Home Forums Hunting & Shooting Hunter's Campfire CW McCall has moved upstairs.

Somehow I have one of his 8 tracks, I think it was in a bundle of tapes I bought for my old vette.

"Ah, Rubber Duck to Sodbuster, come over
Yeah, 10-4, Sodbuster?
Listen, you wanna put that micra-bus in behind that suicide jockey?
Yeah, he's haulin' dynamite, and he needs all the help he can get"

"Hit a bump and spilled the koolade"

Married for 70 years to the same woman; kids, grandkids and a great grandchild. Mayor of Ouray CO for six years.

His last political act was to allow Canadian truckers protesting COVID restrictions free use of his song ‘Convoy’.

I’d say he had a good run 😎

Damn good run. RIP Convoy singer!

See ya on the flip side.

Rest in peace.
CW

Looks like we've lost a patriot and a slice of Americana that made the 1970's such a memorable decade.
RIP

We is screamin' through the valley
Where the Nishnabotna flows
Through the mud and crud and cornfields
Where the mari-ju-wana grows
'Cross the railroad tracks of Persia
Down the hills and up the dale
Had a CJ-5 with a four-wheel drive
And Smokey on my tail

Well, he picked me up at exit 12
On the I-six-eighty ramp
I was doin' 67 per
When I rumbled through his trap
He commenced to whirl his flashin' lights
And he made his siren wail
I slipped on down to four-wheel drive
With Smokey on my tail

Now I got racin' stripes and dual pipes
And Smokey's got a Ford
Got a mill with a four pot carb, you know
But Smokey's stroked and bored
Well, the chase was on, but I had the edge
With a rig that'll never fail
Got a CJ-5 with a four-wheel drive
And Smokey on my tail

Yeah, he was

Well, I dropped on down to granny low
And I made a hard right turn
My big ol' fat Commando tires
Went slashin' through the corn
Well, the tassels blew
And the kernels flew
And it looked like yella hail
Just cookin' alive in a four-wheel drive
With Smokey on my tail

Well, we went screamin' through the valley
Where the Nishnabotna flows
Through the mud and crud and cornfields
Where the mari-ju-wana grows
'Cross the railroad tracks of Persia
Up the hills and down the dales
My CJ-5 with four-wheel drive
And Smokey on my tail

Look out, now. Here he come

Oh, we gonna get it on now

(Don't hit that fella with the banjo)

We gonna swim this here creek now, Smokey

Yard wide and a foot deep

"Nishnabota River", they call it

Might haveta winch out

Gonna do a wheelie on that there gopher mound now, Smokey

Can you dig it, Smokey?

Got four on the floor and four in the air on that one, didn't we?

Goodness gracious. 'Bout ta bust my shocks

Well, that Jeep of mine made Smokey whine
His rig was made of lead
He was mired in fourteen feet of mud
So he radioed ahead
I pulled up onto the blacktop
Went crashin' on through the rail
Sakes alive! I had twenty-five more
Smokeys on my tail

Now I had racin' stripes and dual pipes
And Smokey had a Ford
Had a mill with a four pot carb, you know
But Smokey's stroked and bored
Well, the race was on, but I had the edge
With a rig that'll never fail
Got a CJ-5 with a four-wheel drive
Settin' out back a' the jail

"Wolf Creek Pass"

Me an' Earl was haulin' chickens on a flatbed out of Wiggins
And we'd spent all night on the uphill side of thirty-seven miles of hell
Called Wolf Creek Pass. Which is up on the Great Divide?
We was settin' there suckin' toothpicks, drinkin' Nehi and onion soup mix
And I said, "Earl, let's mail a card to Mother then send them chickens on down the other side
Yeah, let's give 'em a ride"

Wolf Creek Pass, way up on the Great Divide
Truckin' on down the other side

Well, Earl put down his bottle, mashed his foot down on the throttle
And then a couple'a boobs with a thousand cubes in a nineteen-forty-eight Peterbilt screamed to life
We woke up the chickens

Well, we roared up offa that shoulder sprayin' pine cones, rocks, and boulders
And put four hundred head of them Rhode Island reds and a couple a' burnt-out roosters on the line
Look out below; 'cause here we go

Wolf Creek Pass, way up on the Great Divide
Truckin' on down the other side

Well, we commenced to truckin' and them hens commenced to cluckin'
And then Earl took out a match and scratched his pants and lit up the unused half of a dollar cigar and took a puff
Says "My, ain't this purdy up here"

I says, "Earl, this hill can spill us. You better slow down or you gonna kill us
Just make one mistake and it's the Pearly Gates for them eight-five crates a' USDA-approved cluckers
You wanna hit second?"

Wolf Creek Pass, way up on the Great Divide
Truckin' on down the other side

Well, Earl grabbed on the shifter and he stabbed her into fifth gear
And then the chromium-plated, fully-illuminated genuine accessory shift knob come right off in his hand
I says, "You wanna screw that thing back on, Earl?"

He was tryin' to thread it on there when the fire fell off a' his cigar
And dropped on down, sorta rolled around, and then lit in the cuff of Earl's pants and burned a hole in his sock
Yeah, sorta set him right on fire

I looked on outta the window and I started countin' phone poles
Goin' by at the rate of four to the seventh power
Well I put two and two together, and added twelve and carried five
Come up with twenty-two thousand telephone poles an hour

I looked at Earl and his eyes was wide, his lip was curled, and his leg was fried
And his hand was froze to the wheel like a tongue to a sled in the middle of a blizzard
I says, "Earl, I'm not the type to complain; but the time has come for me to explain
That if you don't apply some brake real soon, they're gonna have to pick us up with a stick and a spoon"

Well, Earl rared back, and cocked his leg, stepped as down as hard as he could on the brake
And the pedal went clear to the floor and stayed there, right there on the floor
He said it was sorta like steppin' on a plum

Well, from there on down it just wasn't real purdy: it was hairpin county and switchback city
One of 'em looked like a can full'a worms; another one looked like malaria germs
Right in the middle of the whole damn show was a real nice tunnel, now wouldn't you know?

Sign says clearance to the twelve-foot line, but the chickens was stacked to thirteen-nine
Well we shot that tunnel at a hundred-and-ten, like gas through a funnel and eggs through a hen
And we took that top row of chickens off slicker than scum off a Louisiana swamp
Went down and around and around and down 'til we run outta ground at the edge of town
Bashed into the side of the feed store... in downtown Pagosa Springs

Wolf Creek Pass, way up on the Great Divide
Truckin' on down the other side
Wolf Creek Pass, way up on the Great Divide
Truckin' on down the other side

Good times back in the day

The Old Man had that very same tape. We always played it in the wrecker on the way to the Ebensburg Auto Auction.
I think he had another one, but I don’t recall the title.
The song “Crispy Critters” was on it.
McCall was one of the good ones. “Convoy” was 90% responsible for the CB Radio craze in the early 70s.
All that damn talking, and mostly nothing but BS.
7mm

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=weGoTt3ZjGA

Rush Limbaugh loved this version of Silent Night by Mannheim Steamroller. He played it every day on his radio show, during the Christmas season.
CW McCall was Mannheim Steamroller.