Whispers & Shadows

How the West was won

I yearn for the days of the dust blown haze,
When the West was an infant child.
When the brave, the few, joined lots and threw
Their cares to the wind and the wild.

Through bone-weary pain, through mud and rain,
They traveled, a-trustin’ God.
As dear-loved kin and many a friend
Were set to rest in the sod.

“On to Californ'”, “On to Oregon,”
Through ruts worn weary and long.
‘cross rivers deep, scant rest or sleep,
Passed this destined, fateful throng.

On mules, in prairie schooners;
On buckboards ‘n walkin’ tall; 
Through Indian lands, their fate in the hands
Of the wagonmaster’s call.

Through prairie grass, up mountain pass,
They journed toward the Promise Land.
‘n along the way, set adrift, they lay
Their past in the shifting sand.

No turning back, thru rut and track,
The wagon train moved on,
Toward the western sky, with dream-filled eye,
On the trail to a brand new dawn.

Yet to this day, do the brave there stay!
Born new from the pioneer age.
A dream fulfilled, as God had willed,
Past the land of the purple sage.

And oh what I’d give to have journed…’n lived
On that trail with those brave and strong.
Now history, times wild and free,
For those days do I yearn and long.


Those were the days, e’er time-dimmed haze,
When the West was an infant child.
When the brave, the few, joined lots and threw
Their cares to the wind and the wild.

*I was raised in the Ozarks Highlands of Missouri, near the grand “Big Muddy”. A spur, one of many in the overland trail system, once passed by our place. I can remember dad oft showing me, with a far away glint, an old rock post that was part of a hitching rail along that historic old trail. Ahh! When we would talk about those bygone days, would I long for them. That was a child, and in the mind’s eye of a child. That childhood memory still resides and is alive and well in the mind’s eye of this old man, and here, finally, after all these years, is the humbling proof of it!

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Reproduction, in any form, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review, is an infringement of copyright.


A Very Special Day – 09/26/2019

Is mysterious adventure not always intriguing!

Twenty one years ago today I climbed Sagamook, a majestic mountain few know anything about or have ever even heard of.
At my blog, go to Odyssey ’98. Then look up:
Saturday—September 26, 1998
Trail Day—253/13
Trail Mile—3783/221
Location—Park Offices, Mt. Carleton Provincial Park, NB Canada (my northbound ECT trek)
Here, you’ll read the account of my experience that day on Sagamook, how I became spellbound by the mystic, captivating nature of that mountain.
And Flagg Mountain? It, too, mysteriously attracts us–for it emits a form of energy much as does Sagamook. I was inescapably drawn here to Flagg on December 14th, the year 2000 (during my southbound ECT trek). That day I leaned against the stone tower, as I wept with my head cradled in my arms. It was then I realized that someday I’d be compelled to return to Flagg. I knew not when or for what reason.
Ah, and so now you see, I did return! For many days past, and for this day, here I remain–on Flagg Mountain…
God Bless,

Travels with “Eb”

Another throwback video for your enjoyment!

“M.J. Eberhart goes by the handle Nimblewill Nomad on the trail. Depending on who you talk to he also goes by Sunny or Eb. He’s hiked all 11 National Scenic Trails – that’s a total of nearly 19,000 miles.” BLMOREGON

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