Bill May: Where the Old West skis
December 31, 2006
Steamboat SpringsSteamboat Springs — Yes, friend, I'm a native — Yes, friend, I'm a native
Steamboat Springs — Yes, friend, I’m a native
And I’ve sure seen some change
In our old mountain village
And out on the range.
For the wagon-road trail
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Is now a four-lane.
And instead of a stagecoach
Folks now ride a plane.
To the little white school
On my pony I went.
Now kids on a school bus
To town school are sent.
And our steers to the railroad
We used to trail each fall
But now diesel trucks
All the cattle do haul.
Yet there’s things that’s no different
Like the rain and the snow
The green grass of summer,
The sunset’s red glow.
The aspen-clad mountain,
The smell of the pines,
The wail of the coyote,
The river that winds.
And then in the winter
Horses pull our big sleigh
So we still feed our cattle
In the old-fashioned way.
Cowboys on horses
Still round up the cows
And a cheery wood fire
Still warms up the house.
And then there is skiing
Which we did long ago,
For that’s how we traveled
And played in the snow.
Our sled roads in winter
Weren’t used then by cars
And the skier on the mountain
Set his course by the stars.
Now, the mail stage driver
Never uses a sled,
But in the old days
He might have been dead
If it weren’t for his skis
When his horses got down
And he used the old hickories
To make it to town.
The skis were called snowshoes
In those early days
And the deeds performed on ’em
Sure deserve praise
For that’s how the mail
Got over the hill
And the doctor got on ’em
To go check on the ill.
Then came a stonemason
Carl Howelsen by name
Taught the kids here ski-
jumping
And they jumped into fame.
We kids who rode horses
To school, at recess
Always pulled skiers
In a playful speed test.
But instead of snow parties
Enjoyed by a few
Carl the Norseman
Started something quite new.
A community “fest”
Where the whole town turned out
And we ski-jored on Main Street
How the people did shout.
So now we keep playing
On skis yet today
Like Carl said folks did
In Norge far away.
So lots of old customs
Here keep living on
Amid all the changes
And thus ends my song.