Mike's Meadow Muffin for August 3, 2004
I use the McClure Ferry quite often and always look forward to that few minutes of gliding across the North Thompson River watching the river (and the ferry man) do all the work!
White water boiling off her flanks
The main cable creaks as she comes about,
Steel wheels sing upon the braided wire,
As the current pulls her out.
For a hundred years she's bucked this tide,
without need of fuel or steam,
The re-action ferry propels herself,
with the power of the stream.
Thriving on adversity,
Drawing power from our foes,
Like the little boat we fight our way,
through the raging flows.
But like that boat, we are no match,
for the torrents we must face,
It's the cable anchored in solid rock,
That holds us in our place!
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