I met an old man in the slickrock land, The rock and the water looked alot like his hands. My float down the river had turned into a hike, And I wanted to be at Hole In The Rock by night. So I asked him for a lift. I was looking tired, I think. But all he said was "Maybe.", and then "Have a drink.". As he pulled out the bottle, my eyes opened wide, His whisky and his smile made me know I'd get my ride. But first we'd have some dinner, telling stories of canyon days, I told him of Paria and he told me of The Maze. He told me how he loved the land, being big and wild and free, We wondered if, in a hundred years, a place like this could be. Well I camped there one more night under the desert sounds and stars, I knew that on the following day, I'd be dealing with traffic and cars. So I savored this night and the company there, out on the edge of the wild, Already planning the next desert trip, after floating and hiking for miles.
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