Tracy Fawn's Poem
Read at the Banquet
[Read to “Twas The Night Before Christmas”]
‘Twas the morning before PAC Tour, and all through
the dew,
not a creature was stirring, except for the crew.
All the bikes were clean, and maintained with care,
in hopes that those tires, would help them get there.
All the riders were snuggled, all tucked in their beds,
while visions of chain rings, danced in their heads.
When up on the nightstand, there arose such a clatter,
the alarm beeped, and they got up to see what was the matter.
Day one started, while the sun was coming up,
The windy descent, left some riders amuck.
Then what to their wondering eyes should appear,
the Swiss men at lunch, holding a beer!
“Where is the white powder, are there goatheads
around?”
Peter asked with a smile, and never a frown.
Day two brought us to Yuma, and hors d'oeuvres by the
pool,
Our first chance to do laundry, we thought that was really cool.
We moved on through Arizona, and found the Space Age
Motel,
Gila Bend was the place, Susan Doherty said fair well.
The Salt River Canyon, provided great views,
but the road construction, left a bit of the group askew.
We always had roses, to enjoy every day,
Monika we thank, who always had lots to say.
Lois, Ann, and Susan kept us all pushing hard,
But when the Rodeo got stuck, we called the tow truck yard.
We crossed the Great Divide, where the East meets the
West,
“157 miles!” surely you jest.
We all were in good spirits, ‘till we got to Ruidoso,
it was really hot, and more climbing than we thought… so.
Pat tried to defy gravity, which seemed to have called,
her skin got chewed up, every time there was a fall.
The headwinds into Brownfield, seemed too much to bear,
thank God for the rest stop at Dairy, to help us get there.
The nickname “crash” will be given to he,
Greg is the man, who tore skin off his knee.
Don is always singing, and aero he rides,
his love Evelyn, keeps the riders in stride.
“On y va!” “Let’s go!” we
hear James exclaim,
“My gears don’t work right, and I’m cold,”
George explains.
Brian’s leg caused him such problems, and a whole
lot of grief,
but the time spent in the SAG, was ever so brief.
Into Roswell we rode, where aliens inhabit we’re
told,
we toured the museum, and tried to be bold.
Leigh and Forrest, get lots of flats,
but drafting behind them, seemed worth all of that.
The days went one-by-one, and aches and pains we all
had,
but each mile we accomplished, made it seem not so bad.
The flood in Texas, had some of us swimming,
3 ½ ft deep, had other riders detouring.
Frank’s socks are neat, and he coasts down hills,
He had fun drafting Larry, in the rain and the chills.
The land of Davy Crockett, we rode through with joy,
but Ron got tangled up with a raccoon, and the tail’s still
‘hangin off that boy.
Big gears Pierce did push, while he climbed all those
hills,
His O’Douls mirror, gave us such thrills.
The tandem pulled riders, like Bill, Ned, and Howie,
They all go so fast, they make us say “Wow-wee.”
Ed pedaled around with the greatest of ease,
Rich’s tights are too short, they hardly cover his knees.
We met Lady Luck, at a casino in Lula,
The buffet was swell, and Tracy won lots of moola.
Marty and Lisa are steady, on the tandem they do ride,
Ken’s sciatic nerve, makes his left leg go out to the side.
We were in three states, on day nineteen,
Mississippi, Alabama, and Tennessee made us feel peachy keen.
Bruce and Brian, the Spinergy brothers we know,
Their strength so great, and we love them so.
Anurang likes curry rice, and with food he is picky,
But when it comes to his bike, he is real tricky.
Lon really digs tractors, and Susan likes yard sales,
Without them on our journey, the trip would be a little stale.
Our memories, will endure, for years and years to come,
Our friendships we bonded, from different states and countries
we have come from.
Our journey must end, and we all say goodbye,
Godspeed to all, and to all a good ride.