The Peopleteamies…a poem!

An ode to the People team’s 64 mile  personal best….

One sunny Thursday in Appleby town
The People team gathered by a pub called the Crown
The purpose that day was a task to raise smiles
How would the team bike sixty four miles?  

At ten-thirty sharp down from the hills
Came the earlier raiders who talked of the thrills
Of climbing a mountain and flying down dales
They had flies on their glasses and wind in their sails

Hutton and Leaver and Alicia’s beau Paul
Who’d travelled a week and were having a ball
The Cumbrian team who were as fit as fiddle
And Hindmarsh caught drafting asleep in the middle

As we climbed the first hill we started to think
Why is young Rhodes wearing shoes that are pink?
The distraction they caused helped him displace the pain
That racked through his rear as his bum took the strain

Nashy forgot that her tyres needed air
So she traded her bike for one that was spare
That meant poor Kevin had drawn the short straw
He pedalled like hell then he pedalled some more

Walton the athlete looked sharp and felt strong
Downed a few Mars as she cycled along
With speed in her legs and power in her hips
Fuelled by the thought of some fish and some chips

Her pedalling was powered like a nuclear reactor
Her tyres looked like they would fit on a tractor
Kazia looked strong and with power in her boots
She looked like she’d keep on like this the whole route

Roisin our leader a talent quite budding
Dreamed of the finish and a battered black pudding
Cath kept on pushing with vigour and glee
By the end of the day she’d have her PB

In Penrith a greeting fit for a Lord
With burgers served up by a crowd who had roared
We said our goodbyes and set off on our way
With huge thanks to Claire for her help on the day

Just short of Carlisle as we stopped for some snap
Somebody noticed a tyre had gone flat
So the lads hung on back as the tyre was fixed
And helped their poor team mate get back in the mix

But a chain of events had been well set in motion
And puncture on puncture created commotion
By Gretna his guilt at disrupting the plan
Meant that he threw the old bike in the van

So on Nashy’s small bike he set off again
In the tightest of V’s formed by three honest men
Who carried him home in their cocooned slipstream   
This is what it feels like to work with a team

As the day lingered on faces looked worn
Would the bold cyclists hit Lockerbie by dawn?
But in the last few miles a sensation took hold
We all knew we’d make it, we’d all claim the Gold

In our last stop at Dalton we created a flap
A lady from Thailand demanded a snap
One got the impression that in this quiet street
Nothing much happens bar the bus once a week

Then out of the pack like a bat out of hell
One of the cyclists dug deep in her well
Her pedals a blur, her wheels making smoke
Came Kazia blitzing with flames from her spokes

“We did it, we did it” the whole team did scream
Sixty four miles by all of the team
Will you still love it, will you still care,
When it’s sixty four miles from here to there?
 Thanks to David Hindmarsh for the poem!