Cycling tips, in rhyme. I'll start:-
- Thread starter betty swollocks
- Start date
Page may contain affiliate links. Please see terms for details.
Archie_tect
De Skieven Architek... aka Penfold + Horace
- Location
- Northumberland
Cycling? It's easy as A, B and C
Get on, start pedalling,
Come ride with me.
Get on, start pedalling,
Come ride with me.
steveindenmark
Legendary Member
A ride in the woods in the dark of the moon
Was no challenge or so it was said
So I mounted my Schwinn and I turned on my lights
And away in the evening I sped.
Slicker than owl snot my drive train did run
As I reached the first tulgey glade
Completely at ease I passed under the trees
Breathing deeply and yet unafraid.
A sudden light clicking then came to my ear
And I wondered if it was the bike.
The volume and frequency seemed to increase
And something just didn't seem right.
My crankset? My pedals? Perhaps the rear wheel?
But my spokes were stress relieved.
I'd checked all the torques and examined the forks
No fault could be conceived.
But then I remembered the horrible squirrels
That run in the woods at night.
More cunning than weasels and faster than bats
My blood ran cold with fright.
My mirror was useless, it bounced up and down
I carefully looked to the back.
Not one running there in the LED glare, not one
But the whole freaking pack!
I knew in an instant the danger I faced
For the squirrels of the East are unreal.
Like furry piranha that scamper like rats
They wanted my brand new wheel!
I knew in the morning they'd find my bones
spread out by the side of the trail.
If I couldn't pull off a quick finesse
I had to deliver the mail.
I spun and I sweated and pulled a huge gear
In the face of imminent death.
The grade was intense and my terror immense
I smelt their squirrelly breath!
Just then I remembered that in my valise
Which I'd strapped to the top of my bars
I had peanuts and trail mix and Gatorade
And a couple of candy bars.
I unzipped the bag and flung out the tools
Which only impeded my hand.
An anvil, a tow chain, a hacksaw and such
And a brand new truing stand.
I hated like fury to throw out that stand
But I needed to get to the food.
I whipped out the trail mix and tossed it back
It halted that Hell spawned brood.
I sat at the top of the hill and wheezed
As the squirrels devouered the nuts.
I'll never again take a ride on that trail
No ifs, no maybes, no buts!
Anon
Was no challenge or so it was said
So I mounted my Schwinn and I turned on my lights
And away in the evening I sped.
Slicker than owl snot my drive train did run
As I reached the first tulgey glade
Completely at ease I passed under the trees
Breathing deeply and yet unafraid.
A sudden light clicking then came to my ear
And I wondered if it was the bike.
The volume and frequency seemed to increase
And something just didn't seem right.
My crankset? My pedals? Perhaps the rear wheel?
But my spokes were stress relieved.
I'd checked all the torques and examined the forks
No fault could be conceived.
But then I remembered the horrible squirrels
That run in the woods at night.
More cunning than weasels and faster than bats
My blood ran cold with fright.
My mirror was useless, it bounced up and down
I carefully looked to the back.
Not one running there in the LED glare, not one
But the whole freaking pack!
I knew in an instant the danger I faced
For the squirrels of the East are unreal.
Like furry piranha that scamper like rats
They wanted my brand new wheel!
I knew in the morning they'd find my bones
spread out by the side of the trail.
If I couldn't pull off a quick finesse
I had to deliver the mail.
I spun and I sweated and pulled a huge gear
In the face of imminent death.
The grade was intense and my terror immense
I smelt their squirrelly breath!
Just then I remembered that in my valise
Which I'd strapped to the top of my bars
I had peanuts and trail mix and Gatorade
And a couple of candy bars.
I unzipped the bag and flung out the tools
Which only impeded my hand.
An anvil, a tow chain, a hacksaw and such
And a brand new truing stand.
I hated like fury to throw out that stand
But I needed to get to the food.
I whipped out the trail mix and tossed it back
It halted that Hell spawned brood.
I sat at the top of the hill and wheezed
As the squirrels devouered the nuts.
I'll never again take a ride on that trail
No ifs, no maybes, no buts!
Anon
Drago
Legendary Member
- Location
- Suburban Poshshire
Remember to carefully lube up your hub
Or against your shaft the wheel will rub.
Or against your shaft the wheel will rub.
Drago
Legendary Member
- Location
- Suburban Poshshire
When you're riding very fast
That segment may be yours at last.
That segment may be yours at last.
Drago
Legendary Member
- Location
- Suburban Poshshire
Lock out suspension to prevent pedal Bob
Or against the saddle you will crush your nob.
Or against the saddle you will crush your nob.
deptfordmarmoset
Full time tea drinker
- Location
- Armonmy Way
If you neglect to unclip
You may bruise your hip.
You may bruise your hip.
Drago
Legendary Member
- Location
- Suburban Poshshire
When riding out about the town
Best not wear a dressing gown.
(It's late and I'm tired!)
Best not wear a dressing gown.
(It's late and I'm tired!)
ayceejay
Guru
- Location
- Rural Quebec
I cycle
I am a cyclist
I am alone
with bike and cake
in bliss
blissful cyclist
I am a cyclist
I am alone
with bike and cake
in bliss
blissful cyclist
Fnaar
Smutmaster General
- Location
- Thumberland
Yeah, yeah, yeah
up the hill backwards
It'll be alright ooo-ooo
(Bowie, David)
up the hill backwards
It'll be alright ooo-ooo
(Bowie, David)
Poacher
Gravitationally challenged member
- Location
- Nottingham
It's just possible that some on here may not yet have come across this one from 1896, by the great A.B. "Banjo" Paterson: stretching the OP's title slightly, but I suppose the moral is something like
When you ride a brand new cycle,
Take it steady, not the michael.
