George Holcomb Prosser Collection
9 North Fork


Now, Pisgah Forest has good roads,
To famed North Fork they go,

And tourists passing do not pause
'Twould stop the traffic flow.


We made that trek when roads were tracks
That wheels had cut thru years,

We forded streams and rushed high banks,
Our cars in lowest gears.


We'd been in there the week before,

The fishing sure was fine,
The neighbors said we should corne back,

At huckleberry time.


'Twas raining as we crept along,

And at a slippery bump,
The Studie stuck, it could not go,

Where Bill's Ford crossed the hump.


The women and the kids got out,

To help, or give advice,
Bill and his boys got set to push,

The mud was slick and nice.


I poured the gasoline to her then

A heading up the track
As I tore up that slippery slide

To stall and then slip back.


Oh, Jack was Just a nipper then,

And sure he could push far,
But in the mud his bare foot slipped

Beneath the rolling car.


They dragged him out, washed off the mud,
I'll swear my heart had stopped,

But bones were whole and kid? are tough,
My fears were just a flop.


We finally made that red clay slope,

To camp beside a barn,
And round the campfire thanked our stars,

We all were safe from harm.


Next day we fished and loafed along
That splendid mountain stream,

The kids went wading, women talked,
And kept the camp quite clean.


The huckleberry folks came in
To Shining Rock  they'd been,

And they were loaded heavily,
As I have ever seen.