"Why don't we ride the PBP?"
It's in two thousand fifteen,
we've time to train if we are keen!"
"How shall we train?" to him I say.
"Easy - we cycle every day!"
"That does sound very nice indeed.
Let us make ready and god speed!"
And so I hummed a happy song
and wondered what to bring along.
Some like a bag in front, some rear.
But which to choose, oh dear oh dear?
And then I thought, why choose at all?
I shall take both, and they'll fit all!
Some spare tubes and tires and tools,
some knitting needles and fine wools,
some notebooks, inks and fountain pens,
some fat and juicy sautéed hens,
some wine, some cheese, some clothes, some books,
a fishing rod and reel and hooks,
some Wellies and some dancing shoes,
some records, mainly jazz and blues,
some pillows, quilts and woolen socks
computers, cameras and clocks,
a loofa, soap, perfumes and lotions,
some gauze, syringes, pills and potions...
To Paris we shall ride prepared.
The unprepared have poorly fared!
But oh what bicycle to ride
and carry such a load in stride?
What tubing and of which fine metal
will suit me as I knit and pedal?
They say it's not about the bike,
you ought to ride the one you like.
The one that's comfortable and sturdy,
sports fenders, lights, and can get dirty.
Just then I saw her by the door
and my dilemma was no more.
Her rod brakes might not stop till Brest,
and turning does take some finesse,
her wheel rims are full of pits,
she's heavy as a trunk of grits,
she's sixty years old and rusty,
but! She stays upright when it's gusty,
and although gears she has but one,
she's oh so hardy and she's fun!
The Triumph shall roll smooth and steady.
"My friend," I shout, "I'm brevet-ready!"
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