Wolf Creek Pass

by C. W. McCall (1928-)

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's 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'
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
of 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 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 pretty:
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 Lousiana swamp.

Went down and around and around and down
'til we run outta ground at the edge of town
and 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