Snoqualmie Pass

Up, on a Pass in Kittitas County, A young man on his horse takes a high country ride.

Up a trail that is rocky, with hanging vine maples, and hemlocks so wide.

The gentian is quiet. The stillness is heard.

The creek still laughing, but can’t say a word.

The woodpecker no tapping. The thrush has no song.

The cones, they fall silent. The squirrel sees no wrong.

The scat of the black bear is seen on the trail.

The tracks of the coon where no people prevail.

Snoqualmie! I love you. People of the Moon.

No longer you live here. You all died too soon.

I never did meet you. I never could say.

This place that you left me. I cherish today.

Up, on a Pass in Kittitas County, A young man on his horse takes a high country ride.

Up a trail that is rocky, with violets so blue, chipmunks that chatter and hide.

The freeway cuts through it with thousands of cars.

Closed in by the traffic, a jail without bars.

As I climb towards the sky, I’m free from all that.

The trail, it gets steeper, hang on to your hat.

Climbing higher, away from machines,

My horse doesn’t whinny. I’m lost in my dreams.

Snoqualmie! I love you. People of the Moon.

No longer you live here. You all died too soon.

I never did meet you. I never could say.

This place that you left me. I cherish today.

Up, on a Pass In Kittitas County, A young man on his horse takes a high country ride.

Up a trail that is rocky, with both legs astride, chickadees call as my guide.

Down gentle comes the rain. Like tears shed from the sky.

The wetness softens even me, a guy who hates to cry.

I come in winter for the snow. The dangers then I even know.

In an avalanche be carried. Down the mountain ‘til you’re buried.

Lost forever, never found. The snow protects you from the ground.

Mother Nature’s children are, from her bosom never far.

Snoqualmie! I love you. People of the Moon.

No longer you live here. You all died too soon.

I never did meet you. I never could say.

This place that you left me. I cherish today.