Tim Seaver
Well-known member
Cath on the Upper Airline
'Twas the Hike after Christmas, when all through the Whites
The baggers were stirring, and donning their tights;
With stockings so new and packs full of stuff,
The Mean Girls were feeling unusually tough
Their screws were nestled all snug in their treads,
While visions of rime ice danced in their heads
We met at the Cog, cars one, two and three,
(where it is rumored, the coffee is "FREE")
The weather was fine, the winds now light
To Appalachia they dashed, through snow so white
The cops were many, the moose in thickets
but Cath avoided, new speeding tickets
At the lot we arrived, the cars we did park
Hoping to arrive not long after dark
(No parking lot fee, or Forestry Pass
would prevent a trip home on a seat full of glass)
They hit the trail, these six happy hikers,
Peak baggers, ass draggers, and goofers...all pikers!
"Now, Drew! now, Adam! now, Cath and Rick!
On, MEB! on Tim! Lets try to move quick!
To the top of the peak! to the Madison summit!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away by gummit!"
With each passing step, they tried to forget
Their Holiday traumas were dissolved by sweat
The dry heaves that after, the Xmas brunch linger,
The regrets at giving, Aunt Em the finger,
Ridiculous gifts, that by the handfull,
Would surely be taken, soon to the landfill
So up to the Mad Hut the coursers they flew,
With packs full of toys, and weird tasting Gu.
And then, in a twinkling, we saw on the trail
Traces of Mats and Frodo's snowshoe tail
MSR is seems, was their chosen brand
With Lightning and Denali, they made their stand
They climbed the peak, well before us
our lateness explained as the "Hangover Chorus"
We laughed, we hooted, the snow we did mash
To the Hut where the tourons lay down their cash
It's closure insured, that no Cidiots today
would be clogging the peak with perfumed hairspray
So to the summit we went, and then came back
To the septic system, and propane rack
Adams was next, where there was no doubt
The Mean Girls would utter a gleeful shout
Their spreadsheets were handy, and spirits alive
For ascent #3244, (or was that 3245?)
Their eyes -- how they twinkled! and dimples - how merry!
To summit these peaks on a day so cherry!
Then down to the junction where Thunderstorms roar
Where the group of six hikers soon became four
The Drewski and Adam took off down the way
Back to the Valley, enough for today!
Jefferson called, it's flanks - they beckoned
We'd get there before dark, or so we reckoned
The surface was firm, at times, even dicey
The conversation continued, at times, so spicy!
Over the top, and down to Sphinx
Then around Clay, where we finally blinked
Encroaching clouds gathered, and swallowed the sun
Another day, my friends, for Washing-ton.
Down the Jewell we tromped, with bright lights on head
Envisoning feasts and a warm cozy bed
The hike was a blast, and the company fine,
And at last I have reached, the end of the line!
More pictures here
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