the top.
He pushed on through to Sherman's Brook;
that night it rained non-stop.

Day 142
Into the Ben & Jerry's state
and on to Bennington,
to meet an old friend at her home:
next day he would walk on.

Day 143
Glastonbury's views were vast, the
air cool with autumn's hoar;
he slipped down rocky steps and watched
the moon rise at Kid Gore.

Day 144
Up Stratton Mountain with no skis
he skipped the warming hut;
at Stratton Pond a section hiker
psalmed until his eyes shut.

Day 145
Into the outlet town he hitched
looking for some healing;
the prospect of a day off there
gave him a good feeling.

Day 146 REFRAIN (Day off, Episcopal church hostel in Manchester Center)
The Worm went South to Springer Mount,
burning all his bridges;
his next six months a series of
Appalachian Ridges.

Day 147
Bromley and Peru were steep,
the campsite charged a fee,
the caretaker was absent, though--
it rained, but Worm stayed free.

Day 148
"Mossman," "Tonic," "Broken Arrow,"
hiked with him to Greenwall;
at Little Rock Pond cliff jumpers splashed,
then rainpoured on them all.

Day 149
Up Killington to Gov. Clement
he felt all out of kilter;
he found a Pepsi at the camp
but lost his water filter.

Day 150
The Guinness at the Long Trail Inn
was chilled exactly right;
they camped in woods next to Kent Pond;
it rained again that night.

Day 151
The next day had its ups and downs,
though they weren't in a hurry;
those fifteen miles were plenty, though,
before they reached Winturi.

Day 152
Quinn the Steeplejack took them in
and slacked them to West Hartford;
a beer run into Woodstock and
a dry barn when the rain poured.

Day 153
They slacked again to Hanover
(a short cruise into town);
"Kadiddle's" feast was at Dan Quinn's--
'twas late 'fore all lay down.

Day 154 A sluggish morning at the barn--
their ride left after noon:
Worm left the others in H-town
and walked out none too soon.

Day 155
The Whites were in the offing as
he hiked to Trapper John,
recovering from a chilly night
(his summer gear still on).

Day 156
Dartmouth freshmen filled the trails
enroute to Hexacuba;
packed in with roudy kids, he felt
like sardines in a tuba.

Day 157
He met the southbound Kilgore Trout
just north of Glencliff, late.
They camped at pondside, talked at length,
to bring each up to date.

Day 158
Into the Whites, with winter gear,
he humped up Moosilauke;
the views were fine at Beaver Brook
although the way was rocky.

Day 159
Over Mount Wolf he slopped and was
quite glad when it was done,
then scrambled over Kinsman Ridge:
exhilarating fun.

Day 160
A five-mile rock hop to the Flume
from Kinsman Pond he took,
then into town to resupply
and clean his grimy look.

Day 161
The bouquet left for "Gator Boy"
froze up on Lafayette,
whose peak he never would ascend--
the wind was sighing yet.

Day 162
Mist and rain on Garfield Ridge
made for a soggy night.
He moose-bog walked to Ethan Pond
in afternoon sunlight.

Day 163
Mizpah Hut was packed brim-full,
no "work for stay" to get;
he tented at the Naumann Camp
and wound up getting wet.

Day 164
He spent the next day scrambling
on Presidential rocks;
the views were more inspiring
than Bigfoot's holy socks.

Day 165
At Pinkham Notch the lunchtime game
was "stuffyourfacerealfast,"
then scramble over Wildcat Ridge
to Carter Notch at last.

Day 166
He left the Whites by blazing blue
down into Greater Gorham,
where hikers had a paradise
and Bruno to deplore 'em.

Day 167 REFRAIN (Day off, Gorham)
The Worm went South to Springer Mount,
burning all his bridges;
his next six months a series of
Appalachian Ridges.

Day 168
He slackpacked south to town again
inspired by bearlike Bruce;
Mahoosuc miles weren't easy, though,
nor did he see a moose.

Day 169
The famous Notch and Arm of the
Mahoosucs left him bloody;
in Maine at last, he crshed at speck,
to tired to read or study.

Day 170
The rain and wind from Canada
left him wet and cold--
seven miles to Baldpate lean-to
all that he could hold.

Day 171
Up on Baldpate the ice and sleet
were all that he could handle;
he hitched to Andover to find
a Bed & Breakfast candle.

Day 172
A slackpack day improved his legs
but didn't help his mood:
back to Pine Ellis for more sleep
and more Andover food.

Day 173
He slacked again over Old Blue,
but all he saw was gray,
then hitchhiked into Oquossoc
('bout freezing on the way).

Day 174
One last slack day, south thirteen miles
from 4 to 17;
he lost his camera with the film
of the three moose he'd seen.

Day 175
Burdened again but much refreshed
he tackled Saddleback,
where "Mile-High Mike" (once off the Trail)
was hiking south with pack.

Day 176
From Crocker's Cirque to Horn Pond Camp
he stumbled, slipped, and fell;
despite good weather, his Maine hike
was still a little hell.

Day 177
Across the Bigelows he saw,
far in the haze, Katahdin--
reminding him he neared the end
of six months' steady plodding.

Day 178
The rainy way to Pierce Pond was
unrelenting dreary,
but it was flat! And Monson neared!
That made him feel more cheery.

Day 179
His fording of the Kennebec
was by canoe (not wade-y);
he camped at Pleasant Pond but missed
the fabled Cookie Lady.

Day 180
'Cross Moxie Bald in snow flurries
he braved a cold Maine breeze;
at the esker near Bald Mountain Stream
he camped beneath dead trees.

Day 181
His seventh month on the AT
and he walked into Monson,
and dinner at the Pie Lady's
(real meatloaf! not Swanson).

Day 182 REFRAIN (Day off at Shaw's Boarding House)
The Worm went South to Springer Mount,
burning all his bridges;
his next six months a series of
Appalachian Ridges.

Day 183
Entering the Hundred Miles
his backpack weighed a ton.
He'd constantly remind himself
that he was having fun.

Day 184
Over the Barren Chairback range
the shelters were quite crowded,
but worse, the weather was still cold,
Katahdin's skies were clouded.

Day 185
Worm saw "The Greatest Mountain" late
while on Gulf Hagas Hill;
at Tappan Campsite winds blew fierce--
his solitude was chill.

Day 186
With "Numb" and "Stoutheart" and "Not Yet"
he rounded White Cap's bald
to see Katahdin's splendor and
the long walk's end, which called.

Day 187
Under blue skies, through dazzling leaves
they sprinted through the lowlands
and camped by Nahmatanka Lake
upon the gravel shore sands.

Day 188
Gray skies again by Rainbow Lake
which brooded clear and deep.
Just one more trail day waited them--
the loons sang them to sleep.

Day 189
"Indian Summer" made them sweat
the day's walk in the park.
No one slept well that night: they lay
there anxious in the dark.

Day 190
Then Saturday dawned clear and cold:
the end of the endeavor.
He reached the peak with bloody knees,
but he could see forever.

REFRAIN
The Worm went South to Springer Mount,
burning all his bridges;
his next six months a series of
Appalachian Ridges.