Western Walkabout: The Bike Ride
Richard Harris’s poem concerns an invigorating friend-making bike ride.
Granddad’s gone a-riding
Along the Batavia coast
With a mob of fitness buffs
Who start each day with toast.
One pedaller brings a mini skip
Stuffs it full of porridge
Tops it off with honey and milk
And hops back for another.
Pills are popped for aging hearts,
Lipstick applied before sun block,
Vitamins swallowed like sugar treats
But a swag of fresh fruit is left over.
Brian looks in the morning mirror
And gives a cry of horror.
“I look like death” he shouts to friends.
“Nonsense,” they cry – you know how men lie
“You’re as handsome as the rest of us.”
You see much in the way they walk.
Take Kleber Klaus, for starters.
He stands like pharaoh reviewing troops
Yet moves with ballet grace – a dancer.
Colin Prior’s massive thighs
Drive him fast and freely.
He rides a tonne a day at home.
For why? For fun, says Colin.
The glove he threw down on the ride.
Catch me if you can, he cried.
Faster than a speeding bullet
He fled the hills and leapt the gullies
Beating the wind to morning tea,
And looking then behind with glee
He gasped – there’s Kleber who
Nonchalantly
Had matched him all those miles
In friction gears on his old bike
Kleber danced up all those hills
Like light on water he flashed along
-an inspiration for a song.
Look at the stride of Basia Lis –
A powerful empress walk.
She parts the air with a regal nose
And commands us all to hear
Whatever news we are to know
Her telling is part of the show.
What sort of ride did Granddad have?
His treats were a pee before morning tea
A head wind all the way
A cardboard sandwich for his lunch
Snores all night from those around –
He never felt alone.
One puncture on the final day
But a dozen willing hands were lent
By friends who sought to help.
“It was a wonderful ride” the old boy said.
“I made some lovely friends.
“Wouldn’t have missed a pedal of it.
“God bless the CTA.*
**
*CTA – Cyclists Touring Association.
