Given the choice, I'll always take the trail
Towards the lofty ridges
Where the winds brush the pines long needles
And timber rattler's hide
Where it's colder, steeper, riskier and the path
That's place I chose to ride
Along canyon rim where the coyote trots
And he hunts for his harried dinner
Where I am riding at eye-ball level with a
Hawk on a thermal glide
If there's cow escapin' the flies and heat
Or a bull loungin' like an unrepentant sinner
If you need a cowgirl to head up there
Then, you've tricked into believein' you see it all
And there's something about just sharing the air
Up there where the ELK herd graze
Guess you could say, I'm a high ridge runner
Down deep in my simple little heart.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Lovely When I was growing up I lived in Alberta and this brought back childhood memories