A Hiker’s Night Before
Christmas 
(see below for ham radio version of this)
Twas
the night before Christmas, when all through the shelter
Not a hiker was stirring, too cold for a swelter.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that Hiker Nick would dry them right
there.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of Pop Tarts danced in their heads.
And mamma in her bedroll, and I setting a trap,
Had just settled our brains for a long hiker’s
nap.
When out on the bear hanger there arose such a
clatter,
I sprang from the bunk to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the pack and scratched at my rash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to the trail below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a hungry big black bear, looking for beer.
I’m a little old hiker, not lively or quick,
So in a moment of fear I grabbed a stick.
More rapid than eagles his growls they came,
And he whistled, and grunted, and didn’t look tame!
“Now scamper! now, scat! now, out I’m Fixen!
I yelled and I screamed, cursing like Blitzen!
To the top of the privy! To the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!”
As dry leaves that before the trail storms do fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up to the shelter-top the bear he flew,
With the lots of loud noise, and crashing too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The clawing and pawing, the dog gave a woof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney the bear came with a bound.
He was covered in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his coat was all tarnished with ashes and
soot.
A bear-bag of provisions he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler, just opening his
pack.
His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a
cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
It was evident in a minute, this was no sow.
The stump of a branch he held tight in his teeth,
And the chimney smoke encircled his head like a
wreath
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he growled, like he’d just left a
deli!
He was chubby and plump, and leaned on a shelf
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself!
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He made not a sound, but went straight to his
work,
And raided all the stockings, then turned with a
jerk.
And laying his paws aside of his nose
And giving a nod, he left for a doze!
He gave out a bray, which caused me to bristle,
And away he flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he dove out of
sight,
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a
good-night!”
Dennis
“K1” Blanchard
AT
07/08
Author
of Three Hundred Zeroes
(I’m not going to copyright this, but credit is appreciated) Feel free to copy.