Coast to coast

Back wheels in the water
Smiles on our faces
Enthusiastic starters
Country crossing aces

Fish and chips in belly
Bodies warm and dry
140 miles ahead of us
and a greyness in the sky

At the front a pack of three
Streamlined, slick with pace
Eating up the Tarmac
Engine like with grace

At the rear a hardy trio
With chunkier bikes beneath
Mud and spit upon us
But bearing smiling teeth.

Day 1, the warm up day
Starts well with a gradual climb
We find our natural rhythm
And cycle with good time

Two thirds through the stage
The hills come to test our metal
We plod on through, Not three but two
Meet Keswick with fine fettle

The racing pack in front of us
Arrive five miles ahead and early
Tales of trips to cockermouth
And all things broken and girly

Day 1 we're wet and tired
If that was a trial, we were tested
Tomorrow we'll find new vigour
When we're washed, and fed and rested

Early morning rise
Breakfast on the table
A good night sleeps in spite of snoring
We're ready and were able

The B team set off first
They're ready and they're willing
Andy Phoenix visits the bike shop
And spends a tidy shilling

New cleats for his old shoes
New shoes for his new cleats
A new top for the finish line
New wheels, new frame, new seat

Exit left from Keswick
and onward to penrith
Up through hills, and downward thrills
Rob Hemsons coming fifth

The B team meet the A team
Cutting corners on the bypass
Slip streaming like true pros
Tucked in behind Andy's wide Ass

Pack two keeps pace for a hundred yards
But overtaking is a must
A brief feeling of oneness
And then we eat their dust

An American motor rally
Rolls through the country lanes
Amazing sights, zip by our bikes
Drivers more money than brains

Hunger strikes, we stop at he pub
Rob Hemson wants a feed
Chips and paninis with the supports team
Then it's back onto the steed

The funny thing about saddle sore
Aside from the excruciating pain
Is it fades real sweet when your sat in the seat
But returns when you rest again

Off we bound to Alston
The waitress bemoans the ride
A two thousand feet climb will steal all our time
as we crawl to the top of Hartside

The climb is like slow water torture
When you think your are doing quite well
More hills arise in front of your eyes
The pain in your thighs is hell

A stop at summit is in order
The cafe is a welcome sight
Tea and cake with the bikers
before the girls close for the night

Down hill exhilaration follows
The undulating decent was sublime
A text in my pocket unopened
From pack one who've been back for some time

A handful of miles and were done
The farm house met with a cheer
Slow cooked Pasta soup for most
Or steaks washed down with a beer.

Off to bed and day two done
Fifty five til the finish
We're doing well, our leaders back
All concerns diminish

Pack two rise with the larks
An early feed does beckon
Let's get out first, a nippy burst
Well push team A, I reckon

Plans change, we skip the breakfast
And embark before its eight
Team A enjoy the breakfast
And opt to get up late

The day kicks off with pain
The hills come thick and fast
Back to back steep climbs
Hartside's in the past

These hills are much more gruelling
They're long and very steep
We snake along in low gear
And have to dig so deep

The down hill drop was awesome
No brakes shows you're manly
It's squeaky bum time all the way
Onto Alston, Stanhope and Stanley

At Concet we stop for lunch
The second of the day
Adam joins us for a bite
He's yet to see Craig pay

The weather deserves a mention
Day three was by far the best
It's dry and even sunny
I shed jacket and my vest

Team A check our whereabouts
And were amazed to find
That despite us setting off two hours early
We're now two hours behind

Things turn for the worst
when we're just eight miles away
We start to lose our bearings
Ride this and that away

We find the Moss Side of Sunderland
We're nervous just a trifle
Broken glass, and the underclass
Shoot near us with a rifle

Craig's doing well today
No falls and panicked wailing
One mile to the finish line
and he smashed into the railing

Pack two cruise to the harbour
Robs roundabout move is outstanding
The journeys run, 140 done
Front wheels meet the landing

The journey has been epic
The A team set the pace
The novices in pack two
They too, have what it takes

As this rhyming journal ends
I'm grateful and amazed
our family and friends have given such
So far it's four grand raised.

Thanks all

Ignore typos...I am tired

It's your life (tweet poetry)

Life has a many phase
You decide on the chosen ways
You can choose the time in days
Burn it bright, it pays to amaze

Blame me (tweet poetry)

Never point and try to shame
Don't blame, defame or flame
Pointless pointing at others game
See the mirror, the culprits frame

I times four (tweet poetry)

I ebb and flow, but I'm not tidal
I contemplate life, but I'm not suicidal
I'm against it all but have no rival
I love activity and avoid the idle