Saturday, December 31, 2016.
The Christmas excesses are now stored as fat, and given that a mental fog has persisted, today’s piece is very short. Gone is the advice column and the spin reports. Perhaps also the attempt to find an angle to an incident is beyond my state. Fear not, however, because fog is sometimes a breeding ground for poetry. Yes, poetry, albeit stolen and relicensed.
‘Tis the day before New Year and all through the house
not a Bisto was stirring, not even a turbo….
‘Tis the day before New Year, and all through the den
Not a turbo is turning, not even a wren.
The STOCKINGS were hung by the top-tube with care,
In hopes that BurkesBiking soon would be there;
Group 4* were nestled all snug in their beds;
While visions of 160 danced in their heads;
And ladies in longs, and I in my velo,
Had cycled our brains out for a long winter’s (Audax) solo,
When out on the spin there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my saddle to see what was the matter.
Away to the front I made a quick dash,
And steadied the half-wheeling chap in a flash.
That was the end of the half-wheeling from that day forward. Yet, the dense fog remains!
There’s more to be learned about half-wheeling here on the Dungarvan Cycling Club website.
* Insert whatever group you normally cycle with.
Happy New Year to all my readers, cycle safely out there!