To Ride or Not to Ride 05/05/2011
To ride, or not to ride, that is the question. Whether 'tis easier on the behind to sleep-in and suffer
the stabs and insults of outrageous cyclists or to take bikes against a road of troubles and by pedaling ride them? To climb, to stand,
though sore; and by stand to say we end
the butt-ache, and the thousand natural shocks
that flesh is heir to: 'tis a state of fitness
devoutly to be wished. To climb, to stand, to stand, perchance to breathe – ay, there's the difficulty; for in that standing and climbing, what breaths may come? When we have pedaled off last evening’s meal,
must give us pause – there's the bonk that makes calamity of so long a ride.
For who would bear the nips and bites of dogs, the dump-truck’s wheels, the redneck’s jeers, the pains of cramping legs, the lunch delay, the disrespect of trailer porch loungers, and the spurns
of kit-clad racers, when he himself might his breakaway make
on a bare wheel rim? Who would lugged steel bear, to grunt and sweat on heavy frame, but that the dread of something after morning coffee, the undiscovered country roads from whose miles
no wuss returns, puzzles the will,
and makes us rather pedal those miles we know than ride on others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make athletes of us all,
and thus the cyclist’s resolution to rise and ride is not deterred by Spring’s pale pasty skin, and fears of great struggle and perspiration, with this regard their sedentary paths are turned,
and they choose the name of action. Though soft you are now. The lazy wimp! Cyclist, in thy moans
be all your miles remembered. Add Comment An excerpt from a story in-the-works... 08/11/2010
But when they arrived At a turn in the road; Darrin couldn’t slow down For the weight of his load, He couldn’t quite see Thanks to Betsy’s long hair, He couldn’t steer well With her sitting up there, His helmet no longer Sat up on his head, The cat had climbed up And now sat there instead! Another bicycle ride invitation. 04/19/2010
If you want to ride early before it gets hot And have time for the honey-do list your wife’s got. Come join me on Saturday morning at 8. Bring your gear, bring your bike, bring a friend. Don’t be late! Thompson’s Station Depot is the place where we’ll start ‘Cause riding is fun and it’s good for your heart. We’ll pump up our tires then we’ll jump on our steeds. We’ll fly down the roads at fantastical speeds. Wearing bright colored spandex of every hue, Cows will stare from their fields as we flash out of view. We’ll glide up the hillsides then down them we’ll shoot, We’ll squeal, and we’ll shout, and we’ll holler and hoot! The miles will fly by and we’ll wish there were more Till our energy fades and our rear-ends grow sore. Then the squealing will stop and the moaning will start. First a little, then more, then complaints off the chart! And the insults will fly, all directed at me. But I won’t hear a word and your glares I won’t see… My ears filled with ringing, my eyes burn with sweat. You’ll swear that we’re lost, lost forever you’ll bet. The last glimmer of hope is about to be lost And the breakfast you ate is about to be tossed… In the distance we’ll make out that bright red caboose. The weight of our imminent death is cut loose! As we load up our bikes, bodies twitching with pain We’ll agree that we can’t wait to do it again. A Haiku for You 03/08/2010
A river of doubt Threatens to flood my progress Kind words are buoyant A Haiku for You 03/01/2010
Two footed your leap Dark and deep uncertain depths His vow to save kept She’d searched through her shoes from the first to the last Now her heartbeat was beating two-times-two too fast! The days she’d been counting were counting down quick And the mountain of shoes made her stomach feel sick! “There’s no way I can go to the Charity Ball! Having no shoes I like, is like no shoes at all! “ A Haiku for You 02/23/2010
Wrench in skinned knuckles Bits and pieces on the floor Trip to the bike shop The Bicycling Bully 02/22/2010
This is another bicycle ride invitation from a couple years back... and yes, the "accidents" really happened. The Bicycling Bully Copyright © 2009 Kelly Pulley There once was a cyclist named Kelly R Pulley. It was rumored that he was a bicycling bully. He would ride all around on his ancient red Schwinn. When he caught cyclists out, he’d try doing them in. He would send out emails to bicycling chumps. Then he’d lead them down roads with mad dogs and bad bumps. He would often mistreat them and drive them to tears. Now and then, they’d end up with road rash on their rears, It was said, as he led one such ride from the rear… that the riders in front were attacked by wild deer! As the riders involved lay sprawled out on the ground… the ride leading bully was not to be found. A coincidence? Maybe. Or not. Who’s to say? But another bike “accident” happened this way… A large pack was out laying down tracks on the Trace. Soon the pace of the pack reached the pace of a race. It was said that the bully was there in the pack. Working his way to the front from the back. Then quite suddenly… Half of them fell to the ground! Once again, the bike bully was not to be found. A coincidence? Maybe. Or not. Who’s to say? But another bike “accident” happened this way… When a rider, Chris Brubaker, rode next to Pulley… (Not knowing that he was a bicycling bully) While descending a hill, his ride got quite intense. When his bike left the road… and he flew through a fence! Soon the other bike riders asked, “Where did Chris go?” The answer from Pulley was, he didn’t know. A coincidence? Maybe. Or not. Who’s to say? But no one’s seen Chris on a bike to this day. Are the rumors for real? Are they false? Are they true? There’s one way to find out. I will leave that to you. Go with him on a ride in the desolate sticks. Where there’s no one around should your bike need a fix. And your cell phone won’t work. Not one bar to be found. Distant plucking of banjos… the sole lonely sound. If you want to know, that’s the place where you’ll find… Just what sinister thoughts… ride the roads of his mind. Two Days in the Car 02/19/2010
This is a short excerpt from a children's story I was working on, I may or may not finish it someday. And to make matters worse, I’m not back here alone. I’m stuck in the back with my big sister Joan! Being trapped in the back with my sister I dread. If I have to sit here for two days I’ll be dead! I’ll be dead! It’s the truth! There’s no way I’ll survive. This vacation’s my end. I won’t come back alive! After two or three hours of her terrible singing, My head will go numb and my ears will start ringing. Then she’ll pick and she’ll poke till I can’t catch my breath. Then she’ll talk her girl talk till she bores me to death! We’ll arrive at the beach. Still they won’t know I’ve died. Till unloading, they find me all shriveled and dried. I Like to Ride My Red Schwinn Bike 02/17/2010
I like to ride my red Schwinn bike. I like to ride it when I like. I like to ride it in the sun. I like to ride at night for fun. Ride it, ride it, in the morning. Out the door, without a warning. I like to ride without delay. I like to ride it everyday. I like to ride my red Schwinn bike. I like to ride it where I like. I like to ride it up a hill. I like to ride it down for thrill. Ride it, ride it, near or far. Out on my bike, not in a car. I like to ride it here and there. I like to ride it everywhere. I like to ride my red Schwinn bike. I like to ride with whom I like. I like to ride it slow with May. I like to ride it fast with Jay. Ride it, ride it, by myself. Out on the road, not on a shelf. I like to ride with whom I choose. I like to ride in yellow shoes. I like to ride my red Schwinn bike. I like to ride. That’s what I like. So ride your bike, you’ll like it too. Hop on your bike, I’ll ride with you! | AuthorThis page gives you a little sample of the silliness you might find inside my head if you could see what's floating around in there. Scary, isn't it. ArchivesMay 2011 Categories |
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