C.W. McCall, the stage persona of William Fries, was a novelty singer and songwriter who achieved mainstream success in the 1970s. His music, often characterized by its humorous and storytelling nature, resonated with a wide audience. “Wolf Creek Pass” is arguably one of his most iconic songs, contributing significantly to his popularity.
The song emerged from a time when the open road and the trucking lifestyle captured the American imagination. With the post-war economic boom, trucking became a vital industry, and its workers became a symbol of American grit and independence. McCall’s music tapped into this cultural zeitgeist, painting vivid portraits of life on the road.
Musical Style
“Wolf Creek Pass” is a prime example of McCall’s musical style, often labeled as “novelty country” or “truck stop music.” The song blends elements of country music with a storytelling narrative, creating a unique and engaging listening experience. The instrumentation is relatively simple, featuring acoustic guitar, bass, and drums, providing a backdrop for McCall’s distinctive vocal delivery. His voice, with its rich baritone and storytelling cadence, is a key element of the song’s appeal.
The song’s structure is also noteworthy. It follows a traditional verse-chorus form, but the verses are extended narratives, almost like short stories. This structure allows McCall to develop his characters and plot, immersing the listener in the world of the song.
Lyrics
The lyrics of “Wolf Creek Pass” are central to the song’s charm. They paint a vivid picture of a treacherous mountain pass, populated by colorful characters and filled with humorous anecdotes. The song’s narrator, a truck driver, shares his experiences with a fellow driver named Earl as they navigate the perilous road.
The lyrics are filled with vivid imagery and colloquial language, capturing the essence of the trucking lifestyle. The challenges of the road, the camaraderie among drivers, and the beauty of the natural world are all woven into the fabric of the song. Humor is also a prominent feature, with witty observations and playful wordplay adding to the song’s appeal.
“Wolf Creek Pass” and C.W. McCall’s music, in general, had a significant cultural impact. The songs resonated with a wide audience, appealing to both truck drivers and those who simply enjoyed a good story. The music helped to romanticize the trucking lifestyle, creating an enduring image of the open road and the independent trucker.
Moreover, McCall’s music contributed to the popularity of novelty records in the 1970s. His success paved the way for other artists who sought to combine humor, storytelling, and music. The song’s enduring popularity is a testament to its ability to connect with audiences on a deep level.
Conclusion
“Wolf Creek Pass” is more than just a song; it’s a snapshot of a particular time and place. It captures the spirit of the American open road, the camaraderie of the trucking community, and the enduring appeal of a well-told story. C.W. McCall’s ability to blend humor, storytelling, and music created a unique and enduring body of work, and “Wolf Creek Pass” stands as a testament to his talent. The song’s continued popularity is a testament to its timeless appeal and the enduring fascination with the American highway.
Video
Lyrics
🎵 Let’s sing along with the lyrics! 🎤
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!
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 Lousiana 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
