I ride hard

I ride every day

I ride till the threads and deep tissue of my muscles strain and my back and legs scream with the thrill of pain.

Why? Can’t explain, to try is vain…..but….

When ride is done, so am I.

there isn’t any doing things that aught be done,

I am high on the fluid

poison or physical passion juice

I only find in the ride-

not the joy ride, the war ride,

me against the age they say I am and who I feel I am before and after-

but not in the ride.

There will come the day when I will not win the fight of age,

when the enemy of the ride will best me,

when muscle bone or car or truck will cripple and bring me down, —but it wasn’t today.

And when I fight the inevitable future, with clipped shoes and a measured fit or on Fatty Bike in Lake Elmo Park I think of God,

as steep grade hills up or down scare me and dare me to ‘do it’ I call out God in Jesus name,

YES, YES, YES and YES again, I can do this assent or decent and not falter or fail.

My God, you’ve blessed me with years beyond many other men,

I’ve been famous

I’ve been obscure–however this— your latest gift–

THE RIDE, I pray it may please you

that I do it with the spirit of gratitude toward yo and you in mind, heart -and soul,