The moment you hear that infectious fiddle intro and the first line, “Headed down south to the land of the pines,” you know you’re in for a ride. “Wagon Wheel” by Old Crow Medicine Show isn’t just a song; it’s a cultural phenomenon. My own journey into truly appreciating its brilliance began, ironically, with cover versions. Hearing both Ahab and Manran, two distinctly different bands, tackle “Wagon Wheel” at the Heb Celt Fest sparked my curiosity. Then, my daughter’s enthusiastic recommendation of the original Old Crow Medicine Show version sent me reaching for my guitar and diving deep into what makes this song so enduring.
But before we get rolling, a confession: I was late to the Bob Dylan party on this one. Like many, I was familiar with the chorus, but hadn’t connected it to Dylan’s “Rock Me Mama,” an outtake from the Pat Garrett & Billy The Kid sessions. Dusting off my Genuine Bootleg Series Disc Two, I revisited that original snippet (thankfully, it’s readily available on YouTube). Listening to Dylan’s raw, unfinished version – the chorus slightly rearranged, verses more sketched than sculpted, lacking the signature fiddle – highlighted just how much Ketch Secor of OCMS transformed it. He didn’t just complete a song; he imbued it with a vibrant energy and storytelling depth that resonated far beyond its origins.
Secor, with his Virginia roots and journeys through New England and upstate New York before landing in North Carolina, injected his own experiences into Dylan’s fragment. He crafted three verses that paint vivid pictures, blending personal narrative with universal themes of longing and escape.
Let’s break down that opening verse:
Headed down south to the land of the pines
And I’m thumbing my way into North Caroline
Staring up the road, pray to God
I see headlights.
I made it down the coast in seventeen hours,
Picking me a bouquet of dogwood flowers
And I’m a-hoping for Raleigh,
I can see my baby tonight.
Immediately, we’re on the road, feeling the miles stretch out. The “land of the pines” evokes the Southern landscape, and hitchhiking in “North Caroline” sets a scene of travel and a touch of uncertainty, especially with the line “staring up the road, pray to God I see headlights.” It’s a long journey, hundreds of miles, made more poignant by the simple hope of seeing his “baby tonight.” The dogwood flowers, a detail that grounds the journey in the southeastern US, add a touch of romanticism, suggesting a purpose beyond just travel.
Alt text: Rustic wagon wheel with wildflowers, symbolizing the song’s Americana roots.
Then comes the chorus, the heart of the song, and the key to understanding the enduring phrase, “Rock Me Like A Wagon Wheel”:
So rock me mama like a wagon wheel
Rock me mama anyway you feel
Hey, mama rock me.
Rock me mama like the wind and the rain
Rock me mama like a south-bound train
Hey, mama rock me.
It’s undeniably bluesy, drawing from a rich well of traditional imagery. Wind, rain, and south-bound trains are classic tropes in folk and blues music, representing hardship, travel, and longing. Dylan’s genius twist was changing “roll me” to “rock me.” Wagon wheels roll, they don’t typically “rock,” but this subtle shift injects a modern, almost rock and roll energy into the folk framework. It’s a more dynamic, less predictable motion, mirroring the restless spirit of the song. And that drawn-out, yearning “heyyyyy,” falling in pitch with the chord change, is pure magic. Simple, yet utterly essential to the song’s emotional pull.
Verse two shifts the perspective, revealing more about the singer’s motivations:
Running from the cold up in New England,
I was born to be a fiddler in an old-time stringband.
My baby plays the guitar,
I pick a banjo now.
Oh, the north country winters keep a-getting me now.
Lost my money playing poker so I had to up and leave
But I ain’t a-turning back
To living that old life no more.
This isn’t just a love song; it’s an escape narrative. He’s fleeing the harsh New England winter, pursuing his musical passion (“born to be a fiddler”), and leaving behind a life that’s become unsustainable (“lost my money playing poker”). His baby waiting in Raleigh is part of the draw, but the drive to change his life, to embrace music, is equally powerful. Secor’s lyrical dexterity, packing extra syllables into lines like “north country winters keep a-getting me now,” builds momentum, pushing the narrative forward. The final couplet is resolute: this journey is about lasting change, not a temporary escape.
Verse three takes an unexpected turn, adding layers of intrigue:
Walking to the south out of Roanoke
I caught a trucker out of Philly,
Had a nice long toke.
But he’s a headed west from the Cumberland Gap
To Johnson City, Tennessee.
And I gotta get a move on before the sun
I hear my baby calling my name
And I know that she’s the only one
And if I die in Raleigh
At least I will die free.
He’s in Virginia, still on foot, and his ride with the Philly trucker is going in the wrong direction – westward into the Appalachians. Then, a sudden surge of romantic certainty – “she’s the only one” – followed by the enigmatic lines, “If I die in Raleigh, at least I will die free.” This dramatic couplet raises questions. Is there a threat of death? What kind of “freedom” is he seeking in Raleigh? The context hints at a deeper yearning, a desire for liberation that transcends just escaping the cold or finding love.
Alt text: Old Crow Medicine Show performing live, showcasing their energetic stage presence and musical expertise.
My interpretation, though perhaps not the songwriter’s intended meaning, connects to the idea of artistic freedom. Heading west through the Cumberland Gap towards Johnson City and then potentially Nashville, the heart of country music, would be the commercially logical move for an “old-time stringband.” Is our singer consciously choosing a different path, heading to Raleigh and “freedom,” even if it means sacrificing mainstream success or facing an uncertain future (“die in Raleigh”)? Perhaps “freedom” is artistic integrity, staying true to his own vision, even if it’s less commercially viable.
Of course, Old Crow Medicine Show famously did move to Nashville and achieved great success. But this doesn’t diminish the song’s power. “Wagon Wheel” resonates because it captures the push and pull between aspiration and escape, love and independence, and the open road and a destination that may hold both promise and uncertainty. The line “rock me like a wagon wheel” isn’t just a catchy phrase; it’s an invocation of movement, a yearning for comfort and connection amidst the journey of life. And that’s why, years after its release, “Wagon Wheel” continues to roll on, capturing hearts and inspiring singalongs worldwide.