IGMC
MULGA BILL'S BICYCLE
'Twas Mulga Bill, from Eaglehawk, that caught the cycling craze;
He turned away the good old horse that served him many days;
He dressed himself in cycling clothes, resplendent to be seen;
He hurried off to town and bought a shining new machine;
And as he wheeled it through the door, with air of lordly pride,
The grinning shop assistant said, "Excuse me, can you ride?"
"See here, young man," said Mulga Bill, "from Walgett to the sea,
From Conroy's Gap to Castlereagh, there's none can ride like me.
I'm good all round at everything as everybody knows,
Although I'm not the one to talk - I hate a man that blows.
But riding is my special gift, my chiefest, sole delight;
Just ask a wild duck can it swim, a wildcat can it fight.
There's nothing clothed in hair or hide, or built of flesh or steel,
There's nothing walks or jumps, or runs, on axle, hoof, or wheel,
But what I'll sit, while hide will hold and girths and straps are tight:
I'll ride this here two-wheeled concern right straight away at sight."
'Twas Mulga Bill, from Eaglehawk, that sought his own abode,
That perched above Dead Man's Creek, beside the mountain road.
He turned the cycle down the hill and mounted for the fray,
But 'ere he'd gone a dozen yards it bolted clean away.
It left the track, and through the trees, just like a silver steak,
It whistled down the awful slope towards the Dead Man's Creek.
It shaved a stump by half an inch, it dodged a big white-box:
The very wallaroos in fright went scrambling up the rocks,
The wombats hiding in their caves dug deeper underground,
As Mulga Bill, as white as chalk, sat tight to every bound.
It struck a stone and gave a spring that cleared a fallen tree,
It raced beside a precipice as close as close could be;
And then as Mulga Bill let out one last despairing shriek
It made a leap of twenty feet into the Dean Man's Creek.
'Twas Mulga Bill, from Eaglehawk, that slowly swam ashore:
He said, "I've had some narrer shaves and lively rides before;
I've rode a wild bull round a yard to win a five-pound bet,
But this was the most awful ride that I've encountered yet.
I'll give that two-wheeled outlaw best; it's shaken all my nerve
To feel it whistle through the air and plunge and buck and swerve.
It's safe at rest in Dead Man's Creek, we'll leave it lying still;
A horse's back is good enough henceforth for Mulga Bill."
When you ride a brand new cycle,
Take it steady, not the michael.
IGMC
MULGA BILL'S BICYCLE
'Twas Mulga Bill, from Eaglehawk, that caught the cycling craze;
He turned away the good old horse that served him many days;
He dressed himself in cycling clothes, resplendent to be seen;
He hurried off to town and bought a shining new machine;
And as he wheeled it through the door, with air of lordly pride,
The grinning shop assistant said, "Excuse me, can you ride?"
"See here, young man," said Mulga Bill, "from Walgett to the sea,
From Conroy's Gap to Castlereagh, there's none can ride like me.
I'm good all round at everything as everybody knows,
Although I'm not the one to talk - I hate a man that blows.
But riding is my special gift, my chiefest, sole delight;
Just ask a wild duck can it swim, a wildcat can it fight.
There's nothing clothed in hair or hide, or built of flesh or steel,
There's nothing walks or jumps, or runs, on axle, hoof, or wheel,
But what I'll sit, while hide will hold and girths and straps are tight:
I'll ride this here two-wheeled concern right straight away at sight."
'Twas Mulga Bill, from Eaglehawk, that sought his own abode,
That perched above Dead Man's Creek, beside the mountain road.
He turned the cycle down the hill and mounted for the fray,
But 'ere he'd gone a dozen yards it bolted clean away.
It left the track, and through the trees, just like a silver steak,
It whistled down the awful slope towards the Dead Man's Creek.
It shaved a stump by half an inch, it dodged a big white-box:
The very wallaroos in fright went scrambling up the rocks,
The wombats hiding in their caves dug deeper underground,
As Mulga Bill, as white as chalk, sat tight to every bound.
It struck a stone and gave a spring that cleared a fallen tree,
It raced beside a precipice as close as close could be;
And then as Mulga Bill let out one last despairing shriek
It made a leap of twenty feet into the Dean Man's Creek.
'Twas Mulga Bill, from Eaglehawk, that slowly swam ashore:
He said, "I've had some narrer shaves and lively rides before;
I've rode a wild bull round a yard to win a five-pound bet,
But this was the most awful ride that I've encountered yet.
I'll give that two-wheeled outlaw best; it's shaken all my nerve
To feel it whistle through the air and plunge and buck and swerve.
It's safe at rest in Dead Man's Creek, we'll leave it lying still;
A horse's back is good enough henceforth for Mulga Bill."
OP
OP
betty swollocks
large member
Starship cyclist Mr Spock
Couldn't find his razor
And so to shave his Vulcan legs
Borrowed Scotty's phaser.
Couldn't find his razor
And so to shave his Vulcan legs
Borrowed Scotty's phaser.
OP
OP
betty swollocks
large member
If you don't have the tool f' the job,
It helps to be a Bodger.
Inventiveness can get you far,
But never use yer todger.
It helps to be a Bodger.
Inventiveness can get you far,
But never use yer todger.
Shut Up Legs
Down Under Member
http://laughingsquid.com/curbside-haiku-new-york-city-road-safety-poetry-signs/ said:
