LOST CREEK

The dude ride was scheduled
for half past nine,
but the wranglers were running
a little behind.

The dudes were all gathered
so clean and so shiny,
some big and some tall,
some short and some tiny.

Lew’s group of riders
were eight members strong.
So eager and trusting --
they all went along.

Descending the hill
to Lost Creek below,
the willows were calling,
and the riders did go.

The trails were abundant,
or so it appeared,
but once in the willows
they all disappeared.

Instead there was mud
and bog and manure.
Quite a bit like what
you’d find in a sewer.

They circled and backtracked
to find a way out.
And some folks got lost
and just wandered about.

Their horses got nervous.
Their horses got stuck.
The riders got splattered
with black gooey muck.

It was a ride to remember
in Lost Creek that day,
when eight naive riders
were led so astray.

Their wrangler was sorry
and ever so humble
for the mud and the muck
which had made them all mumble.

But the riders were happy
with their ride through the goo.
It seemed like something
they wanted to do.

So in the future all guests
at this dude ranch each week
will experience a tour
in the sewer of Lost Creek.

7/3/92

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Dedicated to Homer and Diane Williams, and their son Even, from Columbus, Ohio, who survived this ride
and continued to return to Aspen Canyon Ranch every summer for the next 10 years.