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Keele Peak in Mackenzie Mountain range

Breeds snow 12 months a year

To get to the top takes grit and mean

And untold hours of prayer

 

Refrain:

Yukon Cornelius

Born with a pickaxe in his hand

Yukon Cornelius

Find Santa’s gold if you can

 

A man named Ringo traveled there

From North Dakota way

He’d heard ‘bout Keele since a wee lad’s height

Heard gold, at its feet, might pay.

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He set up camp one late fall day

On the south side, in a cave

Had to share with a sleepy mama bear

They were right when they said he was brave.

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That spring when mama bear awoke

Ringo left to the trading post

Mama left with her cubs to the salmon run

Prayer answered what he’d prayed for most

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That summer the nearby town had a dance

Ringo put on his cleanest clothes

He danced all eve with a sturdy lass

By the name of Xena Rose

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At summer’s end they said their vows

All fall they built a home in town

As the 2nd spring was in full swing

Xena knit blankets of the finest down

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One morn in June, with the midwife there

Two babes from Xena Rose

One name Patrick, one Cornelius

My how their baby cheeks glowed

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Robust young sons, they grew by leaps

Helped Ringo mine gold at 2

They swam with the salmon, climbed with the cubs

Grew strong as the sky was blue

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The years went by, they grew into men

They made their parents proud

Where Patrick was quiet and kept the books

Cornelius was wild and loud

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One day word came to town

That the North Pole was the place to go

To strike it rich for the gold was such

That there was gold-covered snow!

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Cornelius told Ringo and Xena Rose

He needed to see for himself

And promised to bring back a fortune

And maybe one of Santa’s Elfs.

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At end of fall he took the train

As far North as it went,

Then outfitted himself with sled and dogs

Pickaxe, pliers, and tent.

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His retractable skates, fashioned with love

Were his parting gift from his Pa

A thick wool cap of the finest down

Crowned his head, a gift from his Ma

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A knife, hatchet, and canteen

rounded out his gear

His biggest assets though were his laugh

And his sense of adventure, not fear

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Whome’er he passed on his Polar Plunge

When they asked where he was from and his name

Came a hearty laugh, a twinkle-eyed smile, and,

“Yukon Cornelius is my name!”

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