The Long Trail

September 09, 2023

The Long Trail

"There's a whisper down the field where the year has shot her yield...

And it's time to turn on the old trail, our own trail, the out trail,

Pull out, pull out, on the Long Trail - the trail that is always new!

It's North you may run to the rime-ringed sun

Or South to the blind Horn's hate;

Or East all the way into Mississippi Bay,

Or West to the Golden Gate -

Where the blindest bluffs hold good, dear lass,

And the wildest tales are true,

And the men bulk big on the old trail, our own trail, the out trail

And life runs large on the Long Trail - the trail that is always new...

As she ships it green on the old trail, our own trail, the out trail,

As she lifts and 'scends on the Long Trail - the trail that is always new...

For we're booming down on the old trail, our own trail, the out trail

We're sagging south on the Long Trail - the trail that is always new...

They're all old friends on the old trail, our own trail, the out trail...

And we're back once more on the old trail, our own trail, the out trail,

We're down, hull-down, on the Long Trail - the trail that is always new!"

Rudyard Kipling's poem The Long Trail has nothing to do with riding the trail, it is about rolling the swells, following the currents of sea and air, trails across the oceans. It works both ways though, skimming across the deep blue, or across the plains and mountainsides; the search for adventure is what they have in common.

Hope your weekend is going well. Maybe there is even some adventure in it - search it out!