Friday, December 15, 2006

The (Cyclist's) Night Before Christmas

The Night Before Christmas
By: Tim Kenkel (and some modifications by Tim)

Twas the night before Christmas and we had all come inside.
Everyone knew tonight would be the night for Santa's big ride.
The wrenches were all hung, by the workbench with care,
In hopes that new Park Tools soon would be there.

The bikes all hung from the garage on hooks from the ceiling,
Waiting for weather their riders would find more appealing.
I made some adjustments, the chain had a tight pin,
Then climbed on the trainer for a long winters spin.

When out on the lawn there arose quite a clatter,
I jumped out of the pedals to see what was the matter!
Up the steps so quick, you’d think I was Jan,
(Actually like Landis, since he is our man!)

In front of a trailhead all covered with snow,
(IMBA says “leave no trace” so we could not go)
I couldn’t believe my eyes, it had to be a dream,
Lance is there with his old Postal Team!

The sag wagon behind with Frankie looking slick,
I knew in a moment, the Posties are pretty dang quick!
Faster than Tyler Hamilton, these boys they did ride,
As Lance whistled and shouted, they joined him at his side

”Now Barry, now Antonio, Ekimove and Hincapie,
On Heras, on Landis, on Pena, and Triki!
To the Top of Alpe d'Huez! ...Ride Jan Ulrich right into a wall!
Now pedal away, pedal away, pedal away all!”

Like on the French roads in summer, these Posties did fly
When they dragged that peleton up those mountains and into the sky.
So up the roof top the Postie boys flew
With a sag wagon of toys, and Lance Armstrong too!

He was dressed in Yellow, his for 7 Tour years,
The Maillot Juane is now his own private gear.
A bundle of bike stuff, he had flung on his back,
He looked like a “pedaler” (and was one in fact!).

He was slender and thin, a true cyclist at heart
And I knew in a moment, “He could rip me apart!”
He asked me to ride with him; said I had nothing to fear
”I don’t go as fast since I retired last year,”

He climbed on his bike, a new Trek Madone,
Then he signaled for me to get on my own.
Then turning around with THAT look on his face
And giving a nod, he dictated our pace

As we sped up the street I thought "It’ll be fun!”
But then he took off, like he was shot from a gun.
I pedaled my hardest to keep up but alas!
My legs quickly blew up and I ran out of gas!

But I heard him call back ere he rode out of sight,
And was gone into the dark of Christmas eve night:

”May the climbs be short, and the downhills long,
the tires never flat, and your legs remain strong.
May the trails be dry so you can really go fast
and if you are racing, I hope you never get passed.

If you’re a road bike fan and skinny tires are your thing,
May the wind be at your back so you stay in the big ring.
May you never get dropped, no matter what the pace,
And at the end of the day, may you stand in first place!”

Then he waved goodbye with his team at his side;
“Merry Christmas to all, and to all, a good ride!”