Rocky Mountain National Park on a Monday Night

We were lost on a mountain in freezing cold gales.
We tried to camp out, but our tent blew like sails.
We hiked down through the trees,
Dying flashlight, bruised knees.
Stick around, I will tell you our tales!


Luke and I headed out with our gear in our packs.
Upbeat spirits, heads high, 30 pounds on our backs.
We climbed up past the trees,
We reached ice and cold breeze,
Through the snow we left clear, happy tracks.

Four hours had passed when we spotted our camp.
We were cold, it was windy, our layers were damp.
Every foot step would sink,
Keep on moving, don't think.
An hour more through the snow we were destined to tramp.

Our camp was twelve thousand eight hundred feet high,
Quickly set up our tent with grand hopes to stay dry.
But the tent shook and quivered,
Huddled inside we shivered.
Should we stay? Not a choice but to try.

We tried to hold out for it soon would be dark,
The 6-mile hike down not a walk in the park.
But the tent flew apart,
Now no choice but depart!
Or our chance of survival would be mighty stark.

Trusty Mag Lite in hand, Ziploc bags on our feet -
Our attempt to stay warm and conserve body heat.
Snow had covered our track,
But we had to get back
“To the tree line! Or else we’re dead meat.”

Lost our trail, found a creek and knew that was the way,
To get off of that mountain and live through the day!
Hiked down through the wood,
Found the trail! Knew we could!
At a sign post we realized we’d gone the wrong way.

Our Mag Lite was dying and we were still far.
Three a.m., set up camp by the light of a star.
Toss the food in a tree
So no bear bothers me,
And at day break, hike down to our Ford rental car.

In the morning we hiked with the glee of a child.
We were tired and dirty, but nine miles was mild!
Nature punched, kicked, and battered
But none of that mattered -
We’d been schooled by Bear Grylls watching Man vs. Wild.

We reached the car by midday, had had more than enough
Of wind burn and sun burn and other rough stuff.
Now you know, we're not dense!
We gathered more common sense:
Trust your instinct, go back when the going's too tough.