POT HOLE VALLEY – USA

By Elsie Polk Cunningham

Here is a description in rhyme of the South Princeton Road before the Maine DOT took it over. Do we really want to go back to the good old days?

 

No doubt you’ve heard the song they sing of the ride through Haynesville Wood,

The story I’m about to relate will make that road look good.

Someday when you want to take a ride it sure will do you good,

To take a ride from Princeton, Maine out through the Alexander Wood.

It does not have a fancy name, this road that cuts off miles,

From Route l to the Airline and I'm sure it won't bring smiles.

We call it Pot Hole Valley now, how could it get that name?

It is because if a snake crawled over it that it would find its self quite lame?

Your first time through you wonder if you should have brought a lunch,

My advice is - bring a mechanic, and he'd better have his wrench.

The first potholes are small ones, but don’t get discouraged my friend,

After hitting over a hundred, you wonder if there’s an end.

The first big one you drop in, you think you’ve hit a well,

But it's better as you go along down in this Pot Hole dell.

You feel a thud, but bounce right back, now a very loud noise you hear,

Oh, it's nothing but your muffler gone, You thought you'd lost a gear!

You wonder as you bump along if your motor will stay inside,

You’ll also wonder with each thump, "Is this what you call a ride?"

Now, we don't need a roller coaster, not here in this part of Maine,

It's the thrill of your life to ride that road, and I bet you won't do it again.

 

Written about 1985 by Elsie Polk Cunningham (1908 – 2009) of Princeton