I don't like to brag
But I’m kinda proud of that ragged old pack.
You see, we got a little hole in that strap there when
I took it across the Idaho Sawtooths.
And it got powder-burned the evening I shot that doe with the muzzleloader.
And it kept my food dry in Michigan, Kentucky, and Illinois. It fell from a tree in Maine.
It was with when my kids took their 1st wild game.
She was there with Rick and I in Texas, Kansas and Canada.
On the back 40 with Dad and I while she carried the gear and with Tom and I every November.
She took the cold and heat in Minnesota and Louisiana.
She hung limp until I found a repair rope in the fields of Maryland.
She was in Washington, South Carolina, Indiana, Ohio, and Colorado.
She went in the river in New Mexico.
She traveled to the South and the North and West into Old Mexico.
And it’s always came back here at home, with me.
In her own good way; she's been abused
She's been burned, dishonored, denied, and refused
by the weather for which she hangs.
She is getting threadbare and wearing thin
But she's in good shape for the shape she's in
'Cause she's been through this all before
And I believe she can take a whole lot more
So I take her straps every morning I go.
On second thought,
I do like to brag
'Cause I'm mighty proud of that ragged old Pack! Call worn or Pink!
