If “Iron Finger” was about the science of navigation, “North by Hollow Creek” is about the intuition of it. This track features a flowing, finger-picked guitar melody that mimics the constant, babbling movement of water over stones. In Sector 8, when the mist is too thick for the stars and your “iron finger” is tucked away, you listen to the creek.
The Water’s Compass
Boone “Dusty” Maddox trades the magnetic for the biological here. He’s reading the moss on the north side of the stones and following the “crow’s wing” to orient himself. It’s a song about the river’s truth—the idea that water always knows where it’s going, even when a man doesn’t.
There’s a gritty realism in the line “The stars might lie, but the water don’t bend.” In the wasteland, atmospheric haze or “black-stony” storms can trick the eyes, but the physical path carved by Hollow Creek is an undeniable fact on the ground.
Marking the Dark
The song also highlights the “trail-craft” of the Maddox family—notching the bark, marking the clay, and heeding the warning of a snapped branch. It’s a lonesome trek through a “ghost-haunted” landscape where the river carries the murmur of those who didn’t make the journey.
The final refrain, “Hollow Creek guides… till I’m gone astray,” is a classic Boone paradox. It’s the acknowledgment that even with the best guide in the world, the wasteland is a hungry place that eventually claims every wanderer.
NORTH BY HOLLOW CREEK
by: Boone “Dusty” Maddox
Moss on the north side, clingin’ to stone,
Crow’s callin’ east where the river’s grown.
No map in my pocket, no starlight to spare,
I read the creek’s ripple to find my way there.
The pines lean heavy, they whisper my load,
Each bend in the water’s a tale untold.
A fox track fades where the silt runs deep,
I walk by the hollow where secrets keep.
North by Hollow Creek, where the cold winds hum,
Follow the crow’s wing till the daylight’s done.
No road to trust, no path to claim,
Just the river’s truth and a wanderer’s name.
The ridge runs jagged, it cuts through the mist,
A hawk’s shadow circles, clenchin’ its fist.
I mark my way with a notch in the bark,
Trustin’ the river to guide through the dark.
The water’s my compass, its murmur my guide,
It carries the ghosts of the ones who died.
Each ripple’s a story, each stone’s a sign,
I follow the creek where the fates align.
North by Hollow Creek, where the shadows creep,
I’ll find my way, though the night runs deep.
One step, one breath, one mark in the clay,
Hollow Creek guides when the world’s gone astray.
The stars might lie, but the water don’t bend,
It carves through the dark till the journey’s end.
A snapped branch warns of a trail gone wrong,
I heed the creek’s call and I move along.
North by Hollow Creek, where the shadows creep,
I’ll find my way, though the night runs deep.
One step, one breath, one mark in the clay,
Hollow Creek guides when the world’s gone astray.
Hollow Creek guides… till I’m gone astray.