For Part 1 of this two-part poem, click here.  Enjoy!
At one-forty AM the alarm clock buzzed me awake.
That’s horribly early for one to forsake
Their comfortable bed. But arise I did,
Rubbing the sleep from each tired eyelid.

Out to the hall to awaken those sleeping,
A tough night for Mike cuz Hunter was keeping
Him awake through most of the night.
I guess Hunter thought the couch was his by right.

What?  No one asked me if they could stay over…

Patrick was awake when I knocked on the door
Of the room where Mike had been offered the floor.
While he hadn’t had a great night’s sleep,
Off him the door had managed to keep

Both B.B. and Hunter who were not happy locked out
And maybe sleeping on Mike was their way to pout?
But I’m getting off topic, we got in the car
And started our journey that would take us quite far.

But first a stop to grab our fourth, Will,
Who was wide awake waiting with a cooler to chill
Our beverages. We sallied forth
To Mount Wakely! Off to the north!

The two hours by car flew by oh so fast.
Before we knew it we were heading past
Indian Lake. And look there, a creature,
A porcupine with quills as its special feature.

And it was on Cedar River Road
Where disaster happened, I saw a toad
That was, I swear, a full half-foot long
And I knew that it would be just wrong

Not the toad we almost squished

To smoosh an amphibian so amazing.
So I hit the brakes with blazing
Speed and soda flew across the car
But we didn’t let this minor mishap mar

Our hike! We pulled into the lot
And all our stuff out of the car we got.
Mind you, it was four-thirty and still quite dark
And we were deep in the huge Adirondack Park.

We started to go, we started to hike
But a bunch of beavers had built a dyke!
Thank goodness the trail had been rerouted
Cuz our choice of a mountain would have been otherwise doubted.

We continued on as the forest started to wake
And we saw more toads and some newts and a lake.
Okay, it was another pond built by a beaver,
A better architect than an oriole weaver.

and yet another toad!

On up the mountain, the steep part was now
And we had no choice but ahead to plow
And plod, depending on to whom you talk.
Regardless, it was not a cake of a walk.

Will fell behind, far behind it is true,
But really there was nothing at all we could do.
To each their own pace when climbing a mountain
But I bet Will would have killed for a drinking fountain!

As we went higher the toads kept appearing
And at them we were continually leering
Or looking. They were so neat.
And to survive on such a big mountain is quite a feat!

can you ever have enough toads?

But other than the toads which from us did cower
We also saw many a wildflower
Which Patrick was quick to identify
Along with the occasional butterfly.

Yellow Clintonia…thanks for the ID, Patrick!

He could ID dragonflies on the wing
So being a naturalist is surely his thing.
It was nice to put names to things
That did not have fine feathered wings.

But up we hiked, and up, and higher
And our legs grew mighty tired.
We finally made it, we had reached the top
And we could momentarily stop.

The fog was gray and cool and thick
And being on the fire tower was quite a kick.
And actually it was also a pretty big pain
As low metal crossbars rattled my brain.

So while we enjoyed the top of Mount Wakely
Will arrived, “How could you forsake me?”
We felt kind of bad; he looked rather tuckered.
But it was okay, he’d found the nest of sapsuckers.

Which reminds me, this blog’s for the birds!
But I’ve already used up my allotment of words!
So go read the writings of Patrick and Will
And Mike as they describe the birds that gave them a thrill.

Wood Frog (and thanks again to Patrick for the ID)

That’s the end of the story I’m all out of gas
On describing the walk back down I think I will pass.
So seriously if you want to know how it ends
Scroll back up to the links and click on my friends!

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Written by Corey
Corey is a New Yorker who lived most of his life in upstate New York but has lived in Queens since 2008. He's only been birding since 2005 but has garnered a respectable life list by birding whenever he wasn't working as a union representative or spending time with his family. He lives in Forest Hills with Daisy, their son, Desmond Shearwater, and their indoor cat, B.B. His bird photographs have appeared on the Today Show, in Birding, Living Bird Magazine, Bird Watcher's Digest, and many other fine publications. He is also the author of the American Birding Association Field Guide to the Birds of New York.